Amaranth - By Rachael Wade Page 0,5
“I don’t know why you fight it darlin’, you know you’re all talk.” His whisper trailed off as his sinister smile widened. “We both know you’ll never be strong enough.”
Nausea overwhelmed me when he rubbed his hand on my arm, giving me goose bumps. My body flinched with disgust.
His prisoner, I fought the impending paralysis and blinked my eyes, stretched my fingers outward, reminding them of their function. There were people all around who could see this. I was safe. He wouldn’t be so stupid. Not here. A thousand creeping anxieties scattered through my consciousness.
“Nothing is going on this weekend, Andrew. And we both know that you are going to stay away from me.” I gritted my teeth, glancing left and right to make sure we weren’t making a scene. “I am strong enough. I’ve changed, and I don’t care if you believe that or not--”
He grasped my arm, leaning in to speak directly in my ear. His smoky green eyes bored into mine, appraising me. “Oh, I do believe you’ve changed darlin’. I believe you’re more afraid now than you have ever been. And that fear inhibits your ability to be strong, sweetheart. Whether you believe that or not.”
He let my arm go abruptly and kissed my forehead before he turned to walk away. I shuddered at the touch of his lips on my skin.
“I’ll pick you up at six on Sunday, then.” He didn’t bother turning back to look at me. “Oh -- not this weekend, though. Next weekend. This weekend I’ll be out of town, have some things to take care of.” He pivoted his head around, winking at me. “You be good while I’m gone, now.”
Strolling out the front door, he left me like wounded prey to awaiting predators, hungry and ready to pounce. Shaken, I darted for the back of the store, hoping my coworkers wouldn’t notice. I had to get outside and breathe. I needed to be alone before I started breaking down, before my mind went to war with the intrusive, unwelcome hunters in my head.
I stepped out the back door from the inventory room and leaned up against the sun-heated concrete wall, tilting my head back, closing my eyes while I slid down the wall and landed with my knees up, sobbing. He would never let me go from this personal hell I created for myself. He would never let me free from the guilt and shame that consumed me for letting him into my life. He was the first person to befriend me when I moved here, someone I felt genuinely comfortable with.
I exhaled, shaking my head at my ridiculous, contradictory thoughts. How could I have had such poor judgment? The answer was clear despite my fragmented feelings. I asked myself this same question every single day, and after the spectacle he just pulled, I had to be honest with myself. A year and a half ago, he helped fill a void. But now my weakness was returning to haunt me in the very place I ran to, the place I came to give myself a new beginning.
I sat on the concrete, fighting the war raging inside my head, knowing Carol could come barging out here any second to fire me. But I couldn’t think about her or my job right now. The only thoughts I had were of my trip to Paris, how invigorated I felt there. And how free. How liberated I’d felt by myself, halfway across the world in a different country, a different culture, fully separate from everything back home that bound me to my past. No one knew me, and there was nothing in the city to remind me of anything familiar. I remembered imagining it must be what being reborn felt like, being able to assign new memories to the places and faces I encountered.
I’d come to Louisiana to make a future. I met him. Even if I failed, I must try to get away from him. It will never happen, unless ...
I knew I had to turn him in, get help. Get a restraining order. Something. Anything. I pulled the new spells from my pocket to stare at them. I had to get to the conjure shop fast and get the supplies I needed, before Audrey arrived.
Audrey. How was I going to keep all of this from her?
Somehow, I just would. I shot up from the ground, my heart pounding through my chest, whisked hair away from my face, angrily scrubbed tears from my