“No,” Lucy snapped.
“Yes,” Rosie declared at the same time.
They scowled at each other.
“Well, you two have fun working that out. I’ll see you inside.”
I turned my back to their bickering, grinning at Gabriel, who was leaning against his bike, arms folded, waiting for me.
Such a normal moment, having him staring at me like that, having the itch down to a manageable level. Going to a party where I actually started to feel like I belonged had me feeling something I knew I shouldn’t.
Something that was dangerous.
Deadly.
Hope.
And then when I answered the phone, that hope was shattered into a thousand pieces.
“Yello,” I greeted, my voice light.
“Hey, baby,” a familiar sickening voice drawled.
I stopped in my tracks. My smile froze on my face and my throat closed up.
“No greeting? Not even your trademark smart mouth?” he continued. “I’m surprised. Delightfully so. My boys managed to fuck it out of you.” There was a loaded pause and his heavy breathing filled my ears. “That’s until those biker fucks came in and killed them all. Blew up our fuckin’ house. Now that was just rude,” he hissed. “Turnabout’s fair play. Your boyfriend blows up my friends, kills my family, I blow up yours. Though I am disappointed to let such two hot pieces go to waste.” He sighed.
I found control over my body at his words, at the chilling realization of what he meant.
Lucy and Rosie had just finished their fight and looked like they were about to get into their car.
I dropped my phone, not needing the poison of his words anymore. I had bigger things to worry about.
“Rosie!” I screamed, my voice shrill. “Get away from the car.”
I didn’t wait for my words to penetrate, just started sprinting towards them. The man at the SUV did the same and Rosie and Lucy reacted immediately, running from the vehicle.
I got to them.
Not soon enough.
Or maybe just in time, depending on who you asked.
Because just as the man snatched Lucy out of her run and dove on top of her, the world exploded into face-melting heat and the air became a dump truck, pushing me through the air.
I was flying on the scorching air.
Then I wasn’t.
The ground came at me at a surprising speed.
Then it didn’t.
Because then there was nothing.
It was the ringing that woke me. The ringing that was so loud and so shrill it rattled through my forehead.
I blinked, trying to shake the sound out. Gabriel’s face was the first thing I saw, terror cloaking it. His mouth was moving, but all I could hear was the ringing.
I blinked again and tried to move.
Gabriel’s hands were around me and he said something else, his other hand going to my face and pulling it close to his.
“I can’t hear you,” I said, my voice sounding muffled in my own ears, like I was underwater.
I tried to move again, feeling disoriented. My head pounded like a bitch, but I think the rest of me was in one piece.
Physically, at least.
Then it hit me. What happened. Why I was lying on the concrete with Gabriel leaning over me, panic on his face.
I struggled to get up, my ears still ringing.
Gabriel stopped my motion, his mouth moving again.
I kept struggling, gazing past his face. There was black smoke and flames rising from the remains of Rosie’s car. People were running around everywhere; it was like watching a silent movie, the chaos on mute. I couldn’t see past the smoke and debris. Couldn’t see Rosie. Or Lucy.
They had been right beside me. Or where I was seconds before. Now it looked like I was a good five feet away from my previous spot.
“Let me up,” I snapped, my voice not sounding right in my head.
Then in a soft pop, sound came back in, more grating and painful than the ringing. People were yelling, one in particular.
“Stay the fuck down, Becky,” Gabriel growled. “I don’t know what other injuries you’ve got, and I’m not lettin’ you hurt yourself.”
I kept struggling. “Other injuries?” I repeated, my ears still ringing. “I don’t have any. I’m fine. Where’s Rosie and Lucy? Are they okay?”
“Stop,” he commanded, taking my neck in his hands. “Babe. You are injured. Stop movin’ so I can put some pressure on that.”
I stared at him. He wasn’t looking into my eyes, but at my forehead. “What?”
I answered my own question as warm liquid trickled down the side of my face and I put my hand up to my cheek. It came back red.
“Oh,” I said, vacantly.
“Yeah,” he clipped. “Now tell me, you hurt anywhere else? You can feel all your toes?” His gaze flickered down my body.
I followed it, taking stock with my mind. My cropped white shirt was no longer white and it was streaked with black marks. There was a rip in my jeans and one of my sneakers was missing.