When I saw her lying in her bed, fast asleep, I swear I almost killed over. My hand lowered to my side and I stepped inside her room, walking slowly until I was beside her bed.
She was on her side, her cheek pressed in her pillow, hair all over the place, just like it always was. I should have left right then and there. I would have been a better person if I did. But apparently, I was a selfish asshole. I let my fingers touch her hair, brushing it back and tucking it behind her ear.
She breathed deeply, sound asleep, not feeling the electricity, which was making me sweat; it was so hot.
I wished I could lean down and kiss her, press my lips through her cheeks. Honestly, I wished I could do a lot of things to her, things that could only be done behind closed doors. But that would never happen. Not if I couldn’t fix the vision from happening the way that it was supposed to.
She let out a long sigh, like she sensed I was there. I decided it was time to go. I started to turn as she rolled over on her back. And what I saw made me sick. Her hands were tied, the rope cutting into her wrist. Blood was all over her neck and her shirt and it looked like … I swept her hair from her neck. Bit marks.
“What the?” I fell to my knees, placing my hands on her cheeks, my skin burning from her touch. “Gemma. Can you hear me?”
Her eyelids began to flutter open, but she looked like she was struggling. I pressed my hand to her cheek, her forehead. God, if he turned her I was going to kill him.
“Alex,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering open. Then she was looked at me, like she thought she was dead. Her violet eyes wide and glossed over.
“You’re okay,” I said, but wasn’t so sure.