Bad Dream (Dark Dream 0.50)

Just like Dad.

Aida visibly shook off her melancholy and crawled into bed with him, snuggled him tight into the curve of her body, blowing a raspberry on one of his plump cheeks. He squealed, writhing in her hold.

My heart ached as I watched them and my shoulders felt so heavy, I couldn’t move.

I wanted to give them both the world. It didn’t matter that Aida was our mother and twenty-eight years older than me. It didn’t matter Brando was my brother and not my son.

They were my family and my responsibility.

So, even though it rankled, I knew I had to give Tiernan a real chance because he could make both of them happy and safe in a way that, right now, I couldn’t.

It was a risk, but one I would always be ready to make because I’d sell my soul if it meant Aida and Brando could know a life free of stress and worry, scarcity and sickness.

“Come join us, dovey,” Aida beckoned with a soft, little smile, this one slightly crooked. It was a smile she only used for her kids. “What a treat I get to sleep with both my babies.”

A tremulous smile claimed my mouth, but I paused for just one second more. Something about this night and this moment, the knowledge of our possible move to New York with Tiernan felt final, like the closing of a chapter.

Our life had changed irrevocably and horribly after Dad died and I had the sense now, as I did then, that it was going to shift again. I could only hope it would be for the best.

I joined my little family in the pink sheets, curling around Aida’s back, wrapping my arms around her so that I could tangle them with Brando’s, both of us bookends against her body. Despite her shortcomings, both of us loved our mother.

We didn’t have much choice.

She was all we had left.

Even though she didn’t know what she would do without me, I felt the very same about her. In the roller coaster of ups and downs that was my life, Aida Belcante was my one constant.

And I vowed right there, holding the two most precious people in my entire universe close as they fell into a swift and deep sleep, that I would be their constant no matter what.

Even if it meant giving up my dreams.

Even if it meant inviting Tiernan into our home for good.

Chapter Three

Bianca

When I woke up, the soft floral scent of Aida’s perfume was in my nose because her hair was across my face. I smiled as I swam out of a deep, restful sleep, my first in weeks. My leg was sprawled across her lower body, one of my hands crossed on top of her belly to rest on Brandon’s head where it lay snuggled into the curve of her hip.

Contentment, rare and beautiful, hummed through me.

I’d wanted to move to New York City since I was a girl and the opportunity to go with my family was almost too good to be true. So, I was wary still of Tiernan and those secrets he proclaimed to want from my mom, but I was also resolved.

We would make the most of the situation as we always did.

I shifted, curling into my mom as I prepared to drift back to sleep. It was a Sunday, and I could afford a little more rest on my one day off this week.

I frowned as I registered how cold Aida was against me. She had poor circulation, but Brando and I were both warm bodies against her beneath the heavy duvet. I cracked an eye open to check on her.

She lay on her back, one arm around Brando, the other thrown over her head. The expression on her face was soft and sweet, her beauty so acute it made my chest ache. My eyes closed again as I moved to rest my cheek against her chest.

It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t moving.

No gentle ebb and swell of breath through her chest.

No muted thump of her heart beating behind the cage of her ribs.

Nothing.

Every single atom of my body froze.

I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe.

As if mimicking the stillness of my mother’s body would make it less alarming.

It didn’t work.

She was too cold, too inert to pass off as anything but what my mind was screaming at me.

Dead.

In the wake of shock, panic flooded my system. I got to my knees in the bed, somehow cognizant enough not to jar Brando awake as I leaned over Aida and checked the pulse at her throat with two fingers.

Nothing.

Her wrist?

Nothing.

A panicked wail lodged in my throat.

Her skin was pale yellow, bleached of warmth. The texture was cold and smooth, like something inanimate. My fingers trembled as I lightly touched her bone-white lips.

I hovered over her, desperation clawing at my insides, anxiety eating at my extremities so that they shook fiercely, vibrating the bed.