Epiphany (Legacy of Payne) Read Free

fragmented horror. Sound bites of tortured pleas . . . a flash of waves trailing down the naked curve of a woman’s back . . . rope securing bloodied hands and feet, circling a slender throat . . . the click of a lighter, its flames licking exposed flesh.
    I wasn’t sure which turned my stomach more—the torture, or the endless screaming, reminiscent of a lobster boiled alive. The noose tightened around her neck, silencing her permanently. I willed my eyes open, but the dream wouldn’t let go. Another scene unfolded.
    Masked faces crowding around me, pushing and shoving. Not much different from masquerade night, yet different in so many ways. These faces displayed an array of paint; ghoulish masks and costumes to match . . . sexy personas . . . ugly rubber monster faces.
    In the middle of the funhouse chaos stood the man I’d dreamed about countless times. He turned away, but not before I glimpsed despair in his eyes. He staggered down the uneven sidewalk, heavy boots crunching over a layer of leaves as a blanket of fog surrounded us. The haze obscured the glow of the few jack o’lanterns that dotted the street, and I realized which night played out in my dream.
    Halloween . . . still a week away.
    He disappeared from sight, and I hastened my steps until I found him halfway down an alley where a dark figure attacked him. Blood spurted from his head in gruesome vividness, spattering the canvas of my mind in crimson.
    I jerked awake, heart pounding as sweat and tears dampened my face, and rolled over to face the clock. Six-fifteen. I went over the previous night, searched through the haze of alcohol-influenced memories, and retrieved that first shocking moment when I’d come face to face with him. Had he really been there? Part of me wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing.
    The eerie silence of my bedroom unnerved me almost as much as the nightmares. I missed the familiar noises of home—sounds I hadn’t realized were in the background until they were gone. The weekend party animals, laughing and occasionally singing or arguing, but always present every Friday and Saturday night. The early morning commuters humming along the highway. Anything to chase away the dreams.
    They’d taken a frightening turn during the last few weeks. I didn’t want to believe they held any significance, but my track record with the bizarre was hard to discount. Since going back to sleep was futile at this point, I kicked off the covers and pulled on a pair of sweats. As I pushed my feet into my slippers, raised voices filtered in through the window I’d cracked open. I rushed outside and found Six standing in her doorway, a red satin sheet grasped to her chest.
    “Get out of here!” She flung a shoe at her latest conquest. He ducked but didn’t quite manage to escape the shoe’s mate. “I mean it, Kevin!” A dark T-shirt joined the shoes.
    “What’s your problem?” Glaring at her, he pulled the shirt over his tousled head of brown hair. I recognized him from last night. He’d been with another guy, and I’d placed them both into the hunky gym category. “You think you can do better than this, babe?” Kevin stepped back and spread his arms.
    “I’m not your  babe .”
    “What you are is not worth it .” He stomped toward Six and pulled a condom from his pocket. “For your next fuck,” he sneered, tossing it at her feet, “in case you find a willing moron.”
    “You’re the moron!”
    I rushed to Six’s side just as a black Toyota pickup jerked to a stop in the driveway. The other guy from the hunky gym duo hopped out and joined the drama. Judging by his damp, sandy blond hair and fitness garb, he’d come straight from the gym.
    “What’s going on?” he asked.
    “I need a ride. The chick went psycho.”
    Six growled. “I’ll show you  psycho , you sick fuc—”
    “Calm down.” I placed a hand on her arm and addressed Gym Guy. “You need to get your friend out of here.”
    A set of stunning blue eyes