I look around the room and notice the untouched tray of food that Maria must have bought up this morning, and it is then I come to the conclusion that Little Red has slept all day. Walking across the room quietly, I take a seat in my armchair and continue to watch her sleep. It’s been a long time since there was a woman in my bed, but for some odd reason, I am not upset by it.

The peacefulness of the house and this room is soothing after a challenging day, and I rest my head on the back of the armchair as my eyes stay on her. Her dainty toes and fingers are painted in light pink, her long black lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. My gaze lowers as I take in the dip and curves of her body that I can make out underneath my white shirt that encases her. I have never been more jealous of anything in my life as I am of that damn shirt.

Pondering this situation, I can’t take my eyes off her. I should have brought her to our safehouse. I should have taken her somewhere else, anywhere else, at least that way my mind wouldn’t be this distracted.

But who she is remains a mystery. Does she have a family looking for her? Parents, siblings, a boyfriend? If she does, then they should be scared that she is sleeping in my bed, because I am not a man that parents want their kids to end up with. I am not the dream; I am the nightmare, and Little Red has stepped right into my arms.

6

Annie

I wake up and stretch my legs out along the smooth cool comfort of the expensive sheets underneath me. Slowly opening my eyes, I look out the window and see the dim morning light starting to peek out. I become aware very quickly that I have slept for all of yesterday and all of last night. A new record for me. It takes a while for me to get my senses, but when I do, I bolt upright. My head flicks around the room, until they land on him.

I can barely breathe as I take him in. A soft glow paints the room in orange, draping over him like a light shield. He is almost majestic as he sits in the large armchair like a king on his throne, staring with intense dark eyes and a menacing scowl. Wearing dark jeans, black boots, and a tight black top with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his body stays taut, his shoulders stiff, his jaw clenched. I notice his tattoos again, both on his forearms and his neck, and I wonder what they are and if they mean anything. His leg is crossed over his knee, his hands grip onto the arms of the chair, and his eyes are firmly set on me.