to the dreams about Drake—those dreams I’d wanted so badly to forget, the ones where I woke up, aching all over. Aching for his touch while my heart cried out for him. Just him.
Even the other dreams. The dreams where I was trapped. Wrapped in darkness, and just trapped, while I heard a familiar voice in my ear. Scream…scream for me . I’d take any of those, every night for the rest of my life if it meant I’d never have to dream about that final day again.
Too bad it didn’t work that way.
There was a faint, rhythmic ticking. Now that I was aware of it, it seemed to grow louder, and louder. Turning my head, I grabbed the watch I’d taken to wearing.
Five a.m. I wouldn’t sleep any more. But the thought of dragging my miserable, tired ass out of the bed was more than I could handle. So I lay there, huddled and brooding under the blankets.
It was one thing I did very, very well.
Ten years.
My father had been gone for ten years.
It was supposed to get easier, wasn’t it?
Rolling onto my belly, I pressed my face into the pillow as the loneliness, a miserable ache in my gut, just spread and spread.
The minutes bled away into hours, heralded by each slow tick of my watch. I lay there until it was nearly seven, then I forced myself out of bed, showered, packed up the few things I’d brought into the hotel.
It was time to do what I’d come for.
After this, I had no idea what I’d do next.
After ten years, I had faced down the dragon who had haunted my memories…Drake. Not much of a dragon, really. Over the past few weeks, I’d accepted that he wasn’t the monster I’d made him out to be. He was the first man I’d ever loved, possibly the only man I’d ever love. My heart still went bump when I thought of him and if I’d hoped to exorcise him from my thoughts, from my soul, from my heart, I’d been fooling myself.
Now I had to live with the memory of his hands on me, and the memory of what a fool I’d been. So many years spent blaming him.
True enough, we wouldn’t have had the money if Gallagher Enterprises hadn’t bought our hotel. My father would still be alive.
But only two men were responsible for locking us up those long miserable days, for every mark they’d left on my mother, every bruise, every broken bone they’d given my father. They were responsible for the bruised kidneys I’d suffered and they were responsible for my nightmares.
Those two men were the ones responsible for my father’s death.
All for money. They’d heard my father talking about the money. My dad, naïve, trusting, amazing man that he was, suckered into a card game and he’d been drunk— laughing when one of the men said they’d take him for everything he had with him, even the shirt off his back. Dad had thought it was hilarious. I got more money now than I know what to do with…you need my shirt? Have it .
A few foolish words, a card game.
And two cruel men.
Those men were to blame. Not Drake. And, I realized, not me.
For ten years I’d drifted, unable to figure out who I was, what I was.
I still didn’t have any answers. Just more questions. Like… where was I supposed to go from here ? What was I supposed to do now ?
But I no longer had a Drake -shaped object blocking me when I tried to look down the road to my future.
What really blocked me was myself.
It was nine a.m. when I entered the garden of stone. This was what drew me back here.
The heels of my boots rang hollowly on the carefully laid walkway. I didn’t look left nor right, didn’t need to search for landmarks. I knew where I was going. Even though I only came here on this day, every year, I could walk this path in my sleep.
Once I found it, my heart stuttered in my chest and I had to pause before I approached.
Images rose up, slammed into me—bright light searing my eyes, voices too loud, one of them louder than all the rest.
Crying—she was crying—why was Mom crying?
Kneeling down, I brushed a few stray
Even the other dreams. The dreams where I was trapped. Wrapped in darkness, and just trapped, while I heard a familiar voice in my ear. Scream…scream for me . I’d take any of those, every night for the rest of my life if it meant I’d never have to dream about that final day again.
Too bad it didn’t work that way.
There was a faint, rhythmic ticking. Now that I was aware of it, it seemed to grow louder, and louder. Turning my head, I grabbed the watch I’d taken to wearing.
Five a.m. I wouldn’t sleep any more. But the thought of dragging my miserable, tired ass out of the bed was more than I could handle. So I lay there, huddled and brooding under the blankets.
It was one thing I did very, very well.
Ten years.
My father had been gone for ten years.
It was supposed to get easier, wasn’t it?
Rolling onto my belly, I pressed my face into the pillow as the loneliness, a miserable ache in my gut, just spread and spread.
The minutes bled away into hours, heralded by each slow tick of my watch. I lay there until it was nearly seven, then I forced myself out of bed, showered, packed up the few things I’d brought into the hotel.
It was time to do what I’d come for.
After this, I had no idea what I’d do next.
After ten years, I had faced down the dragon who had haunted my memories…Drake. Not much of a dragon, really. Over the past few weeks, I’d accepted that he wasn’t the monster I’d made him out to be. He was the first man I’d ever loved, possibly the only man I’d ever love. My heart still went bump when I thought of him and if I’d hoped to exorcise him from my thoughts, from my soul, from my heart, I’d been fooling myself.
Now I had to live with the memory of his hands on me, and the memory of what a fool I’d been. So many years spent blaming him.
True enough, we wouldn’t have had the money if Gallagher Enterprises hadn’t bought our hotel. My father would still be alive.
But only two men were responsible for locking us up those long miserable days, for every mark they’d left on my mother, every bruise, every broken bone they’d given my father. They were responsible for the bruised kidneys I’d suffered and they were responsible for my nightmares.
Those two men were the ones responsible for my father’s death.
All for money. They’d heard my father talking about the money. My dad, naïve, trusting, amazing man that he was, suckered into a card game and he’d been drunk— laughing when one of the men said they’d take him for everything he had with him, even the shirt off his back. Dad had thought it was hilarious. I got more money now than I know what to do with…you need my shirt? Have it .
A few foolish words, a card game.
And two cruel men.
Those men were to blame. Not Drake. And, I realized, not me.
For ten years I’d drifted, unable to figure out who I was, what I was.
I still didn’t have any answers. Just more questions. Like… where was I supposed to go from here ? What was I supposed to do now ?
But I no longer had a Drake -shaped object blocking me when I tried to look down the road to my future.
What really blocked me was myself.
It was nine a.m. when I entered the garden of stone. This was what drew me back here.
The heels of my boots rang hollowly on the carefully laid walkway. I didn’t look left nor right, didn’t need to search for landmarks. I knew where I was going. Even though I only came here on this day, every year, I could walk this path in my sleep.
Once I found it, my heart stuttered in my chest and I had to pause before I approached.
Images rose up, slammed into me—bright light searing my eyes, voices too loud, one of them louder than all the rest.
Crying—she was crying—why was Mom crying?
Kneeling down, I brushed a few stray
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