Midnight Rose

by Dani Hart

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Midnight Rose

  Copyright Dani Hart

  Cover Design and Interior Formatting by Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook ISBN:

  ISBN-10: 0-9916012-6-2

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9916012-6-4

  I want to dedicate this book to everyone out there who has ever

  been afraid to follow their hearts and chase their dreams.

  The only one who can make you feel like a failure is you.

  THE EARLY MORNING sun warmed my pale cheeks as I stood in front of my open window. Summer break was officially ending, and I longed to soak in the last few days of freedom. Pounding footsteps drew my attention to the driveway where my best friend, Kendra, was jogging up, huffing and puffing dramatically. By the time she reached the house, I was in absolute hysterics.

  “How…can…you…laugh at me…in this…state?” She stopped just below my window. Her hands were gripping tightly around her bony hips, and her head hung between her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

  Still smiling wildly at her expense, I pulled my long hair up into a knot, catching every chestnut strand, and wrapped a hairband tightly around it. “Come on, Kendra. You’re building character.”

  “Abby, I barely know how to put one foot in front of the other quick enough to make actual strides, let alone build character.”

  Stress creased her forehead as her lungs expanded and contracted quickly. “I think…I’m having a heart attack,” she choked on her words. “One more month, Abby. One more month.”

  Kendra had failed her driver’s test three times, so her mom made her wait six months until she could take it again. To build character.

  “What are you waiting for? Me to let down my hair? Come in,” I teased.

  True friends were hard to come by in high school. The slightest things made you an outsider, but nothing would ever come between our friendship. She moved here just in time to save me from drowning in a thick sea of depression. We were one in the same in so many ways. We were seventeen, neither of us had ever been on a date, and we spent most of our time watching old movies. I had become accustomed to being alone before I met Kendra. I even liked it, but it was nice having someone again.

  My dad traveled quite a bit for business, and my mom kept herself busy with her knitting club. I didn’t know something like a knitting club even existed, but it did, and my mom filled my closet with a plethora of proof, not that any made it out of the house.

  “I’m still perfecting my technique, sweetie,” my mom would say each time she presented me with one of her latest creations. She raised my uncool meter by many degrees, not that it was low by any means.

  I joined Kendra at the bottom of the stairs, grabbing my messenger bag and slinging it over my neck. “I take it you aren’t going to miss walking to the bridge?”

  Wide eyes met mine. “You’re kidding, right? I still think it’s weird your parents won’t let you drive.”

  Interlocking my arm in hers, I pulled her out the front door. “I have a closet full of knitted sweaters with one arm noticeably larger than the other. Weird is my life.”

  As we started our ten-block walk to the Cedar Street Bridge Marketplace, I relished in the last month of earth-producing warmth in my little town of Sandpoint, Idaho. The population boasted less than 8,000 people. Small was an understatement. For example, Spokane, which was the closest major city to us by seventy miles, housed over 200,000 people.

  I grew up here, so all I knew was small-town living where everyone kept tabs on everything, and you couldn't look at a boy without it spreading through the whole student body within minutes. Learning the art of silence at a young age saved me from a lot of humiliation at the end of eighth grade when my world crumbled like a stale cookie. I became distant from my childhood friends, trying to hide the emotional devastation that hung around me like a dark cloud. Those friends quickly turned on me, taking personal offense when I chose a complete stranger over them. Kendra had moved to town near the end of summer before ninth grade, and we had stuck together ever since. She was the only one who cared enough to not ask questions and to just be there for me. The rest of my so-called friends were too wrapped up in boys, fashion, and who the next top model would be. Kendra was an enigma—the mysterious and beautiful new girl—and could have been friends with anybody, but she chose me. And I chose her.

  "What are you thinking about?" Little Miss Enigma inquired after we logged a few blocks on our trip.

  I gave her a grateful side hug. "What a great friend you are."

  "You got that right! I wouldn't walk to town for just anyone."

  Her long white hair was flatiron straight, contrasting her bright blue eyes, and blending with her rosy cheeks and soft pink lips. She was naturally beautiful, not needing a speck of makeup. I, on the other hand, was completely ordinary, and I could probably benefit from a little blush and lipstick to offset the fair skin I had inherited from my mother.

  “Your parents seriously have to get over this no-driving-until-you’re-eighteen thing,” Kendra whined.

  I didn’t tell her driving wasn’t high on my priority list, but it was easier to blame it on my parents. Divulging my inexplicable fear would dig up my past, and I just wasn’t ready to talk about the worst day of my life. Besides, everything was within walking distance in Sandpoint, and I loved the fresh air. I planned on prolonging the inevitable as long as I could stretch it.

  “Can we at least stop at the shoe boutique? I want a killer pair of heels for the first day of school.”

  The excitement rose in her voice while my stomach flipped with nausea. The start of junior year was only a few days away. This was the year when all the important dances took place: junior prom, winter formal, spring fling, and then as if those weren’t enough, they threw in a Sadie Hawkins dance the first month of school. A dreadful sigh left my lungs.

  “Oh, come on, Abby. You have no idea how pretty you are. Any guy would give their pitching arm to take you to a dance if you’d give them the chance.”

  Kendra had me laughing uncontrollably, to which my clumsy self ended up tripping over my own two feet, causing a domino effect of disaste
r. I landed hard on my knees, and my messenger bag twisted over my face.

  “Oh…my…word!” Kendra exclaimed loudly.

  Something in Kendra’s tone and the exaggerated spaces between words tipped me off that she wasn’t talking about my less than graceful plummet to the ground.

  “Who…are…they?” Kendra’s voice drifted softly to my ears.

  I pushed the messenger bag away from my eyes, but complete removal called for more effort since the strap buckle was tangled in my hair. I followed her line of sight to the red light where a flashy, slate gray Mercedes convertible idled. I had missed whatever view Kendra was drooling over, getting rearview only now, but I was able to definitively discern there were two boys and a girl, because the convertible top was down. The girl’s hair was golden, held securely in a ponytail, the driver’s hair as dark as lava rock, and the boy who rode in the back had auburn hair. They seemed oddly familiar, and my stomach swirled with unease.

  “I don’t recognize the car. Can you help me get my hair out of this thing?” I begged my stupefied, unmoving friend. “Earth to Kendra!” I shouted.

  It only took a second for the world to slow down as the boy in the back seat turned to us, alerted by my obnoxious demand for help. The boy with auburn hair met my eyes, trapping me in a flood of memories—laughing, crying, screaming. A lump formed in my throat, and all the moisture in my mouth dissipated along with the air in my lungs. The light turned green, and the convertible roared to life, taking away two years of progress.

  Breathing had now completely failed me.

  “Abby?” A faint plea penetrated the pounding in my ears. “Abby, breathe.”

  But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. My face melted into the warm concrete, Wes’ face being the last image burning in my retinas before I blacked out.

  “ABBY, ARE YOU all right?”

  My eyes blinked open and were met with blue-eyed worry. Kendra’s long lashes pulsed rapidly as she shook me gently in her lap. I was mortified to see Mrs. Baker and her daughter Natalie hovering worriedly above us.

  “I called 911,” Mrs. Baker said quickly.

  I groaned in response to my complete mortification and, of course, Miss Popular would be here to witness it.

  “I think she’s okay.” Kendra’s knowing wide eyes fixed on mine.

  “Wow, what happened, Abby?” Natalie feigned concern.

  I sat up slowly, my head spinning slightly. “It must be the heat,” I lied.

  “Oh. It doesn’t seem that hot to me. Are you hot, Mom?” Natalie turned to her mom.

  “No, honey, but Abby has always been a bit fragile. Stay put, sweetie. Let the paramedics take a look at you.”

  I glowered at the mother-daughter duo. Kendra blocked the view before they noticed.

  “This is ridiculous. I’m fine,” I protested, crossing my arms over my chest. The sirens filled the midafternoon air, getting closer by the second.

  I hid my face in my hands. This would be all over school on Monday and what if Wes was there, too? Two years without a word and he just drives back into my life. I could already feel him inching back into what was left of my heart.

  After the paramedics released me, Natalie made a hundred phone calls to let everyone know I was okay.

  “How else would they know? You’re welcome.” Natalie flashed her beauty pageant smile and sauntered away with her mom, disappearing into a dress shop on the corner of First Avenue, leaving Kendra and me alone once again. We were only a block away from Cedar Street Bridge Marketplace.

  “What the hell happened?” Kendra’s voice was still unsteady as she interlocked her arm in mine.

  “I can walk without your help, Ken,” I assured her.

  “Maybe, but I’m not letting you get away until you tell me why you just passed out.” Her eyebrow raised in curiosity.

  My shoulders dropped, not wanting to start a conversation that would take longer than the walk we had left. “Can you just let it go for now?” I asked softly.

  She squeezed my arm. “Of course,” she accepted sympathetically.

  “I don’t feel like shopping anymore. Would you mind if I had my mom pick me up?” We stood at the corner of the best shopping our town had to offer. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Spokane was a huge trek, and without a car, impossible.

  “I’ll come with you,” she offered.

  “No, really. It’s okay. I’d like to be alone anyway.” My chest filled with the familiar ache of the past.

  “Uh, okay. If you’re sure.”

  “I am.” I couldn’t bear to break down in front of her again. She had seen enough unanswered tears from me over the years, and my mom was already on her way because, thankfully, Mrs. Baker had thought to call her and tell her what happened. Thankfully.

  My mom and I drove in silence. We didn’t have a lot in common these days. She liked to knit and talk about tulips and begonias while I enjoyed reading, watching the classics, writing, and most of all, silence.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, honey? Mrs. Baker had me very worried, telling me the paramedics came and all.”

  She reached out to comfort me, placing her hand over mine hesitantly. It had been a long time since we showed much physical affection toward each other, but she was a good mom and always had the best intentions for me, no matter how misguided at times.

  “Mrs. Baker is a drama queen. I felt a little dizzy, so I lay down on the sidewalk. That was it.” My answer seemed to have satisfied her, because she didn’t pry further. My concentration was solely on keeping my heartache from pushing tears down my cheeks. Then the questions would never end.

  My mom left the engine idling in the driveway. “I’m going to go to the store and get some things to make us dinner. If you’re feeling okay, that is?”

  I opened the door, already stepping out. “Mom, I’m fine. I promise. Dinner sounds great.” I forced a smile for her benefit. She only cooked when she was stressed.

  “I’ll be back in no time.”

  I shut the door and waved with a plastered smile until she was out of sight. That was when I noticed the sun wasn’t quite as warm as it was before. Dark clouds had rolled in, foreshadowing the cooler weather on its way. A breeze whistled through the trees, shaking dead leaves to the piles already forming below. Fall was upon us, its beauty undeniable, but the feeling that overwhelmed me, idling at that red light, stole a piece of that serenity.

  Goose bumps sprawled across my skin like a band of scurrying spiders. Nothing good could come from the Hunters returning. Trouble followed them, tragedy left in their wake, and I was at the top of the victim list.

  I slowly stalked up the stairs to my bedroom. It not only overlooked the driveway, but also the perimeter of thick forest that encircled our property. Our house was nestled up on a steep hill at the end of a small neighborhood at the edge of town. I loved the seclusion.

  My footsteps felt heavy, carrying the weight of so many tears shed over the auburn-haired boy. I kicked off my shoes and replaced my jeans for my favorite pair of sweats. Frozen in the middle of my room, time stood still. I had imagined this day so many times, in so many ways, but it had faded as days turned into months and then into years. I had finally stopped hoping for his return, but he was always in my thoughts, burning hell into every sleepless night. He had enchanted me all those years ago and haunted me for the years after.

  Dizziness swirled around me again, so I sought stability on my window bench and let the cool breeze coat my skin. The clouds were getting darker and more threatening by the minute, and the wind was strong enough to pick up the top layer of leaves and spin them like a tornado, much like the feelings weighing down my chest.

  I had so many questions for Wes. Ones that I had etched into my journal day after day after day, but I wasn’t sure I’d be brave enough to ask him even one. Where had he been for the past two years? Why did he leave me, bloody and broken? And the least likely to be asked, did he ever really care about me?

  First lov
e was a hard habit to kick. It was an addiction like any other. An obsession that plagued a mind endlessly. Only worse because, once it was stolen, it was gone, taking with it all signs of rationality. And I was hopelessly in love with Wes. He had consumed my thoughts with his endearing smile. There was a time when I had even thought that he felt the same for me, but then he disappeared, leaving my heart overflowing with doubt and an emptiness I swore would never fill again. It was laughable to ever imagine Wes with someone like me. The Hunters were perfect—beautiful, wealthy, and rarely entertained company. They were considered to be out of everyone’s league in Sandpoint, and many questioned why they chose to settle here, so no one was surprised when they left.

  It was silly to think I would be special when I had nothing to offer, but my heart had succumbed to Wes, and I had taken a chance, only to be gutted and left for dead because that was what it felt like. Death. My confidence sank below sea level, and my insecurities layered thicker than the snow on our local mountains. How was I going to face him when my heart already hurt from the mere thought of being in the same town as him?

  My back found comfort against the wall, my eyelids closed, feeling heavy from the mentally exhausting day, and I tried hard to remember why I hated him so much so I could be strong on Monday. So I could be strong today. So many memories I had fought hard to stash away filled my weakening mind.

  “This is it, you know?” iridescent eyes whispered.

  My heart fluttered as I closed my eyes and sucked in a quiet breath, grasping my hands tightly together to mask the trembling. Wes’ lips grazed mine, stopping the world around me. Then screams yanked me from my fantasy, and those iridescent eyes were gone.

  I jolted from the window seat, my fingers digging into my chest as my frightened heart pounded fiercely in retaliation. A flock of squawking birds outside pulled me back to the safety of my room, reminding me it was just another nightmare. They flew wildly as they took flight, beautiful with fully extended wings and snow-white feathers. One of the feathers was lost, and I followed it as it drifted slowly to the ground, swirling in circles with the breeze, landing on what was left of the disturbed pile of leaves. As I lifted my chin, a pair of eyes stared back at me. My muscles tensed and a scream stuck in my throat, and before it could escape, the eyes were gone. I searched the forest manically, but it was empty. Nothing moved, not even the air, and the silence was palpable. It was just a wolf, I tried to convince myself. We had a lot in the area, but I had never seen one so close to the house.