Beneath the Stars (Falling Stars 4)

A blaze that singed my blood and a sickness that crawled beneath the surface of my skin.

A permanent ache.

Being brutalized the way I had was a far cry from what should be considered ordinary.

It made me sick that it almost was.

That it occurred so often, affected so many, that it’d become the everyday.

I refused to accept it.

Wanted to change it.

I knew the scars would forever remain. That they had played a part in shaping who I was today.

But I could feel them shifting. Transforming. As if when the wounds callused over, those fragile spots had become stronger.

The brittle fractures hardening.

The weakness strengthening.

That’s the way I felt.

Stronger.

I was terrified, but I was ready.

The ugly duckling that grew into a swan, but it didn’t have a thing to do with the exterior.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

I felt the rhythm in my ears.

My feet and my heart rate and the bass from the song that blasted through my earbuds.

When I’d made it about two miles from the house, I decided I’d better get back before I let myself drift too far.

Carolina George was scheduled for their first practice at ten, and I needed to grab a shower before I was due to watch Amelia.

It was auntie duty time.

My heart fluttered.

Now that was one label I was all too eager to accept.

I glanced over my shoulder to check that the road was clear.

Lush branches swayed beneath the bright, glaring sun, and birds flitted through the morning air. Other than that, there wasn’t a soul afoot.

The neighborhood was quiet and overflowing with the tranquility I’d felt the moment we’d crossed onto the island.

I made a U onto the other side of the road and started in the opposite direction.

My playlist changed to a faster, rowdier song, and my strides grew longer.

Stronger and faster.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

Drenched in sweat, I hooked a left when I got to the intersecting street. It led through an older neighborhood that cut through the middle of the island. The houses here were more modest and without a beach view.

Here, the trees grew thicker, the foliage dense and green.

With the back of my hand, I swiped the sweat dripping across my forehead, feeling the burn in my muscles and exhilarated at the same time.

An expectation gathered at the far corners of my senses.

I felt like I was on the cusp of…something.

Something great.

Something big.

Something that might change everything.

An elderly woman who was tending to her flower garden waved as I passed, and I waved back, a smile on my face and flickers of joy sparking all around.

I gave myself over to it.

The exertion.

The freedom.

I guessed I was about halfway down the street when that free feeling shifted.

When it curled and twisted and mangled into a prickling of dread.

I tried to ignore it.

Shake it off.

I was so tired of it—so tired of being a prisoner to the fear.

So tired of the paranoia that had stolen so many of my days.

Crippling.

Making me question what was real and what should cause me concern.

But that disquiet only intensified. It slithered down my spine in a sticky awareness.

I whipped my head around.

Nothing.

Trying to shake it off, I took the next right and increased my pace.

But I couldn’t outrun the feeling.

Panic built.

Violent.

Vehement.

I looked behind me again.

There was a car a bit back in the distance.

A silver car that I could chalk up to being a rental. Innocuous and plain.

Most likely a tourist.

Trying to claim it, I faced ahead and tried to get it together.

I was fine.

I was letting the ghosts haunt.

The demons invade.

The paranoia cripple.

On top of it was the worry that I might not be able to pull this off. That I was going to be found out before I had the chance to make it right.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

My feet thudded the ground.

But the thunder was coming louder. A wild drumming in my ears that spread to my chest.

Out of sync with the music.

Drumming out of time.

Faster and fiercer.

My breaths grew harsh. Short, haggard pants as I pushed myself into the panic. Trying to flee.

And then a wave of it crashed over me.

Terror.

A surge of it nearly knocked me from my feet as I whipped my head around to see the car suddenly accelerate. It screamed up the street in my direction.

From harmless to sinister in a second flat.

I veered farther off the side of the road in hopes of getting out of the way.

I was being crazy. I was allowing fear to dictate.

Only I swore the car swerved in my direction.

Every nerve in my body fired.

Fight or flight.

I dove.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

I flailed through the air as the car raced by.

The ferocity of its energy burst in the air.

So close.

So close.

I slammed against the ground.

Hard.

A tangle of limbs and ripping skin as the momentum sent me tumbling.

Tumbling and tumbling.

Grunts and jagged cries ripped from my mouth.

I finally came to a stop.