Page 12 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

For the first time since I came to in that mangled car, I welcome the darkness taking over.

3

Anya

You’re not safe here.

I know that voice. I knowher.The long, grey hair she keeps combed into a tight bun at the back of her neck. Her waspy figure wrapped in black satin and lace. A dress befitting a mother in mourning. The tears in her tired, blue eyes. Blue eyes like mine.

You’re not safe here, Anya, not anymore.

Why?I ask her.

There’s a photo on the side table to my right. A mahogany frame holds everything I knew about my life before it was shattered. I see the photo clearly now. A man and a woman, smiling at the camera. The look on the man’s face used to make me feel safe. The woman’s eyes inspired faith in my heart. And the two children standing between them. The tall boy with platinum hair and the sky in his gaze. The little girl holding on to him with a toothy grin. That’s me. I’m the little girl.

We were happy.

Why can’t I stay here?

Because he’s in town, Anya. He’s been spotted by the library.

Where do I go?

As far away from here as possible,the old woman says. I’m sorry, Anya. But you have to go. He’s coming for you. And you know he won’t stop until he finds you.

He won’t stop until he finds me.

Who is he?

Where am I?

I know this house. I used to come here in the summer for days at a time. There was a swing in the backyard made of wood and painted white. My brother would fling me as high as that thing would go.

And then we’d sit in the garden. He would watch me paint.

Aleks,I whisper.He’s not here.

Anya, you have to leave.Take this with you,the old woman says.I can’t keep you safe. I wish I could.

I cry out when his face emerges from the shadows. I’m having a nightmare wrapped inside a memory, because I have lived through this. I remember the dread, the horror of having to leave again. It broke me having to say goodbye to her.

The fear of losing her, too.

But he’s coming. I can almost hear him laughing.

You should be thankful I’m willing to marry you. No other man would want a fat girl like you.

Tears stream down my face as I wake up crying. The house is gone. The photo with its mahogany frame… gone. Everything is gone, and I’m left with the gaping holes in my memory once again, with no understanding of who I am or where I came from. I’m crying my heart out, face-down on the pillow before I hear Booker’s voice.

“Hey, hey,” he coos gently as he takes me in his arms.

The fine wool of his sweater tickles my burning cheeks. “I wasn’t safe,” I manage, trying to make sense of what I can still grasp from the dream. “I… I wasn’t safe.”

“You’re safe now,” Booker says.

The fear subsides, and the comfort of his protection brings me back into a full, calm consciousness. My head hurts, but the migraines are getting milder with each passing day.

It’s been four days now.

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