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Fiancee

Emily Sinclair felt the cold night breeze blowing through her hair, it felt good, but then, this wasn't the time to relent, the force of danger seems to be very powerful, and she can't seem to help it at will. The more she fights it, the more it seems prominent, she might hurt herself even more.

When a loud growl tear through her ears causing her to shriek, she seems to remember why she is in a clearing in what seems like a forest.

'I am on the run. I can't stop now,' the voice in her head screamed out to her.

Dashing forward, she keeps running until her legs become a puzzle, danger is closer to her, she needs to keep going but then, her legs wouldn't move, they wouldn't even obey her.

"Emily, I am coming for you," the loud voice tore through the night air.


Emily jerked out of the hospital bed, perspiration clouding her forehead, her heart thumping so hard she is scared that it might break out of her rib cage.

She looks around and everything seems different and changed.

The walls of the room still had paint from years past. A light blue, now almost white. The decorations made her know she is in a room, the bed she sat on was soft and warm. She looked around thinking about how she got there.

When no reply was willing to come forth, she dashed out of the bed and walked forward, stumbling to the ground when the blankets from the bed got stuck on her ankles

"Holy fuck!" she ground out, tears pickling the corners of her eyes.

Her rib was sore, when she raised her bandage to her rib cage, she knew this was going to be a hard time for her.

The clattering of plates somewhere in the distance made her recollect herself, she wouldn't stay there and not try to push herself forth.

With the small strength she had in her, Emily struggled to stand, and then, made her way out of the room.

She came to a hallway, followed by a fleet of stairs. Emily hated the fact that a headache would kill her, and she could barely see, she rarely always does.

The stupid blanket from the bedroom she was from was still clawing her legs, she hates that, but isn't about to complain as much as she wishes to. She had one goal, to reach the lower stairs, to get to the sound of the plates she heard somewhere.

A thought suddenly rushed through her head, Emily was bothered that a thief was in 'her' house, trying to steal her stuff. This made a rage sweep through her as she rushed down the stairs, taking the stairs as she could.

When she was left with about three steps to complete her way to the lower floor, she got furious, her eyes ready to spit fire.

She still wasn't seeing, her head hurt so badly, and the darn blanket stuck around her feet wouldn't let her go. With anger, she tripped for the second time that day and a sharp cry escaped her mouth as she went flying through her way down.

Emily fell on her ribs, she knocked her head on the floor because she wasn't fast enough to catch herself.

"Oh no! shit! this hurts," she cried out stifling back tears.

Then, she noticed the clatters that had made her come down here stop, and the retreating footsteps coming her way.

The fear in Emily was evident, she was scarred that if the was someone in 'her' house, then, it might be the man from her dream.

She tried pushing up, but the throbbing pain from her ribs only made her whimper in pain. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red, and tears wet the soft skin.

Then, the footsteps stopped, and a cuss tore through the air.

"What on holy earth! Emily..." the voice said.

Emily knew this voice was different, it wasn't bad like the one from her dream, but she can't tell, she doesn't remember much and it kills her from not to know things.

Slowly, she pushed her head backward, to the direction where the voice had come from, and to her dismay, a huge man stood in front of a door frame, his big body hovering over the place. He seemed to have filled the place with his body shape, one he seemed unaware of.

The sob she was trying to stifle died out. She was checking out this man. He was in black sweatpants that hugged his lower waist, causing a promising bump to cut through his lower leg.

Emily swallowed, but the pain was rough, she knew she shouldn't be checking this man, but the man seemed to be enjoying it because he hadn't said anything else.

He wore a casual white shirt that had sleeves rolled up to the shoulders. He looked dashing, with possible morning hair, since it was unshaven.

Emily knew her vision was bad, but the way she checked out this stranger who might probably be stealing brought a new wave of anger dashing through her. She moved and winced when the pain sliced through her for the third time that morning.

"You... thief. What were you doing there? trying to steal huh?" she asked trying to turn on her hand.

When she stood, she made one step and tripped over the blanket again. Her anger this time was directed at the thick object that was wrapped around her ankle several times. She cursed beneath her breath, and the anger purred through her.

"This stupid blanket should leave me alone," she shouted as she blinked fast, not wanting her tears to disgrace her now.

When a small sigh, Cole left his position and walked towards Emily.

Emily seemed to be aware of his presence, she looked downwards though, the fear in her chest too much for her to contain.

"Here, let me help you," he said, letting her know of his plans.

This wasn't a question, Emily's eyes danced around the man's hard face, he wasn't smiling, his evergreen eyes prominent as he gives her a sympathetic glare before putting his attention to the blanket on her ankle.

He pulled it out, then, with her still in it, he bundled her in his arms, carrying her to the couch.

Emily was stunned by this, the man's warmth was hogging over her fragile body, and it made every sense in her body scream hallelujah.

When he paused in front of the couch, he gently placed her there, taking a step to cower over her.

"Are you alright?" he asked concern filling his forehead.

It was hard to reply, Emily knew then that, she couldn't trust a man just because he helped her with a blanket and carried her to the couch. Maybe it was a ruse to continue stealing from her.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house trying to steal?" she asked brushing aside his question about how she is feeling.

Cole's eyes became a dark shade of green, whatever emotion that built up there was soon replaced by amusement.

"Your house? excuse me, miss Emily?" he said shaking his head in despair.

"Isn't this my house?" Emily asked frowning.

She rubbed her hand on her temple where she had hit it, angry at herself that she had bumped it so hard. She hates herself for doing so. She wondered if she might have a lump there soon.

"Fuckin no. I own the place. Well, you do so too, since we are together now," he adds gently.

The shock that clouds her eyes made it impossible for her to see the man's face if he was joking or not.

"Who the fuck are you?" she asked in a voice that held anguish and fear.

"Cole Brown, your fiancee of course," he lets out, making her know who is the boss.

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