Rise at Twilight

by Kayla Krantz

  With tears in her eyes, they looked enormous, and suddenly, she looked young, like a teenager again, and Chance had the fiercest need to hug her, to pull her close, and make all the demons in her head go away.

  It’s too bad I’m one of them, he mused.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered as he leaned over her to prop her pillows.

  Chance wiped his face of emotions again, biting on the inside of his lip to do so, as he eased her backward onto the bed and pulled the blanket over her hips. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he assured her, ignoring the way she looked at her bound wrists.

  “But you used to be.”

  Chance swallowed, glad she was too busy staring at her wrists to look at him. “Believe it or not, I just want what’s best for you. That’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  She turned to look up at him then, eyes still wide with a sheen of glittering tears. “If that was the truth then you’d let me go.”

  He stared back, speechless and wounded, but couldn’t think of a response. Luna opened her mouth, as if she was about to say more, but Chance couldn’t bear the thought. He turned away, hurrying to the door like his pants were on fire, locking it behind him with a click before he closed his eyes and slumped against the wall.

  I’m doing this for her, he told himself, banging the back of his head against the wall, softly at first, but harder as the thought sunk in.

  Am I really?

  “Please don’t hurt me.” Her soft broken voice floated through his mind, and he bowed his head, letting himself cry. At this point, it didn’t matter if he ever hurt her again. The damage he had already inflicted would never go away, not really, and he only had himself to blame.

  Swallowing, he breathed out and reached up to wipe his face, mad at himself for the emotion. What was the point of having magic if he couldn’t stop himself from hurting? If he couldn’t stop anyone from hurting? Slowly, he stood up and pressed his ear to the door. Luna was crying again—her hysterical sobs and screams familiar.

  He wondered what she was thinking about, what she considered the worst part of her situation to be. Chance didn’t know how long he paced outside the door, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. While he prided himself on being adaptable, he could sense something would happen soon that would change things, something he couldn’t accept, and wondered if it had to do with Cody.

  Again, he wondered what the boy could want with her, and in his agony, considered paying him a visit to find out. If something happens to you, there’s no one to protect her, he reminded himself and began to pace again, listening to Luna’s hysterical cries as they died down to a sob then a hiccup and finally stopped altogether.

  He imagined her to be asleep but feared opening the door in case she wasn’t. He didn’t think he could handle another interaction with her in the state of mind she was in…not to mention how emotionally shot he was. Exhausted, Chance ruffled his hair, sighed, and made his way to the front room. He plopped into the nearest chair, staring at the skull perched on the windowsill.

  In his mind, the skull frowned with concern, the only companion he had who actually cared about what he was feeling, who actually wanted to make it better. You can fix this, it tried to tell him.

  He looked away, ignoring it completely. There wasn’t part of him that believed that anymore. He knew what was coming, what their future would be. Luna wanted to leave…who was he kidding, she planned on it. The moment she found out there might be a chance of redemption for her loved ones, she stopped thinking of him—if she even had in the first place. Old habits die hard, he thought, remembering back to when he had told Luna that line, shortly before he had ended his life.

  Chance frowned, reaching up to rub his temples. Doubt wasn’t something he was familiar with, and he hated it. Hated more that they didn’t feel like doubts so much as an accurate summary. He had had her completely tied around his little finger at one point but had managed to fuck it up.

  Just like everything else in my life.

  He tilted his head, jaw clenched. The ancient smile plastered to the skull’s face seemed directed at him, and in his state of paranoia, it worked to further fuel his anger. Why are you letting her get the better of you? the skull asked.

  “I’m not,” he growled at it.

  Could’ve fooled me. Look at you, all torn up over a girl. It’s embarrassing!

  “What do you know?” he asked, slamming his fist to the table. “Huh?”

  I know that I’m not the one crying over a situation instead of handling it like a man.

  Chance gritted his teeth, standing up to storm over to the skull before he stopped himself. This isn’t helping anything, he told himself and turned away.

  Something the matter? the skull taunted behind him, but he was past wanting to fight it as he stared down the hall.

  The two options before him were no different from the two he had always had when it came to Luna—let her go or force her to stay with him. As much as he wished for the third option, Luna wanting to stay, he wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t going to happen.

  Things had seemed just too perfect—at least to him—and he was mad at himself for not planning ahead, for letting it come to this. He wasn’t often caught off guard, but there was something about Luna that brought it out of him, always had been, and he hated it. In some strange way, she was the only one he could connect with, the only one he felt comfortable enough with to be himself.

  He couldn’t lose that…couldn’t lose her…not now.

  With determination, he bolted from his seat, leaving the foyer in long strides to go to his torture room. He thought of the girl Luna had let go, thought of how different his night was going from what he had planned, and that was enough to push him onward. He did anything Luna asked, and she couldn’t do the same for him? Not even once.

  She’s a selfish bitch, he told himself, studying the dried blood on the floor.

  Steps slowing to study the carnage, he went to the corner where a pile of the girl’s belongings were scattered, and dropped down to one knee, picking up a thin silver ring. Chance brought it up to his eye, satisfied by its simplicity.

  Maybe stopping Luna from leaving would be inevitable, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have a plan when she did.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  WHEN AMANDA HAD been young, she had been Christian. She remembered that clearly, going to church two times a week and reading the bible. If she wanted to, there were passages she could still quote by heart, but after the accident with Seth, Amanda’s mother had stopped going, had stopped making her go, and everything had changed.

  As Amanda stood at the mouth of the cave, she started to wonder if there was really one God after all. She thought of the Voice that had brought her here, the one promising redemption, and wondered if maybe she couldn’t have it. After all, nowhere in the bible did it say anything about challenges and rough patches in the afterlife.

  It was supposed to be freedom and happiness, not struggles and redemption.

  Amanda adjusted the strap of the backpack, the weight cutting into her skin, and studied the mouth of the cave. The last thing she wanted to do was step inside. She didn’t know what creatures lived in it, if any, and she knew it would be cold, dark, and uncomfortable. That was the reason she had chosen this spot to begin with. No other person would willingly come here.

  At least she hoped not anyway.

  At her side, Lucky let out a little whine, her ears pressed flat to her skull. She could sense Amanda’s hesitation, sense that something wasn’t quite right, and wasn’t eager to venture inside either. Letting out a tiny sigh, Amanda led the way up to the blackness, taking one step across the grassy surface and onto the stone, before she turned to look at Lucky.

  “Come on, Girl,” she said to the dog.

  Lucky barked, a loud excited sound, and kneaded her paws into the ground beneath her, but she didn’t venture forward like she usually did. She would not approach the cave.

  T
hat can’t be a good sign, Amanda thought, but part of her was past being logical. She was frustrated—frustrated that she was here, frustrated that this was what her life had become.

  “Fine, don’t come,” she said to Lucky. “Go check on the house. See if the coast is clear, and if it is, bring me some more blankets.”

  Lucky barked again and took off in the opposite direction, running faster than Amanda had ever seen her move before. Jealousy sparked through Amanda as she watched the dog. She wished she could just run away from everything too. With a sideways glance back toward the cave, she frowned. That was what she was doing.

  Groaning, she let the bag slip from her shoulders and rummaged through the contents. She had a tiny candle and a matchbox. Quickly, she lit the candle and put her bag back on her shoulder before she traveled deeper into the cave. After Lucky’s reaction, she expected a monster to jump out of the shadows at any moment. Her hand hovered above her pocket where she kept a tactical blade hidden, but nothing and no one appeared.

  Deeper in the cave, the air grew stale and musty. Instantly, Amanda’s nose crinkled, but she forced herself to keep going. After all, if she was going to call this place home, she would have to explore every inch of what it had to offer.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  LUNA WOKE IN the morning, the searing pain in the center of her head enough for her to know she had been crying…but why?

  Hazy memories swam in her foggy brain. Scrunching her face, she sat up and that’s when she realized her hands were tied together. Panic shot through her, waking her better than any caffeine, and she tugged at her wrists, trying to break the binds but hardly did them any damage. Her heart beat in her chest as she looked around, mind uncertain about what was happening, about where she was, about who she was.

  Luna glanced at the door—closed, and as she presumed, locked—and the fact that she couldn’t tell what reality she was in scared her more than the binds. For a heart stopping second, she assumed she was back in high school, the past four years of her life nothing but one of Chance’s twisted dreams. She hurried to lift her shirt to see the wound in her stomach, but it was healed.

  This doesn’t make any sense.

  She crinkled her nose and stood to her feet, looking around the room for possible clues when the door rumbled open. Chance appeared in the doorway, and Luna plopped back down on the edge of the bed, slightly relieved to see him. He was older than he had been when he kidnapped her, evident by his hardened jawline and slight stubble on his chin. Like a bolt from the blue, memories from the night before coursed through her, and she tensed. The image of Chance slowly shoving the dagger into the girl’s skin was stuck in her mind.

  The way he had grinned about her deathly wails with her blood painted over his face.

  Even for everything I’ve done, I’ve never been that cruel. I’ve never enjoyed the pain I caused, she thought and no longer felt the relief that had coursed through her the previous moment.

  It wasn’t the idea of what he had done that rattled her—it was far from a surprise that he was a monster—but it was different seeing it in action compared to seeing the end result. It brought back her own memories…Chance humming after killing Violet, sneering about stabbing Luna while she had been in agony, and making jokes about burning Susan’s body.

  It had been easy to forget what he was capable of with the years that had followed enabling her to bury the most painful of her memories deep in her subconscious. Now, she hated herself for doing so, for ever erasing her brain of those traumatic memories. Sure, it might’ve made living easier for a while, but that wasn’t worth losing her fire, losing herself.

  Seeing what he could do had rattled it all loose and reminded her that she needed to get away, to get back to the people she had once fought beside, and for that fact alone, she was grateful.

  “Chance,” she greeted.

  He stared at her but kept his distance. Luna had never seen such a look of despair on his face before he drew his eyebrows together and paced toward the bed, sitting beside her. He stayed silent a moment longer, staring at the wall beside the door he had just come through before he finally asked, “What do you remember?”

  “I-you…the torture room…” Luna shivered, suddenly finding it hard to look at him. He had carefully cleaned himself up before coming to see her, but it didn’t matter. She could see the blood on his skin just the same. The way he avoided eye contact made her sure he knew. Luna’s eyes ran to the all-too-familiar binds on her wrists, and she held them up for him to see. “Why am I tied up?”

  He sighed through his teeth and gestured to her to give him her hands. She obeyed, and he quickly untied her, frowning as he caught sight of the red chafe marks in her skin—just like those he had left on her in high school.

  “You went into hysterics, a full breakdown I think, and ran into the woods. I worried you’d have another incident so I stopped you.”

  “Why not give me my space?”

  “It couldn’t be spared. Not when your mind was so off balance,” he said, standing up.

  Luna frowned at the back of his head. “And this solution makes sense to you as a cure for a mental breakdown?”

  “Not a cure,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I merely did what I had to do.”

  “Sure,” Luna said and rubbed her sore skin. As her fingers twisted around her delicate wrist, she caught sight of the ring on her finger, and a shiver of dread raced down her spine. Instantly, she reached out to grab his wrist and he looked at her, eyes shining. “Why am I wearing this?”

  Chance blinked, offering no solution.

  “Why…am…I…wearing…this?” she asked again.

  He blinked again, and she frowned, letting go of him to pull the silver band off her finger. It wouldn’t budge, and she let go of him. Her movements became frantic as panic bit at her, urging her to claw into her finger in her fruitless efforts. Only when she began to draw blood she asked, “Why is it not coming off? What is this?”

  “What do you think it is?” Chance replied, voice calm as he crouched in front of her and set his hand on hers to stop her frantic scratching.

  “It looks like an engagement ring.”

  The air left Chance’s lungs at her words. He hadn’t thought of the ring in that manner and wondered why she did. While he wanted to tell her about the true purpose of the ring—a tracking device he had installed under the gem—his curiosity won out. If there was one thing, he had taught himself about social interactions, it was to go with the flow.

  “What if it is? We’re practically bound to each other at this point anyway. I figured, why not make it official?” he said with a haughty lift of his chin to hide his moment of surprised indecision.

  “It’s just…I…” Luna trailed off, eyes still on the ring.

  No words seemed appropriate to describe the hurricane of emotions inside of her.

  Chance felt the sting of her hesitation even though he knew he shouldn’t. Marriage hadn’t been the true purpose behind his actions so it didn’t matter, not really, except out of all the things he could cope with, rejection was not one of them. Especially not from her.

  Before he could put a lid on his rage, he curled his lip at her. “What? Worried what Max might think of it? Or your parents? A little late for that, love, wouldn’t you say?”

  Luna’s shoulders drooped, and Chance had a small moment of regret before she growled and smacked his hand away. “And that’s supposed to help me accept this? What if I don’t want to marry you? What if I want to get far, far away and never come back?”

  “Hasn’t that always been the case?”

  Luna set her jaw.

  “You knew sooner or later it would come down to this. Why fight? What good does your pride do you anymore?”

  Luna let out a breath of air and licked her teeth. “We’re just never gonna talk about it?”

  “About what?”

  “About us? About all the awful things you’ve done to me? We’re just g
onna act like things are just fine and dandy? That I should be happy to marry you?”

  Chance shrugged. “All couples fight. It’s normal.”

  “This is not normal. We are not a couple!”

  Chance’s eyes narrowed, her words obviously striking a nerve. “People find each other in many different ways so who’s to say this isn’t how our lives were supposed to go? We would’ve never crossed paths if we weren’t meant to be in each other’s lives.”

  “We crossed paths with all of our classmates, does that mean we should do something similar to them just because they were in the same place?”

  “Those assholes? Of course not.”

  Luna wanted to tear her hair out. There was no way to reason with blatant insanity, but she didn’t want to just give up either. Not now, not when her whole world felt ready to implode. “To you that’s what we are…normal?”

  “Try thinking about it the way I’ve been handling life for years—you fake it and eventually, it just might start to feel real.”

  Luna chuckled bitterly, feeling the tears in the corners of her eyes. “You ask me why I keep fighting, but why do you continue to do this? To try to force me to be with you? Y-you love me? You want to keep me safe? Is that it? Is that why you’re doing this?” she demanded, flashing the ring. “No other reason? Nothing else I should know about? If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you do things only for yourself. You try to make your motives seem one-dimensional, but that’s never the case. There’s always, always, always, more to the story.”

  Chance glared at her. “Why is it so hard to believe that I want what’s best for you after the way I’ve taken care of you…protected you?”

  It was hard for Luna to pick her jaw up off the floor. “That’s what you think you did…kept me safe? Did you forget how you tortured me…and killed me…both inside and out.”

  Chance breathed out slowly through his nose. “I understand that this is a big adjustment. It is for both of us, if you care to know. But you have to let go of the past. You forced my hand all those years, Luna. I never wanted to hurt you.”