Chapter 137: Nightmare

Dawn’s Point of View

Somebody was touching my legs, at first I thought it was just a feeling, but the grip came back even stronger.

I moved back, trying to evade the rough hands crawling up my skin. A small, painful moan escaped me as I felt the air knocked out of my lungs.

My eyes were squeezed tightly shut. I tried to open them, but I couldn’t.

Who was it? Who was this person pressing me down against the bed? Was it Logan?

Wait… wasn’t he on the bed?

I tried to open my eyes again, but all I could see was darkness. Or maybe my eyes were already open, and I simply couldn’t see. I liked it when Logan touched me.

A familiar scent hit my nose, alcohol mixed with drugs, Logan didn’t smell like this, and he didn’t feel like this too.

I didn’t understand it... it wasn’t Logan… it was him.

But how was that possible?

“Uh, let me go.” Another moan escaped me as the grip became harder and rougher. The hands moved up toward my thighs, dangerously close to places they had no right to be.

I finally managed to open my eyes, only to be met with gray eyes that had been dulled with age, and anger—this wasn’t Logan’s eyes as well. He grinned at me, I recoiled, repulsed by the breath, and the yellow teeth smiling at me.

A strangled gasp escaped me.

The moment I tried to scream, large hands pressed against my lips.

This wasn’t Logan, and I began to panic, because where is he? I was in the room with him.

Jackson.

My mind spiraled into madness.

I twisted and struggled, trying to shove him off me, but he didn’t budge.

My heart stopped when his fingers touched me in the most sensitive parts of my body.

No…

My protest was muffled against his large, sweaty palm.

Please, no.

My movements became frantic as I tried to escape, but it felt as though I were paralyzed, as if heavy boulders had been placed over all my limbs.

He wasn’t even holding me that tightly.

If I wanted to break free from his grip, I could, then why couldn’t I move my hands?

“Someone, please… please help me.” I cried as hot tears slid down my cheeks. I tried to push him away with my hips, but he wouldn’t fucking budge.

“You like it?” he whispered into my ear.

His breath was hot and reeked of alcohol and vomit. I felt myself gag, but there was nothing I could do.

I couldn’t move.

He rubbed against me, and instead of pleasure, all I felt was disgust.

“No. Please, please stop. Please.” I couldn’t remember what had happened before this. The last thing I remembered was being in the hotel room, lying on the couch because Logan had refused to sleep there.

And now Jackson was on top of me, touching me.

More hot tears spilled from my eyes.

Then I realized something.

I wasn’t going to let this happen… I wasn’t, I wasn’t a scared sixteen year old anymore. I’m older now, and stronger.

I pushed, I fought, and screamed—God, I tried, but he was way stronger than I am.

Just when I was about to give up, I felt something else someone was shaking me.

“Dawn, wake the fuck up! Wake up!” I heard a familiar voice in the distance. A familiar scent reached my nose, almost as if it was slowly pulling me out of the nightmare, dulling my senses and comforting me at the same time.

My consciousness began returning.

Jackson was a dream.

Just a dream.

But I still couldn’t wake up.

I was trapped inside the horrifying nightmare. I could still see his eyes, still see that wicked grin on his face.

I just needed to open my eyes, but it was as though I had forgotten how. I sobbed violently, my entire body trembling.

“Dawn, it’s me. Wake up. I’m here. Nothing is going to hurt you. I’m right here.”

It was Logan’s voice, but it wasn’t the arrogant boy who used to push me around and bully me. He sounded like a man who was terrified of losing everything that mattered to him.

I gasped, my lips quivering, and slowly, my eyes opened.

The moment I saw him, I burst into tears again.

I sobbed uncontrollably, and Logan immediately pulled my trembling body against his chest. His large arms wrapped around me protectively, almost like a blanket shielding me from the nightmare.

But I couldn’t stop crying.

My fingers curled into the shirt Logan was wearing, and hot tears continued to roll down my cheeks, staining and soaking his shirt.

I didn’t know how long we sat there, but Logan said nothing.

His warm arms remained wrapped around me, one hand resting against the back of my head as his fingers gently tapped against it, soothing me like I was a child.

I cried for as long as I needed to.

And eventually, I stopped—not because I felt better, but because I was exhausted.

Logan slowly pulled me away from him. His blue eyes traced every inch of my tear-stained face.

“Was it a bad dream?” he asked softly.

I froze.

I didn’t know what to tell him, and this wasn’t the first time he had seen me like this, he was right to ask questions. But no matter what, I had never found the strength or courage to tell anyone what had happened to me before.

But tonight, I was terrified.

It felt as though if I didn’t tell Logan, Jackson was going to crawl through the window at any moment and hurt me all over again.

“My former stepfather used to come into my room and touch me,” I blurted out.

Tears spilled from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. “I thought I’d forgotten about it all. I thought… I thought I was s-strong enough now.”

My breathing hitched, my voice trembled, and my words broke apart between each sob.

“That son of a bitch,” Logan cursed under his breath.

“He was here just now.” I gripped Logan’s shirt even tighter. “I-I saw him,” I whispered. “It felt so real.”

My fingers tightened around the fabric as though I was afraid that if I let go, he would disappear.

“He was on the couch,” I sobbed. “He held me. He touched me.”

Logan’s fingers slipped gently into my hair before he cupped my cheeks between his hands, forcing my tear-filled eyes to meet his.

He forced me to meet his eyes. I couldn’t make out his expression clearly because my vision was blurred by the tears streaming down my face, but his voice was clear and firm.

“No. No one was in this room. It was just you and me. I promise you, no one can get in here to hurt you. Not on my watch.” His thumb gently wiped away the tears rolling down my cheeks. “If anyone dares to come in here and hurt you, I’ll break their neck before they even get the chance to touch you.”

He pulled me into another hug. “You’re mine. Nobody gets to touch you.” His arms tightened around me. “I’m here. Don’t be scared.”