The North Star | COMPLETED ✔️

Chapter 15 ~ Nightmare

Chapter 15

A sleepless night and a bottle of Tequila put me to sleep before Bard could even think about speaking to me. But when I opened my eyes again, there was nothing but pitch black surrounding me.

"What are you doing Jessie?" his voice rang out from the darkness.

I froze on the thin mattress, ears poised for sound and blinking rapidly in an attempt to force my eyes to adjust. Each breath I managed was shallow and made inaudible by the sound of my pounding heart.

This is it.

He found me.

"Did you really think you could run?" Drake asked, voice deadly. "Did you forget the last time?"

The memory of that day came flashing to the forefront of my mind. My screams, his firm grip, the bite of the whip. The pain of the impact resurfaced as if it'd never left, and a whimper slipped past my lips. I felt the flesh split, the burn, the warm, sticky blood running down my back.

"Of course you remember. Then tell me, Jessie, why are you so fucking stupid!" The words seemed to explode with a force that shook the bed.

I collapsed in on myself. My only defense against him. Be smaller, be a harder target, protect your face. It was the same position I took up as a child when a rough foster family took me in, or at the group homes, when the bigger girls would come after me.

But none of it compared to Drake. His blows hurt the worst. His punches cut the deepest, because with him, it was someone I'd once trusted. With him, it was someone I'd loved.

He'd kill me, but it wasn't the thought of dying that bothered me. I'd welcome death by the time he was done. Drake enjoyed the pain. He lived for the torture. His eyes would go wild with an unnatural lust, and he'd relish it, just like he had before, over and over until I blacked out. I couldn't do it. Not again.

My muscles tightened. "Kill me!" I screamed. "Just let me die!"

He rumbled a laugh. "What's the fun in that?"

Large hands gripped my shoulders, pushed me to my back, and shook hard enough to rattle my bones.

I screamed.

"Wake up!" 

My eyes flew open, and Bard's face loomed just above mine. It was his hands holding me still. "Jesus Christ," he breathed, probing eyes more intense than ever. They cut like surgical tools, ready to extract whatever cancer had taken over me.

I broke away from him, rolled off the bed, and made a beeline for the bathroom. My muscles gave the minute the door slammed into place behind me, and I barely managed to grab the sink for support.

In the mirror, red puffy eyes stared back at me. Something I refused to do in wakefulness, always took me in my dreams. I'd cried.

A soft knock made me flinch.

"Are you alright?"

Never. "I'll be out in a minute." I kept my voice as emotionless as I could. He'd seen enough.

"Everyone is out back. Zeke is cooking." A long pause. "I'll make you a drink." His footsteps echoed away, and I heaved a heavy sigh.

"Time to go hang out with your new family," I whispered to my reflection, voice bitter.

She didn't look excited.

I wasn't getting any younger, standing there stupidly staring into a sink. Music already filtered through the walls.