Page 13 of Bed of Thorns

I closed my eyes, struggling with the demons threatening to take over. I loved her. I couldn’t remember the day I’d fallen in love with her, but the raw, blistering sensations were eating me alive, stripping away pieces and parts.

I had a million dreams that kept me going, every one of them vibrant colors of the rainbow. But not one of them could ever happen.

Anger boiled from the deepest portions of what was left of my soul, digging at me, the razor-sharp edges covered in rust. I hissed, forced to fist my mouth for a second time to keep from making a sound. I wasn’t ready. Yet. Soon. Very soon.

Even the deep breaths I took did little to help with the building rage, but I remembered what Adam had taught me, the exercises capable of clearing my mind. Breathe in, hold and count to five. Release for eight. Repeat twice more. While there was nothing that could clear my mind on a night like this, it soothed the beast inside.

I returned the picture to the desk, noticing a piece of stationery. I would recognize the scrolling floral design on the heading anywhere. My fingers shaking, I lifted the paper, the ugliness of the wasted years and the anger I’d felt surrounding her betrayal fading away.

Edmond,

This is a difficult letter for me to write. I’d thought about what to say to you after all these years and nothing seemed right. I’m trying to put a few words on paper, but I plan on visiting you in prison in the next few days so I can tell you in person. You’re a very special man. Don’t ever, ever allow anyone to tell you otherwise. I have no real understanding about the circumstances surrounding your arrest. No one has dared talk to me about them, but I intend on finding out. I’m no attorney, yet, but I have a voice, one loud enough people will listen to me.

Somehow.

You’ve been mistreated and that’s going to end. Maybe I’m fooling myself, but I need to try. It’s all I can think about lately. There’s so much I need to tell you, reasons for decisions I’ve made, but nothing will matter put down on cold paper. I just…

The letter stopped short, as if she’d been unable to find those words she was so desperately seeking. I held the paper against my chest, taking several raspy breaths. Then I pulled it to my face, catching a slight whiff of her perfume. I’d longed to smell her hair in the springtime, to see her face light up like the moment she took her first taste of that ice cream. I’d have all that and much more.

After returning the letter to the exact position that she’d left it, I moved closer to the bed, staring down at her for several seconds. Then I used a single finger to brush her hair from her face. Electricity shot through me, the jolt so intense, my heart skipped several beats. This was the right thing to do.

No, this was the only thing I could do for the both of us.

* * *

Mercedes

Suffocation.

I was swimming in a sea of blackness, incapable of breathing. As I tried to fight my way up from the depths of hell, the struggle seemed to be in vain. What was happening to me? Was this what death felt like? Blackness? Hopelessness?

I snapped my eyes open, the darkness all around me terrifying. As my brain tried to provide some level of focus, I finally realized I was being held down, a hand placed over my mouth. I screamed, the sound muffled, and fought with everything I had in me, flailing as I tried to make sense of anything.

“Quiet.”

The voice was dark, the tone ominous. I instantly froze, blinking several times, waiting until my eyes became accustomed to the shadows. After a few seconds, I sensed a looming figure stood over me, holding me down. I was paralyzed, overwhelmed by the mind-bending fear so tightly wrapped around me that I couldn’t think clearly.

What was happening to me? Who was this?

William. Oh, my God. He’d made good on his promise. This wasn’t going to happen. I refused to allow the bastard to hurt me.

I struggled, doing everything I could to get free.

“Ssshhh… It’s okay. Listen to me. Everything will be okay.”

The tone was… different. It wasn’t William.

Think. Breathe.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

The deep baritone was almost comforting, sweeping over me like the softest blanket.

The light from my desk was on, the slight glow barely adding any light to the room. Whoever he was had been in my house for more than just a few minutes. What was he looking for?

I sensed the intruder coming closer, felt the weight on the bed change. He kept his hand in position, his breathing as ragged as mine. Why wasn’t he doing or saying anything? What did he want? I had no money, no possessions that would garner him more than a few pennies. Tears welled in my eyes, my heart thudding hard and fast, my stomach in knots.

William had sent someone to teach me a lesson. I was petrified, struggling to think clearly.

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