Breathe in and out.
“Have you calmed yourself yet?” A blasé question as if he fully expected I should have.
“Have I calmed myself?” I repeated, I couldn’t believe his impertinence.
The breathing thing didn’t work.
“You snapped a grieving boy’s arm.” I didn’t shout but my voice was laced with poison and fury. “You . . . you treat me like you care about me, then ignore me like I never mattered to you at all. Not even a second after we break up you’re out dating other people.” Now, I was shouting. “And you kill people, Karson. You take lives without a moment’s thought. And you have the audacity to stand here and ask me, have I calmed myself.”
A sharp bang hit my ears, tiny shards of glass sprayed on the floor. The lights in the hallway had met their demise. Again.
“I think it’s safe to say that’s a no,” Darcy said. His gaze remained fixed on the TV screen.
Shaking with rage and hurt, I stepped off the bottom of the stairs. He moved in a blur, blocking my way. He stared at me. A look of mingled surprise and frustration on his face as if I’d completely overreacted.
“Move,” I said, through clenched teeth. He didn’t move. I began to raise my hands. “I will not ask again.” Anger corrupted my voice, and it sounded more animal than human.
Debate crossed his face, he was about to challenge me.
“I will throw you out of the way if I have to,” I warned, breaking Ethan’s ruled about taking the enemy by surprise. Like a fool. I was a fool. Karson was the king in the tarot pack. I’m the hanging man.
His lips quirked up and his eyes glimmered with amusement. Arrogant asshole. I could feel the blood heating in my body. Tingling my nerves. Fury and love warring inside me.
“Karson,” Ethan growled, “don’t.”
He inclined his head in a nod, to me or to maybe something Ethan said after I couldn’t hear, I didn’t know. But he stepped to the side and let me pass.
“Yep, that’s definitely a no, Karson,” Darcy said as I stormed out of the house, slamming the door in my wake.
I broke into a run when I got outside. I turned right and ran upward into the trees. I ran and ran. I skirted around small shrubs and leaped over dead, fallen limbs. I ran under gigantic trees that seemed to reach their arms out in a fruitless attempt to harbor my soul. I waited for the tears to come, but they didn’t, just an intense burning anger pressed against my heart, my chest, my lungs. Even Wolf hung back a little further today.
My feet slapped at the ground. Leaves and rocks crackled beneath them. Muscles in my legs pulled like they were bound to a torture rack. My chest felt like it was going to burst. Sweatdripped down my face and glued my ponytail to the nape of my neck like a ball of wet wool. Finally, out of breath, muscles shaking, I pulled to a stop and hunched over. I placed my hands on my knees, sucking in the air.
A dark shadow swept over me. Still puffing, I rose and looked skyward at a cloak of broiling gray. In my anger I hadn’t noticed the dimming sky, nor felt the wind which grazed against my skin. It’d rain soon. It had been a crystal-clear blue sky when I left. Now I knew what they meant by sudden weather changes.
I glanced at my watch, it was 7 p.m. I blinked. Shit, I’d been running for over three hours. There was no way, even without the rain, even if I ran as fast as I could, I was going to make it back before dark.
Once darkness hit, with no flashlight, I could fall and hurt myself. I pulled my phone from my belt. I had no reception.
I turned in a slow circle, looking around. Every direction was cloaked green and gray.
The blood pulled from my stomach. I had no idea where I was.
I needed to climb higher and try and find reception and shelter. Or descend in the dark and try not to get lost—worse than I already was. I swallowed.
The wind was cool and damp. It darted around my body, drying the sweat on my skin. Fighting a slither of panic, I took a few large gulps of water.
Don’t panic.The first thing my father always drummed into me if I ever found myself lost.
‘Stay where you are and you will be easier to find. People who panic die. Build a shelter, be smart, Amy.’
I couldn’t stay where I was. There was no shelter in the brutal cold, I would struggle to make the night. Dad had bought me an emergency beacon, but it had been destroyed in the fire.
Okay, okay, Amy, head higher, find reception, and call Ethan.
I turned and started walking upward. The instant the decision was made the wind began in earnest. It whistled and whined against the trees, chilling my skin. Fat drops of rain hit on my face. I untied my rainproof jacket from my waist. It was thin, designed to keep out wind and light rains, not designed for heavy rain. I pulled it on. The rain thickened, it didn’t take long for the wet to soak through. The damp clung against my body and I soon began to feel as if I were naked. I shivered, wrapped my fingers in my jacket sleeve, pulling them together against my mouth and pushed forward, praying I’d find shelter soon.
I wondered what time Ethan would realize I was missing. If he’d taken Darcy to the bar, he might get home late—too late. He might not even realize I was missing until morning. Definitely too late.
