Page 45 of Hexes and Exes

“Listen, whatever is going on between the two of you, well, I won’t say it’s none of my business because it is part of my business. You’re my sister, and I don’t want to see you hurt. That much darkness isn’t right.”

“Hey, I’m just gonna walk over to the office and make sure my boss sees me for five minutes so I don’t lose my job in another few days.” I pat my brother on the shoulder and sprint away, as if we weren’t mid-conversation.

Stellan’s heavy sigh follows me, but I don’t know what to say to him. He’s probably right, but at the same time, nothing is happening between me and Bram. We’re planning a party together. Sure, we kissed, but that’s it. There’s nothing more to worry about. Bram is so far out of my league that it’s not even a concern. Any hurt that I suffer will be because of my own delusions. Which is fucking depressing.

I’ve left without saying goodbye to the others. Honestly, I just don’t have it in me to rehash whatever the fuck that was or to drum up conspiracy theories about how the coven council is out to get us. I’m tired and I don’t want to talk about my fears any longer. I just want to keep my job and have enough money to pay my part of the rent. That’s all.

I cross over the Briar Hollows Bridge and look down at the frozen river below. I’m nearly all the way across when a hand claps down on my shoulder. I spin around in surprise and nearly lose my balance on the iron bridge.

It’s my father.

“Whatever nonsense you’ve gotten yourself involved with, it’s time to grow up, Avalon.”

“Hello to you too.” Before the council summons just now, I think it’s been less than a week since I’ve last seen my parents. I always wonder if they’ll remember me the next time I see them. When will the day come that I’ll be erased from their memories completely?

“It's time for you to come back home.” He flips the collar of his coat up to fight against the chill breeze.

I gape at him. What the Hell? That came out of nowhere. “I’m twenty-eight. I’m not moving back in with you and Mom.”

“Metaphorically. I honestly don’t know how you’ve survived on your own all this time. You’ve had your fun and independence. Now it’s time to put the Vandenberg family first.”

The bridge groans from the cold. His words leave me dumbstruck. “What does that even mean?”

My father’s nostrils flare. “You have a duty to this family. Perhaps I was rash in criticizing that boyfriend of yours.” He frowns at my opened mouth stare. “Even if he is a low-level witch. He might be the best you can manage.”

I clench my jaw so tight it aches.

“It’s time to think about settling down. Having children.”

“Children?” I suck in a breath and then cough when the frozen air coats my lungs.

“While I would have wished better for the future of the Vandenberg line, it seems fate has given us you. Disappointing as you might be, it’s your time to step up.”

I don’t even have the capacity to choke out a “What the fuck?” before my father leaves me standing on the bridge, alone.

My hands are shaking, and my nose is running as I try not to cry. I hate that he can do this to me with a few sharp words. That he has that kind of control over my emotions. I wish I could just shutter my brain or my heart to protect it from the battering that he gives me with so little effort. And yet I can’t. I reach into my pocket, hoping there’s a tissue in there. My hands are too fluffy, and I pull my glove off, only to drop it off the side of the bridge.

“Crone’s titties.” I grit my teeth and give an angry stomp on the frozen bridge. I sniff and wipe off my face and look over at my glove. It landed right on the side of the river. Piper made these gloves for me. They’re magicked to stay warm even on the coldest of days.

No. I shake my head and glare down at the glove. I’m not giving up again just because something seems hard. It’s only a slow walk down a somewhat snowy hill. I’ll grab my glove andthen I will go get myself a coffee, and maybe a cupcake, and say to hell with the rest of this day.

During the summer, people fish in the river, or sit on the rocky embankment and throw pebbles in. A set of stairs lead down to the river's edge. I take those with cautious steps. The last thing I need is to slip and crack my head open. A vision of me bumping my way down to the bottom of the icy steps where someone will find my crumbled body in a cold, dead heap months from now blasts through my brain. And then they won’t even know who I am, because by the time they find my body, everyone will have forgotten me.

“Maiden, Mother, Crone, please help me get my shit together.” I blow out a long breath and grip the cold railing tightly. At the bottom of the steps is a snow-covered bank. In the summer, it’s a small rocky shore. My glove sits right on the edge of where the rocks meet the river. There's enough snow that you can only see the tops of the stones peeking through the white. I’m glad I have my boots on.

I carefully step toward my glove. The last thing I need is a twisted ankle. When I’m close enough, I reach down and swipe up my glove.

“At least I’ve had one successful moment today.” Just as the words leave my mouth, there’s a loud crack.

I jerk my head down. I’m not on the shore like I thought, but directly on the edge of the ice. It gives way and I drop down into the freezing water.

It’s not like a horror movie scene, where the hopeless girl drops into an abyss before you can snap your fingers together. Just like everything else in my life, it’s awkward. Time moves as though in slow motion. If anyone nearby saw me, they would probably think I looked like a turtle sinking in quicksand.

My leg falls into the water first, the icy river soaking my boot and crawling up my pant leg. I use my other foot as leverage andtry to yank my leg back out, but I slip and my second leg joins the first.

Fuck. I’m in the water up to my waist now, but somehow, it’s already stealing the breath from my lungs. I grapple with the rocky shore with one gloved and one bare hand. My skin burns as I rake my fingers through the snow in an attempt to find purchase. That pain is no match to the cold on my lower body, though. All my floundering has broken the ice even more and my coat is completely weighed down. My clothes are so heavy that I can’t get a hold of anything. I try to scream out, to call for help. My lungs are too constricted, and the yell comes out as a tiny gasp.

I’m going to die.

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