~7

Quinn

I hated the way this man made me feel. I hated the way I trembled under his gaze and touch.

Want. Fear.

It was one or the other, and the possibility of each fueled the fire that burned in my lungs.

Our eyes held each other in an intense stare-down, none wishing to back down.

The gray in his eyes flickered from confused to angry every now and then. Like he wasn't even sure he was looking at the right woman. I struggled to make sure mine conveyed my anger, rather than the lust that consumed me simply by being close to him.

It irritated me that even in this horrifying dream, I still felt irresistibly drawn to this man like magnet to a pole. Dead or alive, I should hate him. I should hate the way his cologne makes me dizzy with fluid ease. I should hate the way those dark, long lashes flicker with distrust.

No, I hate him.

When he spoke again, his voice was like gravel stones against my face. “Do you really think I tried to kill you?”

I said nothing, unblinking as I observed the undeniable reflection that returned my stare pointblank through the grays of his irises.

Again, blond hair.

Which made this entire shenanigan more difficult to grasp.

What happened to the waves and waves of my beautiful ginger hair?

With a sigh, Luciano released his grip on my wrist and turned away from me. “You're sick in the head if you don't remember what happened before your accident, Lilith. And that's more reason why I have to get you back to the fucking hospital.”

Lilith. Accident…

Perhaps, was it the same one that aired on the TV in the Baron penthouse? The accident Samira panicked about?

Oh, Sam. Your bestfriend’s officially going insane. Poor sam. How much would she be screaming her heart out right now?

Did I really become the richest woman in Chicago, overnight? How was I alive in a different body? What happened to my actual body? Slim curves and beautiful ginger hair and enchanting green eyes?

Panic started to eat from deep in my stomach as I realized that things had gone awfully downhill after I met the Draven brothers.

I really did meet them. A dream could never be this long and…real.

One had killed me, and one had somehow revived me. And now, because of some sort of beef going on between these brothers, I was trapped in another body.

Luciano tossed me a careless glance as he planted his hands on the wheel. “You better strap in this time.”

Thankfully, the rest of the ride passed in a long, uncomfortable silence. Uncomfortable as it was, I managed to collect a bit of my thoughts. To stop and breathe in lungfuls of air. To think without having his face in mine, eyes like steel searching the depths of my soul for a secret I wasn't sure existed.

In less than fifteen minutes, the large edifice of a hospital with a red-cross sign at the top floor, loomed into view.

A click cut through the silence and a thick film crawled up the walls of the windows. We were shrouded in a bit of darkness, but I could still clearly see what was happening outside. I could bet however, that none of the 9-5ers outside, with IDs swishing side-to-side from their necks and cameras ready in their hands, could see a glimpse into the car.

“These reporters are fucking vultures,” Luciano’s hard line of a mouth murmured as the car slowed into a crawl.

The car eventually stopped moving inside a high-end, spacious parking lot. But the engine kept running.

When I turned, he sat there with stiff shoulders and a tight jaw, hands still on the wheel. “You don't expect me to get the door for you, do you?”

I guess this was my cue to..leave.

Brimming with irritation and subtle exhaustion, I got out and slammed the door shut.

Did I even for a moment expect him to be the same gentleman that had captured my heart sometime ago? He'd probably done whatever he did to enchant me because he needed me weak, in order to steal my home from me. That was the only plausible conclusion I could come to.

I watched in quiet surprise as he sped off, tires screeching against the asphalt so loud I slapped my hands over my ears. “Dickhead.”

For a moment, I stood there wondering what to do next. What path to take in this dream, that would lead me back to my fucking life. As Quinn Parker.

Another car screeched into the lot and I looked up the same time a car door slammed shut.

The violet-eyed stepbrother from earlier looked furious as he approached me.

“That bastard really left you out here?” he queried, hooded eyes searching for my face carefully. The usual mischief that had sparkled in them when he kissed me was gone.

He began to reach for my wrist and I took a swift step back from him. I tilted my chin up to meet his gaze, folding my arms.

“Why did you do that earlier?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment. Then he chuckled and hooked his thumbs in his jeans. “You mean, why I kissed you?”

I stared at him pointedly, knowing quite surely that if this man was really Lilith Montclair’s stepbrother, then that kiss shouldn't have happened.

With a sigh, he flicked his wrist in a careless wave. “Come on, let's get you inside first. Your health takes priority here.”

He took my hand and I just let him because there was nothing I could do at this moment, other than play along.

After a short elevator ride, we arrived at a busy floor. He led me to a ward that was a little crowded for a woman of such status as Lilith Montclair.

Someone was yelling in the ward. Yelling and throwing things.

“How could one tiny woman slip through the fingers of your security?! This was why I was against moving her to a general ward!”

“Mr. Montclair, we're sorry, but we're going to have to ask you to curb your—”

“You don't get to ask me shit! I left my daughter in your care! Is this outright, intentional carelessness because of a few measly dollars?!”

“Mr. Montclair, it's important that the bills are paid to ensure that—”

“To hell with you and your fucking bills!”

“Dad!” My stepbrother's grip tightened on my wrist as we stood in the doorway, watching the drama that unfolded. “Enough. I found her.”

The yelling man whirled, eyes crazy wild.

The first word that came to my mind was uncanny.

He and the man holding me looked like they were carved from the same bronze or wood or whatever. One just looked older and had darker eyes sharpened by years of toiling this world.

“Kallum,” the older man breathed, rushing forward. He lifted a bandaged hand to my face, his eyes wide with relief and fear, simultaneously.

“I found her in Draven's den. Thankfully, she seems unharmed.”

“Oh, it's good to have you back, baby.” The lump on the older man’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I feared something…bad must have happened to you.”

He pulled me into a hug so fast my head spun for a moment.

Heart thudding with renewed fear that this whole thing was proceeding too quickly, I tore away from him and put a good distance between them.

My head buzzed with fear and apprehension, panic that my reality, the one I was used to, was quickly disappearing. I stared frantically from one face in the room, to the other, desperately needing someone, just one person, to see through this shell and realize that it's me. Quinn Parker.

The older man's face twisted with worry. “Lilith, honey, are you—”

“No,” I breathed, shaking my head slowly, side-to-side, “I-I think there's been a..mistake here.”

“What?” It was Kallum who stepped forward this time, his face creased in concern.

“I'm not Lilith,” I shook my head more forcefully. “I’m Quinn.”

A pindrop, eery silence enveloped the room.