“I’ve got my eyes peeled.”
I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about Ella. She’s strong and can pretty much take care of herself, but there’s no telling what that crazy bitch will do.
I make a mental to note to put a word out on the street that if anyone fucks with Ella, the consequences will be harsh. People already know my reputation and that extends to my family, but if I put out a warning specifically aimed toward Cora or anyone pertaining to Cora, the word will spread fast, and I know she’ll hear it. I just hope she’s smart enough to heed it.
I pull up my playlist, press play, grab a fresh pair of gloves, and get back to work on Kyle’s tattoo.
CHAPTER TWO
Luca
I’M AT ONE OF THE places I come to when I need a break from the daily bullshit of my life. I sit on the edge of the bluff, one knee bent with my arm draped over it, my other leg hanging over the side. I look out across the abyss before me, taking in all that is Silver Hill. It’s amazing, the difference between the left and the right. One side holds the riches of Silver Hill, while the other carries the dirt-poor and desperate. It literally splits down the middle. Where I sit on the cliff, it looks like I’m balancing between the two. I’m not, and never will be. I’ll always belong to the barren and crummy side, even if Ink Me is doing well enough I could afford the finer things in life.
I lie back against the hard gravel and stare up at the bright sky, tucking my hands behind my head. Silver Landing, a name the people of Silver Hill have dubbed the bluff, is the one place where the two sides come to socialize. Both rich and poor teenagers come up here on weekends to satisfy their twisted need to mix with the others. I came up here a few times during the nightly get-togethers just out of curiosity, but it was never my thing. Instead, I preferred to come during the day when no one was around to bother me.
I close my eyes and enjoy the fresh air as it passes through my lungs. I frown as something sweet intermingles with the woodsy scent.
Wildflowers.
That’s the only word that comes to mind for the smell. It shouldn’t be here because there’re no wildflowers around. All that’s here is gravel and dirt and patches of dried grass. The smell is beautiful, which contrasts with my surroundings.
The bright light from the sun through my closed eyes dims, and I slowly open them. They widen when I see something hovering over me. Not something, but someone. A woman. A woman with brunette hair that floats around her. Her eyes, the color of bright amber, stare at me dolefully.
She’s about five feet above me, her body longways to match my horizontal position. She seems to be in a spectral form. She’s in front of me but not fully there. Her white sleeveless dress drifts around her legs.
She’s pretty. No, not pretty. Devastatingly gorgeous.
Not understanding why I do it, I lazily smile up at her. She smiles back, but it fades seconds later, and her eyes take on a dead look. The first sharp stab pierces my chest, and I suck in a breath at the sudden pain.
“Where are you, Luca?” the woman whispers, her lips barely moving. “I’m waiting for you.”
Her hand reaching toward me and the desperate pleading in her eyes paralyze me. I want to reach out and grasp her, to pull her to me and demand she tell me what’s wrong, but for some reason I can’t. I’m frozen; the only part of my body moving is my chest as I breathe heavily.
My jaw clenches as I strain my muscles, trying to get them to move, but no matter how hard I internally push myself, nothing fucking happens.
What in the ever-lovin’ hell?
“Tell me your name,” I force out through gritted teeth. Even moving my lips is strenuous, but something tells me I need to know her name.
Instead of answering me, her arm goes back to her side. Tears glisten in her eyes and her expression turns sad once again.
A second stinging pain lances my chest, and I flinch.
“I need you. Please, please, help me.”
I try again to lift my arm but get nowhere.
“I don’t understand.” The growled words rumble from my tight throat. “How do I help you?”
She stays silent as she looks at me with her solemn golden eyes.
Her body inches closer to me, and I know if she were to reach out now, she’d be able to touch me. I wish she would. I don’t understand why I have this need, but there’s a strong desire to have some part of her touch some part of me.
All I can do is lie there and look at her as she gets closer and closer. Her wraithlike appearance allows me to see the trees above us through her body, but as she draws nearer, her features become more clear. She has a small scattering of freckles across her cheeks. One in particular stands out more than the others because it’s bigger and is just below the corner of her right eye. She also has the beginning of small indents in her cheeks that suggests dimples if she were to smile.
My body tenses even further when she doesn’t stop and keeps floating toward me. Her eyes don’t change, and she doesn’t try to touch me. She’s only inches from me now, and my chest tightens the closer she gets.
She’s so close I can see black specks in her eyes mixing in with the pretty golden amber.
Painful breath rushes from my lungs when she all of a sudden closes her eyes and an agonizing scream escapes her lips. Not a second later, she bursts into a thousand tiny flashes of bright light, her scream still echoing around me. The small fragments fall, and it’s like some magnetic force inside me is drawing them into my body. Each piece that penetrates is more excruciating than the last.
I WAKE WITH A jerk, my eyes flying wide open as I sit up in bed. I clutch my chest as searing pain crushes my lungs. I pull in deep breaths, trying to push the discomfort away. It’s fake, leftover fragments from the pain in my dream. It has to be.
I toss the covers aside and climb from the bed. Stalking toward the bathroom, I stumble a few steps, my equilibrium off.
“Fuckin’ hell,” I mutter as the bright light of the bathroom stabs at my aching head.
I walk to the sink, turn on the tap, and splash cold water on my face. Lifting my head, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes stare back at me. I have rings under my eyes, and my black hair looks fucking wild.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and memories of the dream rush behind my closed lids.
When the dreams started back up again a couple months ago, they were different than the ones I had before. The woman was always the same and so was the dark setting with the tiny sparks of light. She never spoke, but I always felt her eyes on me.
This dream was even more different. It was outside in the broad light of day. In a place I know well. What that means, I have no idea. I just wish it would stop.
I used to only have one every couple of months, but since they returned, I have them several times a week. Before tonight, my last one was two nights ago. It’s fucking with my sleep, meaning, I’m not getting much, and it pisses me off.
Why can’t she just tell me what in the fuck she wants from me? Even if she only needs help in my dream and she’s not out there somewhere powerless and in dire need, she could at least tell me what in the hell she needs me to do.
I push away from the sink, start the shower, and don’t wait for the spray to warm before I step inside. The cold water hits my sweaty body. Bowing my head, I step under the showerhead until the water meets my shoulders. The cold distracts me from the haunted amber eyes and my unanswered questions.