A phantom pang slices into my side and I wince, gaining a few glances from the students sitting close to me. My heartbeat accelerates and I swear under my breath, trying to calm myself down before I have a full blown panic attack remembering that horrid night. Jensen’s words echo in my mind and I force myself to concentrate on the techniques he taught me, causing my panic to subside. The pain’s a different story; it only cuts deeper into my soul at how much I miss him despite everything that has happened since the day he sent me away.
“What about you, Saige?” Dr. Parsons begins, stepping next to my desk. “Do you believe in the paranormal?”
Swallowing hard, I force a smile while trying to shut down all the memories of when I’ve sensed a death before it’s happened, seen events before they’ve occurred, and of that place where I lived forty-five days in hell. All eyes are on me and I drop my gaze to my desk, mumbling, “I have a pretty open mind.”
Thankfully, Dr. Parsons moves a few seats up the aisle and I sink against the back of my chair, waiting for the next half hour to hurry up and pass so I can get the hell out of here. As soon as class is over, I shove my notebook in my backpack and practically sprint towards the door, not stopping until I burst through the double doors at the end of the hall and into the sunshine. Turning my face towards the sun, I allow its warmth to soak in, calming me. That’s one of the things I love about California - the sun’s almost always shining.
I feel the rush of emotions seep inside before I hear the students coming through the door. Luckily, most everyone feels carefree today. Tagging behind a couple holding hands, I enjoy the warm breeze blowing my long, dark hair. The feeling of serenity is rare for me so I bask in it any chance I get. The bell in the tower dings and I turn down the brick path towards my English Lit class when a cold, dark heaviness crashes into me with a force stronger than I’ve ever felt before from someone else’s emotions. The blow feels so real and my knees buckle, slamming onto the hard bricks below. A gasp of pain escapes as I frantically look around the quad, trying to see whose emotions I’m feeling.
“Are you alright, Saige,” Riah asks, picking up my backpack that slid off my shoulder.
The darkness is all consuming, spreading through every part of me, as horrifying images accompany the eclipse. My head spins when I realize that I’m feeling the emotions from the man in my premonitions.
Oh God…he’s here
. Forcing myself to focus, I fight against his emotions as I grab Riah’s wrist, “I know this is going to sound crazy, but don’t go to class tomorrow. You’ll die if you do. Go home, now.”
Riah jerks her wrist from my grasp, slowly backing away as that all-too-familiar look in her eyes shows me the feelings radiating from her. She thinks I’m nuts, or, like Jake loves to say, a total whack job. Maybe I am, but I’m also right. Dammit! I hate to be right when it comes to this.
“Please, Riah, just take an early weekend and go visit your parents,” I call to her, scanning every face I can see.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re on, Saige, but stay away from me,” Riah commands, her fear and uneasiness slowly seeping out of me with every step she takes away from where I am.
I don’t respond; I’m too busy trying to find the bastard in the crowd as horrific images flash in my mind from the aftermath of whatever he has planned. I don’t have time to think about how I’m seeing the images when I’m not dreaming. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, zeroing in on what
I
feel so I can push all the other emotions back. I don’t know how I know it’s a man, I’ve never seen his face, but this monster is definitely a man.
His darkness bleeds my energy, and I shake my head, trying to break his hold. He’s not on the quad but he has to be close or I wouldn’t be able to feel him. Surveying the buildings closest to me, I decide on checking the Science lab first. My energy being sucked like a leach more each second is a pretty good indicator I’m heading the right direction. The loud squeak of the old door reverberates off the walls of the empty hallway as I step inside. His emotions get stronger and I get weaker. He’s close.
The doors at the far end of the hall slam shut and I drop my backpack, running as fast as the slick tile will allow without me busting my ass. The sun blinds me as I tumble through the door, but I get a glimpse of him before he rounds the corner and follow him to the apartment building a couple of blocks away from the college. I lean against the alley wall across the street, knowing that I have no idea what the hell I’m doing, but I take this chance to catch my breath as I back as far into the alley as possible while still allowing myself to see the door so I can try to gain some of my energy back.
It’s only a few minutes before I feel him zapping me again, and I slowly breathe in and out, watching him walk down the street. My heart is beating so damn fast, I can feel it pulsating in my throat as I cross the street. The emotions from the tenants bombard me as his darkness fades. I hate apartment buildings, they’re even worse than dorms. I swear, if I had enough money, I would buy a cabin in the woods and feel nothing but my own emotions.
Reaching C2, I feel his residual energy, a cool trick Jensen taught me, as I stand outside the door.
Oh God, what if he has a roommate?
Do I knock? Do I just burst in? Besides trying to stifle it, a low groan escapes as I lay my forehead against the cheap wood.
What the hell am I even doing here?
Placing my hand on the door knob, my fingers are trembling violently, shaming me all to hell. This is a job for the cops, not for some twenty-year-old college kid, but calling the cops is not an option, especially after what happened the last time I called the police without a shred of proof and they treated me like I was insane. Nope, no way am I going through that again.
Swallowing hard with my resolve, I turn the knob and my heart does the freaking rhumba up my dry throat when the door creaks open. My teeth hurt and my jaw tightens in fear as I slowly slide the door open a fraction more before I take a hesitant step inside. My fraying nerves begin to ease when I see that the room is empty. I just hope the rest of the apartment is, too. So far, nothing looks out of the ordinary for a college kid. The living room is littered with pizza boxes, empty beer bottles, and what looks like a bong laying in the floor next to the couch. My breathing slowly returns to normal as I peek inside the kitchen, quickly backing out with the stench of ripened trash that should’ve been taken out a week ago assaulting my nose.
I’m getting ready to open the bedroom door when a shot of someone’s anger, and a heavy case of nerves, hits me right before a hand clamps over my mouth and an arm wraps around my waist, pinning me against someone hard and large. Stupidly, I try to scream even though I know it will be muffled.
“Shut-up,” a gruff voice demands, and I bite his hand in response.
“Owww, that fuckin’ hurt!” the voice barks as his arm squeezes my body tighter against his.
I elbow and twist wildly in response, trying to get a better read on his emotions while mine are drowning in fear.
“Take it easy,” he spits in between a few groans as my elbow makes contact.
I do the opposite and fight harder, giving all I’ve got. A sharp pain radiates through my right arm as he twists it behind me and pushes it up my back. My cry is stifled by his hand that he’s pressing against my mouth and nose, almost cutting off my air.
He starts dragging me out the back door and down the stairs, and I kick backwards, hitting his shin. A loud expletive leaves his mouth, and I’m rewarded with another sharp upward thrust of my arm, and I gasp in pain.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growls, “so stop fighting me!”
Is he out of his flippin’ mind?
I scream bloody murder as I see a dark gray van. My heart is beating so hard it hurts. Using all my strength, I struggle against the creep trying to kidnap me and throw my head back against his nose in a last ditch effort of escape.
“Sonofabitch!” he yells, but his grip never relents as he pushes me inside the van.
My body hits the metal floor as the door slams shut. Raw fear spirals through me as I try to squint through the dark. My emotions are heightened, clouding his, and I try to calm my panic. I let out an ear-piercing scream as I lunge for the door, but he blocks my path. Lashing out, I curl my fist and swing as hard as I can. My knuckles explode in pain when they crash into his jaw.
“Will you stop hitting me?” he yells, grabbing my arms and pushing me into a chair.
“Let me go!” I scream, kicking savagely.
“You can scream all you want; the van’s soundproof,” he states, his voice sounding as pissed as he feels. He straddles my lap, and I let out another loud wail. Slapping his hand over my mouth, he grabs duct tape, “On second thought, shut the hell up.” He keeps his left arm pressed roughly against my chest and arms as he holds the duct tape with his right hand, ripping two long pieces off with his teeth.
My eyes begin to acclimate to the dim lighting in the van and I can make out blue eyes and dark hair. I would think he was attractive if he wasn’t currently taping my wrists to a chair, getting ready to do God knows what to me. “Let me go, please,” I switch tactics.
“I need a few answers first, then we’ll see,” he states, pulling against the duct tape to make sure it’s secure.
“Answers?” My question comes out in a rush as I try to keep from hyperventilating when my wrists won’t even budge against my restraints. “I don’t know anything. Just let me go.”
He steps closer and I push back, causing an ear-splitting screech as the metal of the chair slides against the metal floor of the van. “Don’t touch me, asshole!” I warn, my anger rioting as I feel his burning through me.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he barks, looking like he’s about to bust a vein trying to keep from yelling at me. His eyes darken before he rakes a frustrated hand through his hair and grinds his jaw before speaking to me again, “I’m not the bad guy here.”
Glancing down at the duct tape currently pinning my wrists to the cold metal, I cut my eyes at him, flashing a sickeningly sweet sarcastic smile, “Oh, okay, I get it…so you’re supposed to be the good and cuddly kind of fucked-up, perverted bastard who likes to tie women to chairs, then.”
Whatever he’s getting ready to say is cut off when the door opens. The sun blinds me as it pours inside, and I open my mouth to scream but all air flees my lungs when I see him, the one person I ever trusted, ever loved; the one person who ever made me feel safe. For years, Jensen was my air. He was my redemption, my reason to take my next breath…then he was gone. He always told me I was strong, but I didn't believe him until I was forced to be strong on my own, and I kept breathing without him. I've taken forty-two million breaths since the moment he sent me away. Now, four years later, he's standing in front of me, and I can barely breathe. How is it possible that the one whose emotions I can’t feel is the one who makes me feel the most? That night four years ago sears my soul and the pain threatens to destroy me all over again.
Author of New Adult Romance who doesn't shy away from writing about sensitive issues and hot heroes.
Karen-Anne Stewart has always adored reading and has now fallen in love with writing. Her written works are The Rain Trilogy: Saving Rain, Healing Rain, and After the Rain, Ash to Steele, and her newly released paranormal romance novel, Feel. Her debut novel, Saving Rain: The First Novel in The Rain Trilogy, was a nominee for the Book Junkie’s Choice Awards, and Saving Rain and After the Rain were nominees for the 2014 RONE Awards.
When Karen-Anne isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, hiking, and visiting new places. She fuels her addiction of creating new stories by her only other addiction, caffeine, and listening to a myriad of musical genres. Tucked away near the Blue Ridge Mountains, Karen-Anne lives with her husband, daughter, three dogs, and their cat. She plans on writing new adult romance as long as her fingers maintain dexterity.