Chapter 3

Dreams and promises

Rey awoke in the night, disoriented and confused.

An arm curled around her waist. Kylo Ren's arm. The memory rushed back to her. The hairs on her neck prickled with each slow breath he took, his broad chest rising and falling against her back.

She unfurled his arm from her body and placed it before him. His brows twitched at the movement, her breath caught in her throat and she froze. He did not wake.

Outside, the moon was breaking a path through the dark overcast sky. She crept out of bed, walking towards the window, her naked form silhouetted against the streaming moonlight. The street was empty now, loose sheets of a newspaper flittered along the pavement beneath the bright lamplight. There were no cars other than the few parked by the road and not a single soul wandered the lonely streets. It was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by sudden gusts of winds that moaned in strained cries and churned up the leaves into whirlwinds.

"Don't go."

Rey's heart jolted at the sound of his voice. She turned around to see his ash-white body lit up beneath the waning moon.

"I'm not—" She stopped to look at him. His eyes were racing beneath pale lids, face grimacing and tightening as different expressions chased each other. He was asleep. His fingers twitched, reaching for the spot on the bed that was still warm from her body.

She returned to his side, leaning in close to study him. He was light and darkness. Every feature in contrast to the other. He was all shadows and lines, pointed cheekbones, angled jaw, soft lips, long lashes. His dark hair cascaded across his face parting around his large ears. He was ugly from one angle. Beautiful from the other. But striking and captivating.

"Please," his voice cracked into a chilling whisper. She shivered at the sound.

"Kylo?" she whispered back, touching his shoulder, but there was no response.

His hand reached forward again, searching the sheets. He looked so alone. It reminded her of all the times she had spent the night cold and lonely, shivering beneath a summer blanket on a winter evening. Tears lashing from her eyes knowing there was no one there to help her, to hold her hand, to save her from her nightmares.

She crept back into bed. Her body folded into the curve of his own and his arm found her again. She felt safe in his hold, momentarily wanted in this world by someone. It was an illusion, of course, a twisted painful lie, but still, at that moment she imagined what it was like to be loved. Her chest heaved unsteadily at the thought, and she allowed herself to drift back to sleep.

Her mind fell into dreams, dark shadows dragging her back into the past, dragging her into a world she'd struggled so hard to leave behind her every day.

She was lying on the floor of the lounge room, one of the many lounge rooms she had called her own for a time. The Moroccan rug was worn, she remembered, patches of it frayed. She pulled at a thread, wishing in her dream she could unravel it and she would fall through the ground into a better place. She pulled and pulled at the thread, a burgundy bind that would not break no matter how hard she yanked. It went on for miles, and she wondered what lay on the end.

Then he was behind her, the man who haunted her dreams almost every night. His face hidden behind a shadow of darkness. He chased her through the rooms of an abandoned house. Always too close. Always hindering her escape. He grabbed her hair and yanked her back. And now she was on the floor, curled in a ball.

She jolted awake.

Thump! This time she wasn't dreaming. Kylo thrashed behind her, arms and legs trapped in their own nightmare. And then a low groan, a guttural noise that chilled her blood. He shot up, his legs kicking over the side of the bed, hands wringing through his hair. Rey reached for his back.

Her fingers made contact, and his breath caught. His skin was hot to touch, glistening with sweat.

"It's okay." She sat behind him, touching his shoulder uncertainly. "It was just a nightmare. I have them too."

He didn't respond, but his breathing resumed, slower but still unsteady as his shoulders trembled beneath her touch.

"It's okay," she said again in a hushed tone, her fingers circling his back in slow caressing turns. There was something painfully raw about the way he sat there, naked in the moonlight the words forming in her chest. Despite the night before, despite everything in this crazy situation. She knew the pain of haunted dreams, she knew what it was like to run away from your past during the day only to have it catch up with you in the night. It never went, not really. She had tried to bury her past, but it never died.

Rey cupped her fingers over his shaking shoulders, and he stilled at her touch, his skin prickled in goosebumps. His hand reached to her own, long fingers covering her.

"You're not alone." She didn't mean to say it, but the words pried themselves from her lips, given a life of their own.

He stood, hand slipping away from hers.

"Go back to sleep." His words were sharp, a commanding edge that made her think he was used to ordering people about.

"What are you…" Her words drifted away. He was pulling his trousers on in a rush, his shirt, once crumpled on the floor, now sliding onto his back as his fingers moved clumsily to fasten them. "You're leaving?"

Silence.

"But you still have a couple of hours left," she said, her eyes and cheeks growing hot as the words left her lips. She wanted nothing more to curl up on a ball on the floor. It was bad enough being paid for having sex with someone, but having them walk out without even… She shuddered. It was so much worse. "We can go again, here let me…"

"I'm done." He picked up the rest of his belongings and walked out the door, leaving Rey alone in the bed, naked and confused.

There were voices from the foyer. Furtive, pressing, voices exchanged in low hisses. She stood atop the stairs, her hand reaching for the polished mahogany banister, her foot dangling above the step below, toying with the idea of going down.

"Yes, of course, Mr Ren," Phasma was saying, working hard to placate him, her voice accentuating every word.

More words from him. Inaudible. Sharp. Rude. Rey's cheeks tingled. What was he saying about her? She took a step lower, rolling the soles of her feet to make sure the steps didn't creak at the sound. The conversation continued.

"I can assure you I went through the rules. I will book you in with a different girl next month," she grabbed the planner, tapping her pen against it in a staccato rhythm. "How about Tessa?"

Kylo spoke. His words still rude. Still sharp. Still inaudible. Rey took a breath and another step, straining to listen.

"Yes, it is unacceptable," Phasma said testily. "It was only her first night. It was wrong of me to pair her with you."

She stepped again, the slightest creak, as her toes touched the next level, but it wasn't loud enough to draw their attention.

"What do you mean it was her first night?" His voice was louder now; she could feel the anger in his words. Rey took one more step closer, her last one, she swore to herself. "Is she not a sex worker?"

"She's just a kid who's gotten in over her head with debt," Phasma said with a cruel curl of her lips. Rey bristled at the "kid" reference. She was 22 and had been doing it tough on her own since she was 16. Hardly a fucking kid who had just forgotten to pay off her Visa card. She clutched the railing, stopping herself from doing or saying anything rash. She was on the edge of being fired.

Phasma continued: "Tonight was her first shift. I wanted to her to get practice in before Snoke—"

"No Snoke." He interrupted her brusquely, raising a hand to silence her.

"Mr Snoke will want to try her out."

"When is he due to come?"

Rey risked another step closer.

Phasma checked her planner, tapping her finger on a point within the pages. "Friday."

"Book her with me on Friday," he blurted in that same commanding tone.

Phasma pursed her lips tightly." Mr Snoke will not be happy."

"I don't care. Book for the full-night again. No other clients that night."

Rey swore in her head. The mere thought of going through tonight again was… She didn't know what it was, perplexing, uncomfortable, confronting and just plain weird.

Phasma sighed. "Very well, booking for Desert Flower. It will cost you though."

"Are you fucking kidding me? After tonight I shouldn't have to pay a cent," Kylo spat, and Rey flushed.

"I said I was sorry about that," Phasma said and checked the planner once more. "She's on the next couple of nights. I'll get her up to speed by Friday."

"Fine." Kylo glowered, tossing his credit card at her as though it were nothing. Rey risked one more step, but this time his eyes snapped up at her. She quickly retreated, but it was too late; he had seen her.

"Charge it through to Friday."

"I beg your pardon?" Phasma asked incredulously.

What? Rey froze, darting her eyes back at him in disbelief.

"Every night through to Friday," he added, not taking his eyes off her and having no shame to turn them away from her.

"There's no discount, you know? It's still $400 an hour." Rey did the maths in her head. By the end of the week… shit by the end of the week she would have paid off just under half of her debt, or at least the first installment, but that was all she could focus on.

"Fine. I'm out-of-town tomorrow but don't have her fucking anyone else. Completely block her out," he said, again with that authoritative tone.

Phasma sighed again, her lips pressing even tighter together. "Fine. She's off limits. No bookings."

Rey had made it to the top of the steps now, stopping just out of a view, her heart flipped.

"Now give her a copy of those fucking rules and make sure she can recite them blind by the time I come back," he said loudly, to both of them Rey suspected.

"Yes, Mr Ren."

"And Phasma?" He paused. Rey closed her eyes, dreading whatever would come next. "Buy the girl some fucking lube."