Page 73 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“Yes, Grams.”

I watch him dash back out into the howling rain and hail, his built frame swallowed by the darkness. The crash of Lola slamming the front door shut feels like a right hook in the stomach. She heads back into Arianna, leaving me to strip off my raincoat.

Overcome by anger, I scrunch it in my hands. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed him or said any of those things. I was feeling vulnerable and lost. He didn’t need me to take my own insecurities out on him.

If he’s hurt, I’ll never forgive myself.

* * *

Staring at the grandfather clock, I watch the minute hand strike twelve for what feels like the millionth time. Lola has taken Arianna up to bed.

The storm is still raging, and the wind rattles the entire contents of the cabin. Despite its high-tech, sturdy construction, window panes judder and the screaming wind whistled down the chimney breast, threatening to extinguish the fire.

The painful wait has run my nerves ragged. I’m too distracted to keep my mind in check. My nails dig into my palms, unnerved by the whispered words in my head.

All your fault, Mrs Sanchez.

No more fighting back.

You’ll never escape here.

This isn’t the first time people have gotten hurt because of me. Nobody understands why I keep my secrets locked up deep inside. It’s more than the disjointed sense of being different that Micah described.

The threat against myself and Arianna still stands, no matter the ocean between us and our old home. If the man I’m married to can brutalise others for his own pleasure, he can find a way to win back his precious treasure.

That’s real power.

He has no limits.

Staring deep into the embers of the fireplace, I’m too deep in thought to hear the creaking floorboards behind me. I startle when a hand brushes my shoulder.

“I’m back, babe.”

Hunched over behind me, Zach is soaked to the bone and shaking all over. Water drips on Lola’s living room floor, creating a puddle around him. His usually tanned skin is tinted a shade of freezing cold blue.

“Zach!” I shout.

He easily catches me when I throw myself into his arms. I don’t care that he’s soaking my sweater and leggings with rainwater. Seeing him safe and sound is the miracle I was waiting for.

“It’s okay, Willow. Everything is fine. I came to let Lola know.”

“Where was he? What happened?”

Peeling my arms from his neck, Zach guides me back to the sofa. “Micah got caught in the overpass, the route was blocked by flooding. He managed to go the long way around, but he got lost and had to camp overnight.”

“Is h-he okay?” I stammer fearfully.

“Mild case of hypothermia, dehydrated and feeling like a fool, but he’s fine. Killian already chewed him out for being a moron. They had a huge fight.”

“Thank God. I was so worried.”

Zach winces as he shakes out his hands, the skin turning a bright shade of red as he warms up. I leap back onto my feet, beginning to panic again. He’s sodden and shivering from head to toe.

“You’re freezing. Take off your clothes.”

“Excuse me?” he says through chattering teeth.

“It’s the quickest way to warm up. You don’t want to get sick.”

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