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I don’t even see him move, but the door unlocks.

As soon as it does, I’m out like a bullet, running away from the car and into the ocean of grass.

I hear Cillian swear from behind me, but I don’t slow down. I keep running until my lungs feel like they’re going to burst right out of my chest.

I run and run and run.

Like I can escape this fucked-up dream-turned-nightmare-turned-dream.

I only fall to my knees when I can’t run anymore.

The grass feels soft and comforting underneath my touch. I clench my fists and pull up tufts in each hand. Loose blades just sift through my fingers, falling off like fine dust, unwilling to be tied to anyone.

“Is there a reason you’re running from me like I’m the enemy?”

I look up at Cillian.

He’s run over here, too, but unlike me, he hasn’t broken a sweat. He doesn’t even look tired.

I fall back against the grass with my face to the dark, starlit sky.

He takes a step forward and looks down at me. His face outlined against the Irish heavens.

He’s gotta be a dream.

He’s too perfect.

I’m too broken.

“Are you real?” I ask in a delicate whisper.

He smiles. It’s like the sun has come out in the middle of the night.

“Take my hand,” he says, stretching it down towards me, “and find out.”


Tags: Nicole Fox Kovalyov Bratva Erotic