Page 77 of Die for You
Only Knox’s bedroom door, propped open an inch.
I hold my breath as I push it open, the responding creak rattling in my ears.
My heart pounds out a chaotic rhythm as my eyes scan the room?—
On the floor. A crimson pool hits my bare feet.
I gasp, heart stopping as I find the source of the blood.
Three bodies. Facedown on the carpet. Immobile.
Knives protruding from their backs.
A scream wrenches from my throat as my stomach plunges to the floor.No.
Damien, Knox, Finn?—
No, no, no.
I collapse to my knees, hands flying to my ears to drown out my own agonized screams.
From the bed, a figure stands. He steps into the moonlight trickling in from the window.
Jeremiah. With a maniacal grin and blood dripping from his hands.
I’m still screaming when my body lurches awake.
Cold sweat coats my back, my neck, my palms. I jerk upright, hand flying over my chest in a failed attempt to calm the heart slamming against my ribcage.
But it’s not my screams that woke me up.
Something strikes my locked bedroom door.Finn’sbedroom door. He volunteered to take the couch after I insisted I still can’t share a bed with them at night.
When the lock finally breaks and the tall, intimidating, silent shadow of Finn shoves into the room, my lip wobbles.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp, tears spilling down my cheeks.
Finn rushes to my side, slipping under the blanket with me and cradling me to him.
I can’t stop the deluge of sobs now as they wrack my body. My face pressed into his chest manages to muffle my cries, but only a little. He doesn’t try to hush me. He doesn’t say a word. Only rubs my back, letting me cry.
“You were dead.” I hiccup on a sob. “You were all dead.”
Impossibly, he pulls me closer. His low, rumbling voice comes out soothing. “I’m right here.”
He takes my hand and places it on his chest, heart thumping underneath.
They’re okay. It wasn’t real. Just a dream.
My nightmares always involve Jeremiah, but never anyone else. In my dreams, it’s always me he comes after. Always me he manages to corner and grab.
But seeing the Devils like that . . . with Jeremiah standing over them . . .
I don’t know what I’d do if he ever hurt them.
When I’ve finally calmed down enough to stop sobbing, Finn rolls onto his back and tucks my head onto his chest. I keep my hand on his heart, a reminder that he’s right here, he’s alive, and he’s not going anywhere. Not if he can help it. Not if I can help it.
He lifts my hand off his chest, and I’m about to protest when he rubs my skin across his cheek. Slick with tears.
