Page 4 of Heart of a Rebel

I might imagine it, but I’m pretty sure Adrian snorts in amusement at my comment.

“Funny.” Sebastian stands up and nudges me on the arm. “Come on sis, let’s have some fun.”

I slap my notebook shut and tuck it into my bag. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Sebastian ruffles my hair, then turns to Adrian. “Saturday.”

“Saturday.” Adrian nods, as Sebastian disappears back to the table.

“Sure you don’t want that drink?” Adrian asks me again, looking from me to the increasingly rowdy group of guys in the corner.

I shake my head. “I’d just throw it at them.”

My comment makes Adrian smile for the first time tonight, and I hope he doesn’t notice my breath catching in my chest at the sight of it. Lightning might as well flash in the sky with the force of thunder I feel rolling behind my ribs because his grin is striking.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you around then.” Adrian places a glass in the drying rack and plants his hands once more on the bar in front of me.

I slide out of my stool. “Guess so.”

“Looking forward to it.” He nods, the faintest hint of interest in his eyes as he watches me turn and walk away.

I’m not sure how to interpret his statement, much less the knot his words formed inside me. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not looking for a boyfriend, especially some guy who’s friends with my brother.

All I need right now is myself and my music—for my dreams to take me far away from Fairfield, California.

Men with Adrian’s magnetic eyes are going to have to wait.

2

Adrian

Ijoltawake.Sweatdrips down my neck and soaks through my T-shirt. My ears are still ringing, even if only in my imagination, and my heart is racing in my chest.

Light streaks through the window, and it takes me a minute to catch my bearings.

Home.

You’re home.

I take a deep breath and climb out of bed, reminding myself the floor isn’t the same as the minefield in my memories. But it doesn’t stop me from taking careful steps and assessing every inch of the room. Muscle memory reminds me to stay on high alert because I know at any moment things can be fine, and then—

Chaos.

Destruction.

Obliteration.

Turning on the shower, I step under the cold water and let it wake me up fully. Shivers coil beneath my skin as reality shifts back into focus. I close my eyes to shake what’s left of the nightmares, but I’m met with the face that haunts the back of my eyelids.

Cerulean eyes.

I turn the dial until the water is nearly scalding, but it isn’t enough.

It’s never enough.

Some things live with you in ways that go deeper than any memory you’ve saved from childhood. They brand you like embarrassment and pain. Leaving notches in your heart where their memory sliced a piece out. One cut at a time until you’re Swiss cheese and they’re gone.

In my support group, I hear that over time the nightmares become less frequent, and the ruin of war won’t rest on the edge of your mind forever. That the unhinged reactions will lessen, instead of waiting to break out at any given moment.

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