Page 5 of Gorgeous Nightmare

My dream girl.

Except she’s covered in dirt, small cuts cover her body like she was just dragged through a graveyard. Her clothes are torn, small holes revealing crimson-coated gashes. My hands clench at my side as I wonder if any of this was her choice.

“Um, excuse me,” she states flatly, her voice void of any emotion, completely empty.

I don’t say a thing, I just stare at her, unwilling to believe that I’m anything but tucked in my bed right now, dreaming. But I know I’m not.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” She slams her hands into my chest, pushing against me with what I would assume is all her force by the way she grunts as her hands make contact with me.

Stepping to the side, she loses what little balance she has left. Before she can fall, I reach my hand out and brace for the impact. Her soft tummy presses into my forearm, my hand just barely grazing the top of her hip.

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch me,” she growls at me.

Oh, she’s feisty.

It’s one of those warnings that seeps into your bones and tells you this girl has been through so much more than she would ever let on.

I remove my hand and begin to back up, raising both of them in front of me as a sign of submission. I smirk at her, holding back a chuckle as she rolls her eyes and turns to leave.

I watch her fat ass jiggle beneath that too fucking short skirt as she walks towards the parking lot. Bruised and bloody but still fucking feisty.

Holy fucking hell.

She’s lucky I have enough self-control to stop myself from dragging her by that long red-black hair right to my car, but she’s not ready for me to fight back.

Not yet.

CHAPTER 6

Aisling

He backs away slowly, palms open in a quiet offering, but something in his eyes tells me he would burn the world if I asked him to.

If it weren’t for the fact that I just got fucked in some grimy bathroom, I might have gone home with him.

He’s a sight to behold. Standing just a couple of inches taller than me, medium build, and caramel colored skin that looks like a shadow has kissed it. Dark hair falls around his face in lazy, middle-parted waves that brush his ears.

His glasses are slightly crooked on his nose, and his subtle facial hair frames his goofy grin just perfectly. He’s exactly the kind of guy that I’d see, smoke someweed with, then fuck. Maybe even keep his number in my phone for a little while, you know, in case I get bored.

Wrong place, wrong time, pretty boy. Story of my fucking life.

I roll my eyes at him as I turn to walk toward my car, and I feel his watchful gaze following me, tracking me, searing itself into my back.

Goosebumps erupt from my neck and arms. I recognize my body's reaction instantly. This isn’t just some skater boy at a park watching some pretty girl walking to her car.

This is a predator sizing up its prey.

Not this shit again.

I pull into my driveway, not remembering much of the ride home. It was one of those drives where you arrive at your destination but don't quite recall howyou got there, an out-of-body experience without the second body.

My feet try to betray me multiple times as I walk through my doorway. Not having the usual energy to climb the steps ahead of me, I grasp the wall for some stability. The darkness is a calm embrace, wrapping around me like a blanket of safety.

The weight of my body drags heavily as I reach out and switch on the little mushroom lamp I strategically placed inside my front door to avoid having to turn on ‘the big light.’ We don’t use that light in this house. It’s ‘the devil,’ as Bobby Boucher’s momma fromThe Waterboywould say.

My exhausted hands start pulling at my dirt and blood-coated clothes. The weight of them finally became too much, too tight, too itchy. I leave them in a small pile in the hallway, knowing I’ll pick them up later. Besides, I live alone, so it’s not like it’ll piss anyone off.

I move down the hallway, flipping on a couple of lamps and LED lights as I go to create the cozy ambiance Ilove so much.

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