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Joseph sat on the sofa, phone in hand. Irritating games made noises as his fingers slid around the touchscreen. Rothbart stood in front of me, wearing unusual attire. No checkered shirt, like Llewrehtom, who lingered in the other room to torment Callie and the other girls. He wore only a pair of dirty boxers, hiding his deflating dick.
Clawing my way from the floor, and reaching for anything I could grab as a weapon in his fancy living room, a lightweight vase made it into my outstretched hands as he dragged me back.
The vase smashed as he tossed me against the wall. Dust covered the floor.
“That was my father you just spilled, you stupid slut.”
The vase was, apparently, an urn.
I grabbed a sharp piece from the floor, and I intended to stab it through his muscular neck and hunt for his jugular, then dive onto Joseph and do the same before he even looked up from his phone.
I’d had enough of being beaten and raped, and that was exactly what had happened today, to both me and Callie.
The china barely grazed Rothbart’s shoulder as his thick arm wrapped around my throat, squeezing the bones and cutting off my air supply. My naked back pressed to his sweaty, hairy front.
Changing direction, I slashed his forearm with the shard, finally marring his body.
Anger bled out in one drop of blood, and giant arms banded around me. He lifted me and threw my body to the floor. My head slammed down first, bouncing once before hitting the ground for a second time through force. Memories fell through the cracks in my mind, and as the monster-sized man loomed above me, I had no idea where I was or who I was. I had no idea if he was a friend or an enemy. The hate on his face made him look like the latter.
“Cat…” A voice invaded my nightmares. “Looks like it isn’t a good dream, baby. Can you follow my voice? Can you open your eyes?”
“Remi…” My mouth barely opened as I mumbled through a thick fog of slumber, not quite out of it.
“Yes, Cat.” Remi sounded different—like a broken version of the man I knew. “Follow my voice.”
“Remi…”
Pressure squeezed around my hand, and then I felt the tickle of stubble.
Blinking open tired eyes, I focused on the blur holding my hand until that blur became Remi.
I closed them again, but another voice became intent on keeping me awake.
“How are you feeling, Catharina?” The voice was robotic.
I twisted my head to the opposite side. Dr. Novaletti sat near the machines connected to me, by what looked like a million wires, to my groggy eyes.
“My back aches, and I feel like I have a pain in each side of my chest. And I’m tired…and sore.”
“The pain in her chest, is that normal?” Remi’s palm sweated against mine, his tense body and tight grip showing signs of concern.
Dr. Novaletti was nodding when my head lolled back in Remi’s direction.
“You’re worried?”
“Of course, I’m worried.”
“You told me lies.” And I hadn’t had time to call him out on them until now.
“Not about my feelings. I never lied about that.” His eyes finished the sentence, saying, that was always something you did. “I kept secrets, and I’m sorry, but we’ll talk about it another time, Cat. I don’t want you to have any extra stress right now.”
“That’s a good idea.” Dr. Novaletti continued, “Catharina, you had to have a heart transplant following some complications after a heart attack.”
My hand, the one not in Remi’s death grip, moved to my chest, but Novaletti grabbed it, his head shaking.
“Don’t touch, Dream,” Remi shook his head.
Novaletti placed my hand back on the bed.
