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That nightmare a few nights ago had been the worst one yet. He’d often woken me thrashing and tossing, but this was the first time he’d screamed.
His voice had cracked.
His hands had grabbed at shadows.
Pure despair poured from him, and I couldn’t let him stay in such misery.
I’d woken him.
He’d kissed me.
And then he’d bolted off and hadn’t come back.
Goosebumps erupted, recalling the way he’d ripped up the Diamond Kiss chit. The gesture had sent my heart flying. The clench of his jaw lit me up with hope.
I’d wanted to ask him there and then.
To finally test to see if he would be on our side, but…he’d avoided me ever since.
He never seemed to sleep.
He’d lost more weight.
His grey eyes always black with nightmares.
Each time I reached out to him, he shrank away as if my touch physically hurt him. Each time I tried to speak, he shut down.
The helplessness as he faded before my eyes drove me mad.
If I didn’t manage to break through to him soon…
My eyes strayed to the switchblade he’d smuggled here in the lining of his jacket.
It sat smugly on his bedside table, the blade tucked away, the handle metallic and smooth.
He’d returned with it yesterday.
At some point, he’d gone up to Victor’s dead zoo where he’d drawn my blood and taken me on the cross. He’d reclaimed that sharp little knife…for what?
For protection from the Masters roaming the halls again?
To slay the monsters in his mind when he woke up screaming in the dark?
Or for something else?
He needs to talk to me.
He’d bottled up far too many things.
Every feeling had noosed around his throat until he hung on that rope, slowly choking.
But how could I get him to talk in a place where talking was so treacherous?
It wasn’t a simple matter of sitting down and clearing the air between us.
I’d often gotten so frustrated at couples who never talked through their problems. So many issues could be solved with a frank and accepting conversation.
But here, under the constant watch of cameras?
