January Dreams by Carrigan Richards (best fiction books of all time txt) 📕
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- Author: Carrigan Richards
Read book online «January Dreams by Carrigan Richards (best fiction books of all time txt) 📕». Author - Carrigan Richards
“Megan, please tell me you haven’t forgotten. Please.”
I chew on the inside of my mouth, but I can’t give an answer to the pleading man. “I’m sorry,” I whisper and bow my head.
“No, don’t be,” he says with clenched teeth. He lifts my chin with this finger. “Can I try something that might make you remember?”
“Yes.” I know he will show me a memory of us. It’s his gift.
His fingers gently caress my cheek down to my chin and his lips are on mine, hungrily attempting to awaken my memory. I can never forget the way his mouth moves with mine and how he pulls me so close against his body with such ardor.
I see a vision of us in the garden. He asks for my hand in marriage and I say yes, of course. He lifts me, holding me close, and gently places me on the ground. He leans down and whispers, “Don’t forget me.” I tell him that I could never forget him.
Vincent pulls away, searching for an answer in my eyes, but it isn’t there. I have no recollection of this. He sighs and drops his hands from my face. “I’ve lost you,” he says painfully.
“You haven’t lost me.” I place my hand on his. “It might take time. What happened for us to be apart?”
“What do you remember? Anything about your life here? Or is all you can remember your life with them?”
“With who?”
“You don’t even recall them? What did they do to you, Megan?”
“I don’t know. Who are ‘they’?”
“I saved you from them. He took you from me, but I brought you back. I killed him.”
“W-who?”
“He’s not important. Come with me. I will tell you everything I know. I should banish those who placed you in this retched room.”
I let him take my hands and we walk out of the cold room. The higher we go in the dark stoned building, the warmer it gets. As we climb the spiraling staircase, we pass windows that show a beautiful golden wheat field under a faultless blue sky. The field reaches for miles over rolling hills. I stop and watch the blades softly bend in the direction of the wind.
“Do you recall something?”
I shake my head.
Vincent frowns. He takes my hand, leading me up through another hallway and into a vast bedroom with long red velvet curtains and a canopy bed with sheer red drapes. The furniture is a dark wood, and all of my little trinkets are still here. The room is mine; I remember. Nothing looks out of place.
“I can’t believe you’re here with me. I’ve searched for you, centuries it seems. And now you’re here.”
He leans down and kisses me once more. His kiss provides me with yet another memory, but it is unclear, and I don’t feel his arms around me or feel the kiss.
Chapter Thirty
My eyes flutter open and it takes me a minute to remember I’m at Vincent’s. The TV is on and I’m still in his lap. His notebook is still open, and the room is dark as rain pours outside. I sit up slowly, feeling more tired than before. Heat fills inside me and chill bumps scatter all over my skin. My throat is still sore.
“If I knew my writing would put you to sleep, I wouldn’t have given it to you,” Vincent says.
I groggily look his way. “No, sorry. I’m just tired is all.”
“Are you feeling better?”
I shake my head and feel my throat. It’s definitely swollen. My head is throbbing. “I had the strangest dream.”
“What was it about?”
I hesitate, unsure if I want to tell him I’ve been having a constant storyline in my dreams. “Um, you and me. But the details are foggy.”
“Okay,” he says. “Did I at least kiss you?”
I smile.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I must be good if I’m in your dreams.”
I roll my eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s a quarter to three.”
My eyes open wider. “What?” Did I really sleep the whole time I’ve been here? “I slept for seven hours?”
“Yeah. Which tells me you’re getting really sick.” He frowns and moves closer to me.
“You were seriously passed out.”
“I’m a pretty heavy sleeper. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. You need the rest. You’re not going to work, tonight, are you?”
“I have to.”
“Meg, you really don’t look so good.”
“I don’t feel great.”
“Then I’ll take you home.”
“No, I can drive.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t. Let me take care of you. Just tell your parents I drove you home from school because you were too sick.”
Part of me wants to check on Casper, because for some reason I miss him. I don’t know if it’s because of the dream or the fact that he’s in bad shape. I know I shouldn’t be driving since I can barely keep my eyes open. “Vincent, it’s really okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Too bad you can’t stay here. I’m great at taking care of people.” He grins.
“I wish I could.”
We walk out to my car, and he kisses me. I slide into my seat, close my door, and check my phone for messages, and I got one from Cherry.
Where are you today? Did you hear Casper got into an accident? They say it was pretty bad.
Accident? Now I really feel bad for blaming Vincent. Poor Casper. What happened? I need to see him. The dream I had last night left me with a stabbing pang in the pit of my stomach. With the world spinning around me, I force
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