CHAPTER 1
~ MARI~
I run. I run out the front door of my house sobbing. I don’t know what I think or what I need. I just know that I want Trystan, but when I get to his house, something’s wrong. When Trystan pulls the door open, it seems like he is going to walk out, which is strange since he’s not wearing a shirt and his hair is damp. I glance at his face—his blue eyes are wild. They’re too big, like he has no idea what to do, like I’m the last person he expected on his doorstep.
Trystan hesitates. He looks over his shoulder with panic in his eyes. He tells me to leave in a rush of air. I can hardly make out the word. My heart is pounding. My skin prickles. Something is wrong, but I don’t understand. Before I have a chance to ask, someone slams into Trystan. The door snaps shut as their bodies collide and fall into the wall.
I scream. My hands fly to my face as the sound rips out of the back of my throat. Someone is hurting him. Now it makes sense. Now the look on his face, the fear in his eyes, means something. Trystan was going to run out the front door, but I was standing there blocking his way. If he tried to run past, whoever is fighting with Trystan could have come after me instead.
Trystan threw himself in the middle. He knew someone was behind him.
Glancing around frantically, I try to figure out what to do. I’m tiny. I can’t do anything, but I know what I saw. Someone is hurting Trystan. I pull my cell phone from my pocket and call 911. I’m not even sure what I’m saying. I repeat myself and say the name of the condo unit one more time. They ask me too many questions. They try to keep me in place, but I can’t just stand there. I put the phone down without hanging up. They can find me.
That’s when things get worse. I hear Trystan’s voice through the front window. It’s a strangled yelp and then a crash. Glass shatters inside the house. Horrors are taking place behind that door. My heart thumps in my chest so furiously that I think it might crack my ribs. My muscles tense. Every part of me knows that I’ll get my ass kicked—maybe worse—if I walk through that door, but I have to. I can’t leave him in there. I can’t wait for the police. Trystan needs me. Someone’s hurting him.
I can’t just stand here and cower. But I have nothing to fight with. I glance around and see a busted up brick in the parking lot. I run and grab it. Then, I do the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life—I open the door and go inside.
The sight makes me stop in my tracks. My mouth gap es open. A man in a white dress shirt has Trystan by the throat and is pressing him into the wall. Trystan’s hands are wrapped tightly around the man’s wrists. Every muscle in Trystan’s body is corded tight, like they could snap at any second. His face is a mixture of pain and terror, and is the wrong color. He can’t breathe. Trystan doesn’t see me. The other man doesn’t hear me. He’s screaming at Trystan, blaming him for something that I can’t understand. Every time the man screams, he shoves Trystan back into the wall, harder and harder, choking him.
Rage courses through my veins. My muscles tense and I don’t think. I feel the rock burning a hole in my hand. I feel the pull toward the man’s back , as if the broken brick wants to collide with his head. I launch myself across the room and swing my arm. My hand comes down hard and the brick slams into the man’s head. But, I realize my mistake too late. I’m too short, too weak. I didn’t hit him hard enough.
Instead of falling to the ground, the man drops Trystan to the floor and rounds on me. His eyes burn like acid, overflowing with hatred. I know I’m going to die. The way he looks at me, the way his hands float up so slowly, makes every hair on my body stand on end. I slide one shoe back. My senses are all hypersensitive, but it doesn’t help. I know what he’s going to do. I see him coming toward me, slowly fixating
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