Chapter Twelve- Not Where I Expected To End Up
1161 Words
Sierra
I have been on edge all night. I can’t sleep. Every little noise freaks me out, even though it is nothing, and Ambrose promised I would be safe here. I hate feeling like this. It is not me! I am strong, confident, independent and usually fearless. Then again, my life has never been in danger before.
All I have done for the last three hours is toss and turn. I won’t be getting any sleep tonight. I sit up, groaning in frustration. I climb out of bed. I need a damn drink, maybe it will help me sleep. I’m not sure if I will make it to classes tomorrow. I hope I do. I hate missing classes; it isn’t something I do.
I pull on a dressing gown and quietly make my way downstairs. I don’t want to wake Ambrose. I search around and find a bottle of scotch, pouring a large one. I down it. It burns my throat, but it feels good. I pour a second. I will take my time with this one.
I stroll to the living room and take a seat on the sofa. I sit in the dark. I glance around in the darkness and wonder how safe I really am here. Maybe knowing there are guns in the house should help, but it doesn’t. It makes me feel uneasy. I hate guns. My dad had them in the house, too. He tried to get me to get one for my apartment for protection, but I refused. I am starting to think I should get one. I wouldn’t feel comfortable holding one, let alone using one, if I had to.
I sigh and take a large mouthful of my drink. I close my eyes, trying to clear my mind of any negative thoughts. I could try meditating, but I don’t think it will work. I am not in the right headspace or in the right atmosphere for it.
The sudden light startles me.
“Sierra, what are you doing up at this time? Is it three in the morning? Alcohol won’t do you any good.”
He sounds annoyed. I didn’t ask him to come down. I was quiet and kept the light off not to wake him up.
“I know what time it is. I can read. I couldn’t sleep.” I hiss, trying not to lose my temper with him.
He appears in front of me and takes the glass from my hand. “Why can’t you sleep?”
What sort of question is that?
“How do you think I can’t sleep, Ambrose?”
He sighs and sits next to me. “Sorry, that was a dumb question. I meant it when I promised you were safe here.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t stop me from being scared. Every little noise freaks me out.” I reply honestly.
He sets the glass down and jumps to his feet. I look at him, confused. Is he really going to walk away after I told him I was scared? I shouldn’t be surprised.
“Come.” He states firmly.
I raise my brow at him. “Where am I going?”
“To bed.” He answers simply.
“What part of I can’t sleep, don’t you understand? I am not going back to bed to spend the next few hours tossing and turning.”
“You can sleep in my bed with me. You will feel safer with someone next to you.”
“I am not sleeping in your bed with you. No chance in hell.” I protest.
“Yes, you are. I am not making a suggestion, sweetness.” He chuckles.
I quickly get to my feet, “You can’t force me.”
He rolls his eyes. “I am not doing this with you, not tonight, not at this time.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Ambrose doesn’t answer. In one swift movement, he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder.
“It means I am done listening to your whining.”
I slap his back. “Ambrose put me down right now.”
He swats my thigh. “No, stop struggling.”
“Ambrose!” I huff, wriggling in his arms.
He doesn’t listen. He tightens his hold on me. I groan and give up. He carries me upstairs to his bedroom. He tosses me down on his bed. The second he does, I try to run but fail. He pins me to the bed and sits on top of me, pinning my hands above my head.
“Nice try. Stay put. You have a better chance of falling asleep here.”
“And what if I don’t stay put?”
His face inches closer to mine, and his warm breath tickles my skin. He smirks, “I have items in this room I could use to tie you up with.”
I swallow hard. The idea of it appeals to me more than it should.
“I am sure that is illegal without permission.” I breathe out.
He moves his lips to my ear. “You would love every second of it.”
He brushes his lips against my neck and pulls his lips away, “You are sleeping in here, end of discussion.”
I moan softly, and my nails dig into his hand. A smug look takes over his face as he climbs off the bed. I squeeze my thighs together to stop the throbbing between them. Ambrose switches his light off. I turn on my side. I am too tired for any nonsense. He climbs into his side of the bed. It feels strange and awkward to share a bed with him. His bed is really comfortable, though. I curl up and bring the covers to my chin.
“You should stay home tomorrow. You will be too exhausted to attend classes,” he suggests.
“I will see how I feel in the morning.”
“Sierra, you won’t be able to focus. Wade can come here, so you aren’t alone. I know he is your favorite.” He chuckles.
“Yes, he is.”
I don’t mind any of them, but Wade is my favorite. He is the nicest and most patient out of them all. He has become my sounding board. He listens to my complaining, even if it is about Ambrose.
“I know. Try to get some rest,” he says.
I close my eyes, hoping this time it will work. I can’t deny it. I feel more relaxed and safer, knowing he is next to me. I assume he has a gun close by since he rushed to my room with one earlier. Would he shoot someone if he had to, or just threaten them? I hope I don’t ever need to find out. I clear my thoughts and let sleep take over. I am physically and mentally exhausted.
- Writer
