“God. Please.” I moan, my teeth chattering as I sprint on the bike.
My muscles are on fire, my hair is plastered to my head and my clothes are flimsy protection as rain falls, making the pedals slick. With my feet slipping over and over, I come down hard on the pedal. I yell when I miss it and it slams into my shin, shooting pain up my leg until I’m fumbling, tilting and then overbalancing.
“Aaaaah!” the yell is yanked from me when I start to fall, my body slamming into the dirt beside the road and tumbling down, down.
God help me. I roll over and over, finally coming to a stop at the bottom of the incline as my head slams into the drenched earth with a cry of pain and stars bursting behind my lids. Above me, like a portent, thunder booms right before another streak of lightning hits. I’m dizzy, and my heart is pounding so fast I see black spots. I need to go. Get home. Hide! Hide, Becks.
But I can’t hide and as the flashes start, these much worse than the lightning, I let out a moan of pain that isn’t about my leg or head but about the past and memories I haven’t been able to outrun. There are things that live in the dark and can’t ever be forgotten and as the storm grows, I’m sucked into the dark. Curling into a ball, I sob, fear so thick in my chest that every breath is a wheezing rasp of despair. Hand. Yelling. Fury.
So much fury and darkness.
“Leave me alone!” I scream, clapping both hands over my ears to drown out the howling wind and the voices that won’t stop.
I’m trapped. Shivering. Lost in the darkness for God knows how long when I feel something different. At first, I’m too terrified to uncurl from my ball and open my eyes. I’ve done that before and it never ended well. Didn’t wait long enough.
“It’s okay, baby.” I hear, the deep timber my first clue that something isn’t right and when nothing else happens, I peek my eye open to find myself on the backseat of a car.
It’s warm in here, blissfully warm and dry and the storm around us is savage enough that I should be bothered. Instead, I’m sucking in deep breathes and sighing at the scent that fills my nose. Musky, clean, a citrus scent that seeps into my pores and makes me sigh. Before I can think things through, and for reasons I can’t explain, I sit up and blink at the front seat where a man sits, skillfully steering the vehicle though the raging storm. The windshield wipers are on full blast, battling the deluge of water and I can feel the wind hitting the car, driving pelting rain against the body with the hard ping of bullets into steel.
“Where…what…?” I croak, my head still spinning as I gulp and try to make sense of this.
What’s happened? Who is…this man?
“It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re almost home,” The man says and once again I feel a sense of calm wash through me at the sound of that deep, commanding voice.
“Home?” I croak, my head spinning as I reach up to grab at the ache there.
Something sticky and warm coats my palm and it’s only after I smell something tangy on the air that I realize I’m bleeding.
“Oh, God!” I moan, my eyes going down to the seat.
A flash of lightning illuminates the back of the car and I see blood on the fabric. “Oh no. I messed it all up. I’m so sorry!”
“Calm down, Becks! It’s okay,” the man yells when I start to breathe harder, my chest rising and falling in swift pants that come out harsh.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it. I’ll clean it up,” I reply as a dizzy spell hits me.
I’ll clean it up, I vow, scrubbing at the seat frantically and belatedly realizing my hands are just spreading more blood on the fabric.
“Sorry,” I croak, my throat tight, choked.
Can’t breathe.
“Becks, calm down!”
Can’t breathe, I think, my head swimming, my body tilting before blackness takes me. The last thing I remember as I fall to the side is the sound of tires screaming and then black eyes as big, gentle hands cradle my head.
So pretty. So soft, I think, my eyes falling closed.
Chapter three
ZACK
Terror.
I’ve never felt terror this stark as I run through the rain, Rebecca cradled to my chest. My house is a mere few feet away from the truck but I hardly feel the rain as I rush onto the porch and kick the door open, uncaring of the wood or hinges. All I can think about is getting Rebecca to safety and healing her. I saw her riding out of town and tried to follow her immediately, my nerves shot by the storm I saw coming while my temper raged against the woman inside the salon. I would have stopped her, given her a ride home if that cop hadn’t stopped me and started asking me a million questions. Just as soon as Rebecca is dry, comfortable and well, I promise myself that I’ll return to that town and find that asshole.
What I intend to do to him for waylaying me…