Page 35 of Lavender and Lightning

When we settle under the covers, Lydia turns and lays her head on my chest, her injured arm draped over my stomach. I wrap my arm under her neck and behind her shoulders, pulling her close into my side as I lie on my back. She’s so small and soft, her hair like strands of honeyed silk as it slides between the gaps in my fingers. Her scent fills every part of me, lilacs and lavender and vanilla invading every nook and cranny of my soul with light and bubbly warmth. The sound of her breathing is a lullaby, and I drift off as her little snores reach my ears.

fifteen

Lydia

Myheartpoundsasthe front door of our apartment closes. My head still aches, and my throat is sore and bruised, but I’m alive. I look at the dent in the wall across the living room from me, the shape of my head and shoulders distinct in the plaster. I swallow with some difficulty, hands shaking as I pick up my cell phone and dial the only person I can think to help me now.

“Hey, Lydia, what’s going on?”

Jason’s deep, upbeat tone in my ear cracks the dam that is holding back the tide of fear and desperation that’s been growing for the last week since the fight.

“Jace, I need help,” I whisper, speaking still difficult around the damage to my windpipe.

“Whoa, what the fuck happened to your voice?” Jason asks back with a laugh.

“I need somewhere to go, Jace. Please,” I beg, my voice cracking.

“Will you at least tell me what happened?” Jason counters with a scoff.

“Darren and I had a fight. A bad one. I don’t feel safe anymore,” I admit, my shoulders slumping as shame builds in my chest.

“Jesus, Lydi. I knew that guy was bad news. Have you called Mom and Dad?”

“Mom told me it’s my fault. That I shouldn’t have provoked him.”

“Well, did you?”

The question hangs between us, and my heart breaks in my chest. Why would my little brother, my best friend, my closest confidant, even ask something like that?

“Jason, of course I didn’t. But he hurt me. I need to get out of here, figure some stuff out. Please, can I crash on your couch? Just for a few days,” I press, trying not to let the tears streaming down my swollen face come through in my voice.

“I mean… Allen and I have a party planned for this weekend. You sure you can’t work it out until Monday?” Jason asks back, his voice full of hesitance.

I swallow my sob, pulling the phone away from my ear so he can’t hear my whimper of pain. “I’m so scared, Jace. I need—”

“Listen, I have to get to practice. I’ll call you later, okay? Try calling Sam. He might be able to help,” Jason says, speaking quickly over me.

My stomach drops, the weight of his dismissal worse than every bruise and cut on my body. When I need him, my own brother is turning his back on me.

“Sure,” I manage to get out.

“Sweet. Talk soon. Love you, Lydi.”

Jason hangs up before I can even say it back. I break down into tears, falling to the threadbare carpet and curling into a ball. The world is too loud, full of slamming doors and shouting, fists hitting the wall. My phone rings, but I can’t find it in the dark pit of fear and despair I’ve fallen into. Alone in the dark, waiting for Darren to step through the front door and punish me for trying to escape.

“And you thought you’d finally managed it, didn’t you, petal?”

I sit up, the apartment lost in a sea of black, but Darren’s slanting Cajun tenor fills every corner of the space. I spin on my knees, my eyes wide and straining to find him.

“But there’s no escaping me. You’re mine. And I’ll teach you the consequencesofletting another alpha touch what belongs to me.”

I feel a hand in my hair a moment too late, and I let out a shriek when my head gets pulled back, my neck throbbing with the strain. I can smell the tobacco and clay of his anger, taste it on my tongue and in my mouth until I’m coughing. I struggle against the grip on my hair, but I can’t shake him free.

Suddenly, I’m pitched forward, my face slamming into the hard ground beneath me. The crunch of my nose vibrates through my face before I feel the pain like a white-hot poker against my skin. I’m pulled up and slammed down again. Each time my skull hits the earth, the world erupts with sound. My vision blurs, my throat raw from screaming, and I try to fight as I’m forced to the ground again and again. Somehow through it all, I can hear him laughing, cackling—

“LYDIA WAKE UP!”

My eyes fly open, a shrill scream tearing free from my throat at the same time as a thunderous crash. I thrash as I feel hands on my shoulders, shaking me.

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