CHAPTER 9

 

I woke up to a dry throat and a drenched core.

Oh God, I was dreaming about Julian taking me, and now I was horny.

I tossed and turned just to ease the ache between my thighs, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t quite reach that pleasurable euphoric state with my fingers alone. And I couldn’t get to sleep until something was done.

I got up and walked around the room, thinking a little exercise might help. But it didn’t. A cold shower. Yes, I’ll have a shower.

I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Taking off my clothes, I turned the water until it was slightly cold and stepped in.

I was still feeling hot. My breath came out in short fits. I leaned against the stall and took care of myself again.

I cried, shouting out Julian’s name as I climaxed. Spots of bright lights floated before my eyes. Finally sated, I cleaned myself and wrapped a towel around my naked body.

I’d already put on my clothes and was about to head back to my room when a distinct sound reached my ears.

“Help me.”

Huh? It sounded like someone was calling for help. But who is it? We’re on a yacht. In the middle of the sea. It’s only me and—

I scrambled into the living room and flicked on the dim light.

Julian was sleeping on the couch, his face slightly rough and overshadowed with lines. He looked worried in his sleep. But he was asleep.

So who made that sound, then? Oh God. Am I being haunted?

I was about to hurry back into my room when a hoarse, helpless sound cried out again.

“Help me. Help me.”

I turned back and saw Julian moving his lips.

It was Julian. He was calling for help. But his eyes were closed. Julian must be having a nightmare.

I rushed to him and crouched beside him.

“Julian. Wake up.” I rattled him.

But he didn’t wake. By this stage, he was thrashing his head about, begging for someone to help. Tears dripped from the corners of his closed eyes.

“Julian! Julian!” I roused him again, shaking him even harder, but he still didn’t wake. I panicked. What is wrong with him? “Julian, wake up.”

Still, he didn’t hear my voice. He continued to thrash about, kicking whatever or whoever it was attacking him in his sleep.

I didn’t know what to do. So I did the only thing I could think of. I slapped him hard.

Julian went still. I went to hug him, wrapping my arms about him and wiping at his tearstained cheeks.

Julian’s face was layered with a mask of sweat, my shirt sticking to him. His hair was matted to his forehead. His body was warm to the touch, but he was shaking in my arms. He looked miserable. And vulnerable.

I continued to hug him and sooth him, quietly calming him with my voice and the touch of my fingers running through his damp hair.

Julian slowly registered his surroundings, fluttering his eyes open. He pulled back and stared at me. And then his eyes landed on the rose pendant necklace around my neck. He flicked his eyes back to my face. And his gaze stayed like this. For so long. Until—

“Mama. Don’t go,” Julian cried suddenly, grabbing hold of my shoulders and sobbing into my shirt. “Don’t leave me here. Don’t let them hurt me.”

He was shaking all over, his fingers digging into my flesh, his hands restlessly grabbing hold of my shirt as if searching for a place to rest, for a place of sanctuary and security. Finally, he found them at the small of my back, linking his fingers together, binding me tight in the circle of his arms. He brought his head to rest at the crook of my neck, sobbing softly into my shoulder again, speaking about not wanting someone to hurt him.

“Julian.” My arms went around him too, holding him close against me. “It’s me, Kimberly. I’m not your mother.”

Julian didn’t hear me. He kept mumbling into my shirt, his tears sliding down his cheeks. “I don’t want them to hurt me anymore. I’m scared. Take me with you. Take me to the other side. I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

“Julian.” I began to cry too. My heart felt an indescribable pain, different from his betrayal. I couldn’t understand this feeling, but it hurt me so much, to the point I couldn’t breathe. Tears shed out of my eyes like a leaking tap. I couldn’t stop myself. I hugged him, rocked him to try and make him feel better. But Julian continued crying, making my heart break even more.

“I don’t want to live anymore. I feel so lonely. Please don’t go,” he cried out, again and again, his hands binding around me tighter, like he might lose me if he didn’t hold on strong enough.

“Julian. Don’t do something stupid. You have me. You have me,” I cried, hugging him back just as fiercely.

I was stupid. I was spouting nonsense. This person who spoke had the mind of a ten-year-old. Julian the adult would never speak like this. But this was his past. Clearly, something must have happened to him for him to have this kind of nightmare.

I continued to pacify him, soothing him and consoling him with my words and fingers on his hair. Our tears mixed together. Our voices cried in sync. I rocked him. He rocked me. Until gradually his thrashing stopped. And he stilled.

A warm hand lightly cradled my cheek, caressing my skin, gently wiping the tears at the corners of my eyes. I closed my eyes, sinking my face into that warm palm.

“Kimberly?” That deep baritone voice was back. Julian the adult was back. “Kimberly, why are you crying?”

I hugged him. So tight I didn’t want to let go. I was scared he might go back to that nightmare, afraid he might do something stupid in his sleep, like kill himself with a knife. I’ve heard of cases where people had nightmares and would harm themselves in their unconscious state. I hugged him with all the strength I possessed, giving him my life energy.

“Kimberly, tell me. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” This time he was the one who wiped at my tearstained cheeks. This time he was the one who removed the wet strands of hair from my skin.

But how could I tell him he had a nightmare? How could I tell him he wanted to go with his mother to the other world?

I should have known something was odd. Back when we were good together, he had a nightmare once, but I didn’t think it would go to this extent.

I didn’t know how his mother had died. I never asked him. Maybe I should have, before we fought, before I found out he manipulated me. Maybe then I’d be able to gain a better understanding of his complex personality, of what drove him to use me as his pawn.

“Kimberly, what’s wrong? You’re worrying me.” His face was sketched with worry lines. The room was dark, but I could make out those worried eyes, illuminated by the bright moon outside.

“Julian,” I sobbed into his shirt, not releasing my hold around his neck. “Make love to me. Make love to me. I miss you.”

“Kimberly,” he whispered my name softly, threading his fingers through my hair gently. And this time, I felt his love. It was like we loved each other again, like in Miami, when he came to me during the night.

I hugged him with all my strength, giving him the comfort and love he deserved. He’d lost his mother at a young age. He had no one to rely on. His father, Beau, didn’t care for him all that much. Fiona must have hated him. And Josh, he'd treated Julian like he was beneath him. Julian had no one.

Was it too much that he wanted to be the heir? Could he not have a small portion of what Josh had gained? Could he not have a little happiness in his life? Was that what drove him to attain the legacy?

God, Julian. If only you would forget about that legacy and you didn’t use me to gain title as heir, I would have taken you back into my arms. I would love you until my last dying breath.

But even knowing he'd used me, I still didn’t let him go. I continued to hold him tight, sobbing into his shirt.

“Kimberly, please tell me. What’s wrong? Is it me again? Have I hurt you again?”

“Julian, please, make love to me. Make love to me.” I could only shake my head. I couldn’t say anything more. All I wanted was for him to feel me. Only me. I wanted him to remove all those nasty memories of whatever it was in his head. Wash it away with my love. Let only the good memories of me be in his dreams. Forever.

Julian slowly removed my arms around his neck. He brought up his palms and cupped my cheeks, caressing my skin softly. He kissed me on my lips, on my temples, on my cheeks, and then gently at the corner of my swollen eyes.

“Please stop crying. I’ll make love to you. Tonight, I’ll make love to you.”

That night, I submitted myself willingly to Julian. There were no fights and no nasty words between us. Only soft, loving words filled the air.

I cradled his cheek, feeling his rough stubble and the remainder of his tears. I gazed into his tormented grey eyes as he thrust into me, his breath hot on my skin.

With each push, I prayed he’d forget about his nightmare, prayed he’d only have me in his heart. And I prayed, before climax hit me, Let me be the one to heal you.

 

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