IT STARTED THE way it always did. Voices, shouting, flashes of panic. Broken fragments of memories, images that blurred and blended into each other.
“You’re just like your father. Worthless.”
“He can’t read? What a surprise. He’s always been so stupid.”
“I’m not paying for anything extra for him. If he can’t keep up, that’s his problem.”
I was running, frightened, and out of breath. I needed to hide, to get away. Rocks hit my legs, and one even cutting into my neck. I felt the wet of blood as it seeped down the back of my shirt. I rounded the corner, ducking into the alley and behind the dumpster. I held my breath, trying to stay silent.
The running feet stopped, the voices angry.
“Where did he go?”
“Do you think he’s in the alley?”
“No, the little bastard is scared of his own shadow, he’d never go there. Let’s keep looking.”
Like a miracle, they moved on, but I stayed huddled, knowing they could come back. Knowing that even if I avoided them today, tomorrow they would find me.
My body shook as it recalled the number of beatings I’d taken at school. On the playground. At home. I could hear my gasps of air and feel the panic setting in. It wasn’t real, but I was useless to stop the barrage of fear coursing through me.
Slap.
“You worthless piece of shit! All you do is cause me disappointment!”
“Please, Momma, not the belt . . .” I sobbed.
“You’ll get that and more, you ingrate! I wish you’d never been born!”
The pain from her strike was so vivid, I felt my body jerk in reflex. I heard my own shout. Still, I couldn’t break through the grip keeping me trapped in the past.
The room was bright, the décor familiar. I realized I was in Greg’s office on that fateful day, staring at him holding a gun to his chin. Except, this time, it wasn’t him holding the gun. It was me. I had the gun pressed to my throat, staring at Bentley. He shook his head.
“You’re such a coward.”
“I don’t want to do this,” I begged. “Help me.”
“I’ll be glad when you’re gone. You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass. I’ve put up with you long enough.”
“No, Bent—we’re friends! You said so!”
He shrugged his shoulder dismissively. “No, you were useful, but I’m done. You’re a waste of space and the world would be better off without you.”
He turned, walking away and ignoring my pleas.
The room felt cold, the air making me shiver. I looked around. I was alone, abandoned by one of the few people I thought I could trust. I shut my eyes, pressing the cold steel to my skin.
“Stop.”
My eyes flew open at the sound of her voice. Cami stood in front of me.
“Don’t do this.”
“I have no choice.”
“You do.” She extended her hand. “Come with me.”
“No. I’m not what you need. I’m not what anyone needs.”
“If you do this, you’ll never find out.”
I shook my head, pressing the gun closer.
I felt her leave. The darkness surrounded me. I squeezed the trigger.
With a loud gasp, I bolted upright in bed. I drew in much-needed oxygen, desperate to try to tamp down my panic. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I fumbled with the light, snapped it on, and glanced around the room. Still terrified, I ran my hands over my torso and head, feeling for the blood, the hole left by the gun. There was nothing except a sheen of sweat covering my entire body.
Desperately thirsty, I reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, drained it, and tossed the bottle to the side. I hung my head, feeling my breathing return to normal and my heart rate slow down.
It was a nightmare. Not the first and certainly not the last I would have.
However, this one was different from before. More intense than ever. Vivid with the last image of Greg. I knew his death was still on my mind. It lingered on the edges, drilling itself down into my psyche and coming out when I tried to sleep.
The last time I’d had a really bad dream, I’d woken beside Cami. She had soothed me. Held me close and comforted me until I fell asleep again. When I was wrapped in her embrace, the terror hadn’t returned.
Tonight, I was alone, and I knew, without a doubt, it would come back. Repeatedly, until I dragged myself from my bed and started my day.
But that was how it had to be because, nightmare or not, the message of the dream was correct and always would be.
I was worthless, and she would never be beside me again. She deserved so much more than I could ever be for her.
I rose and grabbed a pair of sweat pants. I’d work out, then head into the office. At least there, I could be something other than what I was in my dreams.
I could be Aiden, friend to Bentley and Maddox. Part of a successful company. Respected by many, admired by some. Wealthy, humorous, and without a care in the world.
It was a great cover. No one ever looked past it to my real self.
The one I kept hidden.