Page 4 of Fallen Angel

Hannah turned towards the fireplace and allowed the flames to warm her cheeks. As she waited for Landon to return, a sense of pride washed over her. This time last year, she was holed up in her bedroom, refusing even to talk to some of her friends. And here she was, at a college party, talking to a boy—a handsome boy.

Hannah drifted through the room and took in all the care-free college kids getting gradually more inebriated. Her pride devolved into guilt.

For a moment, she had forgotten all the darkness and guilt that surviving had plagued her with. She shouldn’t be here. She should be dead, just like her parents. Before those negative thoughts could siege her mind completely, a random guy stumbled toward her.

“Why’s a pretty girl like you standing here all alone?” His slurred words were accompanied by glazed-over eyes and the stench of bile.

Hannah released a tuft of laughter. “Just enjoying my own company,” she said.

“You look sad.”

Hannah straightened. “No, I don’t.”

“How would you know? You can’t see yourself.” His flimsy grip on his cup caused a splash of liquor to cascade down his arm.

“You make a good point,” Hannah said. “You must be very intelligent.” Her deadpan tone was completely lost on his intoxicated state.

“I am,” he said, proud of himself. He wrapped his arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “You like that, don’t you?”

Hannah was quick to crawl out from under his sweaty arm. He faltered toward her and clumsily slammed his forearm against the fireplace, steadying himself close to Hannah. Too close. His stale, bitter breath assaulted her face.

She stepped back, careful not to brush her skin against his sweaty arm hair. She would rather shove her nose in the gas-cinnamon combo than be that close to his mouth ever again.

Before he could set his humid, hairy arm back around Hannah’s shoulders, Landon walked up beside her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, fine.” Hannah exhaled, relieved that she no longer had to endure this drunkard alone.

“I think you’d feel better if you went back to your dorm and drank some water,” Landon said to the blasted guy who swayed in place.

Hannah wanted easy, breezy fun—not sloppy drunk encounters at her first college party. Though, maybe that was too much to ask. It was college, after all.

“Only if she comes with me.” He groped at Hannah’s hand.

Her skin blazed.

She yanked her hand back, but the boy’s clammy grip tightened, crunching her knuckles.

Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears. Anxiety pricked at her arms like tiny needles, spreading from her shoulders to her fingertips. She focused on her breath, but her temperature rose. Her temples dampened with perspiration.

Landon stepped forward. “Let go of her.” He shoved the boy’s shoulder.

Hannah jerked her hand once more. A spark shocked between her palm and his. The white flash thrust Hannah into an unwelcomed memory.

She sat in the backseat of the jeep while her dad drove. Rain thrashed against the roof and windows. Her mom looked back at her from the passenger’s seat—concern in her blue eyes. The tiniest white flash sparked across Hannah’s hands before a strike of lightning pierced the roof of the jeep. Loud. Bright. The car flipped off the bridge. Crashed into the lake. Water everywhere.

Hannah squinted hard as the guy ripped his hand out of hers. “What the hell? That fucking hurt.” Hannah looked down at her reddened palm and rubbed it until the sting disappeared.

“Get lost, man,” Landon said, stepping in front of Hannah.

“My pleasure,” he slurred. He walked away, swaying, and looked back at Hannah. “Freak.”

As soon as he disappeared, Landon turned and looked Hannah over. “What a jerk.” His gaze was serious, but his tone was light.

Hannah felt the blood drain from her face. Her eyes glossed over with tears. She promised herself that she wouldn’t do this.

“Hey, are you okay?”

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