Page 32 of Reckless
Because she’s going to disappear.
And I can’t let that happen.
The man smiles, likely thinking of every coin he’ll make off us. “We’ll begin shortly.” The crowd resumes their idle chatter, already beginning to bet on their champion.
But my eyes never stray from her covered face, though I’vememorized every inch of what lies beneath the folds of her scarf. If I knew her any less, I might not have seen the signs. Might have missed the way she takes a casual step around the table, right into the path of some bickering onlookers.
It’s as though she truly is made of shadow.
I take a step toward her, shoving people aside before she can melt into the madness. Catching the ripple of her scarf, I slide between bodies, attempting to keep up with her. Heads turn as I curse colorfully. The crowd has swallowed her whole, but I fight my way to the cellar door I know she’s slinking toward.
Steel screeches, informing me that she’s about to slip away into the night. Murmurs follow as I continue pushing my way to the door, only cracked wide enough for her familiar frame to slip through. Prying it open, I bound up the steps and into the darkness beyond.
My ears ring in the sudden silence while my eyes attempt to adjust. The muted echo of heavy strides has my head whipping to the right before my feet begin racing.
I can just make out the outline of her form before it turns down another alley. I’m sprinting—legs pumping, heart pounding.
But she can’t outrun me. And what worries me the most is that she knows it.
I’m gaining on her, tailing each of her turns meant to throw me off. Only seconds separate us from the fate we’ve both found ourselves in. Only seconds before she’s haunting me outside my nightmares.
She turns another corner, and I follow.
… darkness.
I skid to a stop, head swiveling in search of her shadowy figure.
Nothing.
“What the hell…?” I murmur under my breath, taking slow steps across the stones. I scan the walls around me before my gaze climbsup to the flat roof above. A window resides in the center of the bricks, acting as the perfect step stool.
Found you.
Wedging my foot atop the windowsill, I pull the rest of my limbs up until I’m balancing on the ledge. I stand there for a moment, palms sweaty and throat dry. The seconds slow. Even time seems to hold its breath in anticipation of our reunion.
And then it exhales. Time resumes. And I curl my fingers over the edge of the roof to lift myself up.
I swing my legs up in one swift movement, standing in the next.
First, there is nothing.
Second, there is everything.
There is her.
“Move, and I’ll sink this dagger into your heart.”
No. There is hatred.
Moonlight glints off the blade between her fingers. She’s poised to strike, her arm cocked and voice steady.
That voice.
It’s exactly as it was. Neither of us changed, and yet, here we stand—strangers.
I swallow, opening my mouth—
“That includes your lips,” she says sharply. I blink, struggling to bite back the scoff she begins talking over. “The only reason I haven’t thrown this knife yet is because I have a proposition for you.”
