Chapter 95 Nightmares
Unknown POV
The warehouse was dark except for a single bulb swinging overhead.
Troy Daniels lay on the concrete floor, his hands zip-tied behind his back, blood crusting around his nose and mouth. One eye was swollen shut. His ribs were definitely broken…I could tell by the way he wheezed with each breath.
Pathetic.
The door opened with a creak that echoed through the empty space.
I walked in slowly, letting his fear build up with wach step I took.
Troy’s head lifted slightly at the sound. His one good eye tried to focus on me, but the light was positioned so he couldn’t see clearly.
“Please,” he sobbed immediately, his voice thick with pain and terror. “Please let me go. I did my best. I swear I did my best.”
I said nothing. Just kept walking until I stood over him.
“Your best?” My voice was calm. Which from experience I knew made it worse somehow. “This is exactly the reason why we don’t trust worms. Or bottom feeders.”
“I’m sorry…”
“I gave you one task.” I crouched down beside him. “One simple task. I even gave you the video for free. Use it to get Melissa back. Drive a wedge in their relationship. Make Gavin doubt her. Make her doubt him. Simple, yes?”
“Yes, but…”
“But you couldn’t do that?” I stood again, looking down at this pathetic excuse for a man. “You had the opportunity and what did you do? You tried to blackmail her for money. Like the small-minded worm you are.”
“I’m sorry!” Troy tried to curl into a ball, but his broken ribs made him cry out. “I don’t know how her rich boyfriend found out. I was careful, I swear!”
“Careful?” I laughed. “You weren’t careful at all. You underestimated Gavin Cross. You thought because you had a video, you had power. But you don’t understand power, Troy. You never did.”
“Give me one more chance,” he begged, actually crying now. “Please. I’ll get what you need. I’ll do exactly what you say. I’ll… ”
“No,” I said quietly. “No, Troy. You’re done. You failed. And failures have consequences.”
“No, wait…please…I can still…”
“Shhh.” I crouched down again, closer this time. “No,” I continued. “I won’t give you another chance. Because you’re weak. And I don’t work with weak men.”
I stood and walked toward the door.
“Wait!” Troy’s voice was desperate. “What about the video? What about Melissa? You still need someone close to her!”
I paused at the door.
“The video is already useless,” I said without turning around.
“Please,” Troy sobbed. “Please don’t leave me here. I’ll die. I’ll…”
“Yes,” I interrupted. “You probably will. But that’s not really my problem, is it?”
I opened the door, letting light spill in from outside.
“Someone will find you eventually,” I said. “Maybe. Or maybe not. Either way, you’re no longer useful to me.”
“Who are you?” Troy gasped. “Who the fuck are you?”
I paused in the doorway, considering whether to answer.
“Enjoy dying, Troy. And thank you for teaching me what not to do.”
The door slammed shut, plunging the warehouse back into darkness except for that single swinging bulb.
Inside, Troy Daniels screamed and begged and cried.
…………
Melissa’s POV
The darkness was suffocating. I have been walking in darkness for a long time looking for a way out.
“Melissa.”
I spun around, but the hallway was empty. Just shadows stretching and twisting in the dim light.
“Dad?” My voice came out small. Childlike. “Dad, where are you?”
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
I turned again and he was there…standing at the end of the hallway, I could not see him properly but I knew it was him. I had memorized it from a thousand bedtime stories, a thousand hugs, a thousand moments before the day I lost him.
“Dad!” I shouted running toward him.But the hallway stretched longer with each step. No matter how fast I ran, he stayed the same distance away.
“Dad, please! Don’t leave me again!”
The hallway disappeared.
Now I was standing in our old living room…the house before the foreclosure. Everything was exactly as I remembered it. The worn couch. The family photos on the walls. The coffee table with the permanent water ring from Dad’s favorite mug.
My father sat in his favourite chair, but he looked really different, he looked really pale and there was blood, soaking his shirt. I remember this day was how I saw my father for the last time before he died.
“Dad!” I ran to him, falling to my knees beside the chair. “Dad, what happened? Who did this?”
He looked at me with sad eyes.
“You did, sweetheart.”
I looked down.
My hands were covered in blood. His blood.
“No,” I whispered. “No, I didn’t…I would never…”
“Then why did you let me die?” The question sent a stabbing pain into my heart.
“I didn’t…I was just a kid…I couldn’t…”
“You could have saved me.” His eyes were closing now. “You could have stopped it. But you were too scared, now you dine with my killer”
“Dad, no…please don’t go…”
“Wake up, Melissa.”
“What?”
“Wake up!” His voice was urgent now. Afraid. “They’re coming for you. They’re going to take everything. Wake up!”
“Dad… dad, wake up!”
I jerked upright in bed, my own voice echoing in my ears.
My chest was heaving. Sweat soaked through my pajama shirt, making it cling to my skin. My hair was plastered to my face and neck.
I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape.Just a dream. It was just a dream.
But it felt so real. Tears were already streaming down my face before I fully realized I was crying.
I drew my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, trying to make myself smaller. Trying to disappear into the darkness of my room.
But the dream wouldn’t leave me. It clung to my skin like sweat.
You let me die.“I didn’t,” I whispered to the empty room. “I didn’t. I was just a kid.”
But the guilt was there anyway. Had always been there. Lurking beneath every smile, every laugh, every moment of happiness.
The guilt of surviving when my father hadn’t.
The guilt of moving on when he couldn’t.
The guilt of falling in love with a man who probably lived in the same dangerous world that had killed my dad.
I couldn’t breathe. I stood on shaking legs and walked to the door.
My bare feet were silent on the carpet as I moved through the hallway. The penthouse was dark except for the city lights coming in through the windows, casting everything in blue-grey shadow.
I walked until I reached Gavin’s door.
Then I stopped. My hand lifted to knock, then fell back to my side.
What was I doing? It was the middle of the night. He was probably asleep. I couldn’t just…
Another sob caught in my throat.I needed him. I raised my hand again and knocked softly.
For a moment, nothing happened. I was about to walk away when the door opened.
Gavin stood there in nothing but pajama pants, his hair slightly mussed from sleep, his eyes alert despite the late hour.
The moment he saw my face, his expression changed.
He reached out immediately, his hand gentle as he lifted my face, tilting it toward the light so he could see me clearly.
His thumb brushed across my wet cheek. His eyes scanned my face…taking in the tears, the sweat-damp hair, the trembling.
He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t demand explanations.
He just bent down and lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing.
One arm under my knees, the other around my back, cradling me against his bare chest.
I buried my face in his neck and finally let myself break completely.