At the sound of a low raspy cough, I sprung my head up. He was alive. He was mumbling something. “What is it, Michael?” I leaned my ear closer to his lips, so I could hear him.

“Promise,” he whispered.

“Anything, promise what?” I asked urgently.

“Promise me you’ll stay away from him?” I turned my head, and my eyes met his. We were only inches away from one another.

I was confused. “Away from whom?” I asked, shaking my head.

He slowly turned his head to the left, looking by the house. I watched as he gradually lifted his hand to point, but when my eyes followed its direction, I froze. Marcus was standing by the burning house, holding a container of gas in one hand and a box of matches in the other. His legs were spread apart, his shoulders were hunched over, and his eyes were dark. What scared me the most was the wicked smile that spread across his face.

“Mia…Mia, wake up!” I was awakened by the sound of Marcus’ voice and a slight nudge to my shoulder. My eyes popped open. My breathing matched my rapid heartbeat. My throat and mouth felt dry. “You were having a bad dream. You were screaming and crying.” He looked worried. Sitting up, I leaned against the headboard. It was just a dream; it was just a dream, I repeated over and over in my head until my breathing and chest calmed to a normal pace. “Are you okay?”

Looking at him, I wanted to cry. I wanted him to hold me to keep me safe, but he was the person I was afraid of at that moment. My nightmare was about him. I needed him to go away for a few moments. “Marcus, my throat is really dry. Can you grab me some water, please?” He nodded and jumped out of the bed, leaving the room.

Dropping my shoulders in relief, I buried my hands into my damp sweaty face. Oh God, I hadn’t had a dream about my brother in months. Finally I did, and he was warning me about Marcus. I took a few deep breaths to control my anxiety, and Marcus stumbled back to my side, handing me a glass. I snatched it out of his hand and chugged the water. Ah, just what I needed.

After I was done, I placed the empty glass on the nightstand. Marcus was kneeling on the bed, cautiously watching at me. I wanted to cry or run. Instead I jumped over to him, wrapping my arms around him. He hugged me tightly, not questioning me about my dream, just holding me. How could my brother warn me to stay away when I felt the safest with Marcus? I knew my dream was more about my feelings of being afraid. So I said the one thing I didn’t want to: I told him how I felt. “Marcus?”

“Yeah, baby?” he said while kissing the top of my head.

“I love you, but I’m scared.” I whispered.

His shoulders relaxed while letting out a heavy sigh. “I love you more than you’ll know, and I’m scared too.” Closing my eyes, I tightened my arms around him. Here we go, it was either up or down from here. It would definitely be a rollercoaster, but I was willing to take the ride.

Chapter Fourteen

Marcus’ house was absolutely beautiful—everything you could dream of and more. It was probably as large as his beach home. The entrance was similar as well with a metal fence. He had to plug in a code before it opened. The driveway was surrounded by overgrown trees and an amazing landscape. The miniature mansion was a brick colonial home with white pillars and an oversized front porch. The interior was decorated and styled in a similar manner as his office with dark hardwood floors, light colored walls, antique oversized furniture, and modernized kitchen and bathrooms.

“Your house is beautiful.” I said twirling around in his bedroom, the final stop of the tour. “You live here alone?”

“No, my brother and his daughter live here with me.”

“Your brother has a daughter? You have a niece?” He’d never mentioned that before.

“Yes, she’s eight, going on twenty.” He laughed while grabbing my bag and unpacking my clothes into an empty drawer.

“Oh, is he married?”

“He was. His wife was killed in a car accident a few years ago.”

“Oh.” I whispered, feeling stupid for asking the question. His brother was raising a little girl all on his own. That had to be hard. But then I thought of my father raising us on his own, and he’d made it seem so easy. “What’s her name?”

“Brielle. She’s adorable. We call her Elle. She is very entertaining. You’ll meet her later on today.” I nodded. I’m not used to being around children. I wasn’t sure exactly how she’d react to me; I felt nervous. “Want to go for a swim?” he asked.

“Okay.” I smiled.

“Cannon ball!” Marcus was in midair: knees pulled in his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. His round-shaped body slammed into the pool, and water splashed all over the patio and the lounge chair I was lying on.

“Marcus!” I laughed.

His head popped up from under the water, his hair was soaked and his smile was irresistible. “Come on!” The last hour he had been trying to persuade me to do a cannon ball. I’d never done it before, and I was scared I’d slip and break a bone. I know I’m a sissy, but growing up I never broke a bone in my body. I guess that was one of the benefits of living with two over protective men. Standing up and walking towards the edge of the pool, I dipped my toe in the water. It was warm. Biting the side of my bottom lip, I wondered if I should just do it.

He watched as I took a few steps back. I tried to do it twice but stopped before actually jumping. I knew he was skeptical, thinking it wouldn’t happen just like the other two times. Taking a deep breath, I ran for it. When my feet hit the edge of the pool, I jumped, hugging my legs into my chest. My eyes were shut tight. I took a deep breath when I felt my behind hit the water. Then I was under water. Opening my eyes, I smiled because I made it without getting hurt.

Untangling my legs, I waved my arms until I was above water. Marcus was swimming in my direction. I couldn’t take the smile off my face. It was so much fun! He reached me, grabbing my face with both his hands. “I told you! You did great!” I giggled. He was so happy that I did it that it made me laugh.

“It was fun! I want to do it again,” I said. He laughed and kissed me. Of course the cannon ball could wait. I’d rather kiss my man.

Wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, I tightened my grip. I wanted to be closer to him. It’s like I was addicted; I could never have enough of him. He was everything I wanted and everything I needed. My dream had just been portraying my fears of allowing him in. Since I told him I loved him this morning, all of my fears went away. No relationship is perfect. I knew that. I also knew that we’d have issues that we’d have to resolve along the way, but it was all worth it. As long as I had him by my side, we’d be okay.




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