Forks, Book Two
Page 36
“No. But I wanted to,” he said with conviction.
Another tremor of unease coursed through me. “When did he… die?”
“After he hit the wall.”
I blinked stupidly. “But…”
“It’s not what you think. The EMT’s said he would have died anyway. That me pushing him only sped it along. I say good riddance.” He smiled brightly and the action lit his eyes.
Prickles rose on my skin. “Oh.” I knew I should be thankful but something just didn’t seem right. His story and his mannerisms were so…
I rubbed my head.
“You okay?”
“Sure. Where did Glinda go?” I changed the subject. I didn’t want to hear anymore about Kirk.
“She’s talking to your Mom with Peter.”
“My Mom?”
“She called her.”
“She what!”
“It’s fine,” he rushed to assure me. “She’s okay. Just worried.”
“Where’s Ken?”
“He’s with her.”
“Good. I don’t want Mom to be alone. She’d drive herself crazy with worry.”
“How did he find you?” Lucky asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I thought you said he was in Canada.”
“I guess he was but he said he had to come back. He told me he had unfinished business.”
“I guess I did everyone a favor. He sounds like a real whack job.”
“Yeah. I guess.” I should be happy that Kirk was gone but I wasn’t. I felt sad for him. Sad for his family…what a waste.
“Vincent was pretty freaked.”
Hearing his name brought me back from the black cloud of depression that was closing in on me. “Why?”
“Didn’t Glinda tell you?” He sounded surprised and that strange glimmer lit his eyes, again.
“Tell me what?” I had been so wrapped up in myself I kind of forgot about everyone else.
His expression became guarded. “I should let him tell you.”
My heart started beating crazily. The cold sweat was back and I found it hard to take a breath. “Tell me!” I grabbed his arm.
He got a freaked look on his face. “Amber, calm down.”
“Please, tell me,” I begged.
“Oh-kay.” He exhaled and pushed his hand through his hair. “But I would really prefer to wait.”
“Oh. My. God! Lucky, I swear if you don’t tell me, I’ll…”
His brow lifted and his face became guarded once more. “I’m not telling you anything until you calm down.”
Inhaling deeply, I got my ragged emotions under control. “Oh—kay. I’m better,” I lied. “Now, please tell me.”
“Well…” he paused. “ This is just something I heard. I didn’t see anything myself.”
“And…”
“It’s Viktor.”
The ringing was back in my ears. Lucky’s face blurred out of focus. “What about Viktor?”
“He’s …”
I jumped up. The blanket fell to the ground at my feet. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “I have to go. I have to go and talk to him. Where is he?”
Lucky shook his head, not sadly though. He seemed happy which couldn’t be right.
A sharp pain stabbed in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. “Where is he?”
“There was a…accident.”
“What are you saying? He was here.”
His brows creased. He gave me a sympathetic look, not like he felt sorry for me but like I was slow on the uptake. “I doubt that.”
“He brought me here,” I argued. “I was with him. But it was raining too hard. He had to park. He didn’t want me to get wet.” I was rambling. I couldn’t catch a breath. I felt trapped, like I was being crushed from the inside out as his words came back to me… ‘Don’t forget about me”...
A strange numbness enveloped me like a blanket, sliding over me little by little until I no longer felt the cold sweat or even the deep pain I had felt so intensely moments before. It was like my body was shutting down. “What did he do?”
“Amber…he’s …”
A roar rose above his voice. A high keening agonizing sound.
Time seemed to slow as I turned.
Lucky spun around—his inky black hair flew upward and out…reminding me of a wing—an angels wing.
A body hurled itself into Lucky with such force the momentum carried him back into the wall.
I felt the ground vibrate under my feet from the impact.
Lucky shoved Vincent back with such force his body lifted off the ground. “What the hell is wrong with you?” his voice sounded calm but his anger was palpable as he stood back up. His stance, defensive, rigid.
“What did you do?” Vincent’s chest was heaving, his face fierce. His anger barely contained. I never seen him looking so …wild.
“I saved her.” Lucky pointed at me.
Vincent turned his fierce gaze on me. His body still shook with anger. Then something changed, just a bit. His face crumbled and the pain I saw in his eyes was just as palpable as his anger had been but this was so much worse.
“Amber…” he said my name with such anguish... it was like a spear just pierced my heart.
“I have to ah…go.” I turned then. Away from Vincent. Away from Lucky. I walked out into the pouring rain, past the dark ambulance, past the costumed guests through the parking lot and down the barely visible path leading to First beach. Oblivious to the rain and wind, I kept going until I reached the water’s edge and only then did I stop.
I dropped down onto my knees and wrapped my arms around stomach, trying to keep myself from falling apart. But just the like darkness that had come to lay claim to me earlier—I found, that this too, was a losing battle.
epilogue
Time passes whether you want it to or not. It’s a constant that keeps moving even if you stay in one place. Just like the waves of the ocean, rolling in and out like a living breathing creature—in its own way, it too, counts time.
I didn’t want time to find me, but it did, whether I wanted it to or not. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered now. I was being a coward. I knew this but I didn’t want to face reality yet. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to see anyone. I only wanted time to stop or better yet, reverse, so I was back with Viktor, in his arms. But I couldn’t do that anymore than I could turn back the hands of time.
I felt numb now. Blessedly numb. And even though I didn’t know what precisely had happened tonight, the expression on Vincent’s face was all the affirmation I needed…that whatever it was, it was terrible and Viktor was…
I wouldn’t say it though. Because somehow, not saying it, made it less real. And if it wasn’t real, it couldn’t hurt me. Instead of facing my biggest fear, I shut my eyes and listened to the waves crashing…counting time.
Thank you for reading Forks, Book II!
For a sneak peek into Forks, Book III, keep reading
Forks, Book 3 Copyright © 2016 by A.E. Davis
“Amber…”
I was almost a hundred percent sure I was dreaming. I knew this because I could swear I heard Viktor’s melodic voice. I squeezed my eyes tighter, hoping to see his face too. I always saw him in my dreams, so why would this time be different …right?
Except, I wasn’t dreaming, I was hiding in my head, away from reality, away from the things that could hurt me most. Nightmares may scare you, but they couldn’t hurt you… reality did.
“Amber…”
There it was again—his beautiful voice.
“Great.” I shook my head. “Now I’m going crazy.” I fisted my hands over my eyes and hugged my legs tighter.
“Are you… crazy?” the soft melodic voice asked.
My body stiffened. Was that in my head? Granted, I had a lot of crazy dreams but not waking ones. Well, except that one time in my room…but not like this…
“Just a dream. A very lucid dream,” I tol
d myself. And even as I told myself this, I heard a movement to my left.
Preparing myself for the harsh reality that I could never really be prepared for…which was to see nothing…
I forced my eyes opened and lifted my head.
But that isn’t what I saw.
Someone was standing beside me. His face, even in the shadows of night, unmistakable. My heart stopped.
“Viktor?”
Dear Reader -
If you enjoyed Forks book 2, would you please consider leaving a review and letting others know why you enjoyed the book. It would mean a lot!
Thanks so Much!
A.E. Davis
Fun Fact: There really are stories about ghosts attaching themselves to you if you walk on sacred Indian ground.
So if I were you, I’d steer clear.
Just saying. ;)
PHOTO ALBUM
Clallam Bay
from the collection of Forks Timber Museum
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Clallam bay
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Clallam bay
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Forks Free Little Library
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Quileute Reservation
Tribal Cemetery
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new football field – GO SPARTANS!
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Before the fire
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About the Author
A.E. Davis lives in Forks, Washington.
Forks, is her debut novel.
To find out more visit her online:
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Twitter: @forks_davis
Email : a.e.daviswriter@gmail.com