Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Sienna was in this with me one hundred percent—for the mere fact she didn’t have a job, home, or money lying around either. She was living with me when the landlord booted us out. Dropping out of college didn’t help her employability. Sharing the unfiltered fortunes of every interviewer she met did the rest.
She wouldn’t abandon me no matter what, but if I didn’t resolve this problem with Digger soon, she’d do even worse and try to protect me. By going to River.
I didn’t get screwed by every man in my life to voluntarily sign up for another to own me.
Used milk cartons, newspaper scraps, and ground cigarette butts littered my weed-lined path. Over my head, honking horns and the steady drum of rubber on pavement added their own music to the city hum.
Morning crested on the horizon, painting our tiny patch of Cinco pink, orange, and gold. Most overpasses were crowded places. Other down-on-their-luck people gathered beneath for the scant protection from the elements, and the protection in numbers.
Sienna and I used to sleep under the North Quay to Waterford Express. Dozens of people, fires, and kind souls willing to share the little they had with us. Until two guys with needle marks on their arms and twitchy noses started eyeing us too often and too long. One night, one of the older women, Judith, woke us up and hissed that we better run. We left without a thought.
A week later, the news hit that those two guys jumped, beat, and stabbed a homeless man for his guitar and the ten dollars he made playing that day. Their faces flashed on the shelter television screen and Sienna and I didn’t doubt that was supposed to be us. That was the last day I wore my mother’s wedding band in public.
The familiar twinge of sorrow and resignation flooded me at the sight of our tent. Sienna fussed around inside, making room for the two of us to share. Lucky for us, we lost the tent with the pillows instead of the one with the air mattress.
We chose this place because it was tucked away and as secluded as you could get in a bustling city. A different kind of vulnerability, though so far, no one’s found a reason to stumble off the sidewalk and come down this far.
“Probably has something to do with you guys.”
I stopped beneath the shedding trees, dropping crinkled dusky leaves to make room for the dozens upon dozens of roosting bats. They were on every branch, hanging from nearly every twig. Uncomfortably large brown and black creatures, ducking their sleepy heads beneath their wings.
“You creepy, fascinating little things. One look at the two hundred of you waiting for an excuse to take flight, and anyone thinking of messing with us, turns around to find something better to do.”
“Talking to the bats again?”
“If you can see the future, I can talk to bats.”
“Those two ideas don’t connect.”
I cracked a smile. It was gone as quickly as it appeared. “I’m going to make it right, Sienna. We don’t need River. We don’t need Digger. You’ve trusted me for a lot longer and further than anyone else would’ve. I’m just asking you not to give up on me now.”
“It’s not about giving up on you.” Sienna came out of the tent, arms open for me. “It’s about—”
A mass of blue and brown fell out of the sky, smashing onto the spot Sienna had just been.
I lunged for her, snapping my sister to me and glanced up out of instinct.
A pale face gazed down on me—twin light pools plumbing the depths of mine. A shiver shot up my spine, rippling goose bumps in time with my blink. I opened my eyes and they were gone.
“Oh my gosh,” Sienna breathed. “Kenzie... look.”
I closed the distance. Lying in a tangle of nylon, polyester, and fiberglass was a pair of legs. Horror leadened my bones. For a moment, I didn’t move or think, refusing to let the truth of what happened and what it meant for the face I’d seen. And that had seen me.
Murder.
“Kenzie, what do we do?” Her voice clogged with tears.
Kneeling down, reassurances stuck on my lips. I brushed the fabric aside, sucking in a breath. A perfect, sculpted vision of full lips, thick brows, and a strong jaw that defied his appearance—deceptively soft and smooth under my grazing touch.
This angel fallen on our doorstep would’ve been perfect in sleep if not for the sweeping seam on his forehead. His lids fluttered as I touched the wound, trying to stanch the blood.
Molten mercury. Swirling smoke. Gathering storm clouds. They flashed in my mind as his shiny gray eyes pierced me.
Attempted murder.
He laid his hand over mine—strong. Steady. His soft whisper floated in my ear, sealing my decision.
The beautiful stranger went limp, eyes rolling up in his head.