As they rounded a path of trees blocking the view to the house, Heaven sensed the push of Layne’s energy before her eyes found his car. She’d seen him more in the last few days than in the last three months. Funny how much that would have unsettled her before. But not now. Not when having him around put Dylan at ease.
And her.
“Something’s on your mind, sweetie. My stomachs churning so wickedly, I feel like I could be sick.”
Heaven met Delia’s gaze, debating on asking her one of the many questions tumbling in her mind. There was so much she didn’t know. So much that Delia could explain. If she wanted to talk about it.
“I have questions, Delia. Questions Dylan can’t answer. But I think you can.”
The car rolled to a stop before Delia shifted into park, killing the engine a second later. “I’ve been waiting for you to come to me. I knew you wanted to, but you had reservations. You still do, and I understand why. But you can trust me, Heaven. I’ll do my best to give you the answers I have.”
Gazing at the front door, Heaven wondered if Dylan would come looking for her right away. He could sense her. The way his energy fluttered with relief said as much. She doubted he would give them long before he came searching. As many questions as she had she could talk to Delia for hours.
“I know I have abilities because Dylan saved my life, but is it possible that my abilities could change? Or heighten?”
“Can you explain how they’ve changed?”
What a loaded question. One she couldn’t explain in full. At least not yet. “Dylan and I decided to test our abilities at the engagement party. Both of us focused on our friends and family, seeing how well we could pick up on their emotions. Dylan compared their energy to white noise. He couldn’t make out much.” She shifted her eyes back to Dylan’s mother. “But I had a different experience.”
The expression on Delia’s face didn’t come as a surprise. The way her brow shot upward. How every ounce of her attention lay at Heaven’s feet. “How so?”
“No one’s energy compares to Dylan’s. Our connection supersedes everything. But, I did feel other energy. Like my sisters. I could read both of them with ease.”
“Are you reading their emotions or their minds?”
Good question, though she didn’t know how she could tell the difference. “Just emotions. I think. I don’t know their thoughts, but when I sense a certain emotion, I get impressions.”
A tiny crease built between Delia’s eyes. She turned to face the steering wheel, following the circle pattern with her fingertips. “Impressions? Like a vision?”
“I don’t see anything, but the feeling is powerful. It’s like my soul knows what’s going on with the person I’m reading.” She wished she could explain this better. Even as the words rolled off her tongue, her mind ached with confusion.
Yet Delia didn’t seem fazed. She barely blinked an eye as she shot off the next question. “Does Dylan know about all of this?”
“Yes, though he doesn’t have any answers. Just a theory. He thinks we have to have a strong connection to another person in order to get a good reading on them. He and I are soul bound. My sisters and I are blood bound.”
Delia unfastened her seat belt. She said nothing while she removed the keys from the ignition and opened the door. Then her eyes made it back to Heaven. “Can you sense other people or just your sisters?”
She didn’t want to answer that question. At least, not when it came to Layne. But maybe she didn’t have to reveal that information. “I can sense other people. Like you, Delia. When we were at the bridal shop, I knew that storm upset you. And I know that it has something to do with Nate.”
A half choke, half laugh passed through Delia’s lips. “Well, I can’t deny that you’re picking up on my emotions. My concern with the storm did have something to do with Nate. Unusual weather can be omens of things to come.”
“Omens? Does that mean something bad is about to happen?”
Reaching her hand over the armrest, Delia wrapped her fingers around Heaven’s hand. “With the storm we just had, it means things are about to get bat shit crazy, sweetheart.”
Lovely. Hadn’t things already reached that level? For God’s sake, Nate tried to— “Is Nate like us, Delia?”
“Beg your pardon?”
This woman’s ability to physically mask her emotions marveled Heaven. Twice in one day she’d tried playing it cool. Would have succeeded at pulling it off around someone else. Someone that couldn’t read her energy.
“He tried to kill me, Delia. I don’t know how, but I think you do. That’s why you showed up, yesterday. And why I’m still alive. He has some type of power, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Nate has abilities. But the less you know about them, the better.” Her eyes drifted from Heaven’s face to the front door.
Dylan was standing there. Heaven could feel the weight of his eyes on her though she hadn’t looked his way. Guess this conversation was over, but at least she had some answers. Except one. “I’ll let this go for now. Only because this is something Dylan should hear, too. But at least tell me this. Do I have another ability?”
“You do,” Delia answered, twisting in her seat until her feet met the ground. “You’re a Clairsentient, Heaven. These impressions you’re getting are real. It’s your ability to feel another person’s energy. Their psychic energy.”
A Clairsentient? How in the world did she develop that ability? It would explain why she sensed Delia and Nate’s energy, but not her sisters. Unless their bloodline linked them through some type of sixth sense.
But even that wouldn’t explain her ability to read Layne.
* * *
Dylan turned on his side, blocking the view of the waning moon from his site. He pulled Heaven closer, hoping the warmth of her body would chase away the chill in the air. His lips brushed her shoulder as his eyes moved toward the clock. Green digital numbers stared back at him, mocking his heavy eyes. Just past one. He blinked twice, making sure he’d read the time right. But the numbers didn’t change.
At this rate, he’d never fall asleep. All he could think about was the package that came for Heaven. The photo it contained. The haunting words at the bottom. And the person responsible for sending it.
His dad. This had to be his doing. No one else would mess with Heaven. Except Zeke. He had a grudge to settle with Dylan for beating him to a pulp. While he couldn’t put anything past Zeke, his gut seemed dead set on his father.
A soft whimper echoed in his ears. He cocked his head to the right, gazing at Heaven’s face in the moonlight. Whatever disturbance infected her sleep pulled at his soul. Smooth skin gathered between her eyes. And her lips, the ones that pressed against his a few hours ago, began to quiver.
He shouldn’t be surprised she was having another nightmare. Enough bullshit had gone down since her last one. And if she knew about the package, about the deranged message on the bottom of the newspaper clipping, there would be no more peaceful nights.
Another murmur slipped past her lips. Then she twitched her shoulder. He tightened his arm around her waist, focusing on their connection. Hopefully his positive vibes would chase away whatever negative energy had attached to her.
But the hopelessness continued to build. As did fear.
He should wake her. Pull her from the black abyss taking her under. Yet he didn’t get the chance. Heaven’s body twitched again. Then she thrashed. The grip he had on her waist loosened as she jerked into a sitting position, screaming.
“No!”
“You’re okay. Just relax.” His arms wrapped around hers as he cradled her body into his. The sob that broke from her chest shook them both. “Shhh,” he whispered. “It was just a dream, baby. You’re with me. You’re safe.”
The heat of her hand squeezed his upper arm. “Dylan?” Golden eyes gazed up to his. In an instant, an array of emotions passed between them. Emotions so strong, so powerful, it took his breath away.
He
r arms wrapped around his neck before he crushed her to his chest. “Clear your mind. Take some deep breaths and focus on us.”
Burying her face under his neck, she mumbled against his skin, “I can’t. The images…they’re burned into my mind.”
The ache in their bond constricted his chest until his breath grew as labored as hers. He fought to keep his thoughts intact. Even when the room began spinning.
“It’s not real. But I am. As are these arms wrapped around you. You’re in the safest place in the world.” His eyes fluttered shut when another sob racked her body. Damn it! What in the hell had she dreamed about?
“He’s coming after me. I know he is.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered, caressing her back. “My dad won’t hurt you. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
“I’m not talking about your father, Dylan.”
The heat of her body left his as she scooted off the bed. He couldn’t react to her departure. Could only replay her words in his head. If she thought someone else was after her, she must have sensed it. He knew she hadn’t found the package. Thanks to Layne. Yet something said this was about more than a dream.
Her fingers curled around her phone before she swiped the screen. A few taps later, she shoved it in his face. “I didn’t want to show you these because I knew you’d worry. But I can’t hide them anymore. Not after that dream.”
Dylan scrolled over the text message. Rather, two messages. From a blocked number. He gripped the blanket, throwing it off his legs. The cool carpet greeted his feet as he made his way around the bed. Then Heaven was in his arms. He pulled the phone from her hand, tossing it onto the comforter.
“Listen to me.” He cupped her face, bending down far enough to look her straight in the eye. “My dad will do everything in his power to scare you. Don’t worry about those texts. We’ll get your number changed before we leave to see your parents.”
“This isn’t your dad, Dylan. It can’t be. Not with the words this person used. You’ve angered a monster. ’ve been told that before.”
“By who?”
Her lips remained parted as she bit down on the lower one, holding it between her teeth until the skin whitened. Sweet peppermint rushed through his nose when she released it. “By someone who almost destroyed the life you gave me when we were born. My ex. Mick Jennings.”
* * *
Saying Mick’s name chilled Heaven to the bone. Like she had jinxed herself with the worst possible future. She’d spent most of her time trying to forget what little memories he left her. He’d already stolen the important ones. Of her and Dylan.
Nutcase.
Her eyes fell to her lap, where Dylan’s hands folded over hers. His knee kept brushing hers as he jiggled his leg against the mattress. She didn’t want to look in his eyes. Not when she could feel his pain reverberating in their connection. Could feel the way his heart throbbed with anger and guilt. She knew she should have told him about Mick long before now. But after the incident with Zeke, he had enough to deal with. Informing him that she’d had a prior stalker would have made matters worse.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t.” The heat of his hand curled around hers as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “I should be apologizing to you. I feel like such a failure.”
His hair spilled over his face when he hung his head. She pulled him closer until those dark strands pressed against her chest. “What are you talking about?”
“We’ve been connected since birth. I should have known you were in trouble. Should have picked up on your fear.”
“Like either of us knew what we were feeling back then. Don’t hold that against yourself, Dylan. You’ve been by my side since you first laid eyes on me. You saved me from the press, from Zeke hitting on me that night in the bar, and even later, when he tried to rape me.”
Dylan flinched when she spoke the words. Then he tightened his arms around her waist. “I should have been doing it since we were kids. Then you wouldn’t have been kidnapped by your psychotic ex. He wouldn’t have grabbed you from the frat party. Wouldn’t have chained you to a bed or pumped you full of mind altering drugs.”
Heaven cringed at the thought. Even if she couldn’t remember any of it happening, hearing about it still made her insides shake. Just like the first time Hope told her how she and Faith found her. How Mick took the knife he was using to cut off her clothes and came at her sister. How Faith grabbed the needle he used to drug her with, plunging it into Mick’s neck when he had Hope pinned to the wall with the knife at her throat.
Talk about guilt. Her sister nearly died that night, trying to save her. Both her sisters’ lives had been endangered. All because a psychopath couldn’t handle the fact that she didn’t want him.
“We can’t change the past, Dylan. We can only move forward.” She pulled his face up to hers, resting her forehead against his. “You’ve protected me since we’ve met and you’re still protecting me. I knew I had to show you those messages. You can’t protect me without knowing the demons I’ve faced before. We may be battling more than your father.”
“But you said they locked him away. How could he be sending you messages?”
“I don’t know.” She broke their embrace to move toward the window. There were no explanations for any of this. Granted, Mick wouldn’t be available for early parole for another year. Didn’t mean he couldn’t contact someone on the outside. Nate wasn’t the only person who could get someone to do his dirty work. “It doesn’t make any sense. All I know is what my gut is telling me. I haven’t seen the last of him.”
“Why would he warn you first? Wouldn’t he be making threats instead?”
“Who knows what goes on inside his warped mind. I can’t explain it.”
Warm arms circled her waist before the heat of his body pressed to her back. He held her there, not saying a word. Just pushing his love toward her.
And then they swayed. Slowly. Softly. His breaths played against her neck when he nuzzled it. She loved moments like this. When he worked his magic. Could make her forget anything bad had ever happened or would.
She should quit being selfish. Should run away with him like he wanted and disappear from all the craziness. Staying here forced him to face off with his dad. If her past was truly back to haunt her, she couldn’t she ask him to deal with that, too.
As if he could read her thoughts, his words tickled her ear. “I would fight a thousand men, even die a thousand deaths to protect you.”
“Dylan—”
His finger pressed against her lips. “Just hear me out. I don’t doubt you or the importance of anything you just told me, but I don’t think your ex is behind this. Not after the scene Dad made the other day. I’m willing to bet money that my dad has something to do with those texts.”
“But how do you explain the words? How could he have said the same thing Mick said?”
“Coincidence. It’s not like Mick’s the only person to make that type of threat. It doesn’t matter if he is behind those texts. I won’t let him hurt you, Heaven. I won’t let anyone.”
She didn’t say anything else. Not because she didn’t want to. Dylan spun her around to face him. He pressed his lips to hers before picking her up in his arms.
A second later, the bed greeted her back. The heat of Dylan’s body faded for a split second. Then returned, warmer than ever. She liked the feel of his weight pressing her against the bed, and the way his lips worked with hers as he positioned himself between her legs. She knew he wanted her to forget. About his dad. About Mick. Even the bad dream that woke her. Making love normally erased every thought. At least temporarily.
She needed it to work this time, too. Needed to forget the image that woke her from the dream. Dylan’s face. Broken. Bleeding. Void of life. And Mick Jennings standing above him. His hands dripping with Dylan’s blood.
* * *
He waited. Struggling to keep his deep breaths from making their way to her ear. He hadn’t exp
ected her to come to the window. If that asshole inside didn’t have his hands all over her, he might have spoken to her. Let her know she would be okay. That they would be together soon.
Each time he heard his voice, he wanted to punch something. The side of the house would do, though the brick and mortar might scuff up his hands. Eyeing his feet, he repositioned them against the terracotta. One little slip and he’d slide down to the edge. It had to be at least thirty or more feet, which wouldn’t feel too good if he landed on his back.
Unless he could transport in time.
He should just do it now. Not take a chance of one of them popping their head out the window and spotting him. Then things would get ugly. As much as he’d like to beat him down, he couldn’t risk upsetting her.
As the faint voices disappeared, he titled his head to listen. Maybe they’d fallen back to sleep. Perfect. He could get one last glimpse of her. Enough to get him through the next couple of days. Then he could get out of here.
But as he neared the window, another sound drifted from the room. Not really words, though it was her voice. He’d know that voice anywhere. The jerk was hurting her. It sounded like she was crying. Or in pain. Yes. She had to be in pain. Those moans said as much.
Then again…
Creeping around the corner, he squatted by the window, stretching his neck just far enough to get a better listen. The sound of her voice didn’t change much. And she was definitely groaning, though not in pain.
Dammit!
He eased around the edge of the window, adjusting his eyes to the dark room inside. But he didn’t need to. The moonlight hit the bed just right, silhouetting the body he could stare at for hours. Especially now, when she lay there, without a stitch of clothing on.
If it weren’t for him he could see the beauty of her body. See the perfect curve of her hips. The fullness of her breasts. Could even see the way her face contorted with pleasure. He should be evoking those sounds from her mouth. Not him.