Page 10 of Perilous Healing

She looks down at it. “Tradition.” Her gaze lands on the box in my hands. “Those for Eloise?”

“She wants spaghetti for dinner.”

“Nice. Good meal.”

“Yeah. Well. I’ll see you around.” I turn to leave, but as I’m doing so, I note a man standing across the street from the bakery.

He’s not looking into the windows, but rather down at his phone. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a gray T-shirt, but the gold watch on his wrist captures my attention. I can’t make out the brand, but it’s far too upscale for a man who dresses casually.

Alarm bells ring in my mind as the air around me shifts. Something is off.

“He’s been out there all afternoon,” Bianca says.

I look down at her, noting the worry on her face as she keeps her gaze focused on me. “You’re afraid.”

“Not afraid,” she replies as she stands. “Just curious. Excuse me.” Taking her cupcake and tablet, she leaves the bakery after waving goodbye to Kyra.

I remain where I am, watching the man with the golden watch as he puts the phone up to his ear and starts walking—in the opposite direction of where Bianca went.

It could be nothing.

It’s probably nothing.

But I can’t shake the feeling that something other than a hurricane is heading to Hope Springs. Something that’s been a long time coming.

Chapter4

Bianca

Rain hammers down on top of us for the second time today, but it’s a break from the stifling humid heat that’s been nearly suffocating for the past few hours. My head aches, a throbbing that never seems to want to go away, but at least I’m alive.

Silas sits beside me in the little shelter we were able to find, a small outcropping of rock barely large enough for the both of us. The rain has washed away nearly all the blood and dirt that clung to his skin, revealing a muscled torso bearing bruises and injuries from his time in captivity.

He doesn’t speak much, and I’m certainly grateful for that. Once I start talking, secrets may get spilled, and the man beside me might find out who he truly rescued.

As of now, I don’t think he even has a clue that the woman he pulled out of this hell might as well be the daughter of a demon.

“Today’s my birthday.” I blurt it out. “I think.”

“What is today?” he asks.

“September seventh,” I reply. “If I’ve been counting the days right, which I may not have been.”

“September seventh,” he repeats. “Happy birthday.”

“No need to say that. I was just making conversation.”

“We should do something for your birthday.”

I smile at him because it’s impossiblenotto smile at Silas whenever he’s looking at me like he is now. “No, we shouldn’t. I don’t even like my birthday. I’m honestly not even sure why I said anything.”

“How do you not like your birthday?” he asks, then starts scooping mud from in front of us into a pile.

“It was the day everything fell apart,” I reply.

“What do you mean?”

“My mom died, and I ran away from home.”

---