After opening the door, I step out onto the porch with my heart pulling apart at the seams.
“Pinky promise you’ll come back soon?” Maggie asks, holding up her little finger.
A tight-lipped smile on my face, I hook my finger with hers. “Pinky promise. I’ll come home tomorrow if you need me to.”
She smiles. “Not too soon. Aunt Jess has fun stuff planned, ‘member?”
I laugh. “Okay. Deal. I’ll come back after the fun stuff.”
Standing, I waltz toward the car as my sister and daughter wave at me. They keep waving until long after I’ve closed the driver’s door. I blow her a kiss before pulling away from the curb.
Ravens Ridge is a tiny town, two hours from Raleigh. It’s the place Gran was born and raised. Eventually, my mom sent Shane to live there full time because he kept getting in trouble at school.
The first hour of the drive isn’t horrible. The sun’s shining, and I’m busy pretending I’m not going back to the town that ruined my life six years ago while Bob Dylan serenades me. He was Gran’s favorite, and over the years he became a sense of comfort for me. But the closer I get, the more reality eats at my subconscious.
It’s not a bad town if you can stay away from the Ravens Ridge Riders. The local motorcycle club is the reason for the growing crime rate and booming drug scene. But staying off their radar is easier said than done, considering my brother’s a member—oh, and my jackass ex-boyfriend’s their president.
Twenty minutes from Gran’s, I’m jolted from my anxious thoughts.
Bang.
My heart plummets as the car lurches, and I pull to the side of the road.
For a moment, I’m transported out of this car into a different time. Nausea rolls through me.
Three things I see: the sun shining in the clear sky, the green grass on the side of the road, a red truck passing me on the other side.
Three things I hear: the air conditioner blowing, my ragged breaths, my heart thumping in my ears.
Three things I feel: the steering wheel—slick from my sweating palms, the leather seat sticking to my bare legs, the dull ache in my thigh that I’m never really sure is real or phantom.
In through your nose, Ash. You’re okay.
“Damn it,” I mutter, slamming my hands on the wheel.
Climbing out of the driver’s seat, I groan at the blown back tire and lift my face to the sky as I fight the urge to cry. I should probably just go back home, right? There is no way this isn’t a bad omen. I haven’t even made it all the way to the stupid town and things are already falling apart.
“Shit!” My foot collides with the rubber.
Taking a few deep breaths, I try and fail to calm my nerves as I flop into the driver’s seat and yank the door closed. My hands tremble as tears stream down my face.
Pulling my phone from my purse, I dial the only person in this godforsaken town I can trust—Shane. Thank goodness he works at the garage in town, but unfortunately, so does Gabe, and steering clear of him is the only shot I have at surviving this trip down memory lane.
“Hello?” My shoulders relax and the tears slow at the sound of his deep voice.
“Hey,Shane,” I sniffle.
“What’s wrong?” Concern laces his voice.
“I must have hit something. I have a flat tire. I’m fine, just—” I pause for a second, trying to think of the words to describe the clashing emotions I’m currently feeling. “Nervous? I don’t know. I don’t think I can do this.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, I promise. Are you close? I’ll come get you.”
“I’m like twenty minutes out. Right outside the sawmill.” I wipe the tears from my face. “But Shane, you can’t tell anyone about this.”
“I know. I got you. I’m walking out the door now.”
He hangs up, and I drop my head into my hands.
