No truck.No shadows that don’t belong.No obvious sign of danger.
But the unease doesn’t leave.
By the time I crawl back into my bed hours later, the sky is starting to go pale along the horizon.Birds chatter in the trees.Somewhere in town, early risers are starting coffee, flipping open newspapers, stepping into shower steam.
I stare at the ceiling until my eyes blur.
Then sleep grabs me hard, heavy and reluctant.
This time, the dreams come in fiercely.
Kelly laughing in the bakery, flour on her cheek.Kelly pressed against me, whispering don’t fall in love with me.Kelly in that hallway, chin up, agreeing to end it with a voice that didn’t match her eyes.
Then everything shifts.
Her laugh turns into a scream.Her curls are sprawled across glass, glittering in the dark.
Her hands are reaching for me through a haze of smoke and twisted metal, but no matter how fast I move, I can’t get to her.
I wake with my heart in my throat, drenched in sweat, lungs burning.
The room is bright now, morning fully here.My phone buzzes on the nightstand with a string of notifications—club chatter, Nitro pinging about an update, some bullshit spam email.
Then a new message comes in, cutting through everything else:
Ally:Riot, call me.It’s Kelly.There’s been an accident.
The world narrows to the glow of that screen.
My pulse stops.Then slams back into gear, too fast, too hard.
No.
No, no, no.
I’m out of bed and moving before the thought is fully formed.Jeans.Boots.Cut.I don’t even bother with a shirt.The phone is still in my hand as I blow through the front door, the call already ringing.
“Ally,” I bark the second she answers.“What happened?”
Her voice is shaking.“She couldn’t sleep.She text me in the middle of the night saying she was going for a drive.If she was late for work, it’s because she was having a rough night.I thought she slept in when she wasn’t here to open.I just got a call from the hospital.They found my number on her emergency contact.They said,” she chokes out the words as her own panic climbs.
I don’t hear the rest.I’m on my bike.Engine roaring to life.Gravel flying.
“I’m on my way,” I order.“Now.Stay put at the hospital.I’ll get to you.”
I hang up and push the bike harder, faster, the town blurring around me as I run the lights, the stop signs, everything between me and the place where someone told Ally words that had her voice cracking like that.
There’s a ringing in my ears, drowning out everything else.
I don’t think about the truck.I don’t think about Russian splinters.I don’t think about the fact that I spent the whole night convincing myself she was fine.
I only think of one thing:
Kelly.In an accident.And I wasn’t there.
The last time I saw her, I was letting her walk away, telling myself it was better for her.
Now?
