Page 92 of Pretty Heartache

His name barely falls from my lips before a sharp pain hits my cheek and I meet the cold, hard ground. Then the world fades to black.

TWENTY-FOUR

I didn’t want to leave Adeline.

Constant worry has made a home in my chest, refusing to leave. But with Archer’s reassurance of settling his debts with Soren, I gave in when Adeline pled her case about why this trip was too important for me to miss.

Now I’m fucking cursing myself for leaving her alone. Panic has risen inside my body at an alarming rate. Ray has barely pulled into the driveway and parked the car when I jump out of the backseat. Lennon follows, his footsteps heavy behind me.

The rain is still pouring down in heavy sheets—a typical end of summer storm in New England. The tree branches sway angrily, the whipping rain falling against my face so hard it stings my skin. Trees slam against the brick exterior of the house, their leaves floating through the air and across the yard.

I stand in the driveway at the side of the house, but the house is completely dark now, with not a single light peeking through the windows. The gate to the backyard is wide open, and when a flash of lightning cracks in the sky, I get a clear view of the backyard.

Adeline is nowhere in sight.

I stand in a large puddle, the water soaking into my shoes and socks. The cool rain in the late summer heat mixes in the air, causing a chill to shoot straight into my bones. This doesn’t feel right.

“Micah!” Lennon yells over the noise of the rain. I look over my shoulder at him. His suit is completely soaked, his tie clinging to his shirt. “Someone’s in your house.” He nods toward the back door, his eyes trained on one of the windows upstairs.

Both of our heads snap in the direction of the sounds coming from inside: shattered glass followed by muffled yelling.

“Have Ray call the police,” I tell Lennon.

I don’t even wait for his acknowledgement before sprinting to the back door. I make a quick run through the downstairs without any luck finding Adeline. I stop in the living room and listen for more sounds similar to those I heard outside. The floorboards creak upstairs, the muffled sounds of footfalls echoing through the ceiling. Following the sound, I run upstairs, unsure of what I’m going to find.

My mind plays over all different types of scenarios. Ones where Adeline is completely lost to me. One where I’ll find Soren or Lachlan standing over her lifeless body. I’d be too late to save her. I wouldn’t have kept my promise to protect her.

When I make it to the top of the stairs, I poke my head into each bedroom, calling for Adeline.

She doesn’t answer, and each time I investigate a room, the claws of fear sink in deeper. The power is still out, making it harder to see. My eyes try to adjust to the lack of light, but every second that passes where I’m wasting time looking, I feel myself drifting farther away from finding her.

“Adeline!” I yell her name once I’m farther down the hallway and stop when I hear her groan coming from my bedroom.

I run the last few feet before I push through the partially open door.

My heart stops the second I see her.

Adeline is lying in the middle of the floor, curled in the fetal position. I sprint toward her, the blood draining from my face down to my feet. I’m weightless, and within a moment, my worst fears are realized. With shaky hands, I hold them above her, afraid to touch her. I don’t know what to think or where to begin. I look her up and down. The tarp is lying beside her. She’s wearing her dark green garden boots and her black raincoat. I fear she isn’t breathing until I stare at her chest long enough to see it move. Her hood is shielding half of her face, and I push it back, my fingers grazing her skin. Blood drips from her mouth, and a large cut stretches from her jaw back to her ear.

I swallow the thick lump in my throat. “Addy?”

She groans, and I momentarily breathe a sigh of relief. My heart thumps in my chest at the sight of her. She squeezes her eyes shut, and I wrap my hands gently around her. I place one on her back. With my other, I hook my fingers under her chin, gently lifting it so she’s looking up at me. Cracking her eyes open slowly, she takes me in.

“Micah?” she croaks.

“I’m here, baby.”

She tries to move by lifting herself up onto her elbow, but she winces in pain. A sharp hiss slips between her gritted teeth, and her hand flies to her ribs.

“Don’t move.” Fear slips into my voice.

She’s still groaning in pain when I lift her gaze to mine again. She falls back onto the floor, still holding her hand to her ribs.

“Who did this to you?” I ask.

She moans again, her chin trembling. If tears are spilling from her eyes, I’m unable to tell. She’s still sopping wet from the rainstorm.

Her shoulders wrack with a sob and she squeezes her eyes shut. She rolls, burying her face away from view. The tip of her nose presses into the hardwood floor.

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