Freeze (The Jewel Project #4)

Nightmares

At first, it was just the consequence of a battered body. But then, after the flesh had healed, it had become a choice he'd consciously made. And even if he was forever lost in a space in which time had no meaning, Sam Grant didn't regret it. Because he knew that if he pushed through his fear, he would get there. Find out what his subconscious had long figured out but refused to lay out in the open.

He knew this dream well. He'd been stuck in it for such a long time, he could morph the reality around him at will, bring it all to that one point where everything sizzled with energy, when the darkness shivered in the way of the light.

But each time the light came close, fear would take hold of him, bury him and he'd be back inside the darkness.

I'm exhausted, Sam. I need you back.

Tom's voice rang inside the nothingness, cutting into him, more desperate every time.

"I need to do this," he said between his teeth. "I kissed Angie in my dream and I need to know why."

Tom didn't answer. Sam didn't even think he would. It was the kind of confession that made Tom physical, so a punch would be a lot more likely than words. Except Tom couldn't hear him, not really. Hell, Sam wasn't sure Tom was even alive, let alone actually talking to him. This was just some crazy mumbo jumbo inside his own head.

He focused again and felt the sizzling. The fear came, but he pushed it back, focusing on the light, stretching it around him until the void disappeared. And where once there was black, now there was white.

It was not an improvement. His eyes stung from the unnatural glow, but he'd finally done it. He'd finally broken through the barrier in his nightmare to reach the place everything had an answer. Except it was empty and quiet.

"This better?"

Kyle stood to his right, leaning his shoulder against nothing just so he could look cool, like he usually did.

"Better than empty space."

"You could make me a talking sandwich," Kyle pointed out.

"Let's not go there. This is crazy enough as it is. Are you still alive?"

"You don't know that."

"That's why I'm asking."

"Kid, I'm inside your head. Why would you even think I know more than you do?"

Hallucination-Kyle made a very good point. But he still projected that feeling of safety Sam was certain he couldn't make up. He looked so real. And out of all the people in the world, his parents included, Sam had conjured him because he was the definition of safety. And the one person Sam could hear any uncomfortable truth from.

"Why did I kiss Angie?"

"You're dissatisfied with Christine," Kyle said instead.

"Um, what?"

"You don't know if I really love you," Christine said from behind him and Sam turned to face her. She wore a yellow sundress, her hair curled and flung over her shoulder, and smiled at him as if standing inside his crazy hallucination was the most normal thing in the world. And she made a very good point.

"You think I'm out of your league so you suspect something must be wrong," Christine continued on the same serene tone. "There's always a catch, and you're mine. Of course I want something from you. You're rich, good looking and famous."

"But so am I," Kyle interjected, "and so are Jerry, Jimmy and Tom."

"Geography," Christine said with a shrug.

"Um..." This was getting confusing. "What does any of this have to do with me kissing Angie?"

"You want someone like Angie," Christine said. "My face, her personality. You two get along a little too well. I'd steer clear of Tom if I were you."

Sam pondered on this, and even if he recognized there was some truth in what made-up-Christine was saying, he didn't want Angie. Sure, he did like her, but he also liked Jessie and Kay. Yet, he hadn't dreamed about kissing them.

"You're too afraid of me," Kyle said amused. "Though Tom is scarier."

Sam had to agree with that. Maybe he did actually like Angie a little bit more.

"She's more like you than the others," Christine agreed. "A bit of a screw up, really."

"But I love you," Sam said.

Christine just smiled then vanished into thin air, like she'd never been there. Fortunately, Kyle stayed, though he no longer looked amused. Annoyance took its place and the air around him seemed to darken. It became clear why once Freider joined the picture. And maybe now was the best time to ask the all consuming question.

"Why does Snitch Gravel want to kill us?" he asked.

"Why don't you believe my lies?" Freider asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Do I really need to answer that here?"

"You can't have the truth."

That wasn't true. Sam was sure he knew something relevant, or his father wouldn't have shown up there. But he refused to speak, and every time Sam tried to force him by willpower, the edges of his vision grew hazy, as if the darkness was fighting to return and take away his answers.

"The picture." Freider took out the battered picture of Kyle and Kay. It had a sepia tone, and as Sam squinted at it, he realized the people in that picture weren't really Kyle and Kay. But they looked so much alike.

"We were denied and you know it," Kyle said. "That's why you feel safe as long as we're together. You should stop projecting Mom and Dad's image on us. We're not your parents."

Where had that come from? But if Kyle said it, it had to be true. Especially because he was right. Kyle was his brother and Kay was... His sister-in-law if he were completely honest. Because there was no way on this green earth those two weren't ending up together.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Freider snarled.

"Why would you?" Sam demanded. "Why not let them be happy?"

"There's a reason they were denied. You should've learned that from the moment I beat you the first time for playing detective and snooping where you didn't belong."

Anger flared inside Sam and the edges of the whiteness shook. He knew he should calm down, or he'd be plunged back into darkness, but he couldn't help it. This was insane, inhumane, but it explained everything.

The fear in his early years had translated into certain things he'd never been able to explain as an adult. His disgust for everything about detective work, his inability to learn French because his mother and grandmother kept yelling at each other and he associated the language with abandonment. Even his fear of heights stemmed from his childhood fears, because he'd fallen. At one point, he'd fallen.

Sam, you need to come back. Come on.

Sam couldn't focus. His eyes were trained on his father, feeling a rabid need to strangle him, make him disappear. And with his anger came the darkness. It swallowed everything again, leaving his head pounding and the bitter taste of bile in his mouth. This was it. Whatever wall Freider had put up through violence was too sturdy to break through.

You're driving me insane.

"I don't want to. I want to wake up."

Tom appeared in the darkness, clear as day, a smile on his face. He reached out his hand and Sam took it.

The moment he did, everything felt different. His body was heavier and his head was groggy, his thoughts incoherent. Heat filled his veins, traveling through him, bringing with it a numbness he associated with lack of movement. His head swam and sickness crept up his throat. But despite all that, in his confused state, he realized one thing. 

He was asleep, on the verge of waking up.

And that was exactly what he was going to do.