Longing For The Beach Billionaire Daddy
Chapter 97

*Shelby*

I woke up in a pitch-black room. I expected to find the hard marble floor of the art gallery at my back, but instead, I was lying on a soft bed surrounded by a fluffy goose-down comforter. The back of my head throbbed with pain, and I had no idea where I was or how I got there.

My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the room, so I couldn’t see my surroundings, which only caused the panic to rise up in my chest again.

“Michael!” I screamed, praying that he was somewhere close enough to hear me, to come and save me.

I heard the door hit the wall with force as someone rushed into the room without a second glance at the door. A dark figure rushed in from the doorway, and I nearly flinched away. My eyes adjusted and focused on Michael, who immediately wrapped his arms around me and held me until I got control of my breathing.

Through the small visibility of Michael’s embrace, I eventually realized I was back in the master bedroom of the townhouse, which made no sense.

“How did I get here?” I asked, my voice raspy.

“Aubrey called me from the art gallery. She said you started breathing really fast, so she pulled you out of the crowd. You fainted and hit your head on the floor. It was lucky that Aubrey got you sitting down before you fell, or it could’ve been so much worse. How does your head feel?” Michael asked concern etched in his features.

He pushed a lock of my hair out of my face as he searched my face for any clue as to how I was feeling. It took me several moments before I could find the words.

“The back of my head is really sore. I think that must be where I hit the floor,” I said, easing my hand up to gingerly touch the back of my head.

“I’ll go get you an ice pack,” he said, rushing out of the room.

I laid back against the layers of pillows, as I ran through the events of earlier that day. I was trying to remember exactly what caused my panic attack when the image of the black hoodie retreating from me flashed back in my memory. I could almost feel the touch of his hand on my back as he passed behind me. The hair on the back of my neck stood, just like it had before.

I knew it was Blaine in that art gallery. I would bet my life on it, that he was the man in the hoodie. Which could only mean one thing. He was still following me. He wanted revenge and I was part of him getting it.

Michael returned with a tray and set it on my bedside table. He walked across the room and slid the curtains open, revealing it was still the middle of the day. I hadn’t been unconscious for very long.

“I tried my best to make you a cup of tea. I thought it might help calm your nerves,” Michael said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to me.

I picked up the mug and sipped the hot liquid. It tasted like chamomile and lemon, but I wasn’t certain what exactly it was. Michael grabbed the ice pack and slipped it behind my head.

“Can you remember what happened that caused this panic attack?” Michael asked softly.

I took another sip of tea before setting it back down on the side table. I took a deep breath before explaining exactly what I could remember happening at the art gallery. As I explained everything, Michael’s mouth fell deeper into a frown.

“Are you certain it was him?” he asked.

“I’m almost positive. Whoever ran their fingers across my back did so deliberately to let me know they were there,” I said.

“I’m so sorry, Shelby. This will all be over soon. I promise,” Michael said.

Michael climbed into bed beside me, resting his head on the pillow next to me.

“Do you believe me?” he asked.

I nodded my head, which only made the throbbing worse. I slid down into the blankets, closing my eyes. I wanted to believe Michael, but a large part of me didn’t. We’d been through so much already because of Blaine, and each time we thought it was almost over things got even worse.

I let sleep wash over me, exhausted from the day’s events.

Strange dreams plagued my sleep, accented with bright swirls of bright colors, which were soon taken over by large black shadows. I tossed and turned, the sheets feeling like they were restricting my every movement.

I woke up a few times in between these fitful bursts of sleep. Michael continued to tend to my every need, making sure I stayed in bed and didn’t overdo it.

“Why don’t we go downstairs and watch a movie?” I asked, desperate to get out of bed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want you to strain your eyes to see the TV. I think it might be best if you just stay in bed,” Michael said, looking worried.

He grabbed a new ice pack and replaced the old one with it.

“I’m just getting a little bored, and I’d like to take my mind off of everything that happened today,” I admitted.

“I understand,” Michael said, clearly thinking of a way to distract and entertain me.

“What about reading?” I asked.

“What if I read to you?” Michael responded.

I nodded with a small smile. Michael left the room and returned a few minutes later with a few different books, presumably from his den lined with bookshelves.

“I don’t have any of the trendier stuff that you like to read, but I brought up a few classics that I thought you might like,” Michael said.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling at the thoughtful gesture as I looked over the books he’d brought up.

“What about ‘The Wind in the Willows’?” I asked, handing him the book.

“That was one of my grandmother’s favorites. She used to read it to me when I was just a kid,” Michael said with a smile.

He slipped into bed next to me and started reading aloud from the book. For a while, it served as the perfect distraction, and eventually, I fell back to sleep just as the sun was setting.

The strange dreams resumed in full force, and those dreams quickly turned into nightmares.

***

The sound of my tennis shoes slapping the pavement echoed through the tunnels of the New York subway. The lights illuminating the platform flickered on and off with a sickly yellow glow.

I had to ignore everything and keep running. I had to keep running if I wanted to stay out of reach of him, from the man in the black hoodie.

I checked over my shoulder and he was right there, right behind me. With a quick lunge, he reached out to grab me, but I tripped. The person in the black hoodie tumbled over the top of me, flailing on the ground next to me. I took the chance to get back up and keep running.

I swerved in and out of the faceless people, none of which I dared to look in the eye for fear of it being the one I was running from. I came to a set of stairs blocked off by barricades, keeping me from escaping out onto the streets of the city. Escaping the stifling air of the underground and the eerie flickering lights.

I was trying to decide which way to turn when I heard his footsteps coming up behind me again. I could feel the hair on my neck stand up on end, announcing his return. I had nowhere to go. He’d finally trapped me. He’d finally won.

I only had one option, so I jumped onto the tracks and began running again, doing my best not to fall. The hooded man followed me, breathing heavily, pushing himself not to let me out of his sight. I pushed myself until my lungs burned with the need for oxygen.

A blinding light filled the tunnel ahead of me, and I realized my fatal error when it was too late. The train raced toward me at a breakneck speed. I was stuck. There was no way I’d be able to outrun my fate. A sickening laugh sounded behind me, and I turned to see the hooded figure standing safely on the platform.

“You made your own bed, and now you have to lie in it,” the figure said, shrouded in shadow, just before the light enveloped me.

***

I woke up with a start, gasping for breath as I came back to reality from my nightmare.

The sheets around me were soaked in my sweat, so I peeled myself off of the bed. Michael slept soundly on his side, completely unaware of the terrors that plagued my sleep. The curtains stood open, but the sky was pitch black. I slept all day and into the night.

I paced back and forth across the room, careful not to wake my sleeping fiance. I couldn’t help but wonder just how long I’d have to put up with threats from Blaine. I knew I’d never feel safe until he was back behind bars, but how long would that realistically take?

It was one thing standing up to Lauren, who I knew deep down was harmless. Blaine was completely different. I knew exactly what he was capable of; I’d been on the receiving end of his more violent plans.

If things had been different, I might not have walked away from that car crash. The driver, Lance, was still recovering from the injuries he received that night. My breath started to quicken again at the thought, and I had to force myself to slow down, so I didn’t have another panic attack.

I looked back to Michael and whispered across the room to his sleeping form.

“I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”