Lost in a Reverie 18+ Only (Book 1 of Lastor Series) ['23/'24 EDIT]

Chapter 24

Rick drove me home in silence and when he parked outside my building, he came out of the car and followed me inside. I didn't say anything. Just silently walked down the hall. Silently opened the door. Silently made my way to my room in the dark. Silently changed in a shirt. Silently laid on my bed.

He laid beside me while I faced away from him, silently hoping he'd leave before I started screaming in my sleep but also hoping he wouldn't. I was too confused. Too angry. Too fucking exhausted.

He pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me, embracing me tightly as he pressed my back against his chest. That fear inside me rose once more at having this man strip away my walls without even so much as a sound.

"Please leave," I finally said.

"No."

I groaned, tilting my head and pressing my face into the pillow, biting into it.

"I'm going to hurt you."

"I stopped caring half an hour ago," he stated simply, placing a kiss on my shoulder. "Sleep, Angel. I'm here."

His words somehow comforted me, because I wasn't alone. Against so much effort, my eyes fell shut and no matter how hard I fought it, sleep took over me.

* * *

My demons were visiting me again, making a mess of my thoughts and memories, digging out the most painful moments in my life and rolling them up together into one person and haunting me in my sleep.

He stood, towering over me, making me feel so small. The sides of his eyes and forehead crinkled as he looked at me disapprovingly, his dark eyes piercing through mine, darkening as each moment passed. I held my breath, afraid of what he would do.

He laughed. His voice was such a menacing sound that I winced when he kept on.

"Stop!" I cried out.

He slapped me hard enough that I fell on the floor. I clutched my cheek and watched helplessly as he came closer. I tried to crawl back to my feet but he only pulled me by my ankles to hit me again, shoving me onto the floor as if touching me was the most repulsive thing one could do and gifting me with a harsh kick on the gut, making me heave and gasp for air as the blow blocked out my breathing.

"You can't run. You have no one."

He spat at me, literally, and stomped his foot anywhere that he could land on me, breaking every bone in my body with every blow.

"I own you!" he snarled, pointing a finger at himself to emphasize his reference.

I wanted to scream but nothing came out. He started dragging me, slamming me against the wall and kicking me as I begged him to stop. Everything hurt and it hurt more whenever I tried to move away from him.

"Stop! Please!" I cried out.

I managed to run and when I did, I didn't stop. I kept running in the darkness that surrounded me, not knowing where I was going. But then, he appeared in front of me and dragged me back to hell.

He didn't stop. He bled my dry. He ripped me apart and worst of it all was I didn't die. I didn't die when he tore through my chest and ripped out my heart. I didn't die when he yanked out every strand of hair on my head. I didn't die when he ripped my throat out with his claws.

I didn't die. I wanted to die. Why couldn't I fucking die?

I felt a tight grip on my arms but I'd shut my eyes, willing him to go away, to go back to the darkest corner of my mind and leave me be.

"Angel!" a voice called but it wasn't his. "Angel!"

His hands gripped me by the shoulders, shaking me to wake up. I could hear myself screaming and I gasped, my eyes snapping open, only to see a pair of wide eyes filled with what I could only assume was worry.