“I can’t, Linc. You know that.”
The temperature drops. My hairs stand on end. A chill skitters up my spine as her face slowly changes in front of my eyes—skin paling, eyes turning cold and lifeless. The version ofher I hate the most, but the one that’s always in my head, the one I can’t forget.
Goose bumps ripple over my skin. “What’s happening to you?” I yell. “What is this?”
She tilts her head, her smile gone, her lips cracked. Heart jackhammering against my chest, I let off the gas, but my foot is locked on the pedal, my hands glued to the steering wheel as the car picks up speed. We’re going too fast.
The song distorts. Slows. A deep, haunting tempo.
She coughs. Blood sputters from her mouth and oozes down her chin. Her breathing quickens, getting choppy, like she can’t take in air, like she’s dying.
“Emily! Emily!”
Ringing. Like a phone. Louder and louder. Blasting in my ears. The sound fills the car, fills my head.
“Emily!” I shout again.
“Don’t you remember, Linc?” She wraps her arms around her middle, a sob racking her body. “We don’t survive this.”
She whips her head around and screams.
I turn too. Just in time to see a pair of headlights coming straight for us. I twist the wheel. I lose control. Emily’s head snaps forward, and I brace against the dash as the car slams into the jagged rock-cut hugging the edge of the highway.
2
My stomach heaves.I lurch forward, hanging over the edge of the bed as my body threatens to expel my last meal. In my panic, I tilt too far and barely manage to get my arms out in front of me before I hit the floor with a painful thump.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I roll onto my back.
God. Fucking. Dammit.
Heart pounding in a violent flurry of punches against my ribcage, I drag my hands down my sweaty face and suck in a big gulp of air.
Deep breaths.
My phone rings. I ignore it.
That fucking dream. Her fucking face. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the images to go away. They only become clearer. Dead eyes. Dead Emily.
Deep. Fucking. Breaths.
More ringing. Reaching up, I run my hand over my nightstand, fumbling for my phone. When I find it, I slap my hand down on the screen until the sound stops.
Big breath in. Big breath out.
Dreams of Emily always make for shit sleep. The car, the argument. Her unbuckling her seat belt. That fucking song. Same dream, same feelings after. Or maybe they’re different now. Before, it was all guilt and blame. Now I’m pissed off. Or maybe I’m tired. Tired of seeing her face, of not fucking sleeping.
I press my palms to my eyes and let out another long breath.
My phone rings again. This time when I reach for it, I accept the call. “Yeah, what?”
“Decker?”
I rough a hand down my face as my partner’s voice scratches at my skull. “Why do you always do that?”
He’s silent for a second, like he doesn’t understand the question. “Do what?”
“Say my name when you call me like you’re not sure it’s me. It’s always gonna be me on the other end, Miller. Because you fucking called me.”
