Blue Horizons (A Horizons Novel Book 1) (13 page)

“Chris! Stop!” He does, and wobbly, I push up off the ground to face him.

His eyes scan over me from head to toe and then come back to my face. He leans over until we are only inches apart and his eyes lock onto mine. Through the rain, there’s no mistaking how dark his eyes have become. Countless hours I have stared into his warm brown eyes, but now all I see is darkness and rage. “Get your keys out and open the damn door,” he spits. Blood drains from my face, and with it my body cowers before him.

He shoves my purse in my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. I must have dropped it on the way to the door. Quickly, I fumble through the pockets and make the mistake of sniffing, alerting him to the tears.

“Are you crying?” he jerks on my arm so I’m facing him again, my skin pinched under his fingers. His eyes narrow and his jaw tics.

“It hurts.” I don’t want to sound weak—I don’t want to
be
weak—but I’m terrified of him and what’s to come once we go inside.

“Well, it’s your fault. Stop fighting me. Do as you’re told. Open the damn door!” He twists his wrist, twisting my arm, and I cry out in pain. Shouldn’t it have broken by now? He shoves me forward and my face hits the door. Stars float in front of me and my stomach turns over. Dinner and every drop of bile comes rushing to the top, and I vomit all over the door.

“What the fuck?” Chris jumps backward, and I lean against the house to make everything stop spinning. Rain pours down over me. It washes away any evidence that he and I have on the front porch and chills my stinging skin.

Desperation and panic consume me. I have to get in the house and I have to get away from him.

Pulling the keys, I stick them in the lock and pause. This is my chance; it’s now or never. I turn to face him, and using my hurt leg, I shove my knee so far up into his crotch I hope his balls end up in his stomach. His face contorts as he bends over and cries out in pain. Using all the strength I have in me, I shove him backward so he falls down the steps.

Not wasting one second, I unlock the door, slip inside, and slam it shut. Twisting the lock back in place, I’m frozen as I stare at the only thing separating me from him.

The silence inside the house is a complete contrast to the sounds outside. Instantly gone are the rain and the wind, only to be replaced by the ticking of the grandfather clock and the ringing in my ears.

Taking a step backward, I slip further into the darkness of the hallway. My eyes never leaving the door. My heartbeat is erratic, my chest so tight I can hardly breathe, and I just want this to all be over.

BANG!

The door rattles on its hinges and shrill screams leave my throat.

“Av! Open the door!” His foot kicks the door repeatedly, and I take a few steps further away.

“If you don’t open this door right this minute, things will be so much worse for you!”

I can’t help but think, how could they possibly be worse? And then there’s the silence.

Is he leaving? Is he finding another way in? What’s he doing? My eyes dart to the windows, but there’s no movement. I also don’t hear the engine of his car.

I take a few more steps back and my hip bumps into the hall console table. Grabbing on to it for support, my entire body starts shaking.

Echoing through the darkness, I hear the familiar sound of a key sliding in the lock.

Oh no! I forgot about the hide-a-key!

My head swings to the front door just as the handle turns and the hinges creak upon its opening. There, standing in the darkened hallway, staring at the entryway and into the faint light shining in from the outside, is the blackened silhouette of my worst fears come true.

Fear turns to sheer terror. It blankets me with a weight that is suffocating and I’m frozen to the spot. My skin begins to prickle as awareness sets in. He will most likely catch me, but I can’t stand here and do nothing, I have to run.

Turning, as fast as I can, I limp-run down the hallway. Digging through my purse again, my fingers wrap around my cell phone. Yanking it out, I swipe it on to unlock the screen and pull up my favorites list. The pounding of the blood in my ears is so loud, it’s completely shut off all the noise surrounding me, leaving only the sense of touch and feel. The sensory for vibration is burning up my legs as I can feel the pounding of his shoes ricocheting across the wood floors—straight to me. Touch is that one sense you can’t turn off. I can close my eyes, shut my mouth, cover my ears, and clog my nose, but nothing can separate touch.

One one-thousand.
Oh God, he’s going to catch me.

Two one-thousand.
What’s he going to do to me?

Three one-thousand.
Why doesn’t he love me anymore?

SLAM!

His hands make contact with my back and I know it’s over. He’s caught me and there’s nothing I can do to escape him.

Falling.

Falling.

Down.

My body strikes the ground and I cry out in pain. His knee jams into my back to hold me in place, as one hand wraps around the back of my neck keeping my head shoved into the floor, and his other punches the wood directly in front of my face. Four times. Four times I think it’s going to be me, four times I wince from the closeness of the impact, and four times I fear what he is going to hit next.

Leaning over, his nose and then his lips rub against my ear. His breathing is labored, but his words are not.

“I’m so mad, I just might kill you.”

His voice lingers in the hallway, taunting me, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Tears roll down the side of my face and I think, “If I don’t see what he’s about to do to me, then I can’t see that memory, and seeing nothing is better than something” My mind closes off and my heart locks down. This can’t last forever, right?

Chris is talking to me. His mouth is moving next to my ear and his hot breath is fanning over my face. Desperately I want to move away from him, but I can’t. The voice returns, I hear it, but something is off. It’s not his. This voice sounds almost panicked, and Chris is never panicked. Yes, he’s impulsive, but he almost always stays calm, even in a rage. Focusing on the voice, it gets louder and louder. Slowly, the surrounding noises return and take over the thrumming in my ears. My chest aches, I can’t breathe, and I don’t know what happened. A finger touches my chin and that’s when I hear him.

“Ava! Open your eyes and look at me!” My eyes flash open and stare into the most soothing shade of blue. I know those eyes. Those eyes are kind and at the moment show only complete concern. He waves his fingers back and forth between the two of us, and if I could, I would stare into these eyes forever.

“Breathe with me.” Ash is lying in the damp grass and dirt, his face next to mine, but he’s not touching me. Obeying, I follow his breathing, and that’s when I realize there’s no one here but us and a large black and tan dog standing over us, panting. That’s what I felt in my ear, not Chris. I haven’t been caught, he’s not here to hurt me, it’s all going to be okay. Relief floods through me, and more tears drip down the side of my face.

“I need you to tell me what hurts,” his voice is calm but laced with concern.

My eyebrows pull in because I am not sure why he’s asking me this. These tears are out of relief not pain. Chris isn’t here and he didn’t get me . . . and that’s when I feel the shooting pain up my arm. The pain is so fierce, I gasp and immediately know something is broken. Rolling further into the dirt, I want to escape his handsome face. I really don’t want him to see me like this.

“Ava, please look at me.” His voice is so kind and warm, it vibrates throughout my heart. Along with those blue eyes, I think I could listen to him as well as look at him forever.

“I am so sorry,” he says and I peek back over at him.

“What happened? Were you chasing me?” I can’t imagine that he would’ve been, but maybe. With the earbuds in, I never would have heard him call out to me.

“No, but Whiskey loves to play chase, and I yelled for you to stop, but I don’t think you heard me.” At the sound of his name, the dog leans down and nudges Ash’s head, pushing him a little closer to me.

“Whiskey. That’s his name?” The dog whines and then lays his head down on Ash’s arm, looking at me.

“Yeah. Clay and I found him behind a bar called Whiskey’s last year.” Silence surrounds us as I roll onto my side to face him. Worry is etched into the lines of his face.

His face.

The uneasiness in my stomach changes and is replaced by nervous flutters. He’s so close to me I can feel the warmth of his body as it closes the distance between us. The stubble on his chin is longer than it was yesterday and I like it. His head is covered with a gray beanie leaving only little pieces of his hair sticking out, and there are little freckles under his eyes, making them even bluer than they already are.

“Can you tell me what hurts?” he asks again.

“I think it’s my arm, or maybe my hand. I don’t know. It all hurts.” I shift to my back, clutching my arm to my chest. The pain has started to throb and I know this is not good. He sits up next to me, holds his hand out in front of me so I can see what he’s doing, and then slowly pulls my uninjured hand away.

Leaning over, but never moving it, he examines my hand, wrist, and arm. The palm side of my arm is facing up and very tenderly he traces the piano keys I have tattooed across my wrist. “I think it’s your wrist. It’s already swelling and turning purple.”

My wrist. Oh no . . .

Reality slams into me. The panic and fear, the adrenaline and the pain. The shaking returns and I just give up. I start openly crying in front of this gorgeous guy and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Oh, Ava, I am so sorry. This is my fault.” His voice is hoarse and laced with remorse. I glance at him and he looks so distraught. He pulls the hat off his head and runs his hand through his hair.

“Do you want me to call someone? Emma?” His eyes are pleading for me to tell him what to do.

I shake my head no.

“Well, I think you should have this looked at. My house is right there.” He points to the house that’s up the trail next to us. “Let’s go get you a little cleaned up and then I’ll take you to a doctor. There’s a twenty-four-hour urgent care just on the other side of town. I think that will be quicker than driving you to Asheville to the hospital.”

He’s right, it needs to be looked at, and it’s best that I know what’s wrong before I send people into panic mode.

“Okay.” He scoots away from me just a little so I can sit up. Showing me his hand again, he slowly moves it to push my hair back off my face. It’s not lost on me how considerate he is in the way he handles me. Showing me his hands each time he goes to touch me, allowing me to feel and react first—no one has ever done this.

“I think if it’s just sprained, they’ll wrap it, and if it’s broken, they’ll still wrap it and send you to an orthopedic tomorrow.”

He’s right, I know he is, but I’m devastated this is happening to me. I was so happy last night and this morning, just thinking about him and how he gave me his phone number, and now this happens. Am I ever going to have a normal interaction with him that doesn’t involve me falling apart like a basketcase? My arm hurts, my heart hurts . . . this just sucks.

Ash stands and holds his hand out to me. Placing my good hand in his, he gently pulls me up off the ground and into him. My forehead falls onto his chest, and I moan out in pain, hugging my arm closer to me. Gently, he wraps his arms around me, and now twice this weekend I’ve found myself tucked up under his chin. Although neither time was for amorous reasons, right now, I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.

“Hey.” His hand wraps around the side of my head and he tilts it backward. His beautiful blue eyes roam my face, and very softly with his thumb, he begins to wipe away the dirt and grass.

Everything about this moment is overwhelming me and I begin to shiver. His hand drops to my shoulder as his other pulls on my hip to steady me against him. I take a deep breath and the smell of him fills my mind. I commit it to memory thinking he smells better than anything, ever. As his eyes stay focused on mine, his face changes from one of sympathy to complete seriousness. His gaze is so intense and piercing that I can’t look at anything else. His hand moves back to my face and his thumb rubs across my bottom lip as he lets out a deep sigh.

“Come on, darlin’, let’s go get you checked out.” He moves to wrap one arm around my shoulders, keeping me close, and together we walk back toward his house.