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Chapter 387 Dreams

That night, he slept fitfully, as usual. But this time, the nightmare warped brutally. The pool of blood and two bodies lying in the fast-clotting blood were still present, but this time, the woman was Amy. He awoke with a paralyzed scream, drenched in his own sweat.

Once he had regained control of his erratic breathing, he reached blindly for his phone. It was always set on the little oak bedside stool every night before he dropped off to sleep. He felt around for it for a few moments to no effect.

Frowning, he sat up, already angry at the minor inconvenience. "Where are you, stupid?" he muttered as if the phone could hear him speak. He slid his legs off the bed in an effort to scour the entire room, and that was when he felt something hard under his left thigh.

He reached for it. It was the silly phone. He cussed softly as his mind brought back memories of how the phone must have gotten there. After his friends had finally taken their leave, he had spent some inordinate amount of time wondering whether or not to call Amy.

But what could he possibly tell her? He could not admit that he was bothered about how their pseudo date night had turned out or that he was thinking about her more than was normal. More than he had ever thought about anyone else.

He could not. Would not. So instead, he had settled for finding her on Instagram and carefully looking through her the tons of posts on her account. He took extra effort to make sure he did not accidentally click on the like button any of the pictures, as that would blow his cover beyond repair.

He had fallen asleep looking at a particularly beautiful picture of Amy, her red hair falling across her eyes and the top of her breasts clearly visible from her low-cut blouse. She looked lovely and happy.

He sighed as he realized why she must have featured in his nightmare. She was slowly starting to carve out a corner for herself in his heart. But he was not ready for any of that.

He could not bear such hurt ever again. He had to protect her and himself by any means possible. Which meant he had to stop slacking and earnestly pursue the leads he had come across a few months before.

He dialed a number on his phone.

"Hello," Lei Zhao said gruffly into the phone, having picked up on the first ring.

"We need to talk," was all Edward said back. Lei Zhao nodded with understanding on the other end, as the line went dead.

Three hours later, both men shook hands in Edward\'s study.

"I need to show you something," Edward told Lei Zhao. His mood was dour and serious.

Lei Zhao said nothing, only waiting for what his friend had to show him. Edward liked to discuss the more serious things with him, not only because he was older than the other two, but because he was always more mature, never asking too many questions and always ready to listen.

Whenever they were in less grave situations, his seemingly extreme seriousness was a reason to taunt him, but Edward often found it helpful and oddly comforting.

Edward moved towards his study table. He depressed a small red button at the bottom just beside the desk drawers.

The heavy piece of oak furniture started to move. Slowly at first, but then all at once, until it was completely out of the way.

The ground beneath it was smooth marble just like the rest of the study room floor. Lei Zhao watched all of it with the disinterest of someone who had seen even more mind-numbing things.

In truth, that was not the first time he would watch Edward reveal his "Other Room." While he watched, Edward tapped on the floor with his right foot three times in rapid succession. That bit of ground measuring about six by three feet spun in a dizzying circle.

A steel ladder descending into the now open space glinted in invitation to the two men. Edward looked over at Lei Zhao. Silently, they took the ladder downward, with Edward going in last so he could push the necessary buttons that would return the study room to status quo above them.

The room they were now in was dim at first. Edward had not been here in a long time. He seemed to have been avoiding this place and the unwholesome things it stood for. When he pushed the light switch however, the room became bathed in a dull glow.

The array of weapons adorning the wall would have sent an innocent person into startled shock.

But Lei Zhao was far from innocent. In fact, he was extremely well versed in the art and craft of the underworld. Which is why Edward had called on him again.

"I started having those dreams again," Edward said flatly, as he paced, stroking one weapon after another like they were the bodies of some exotic and highly sensual women.

He picked up a Ruger Hawkeye Long Range Target and caressed it almost lovingly.

The beautiful rifle had a composite stock which added weight and rigidity to it, and although Edward was hardly ever involved in any field work, he knew this would be one of his go-to if he ever had the need to put someone down.

He was starting to have an increasing feeling that such a time would be upon him, and soon.

"They never really went away, you know," he continued, pausing to look at Lei Zhao. "In fact, I think the horrible dreams might torment me all the days of my life until I\'m safely in the ground. Especially if I don\'t do anything about it."

He put the rifle down on the rack and sat down on one of the wooden stools. There was something rustic about the architecture and furnishing of this basement armory.

Something designed to make its occupants feel ill at ease, unwelcome, disturbed. The longer one spent in the room, the more unsettled they became, needing to do something, to expend some energy.