Free My Beautiful Lies (Beautiful Nothing #2) by Alisha Cole

It’s not that I can’t tell her, I really can’t say anything, my mouth isn’t working. Minutes pass by, and Jake gets irritated. He tells me I have five seconds to speak or she’s dead. And just like that, the blade slices deep across her throat. Her head goes back as she gurgles and chokes on her own blood. She’s gone, head falling limply forward, and my heart shatters. My voice comes back a minute too late, and I scream.
    “James. James, wake up! James, you’re having a nightmare, wake up!” Laney shakes my shoulders. I fly off the couch, tears gushing and lost. 
    It was a nightmare, she’s okay, and it wasn’t real. It was so vivid, so frightening. I thought he killed her. His words still sting; I felt the blade dig into my throat as it went across hers. When I realize it was all a dream, I glance at Laney’s terrified expression. I rush toward her, taking her into my arms and squeeze her tight. 
    “You’re okay, thank God you’re okay.” My words come out fast, jumbled, and anxiously.  
    “Why wouldn’t I be? What did you dream?” she asks. All I can do is tell her I’m glad she is okay, kissing her with more effort than I ever have before. I don’t think twice about anything, I carry her straight to her room and make love to her until she can’t feel her legs. 

My body is sore, ten times worse than yesterday, waking me from my sleep. Maybe if I roll over onto my other side it won’t hurt as bad. I attempt to and fail. Trying one more time I come face to face with Laney’s beautiful sleeping features. She looks peaceful, happy, even. I could look at her all day. Although, I would love to, I have to wake her up. Today is the competition at the school, and she instructs the kids. I playfully brush my finger on the tip of her nose, awaking her senses. I don’t stop until she stirs.
    Peeking one eye open she grins. “You sleep better in the bed?” she whispers, half-awake. 
    “I sleep better when you’re near, yes.” I tell her to get up—she has a job to do—and I hop in the shower. When I get out she is still in the bed, hair in chaos encased around her face, making me laugh. I sneak over lightly not to make the floor creak, and stroke a finger across her foot dangling out of the blanket off the bed. 
    “Noooo…” she groans, pulling her foot back into the blanket. She mumbles that she’s getting up, but I jump in the bed in my towel. I can’t help myself, I dig my fingers into her side and she spasms, laughing. I stop when I see her face go pale. Concerned, I let her out of the bed to see her dash for the bathroom. I hear her hacking away, and it makes me feel sick myself. Well, that’s a great way for me to start her morning: make her sick. Feeling like a dumbass, I go to the bathroom to check on her, finding her leaning against the toilet. Her arm lays over the seat, as she gags but nothing comes out since she doesn’t have any more contents left in her stomach. I sit down next to her, gently caressing her back. When she’s done, she sits back, weak and out of breath. She needs a shower, but I don’t see her standing for a while; she seems extremely nauseous. 
    Maybe a bath would be better. I put the plug in, letting the luke-warm tub fill up while I help her remove her clothes. We get them off, and I pick her up to lay her in the tub. Relaxation spreads across her face, and I smile in relief. I love that I know what makes her feel good, it gives me a sense of hope for us that I never thought we’d have. While she rests, I ask her to sit up some to be able to wash her hair. I get the shampoo, dab a drop on my hands, and mix it through her hair. Raking my fingers through her hair, she moans. I tell myself, down, boy, she’s sick. My dick never listens; it has a mind of its own. Hearing her faint moans brings it to life. I ignore my urge and rinse her hair. I leave her in there to relax for a bit longer, then help her get out. We both get dressed, eat breakfast, and get