Into the Fading Twilight (Starlight Grove, #2) (83)

Shoving down the concern that none of my escapes were helping like they used to, I straddled my bike and focused on Mav. The last thing I needed was to be distracted and end up with a broken clavicle or a dislocated shoulder.

Maverick was clearly an expert. His bike hugged each curve and bend in the trail. His body preemptively adjusted to what lay ahead.

I tried to take mental notes of how he handled each obstacle—leaning in and out of turns, staying light in his seat, accelerating and braking.

When Mav reached the bottom of the trail, he took the center path and disappeared into the trees. My turn. The buzz beneath my skin intensified, my body, mind, and spirit desperate for the high I knew this would bring.

Shoving off, I stood, balancing on the pedals as the bike tipped over the edge. The drop felt like heaven. Wind whipped against my face as I charged down the mountainside.

I tapped my brakes lightly, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. It decreased my speed just enough for me to make it through the turn without taking a spill. As I straightened from the curve, the path dipped, launching me into a jump.

Leaning forward, I braced for impact by keeping my knees bent and absorbing the contact with my whole body. A whoop left my lips as I crested a hill and dipped into the next curve.

It was everything I needed. The ever-changing landscape forced me to stay in the present, not letting my mind get caught up in the past or mired in the future. There was only the now.

Mav and I found our cadence as we traversed the forest paths. We saw the occasional biker or hiker, even a couple of folks with dogs. Everyone was enjoying the heart of fall before winter descended, and snow was a very real possibility.

While I loved that they were all living, too, my favorite moments were the times when it was just me, the bike, and nature all around. My breathing sounded loud in my ears, punctuating the fact that I was still living. I lost myself in it. The blur of the trees as I raced past, the feel of the wind sharp against my face, my muscles pushing me as fast as I could go.

I wound my way through the trails until my lungs ached and my thighs trembled. As I slowed my bike, I frowned. This didn’t look like anything I’d seen on the map. The Meadow Peak Trail was framed by a babbling brook and the meadow it was named for. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen either.

All I saw now were trees—taller and thicker than how they’d started out, no meadow or creek peeking through the branches. Anxiety swept through me, but I bit down on the inside of my cheek, staving it off. Mav had made sure I had my emergency supplies for a reason. I guided my bike off the trail, in case another biker came tearing through, and pulled out my phone. I unlocked it and hit Maverick’s contact.

Nothing.

No ringing. No beeping. No nothing.

I looked at my phone screen. No bars. Then half a bar. Then none again.

A wave of dizziness slid over me, and I forced myself to climb off my bike.

“You’re fine, Nova. You’re perfectly safe.” But I could hear the tension in my voice, the tendrils of panic weaving through my words.

“No one even misses you. They’re not even looking. They don’t care at all.”

Travis’s words swirled in my mind. The cruel twist of his mouth. His hands tightening around my throat.

I couldn’t breathe.

“You’re alive. You’re breathing.”

I tried to fight off Travis’s words with Kol’s. I desperately attempted to hold on to that safe space in my mind as I struggled back up the trail the way I had come. I’d find my way back. I wouldn’t be lost.

“No one even knows you’re gone.”

It was Travis’s voice but new words. Cruel and taunting syllables that had to be a figment of my imagination. Still, I couldn’t get them to stop.

“They’re happy you’re gone.”

“Life would be so much easier without all the trouble you cause.”

The words were a mix of Travis’s and my mother’s now—the twisted cruelty they both loved so much.

“Gone is exactly where we want you to be—us and everyone else.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX


Kol




ABIRD CALLED OVERHEAD. I TIPPED MY HEAD BACK, taking in its tiny body and the flash of red feathers on its head. The ruby-crowned kinglet was likely on its way south as colder weather approached.

It instinctively knew how to care for itself, what it needed to survive. And I guessed I did, too.

As I walked through the forest, I let the sounds of nature soothe my ravaged edges. Every part of me felt out of sorts. And Waylon had seen it written all over my face.

He’d offered to take Sky for the day, bringing her along for ranch chores and rewarding her with a trip to the Grove Griddle afterward. And the fact that he’d needed to offer it just made me feel like more of a failure.

But my head could be a dark place even on good days. And everything with Nova had thrown me out of balance. Yet I couldn’t help wondering if that was something I needed.

I stared down at my phone. Three calls and four texts. All unanswered.

Me:

I’m sorry. I was an overprotective prick.



Me:

I get that you need to live your life.



Me:

Just let me know you’re okay.



Me: