“You actually fit in that thing?” I ask him as I stare at a twin bed that doesn’t even look like it’d fit me.
He chuckles. “I’ll survive. Your room is across the hall.” He motions to a closed door behind me, and I open it to find a large, king bed pushed up against the far wall.
Massive French doors open to a wide porch and the forest beyond. The room has its own fireplace, and the comforter is so large and fluffy that it looks like it’d swallow me.
“Are you cold? Do you want me to light a fire?” he asks.
“I’m fine. Really.”
He runs a hand through his hair, once again looking a bit flustered. I almost laugh, and he catches my smirk.
“Well, goodnight then.”
“Goodnight.”
He nods, shutting the door behind him.
I fall onto the bed and stare at the wooden ceiling, deciding whether I should call Declan tonight. But before I can decide, I’m fast asleep.
We’re at my dad’s shop in downtown Oakland. His hometown. When he’s not on the road with his Formula 1 team, he’s here fixing all types of cars. I spend most afternoons after school helping him out. Everyone knows him, and several people pop in to chat. I sit on a tall counter, and my teenage, spindly legs hang over the side while I quickly finish my school assignment so I can help my father with a Ferrari that just came into the shop.
My father clicks the garage opener, and the door slowly squeaks until it’s fully open.
“Much better,” he mumbles.
The sound of the busy streets fills the space as he lifts the bright red car.
Intending to help, I slam my book shut—
Screaming and gunshots come without warning, and my father's voice shouts at me to run. But I can’t. I’m frozen, unable to turn away.
I catch my father's eye and see panic. I run toward him as a bullet passes straight through his head. He lurches forward. I reach out to catch him, and we both fall to the ground.
I’m still in the dream, screaming. Or am I doing so in real life? I can’t tell. All I know is that a few seconds later, everything calms down, and my brain goes blank. The darkness consumes me.
I welcome it.
There is light as I wake to the feeling of warmth against my body.
That can’t be right.
I jerk awake to find a person wrapped around my waist.
In my half-asleep state, I don’t think. I react. My fist swings around and lands on the person's nose. A startled yelp, and the arm instantly disappears from my waist,freeing me.
I spin, ready to attack again, when Owen’s voice fills the space. “It’s me! It’s me!”
Oh fuck.
My brain’s awake now, and adrenaline courses through my blood.
I sit up on my knees. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Owen. I didn’t…” I reach for his face and finally register the blood. “Fuck. I’ll get you something to clean that up.”
Jumping off the bed, I race to the bathroom, grabbing a dry towel and wetting another one. I run back to the room to find him sitting up, his head bent back against the headboard. He’s holding his nose.
“Let me see it,” I say, pulling his hand away.
There’s blood coming out, but it’s already slowed. I wipe his face and place the cloth against his nose. “Hold it there. I’ll grab some ice.” I face the door.
