I shake it off, needing some freshair. And my earbuds.
Changing in the bathroom, I don a pair of black leggings, sports bra, and white tank crop top with a black jacket over it. I braid my hair and pull on the light blue Chicago Cubs cap before slipping my ID and shop key into the pocket on my leg and fit my earbuds into my ears. Tuning to my favorite list, I leave through the back door, locking it behind me.
It’s only after eight. Dark but not late. The streets will still be alive with activity. Especially on a warm June evening.
I leave the alley, heading onto First and turning onto High Street. I roll my shoulders, stretch my arms above my head, and let the breeze wash over my body as the scent of potted flowers on the sidewalks lingers in the air just a little.
I double-knot my tennis shoes and start jogging, passing my shop, Rivertown Grill, and the bowling alley. I take a right into the neighborhood, and feel a burst of energy in my legs, free at last. I sidestep trees and mailboxes, swerving around cars parked at the curb. Then, I cross the street and dive between houses.
Mr. Zellers sits on his back porch, and I wave as I descend the small grassy hill to the fenced-in community pool. I race past it, inhaling the chlorine and remembering the first and last time I swam here. I had a pool at home growing up—still do—but if you wanted to be seen as a teenager, this was the place. Turned out, I didn’t really want to be seen.
I pound the pavement, sweating already, and curving right onto Main Street.
A truck comes up behind me, passes, and I see the red paint and the JT Racing emblem on the tailgate. I hold my breath, dread setting in, but I keep running, even when I see his taillights brighten.Oh, no.The vehicle halts in the middle of the street and I square my shoulders, continuing on.
Jared steps out of the driver’s side. I don’t slow down. “Don’t worry. I’m staying in lightedareas—”
But my brother swoops me up and throws me over his shoulder.
Damn him! I grit my teeth together, but only kick my legs once in frustration. It’s no use fighting more.
Jared carries me around the truck, and Jax hops out of the passenger side, opening up the back door for him.
Jared deposits me inside, and I try to jump out, but Jax slams the door in my face. I yank out my earbuds and pound my fist against the window.
I don’t believe this.
I kind of loved it when I was six. Started to resent it when I was eleven. I’m twenty-one years old now.
“Run in the morning,” Jared says, climbing into the cab.
“My business is open in the morning!” I’m louder than is helpful. “This is the only time I have.”
He shifts the truck into gear and hits the gas.
“Shelburne Falls is a safe place,” I point out.
“Until a traveler comes through one night and slaughters a family,” Jax argues, “and people start saying ‘it was such a safe town, we used to leave our doors unlocked…’”
I drop my head back, locking my hands on top. “I’m in prison.”
“No.” Jared turns down his music. “You’re our little sister. And beautiful. A born target.”
For what? Men who might want to talk to me?
I meet his eyes in his rearview mirror and actually laugh. “Do you have any idea what your daughter,” and then I point to Jax, “and your son, for that matter, are getting up to at that camp with their significant others?”
“Don’t piss me off,” Jared bites.
“Don’t gross me out.” Jax scowls.
This is part of the reason I feel younger than my niece and nephews. Jared and Jax are well aware their childrenare in love—and acting upon it—but I’m too fragile to go out at night.
For a minute, I think he’s driving me back to the bakery—or to my parents, where I still live since I just finished school and haven’t had time to rent an apartment—but he stops a block over, in front of the new gym that popped up a couple of years ago.
Which I was interested in checking out, but again, haven’t made time for.
They drag me inside where a young woman is smiling at the counter. “Hi, welcome to Astrophysics. Can I help you?”
