Exodus (The Ravenhood)

That’s not thunder.

Leaping from the mattress, I search the room around me and come up empty.

Now isn’t then, Cecelia. Get the door.

Rattled, I slip on my robe and grab my gun from my purse, trying to shake myself free of the fear.

Now isn’t then, Cecelia.

The longer I stay, the distinction of past and present are becoming clearer, and I’m relatively safe. I’ll never be the girl incapable of fighting or attempting to save myself again. I’ve been an armed woman since I left Triple Falls. Collin and I got into a ton of fights over my selection of small guns. I always won.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

Rain batters the house, washing the new snow away as I keep my gun lowered, padding down the staircase.

Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.

“Dominic, no!”

I inhale a calming breath as I reach the front door and look out to see headlights shining through sheets of rain. I can’t make out the car.

I scream out as the bang sounds again, and he hears me.

“Open the fucking door, Cecelia.”

I flip on the porch light as the hairs on my neck rise. He pounds once again, and I open it to see Tobias drenched from the rain, his eyes glossy, his expression stone. He’s dressed in the suit he was wearing at dinner, the tie around his neck pulled loose and hanging, his glossy dark locks drenched.

His eyes drink me in pausing on the gown he bought me years ago before he takes an aggressive step forward, and then another, until I’m backed against the foyer table, my hand outstretched behind me for support.

He glances down at the gun in my hand and in one swift move, slaps it out of my grip. It slides across the floor and lands with the barrel pointed against the wall.

“You idiot! The safety was off!”

“You’re unarmed now, and that’s what you’re worried about?” He staggers forward, his posture searing with intimidation. He’s been drinking, and he’s furious.

“You won’t hurt me.”

“Won’t I?”

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“You happened. Why haven’t you left?”

“Why does it matter? I’m not doing anything to you. I’m not bothering you.”

“Your presence bothers me!”

He’s soaked through, the water dripping down his profile. I lift my chin.

“Tough shit.”

He glares down at me as the sky lights up behind him, and thunder rolls in the distance.

“You won’t hurt me.”

“Think again,” he grips my face so tight I know I’ll have faint bruises tomorrow. “I told you to leave it alone. But you just couldn’t. When are you going to understand we were nothing but a weak moment?”

“So much of nothing you’ve been at the bar rehearsing this speech for how long?”