Stolen Hearts (Hearts 1)

Theo was edging us down the hallway towards the front door, and my feet tripped us up. He caught himself against the wall, the gun for the moment sliding from me to Ronan who, as I stumbled, was nearly on top of us.

Theo pointed the gun at Ronan’s head, and I whimpered, tears suddenly burning in my eyes. Someone was going to die tonight, that was becoming obvious even to me.

“Oh, Ronan.” Theo laughed. “Do not attempt to play the hero now. Guys like you and me, we mean nothing to them. We’re fucking tools. So get out of my way and let me do my job.”

“I’m going to throw up,” I moaned and, frankly, the spinning world was narrowing, growing black around the edges. Empty in the middle. But this was going to be up to me. And my time was running out. The front door was still open and beyond it the night was completely dark. Without the glass in the sliding door in the kitchen, that door was wide open too. And if I went out that way the garage was closer. I could run, get in the car and drive to the city. To my sister. Could I even drive right now? No. Not likely.

I could run. To the willow tree down by the pond. I could hide in the branches, and she would find me. She would keep me safe. She’d bring me Goldfish crackers and icy cold Cokes and we’d go swimming and everything would be okay.

We would be okay.

I’m sorry, Zilla, I thought. I’m so sorry I thought you were capable of this. That I thought you would hurt me.

And she left here thinking the very worst.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

We were pawns in a game we didn’t even understand.

“I swear to you, man, I don’t want to kill you,” Ronan said to Theo. “Let her go.”

Theo shoved me, and I didn’t actually trip, but I made a convincing lurch to the ground, and while Theo was off balance, I planted my feet and pushed him as hard as I could. All I had was surprise on my side. And this .0001% chance of catching him off guard. He fell away from me, his arm letting me go. Just enough that I could duck under it and make a run for the front door. But I was an idiot, and he caught himself in time to grab my hair. He yanked me back off my feet, and I slammed into the ground so hard I saw stars. My will to fight, to leave, to get to the willow tree and my sister; to maybe find answers about any of the forces pulling the world apart, dwindled down to nothing.

Right now, it felt easier to let the world just go.

And then suddenly there was Ronan, smashing Theo’s entire body against the wall.

“Run!” Someone yelled it. Or maybe it was a voice in my head. My sister manifesting after all these years, and I got to my feet, my feet slipping in the boots. But I charged out of that house.

You’re about to run the fifty-yard dash in a ballgown.

He’d said that. A million years ago.

And he killed my husband. Humiliated me. Lied to me. Saved me? Was that what he was doing, right now? He was kind to me when no one was kind to me. Brought part of me back to life that had been dead for so long. Whatever he was, none of it made sense.

I was at the front door when the sound of a gunshot ripped through the house. I fell to the ground, scraping my elbows and knees, throwing my arms up over my head.

In the silence after the gunshot, I turned, looked behind me.

Ronan, framed in the golden light of the open door, stood over Theo’s body. His black overcoat blowing out behind him in the cross breeze from all my broken windows. From my entirely broken life.

He was alive. I felt that somewhere. That he’d been the one to survive in the fight with Theo. That the gunshot was not the end of his life. My heart lifted at the sight of him.

I got slowly to my feet. Stumbling and weak from the drugs in my system. Part of me wanted to walk to him. To that bright square of light. To his arms. But I stood there in the cold night, the frosty grass unmoving.

No. He was not the answer. If I could get to my sister I could figure this out. She’d help me put the pieces together.

Or I could ask Ronan. Just ask him what—

He lifted the gun in his hand. Pointing it at me.

At me.