4. Chapter Four

There was no mistaking the gunshot that echoed through the old farmhouse, but it wasn"t nearly as frightening as the silence that followed.

Lennon and I were upstairs hiding in our bedroom closet, the way we did anytime Mom and Chris were fighting. It was as far away as we could get without running and hiding in the woods at the back of our property, but we could still hear things being thrown, still hear them screaming.

Now, as we sat huddled together, we heard nothing.

Lennon gripped my wrist for reassurance as my heart leaped into my throat, and the sound of squealing tires on the gravel outside spurred me into action. I barely made it to the window in time to see our step father"s blue pickup truck peeling out of the driveway.

"Come on, Jo," Lennon urged, grabbing me by the sleeve and hurrying for the locked door.

If Chris was gone, we were safe, and I didn't want to be there when he got back. We had to leave, and it had to be now.

First, we had to find Mom. Maybe she would run with us. Maybe this would be the time she finally put her foot down and left him. Maybe we could go somewhere far away and start over, just the three of us. Maybe…

My train of thought derailed as soon as we hit the main floor and turned the corner into the dining room. There, facedown on the floor, was a body that looked eerily like my mother's, her mousy brown hair obscuring most of her face. The parts that were visible were blotchy with blue and purple bruises, and her lip was split.

No. This didn"t make sense. Sure they fought, but Chris would never actually kill her. He couldn"t. He wouldn"t…

I screamed, everything finally piecing together in my mind. The fight. The gunshot. Chris' truck speeding away.

He"d shot her.

Lennon grabbed my hand, her hold the only thing tethering me to the earth as a pool of crimson began to form around our mother"s unmoving body. It crept across the hardwood, seeping between the old boards. The longer I stared, the harder it was to drag my gaze away.

As hopeful as I wanted to be, only one thing resounded through my brain: no one could survive that much blood loss.

I finally moved when my twin demanded I run, turning on my heel and racing for the front door. I had no idea where we were going, only that we needed to get out of the house. We could worry about what to do when we made it through the woods to our closest neighbor.

I reached the door first, my feet moving on autopilot, and grabbed the handle to wrench it open. I expected to find my path unobstructed, and was ready to break into a sprint, but a looming figure blocked the doorway.

Tall and swathed in a tattered black robe, the figure made my blood run cold. Black shadows swirled around his feet, billowing toward me and wrapping around my legs. Somehow, they constricted like vipers, rooting me to the spot despite my efforts to fight back.

I looked over my shoulder, desperately searching for Lennon, hoping she"d be able to free me, but she was gone.

"No one"s coming to save you," a deep voice rolled over me, vibrating down to my bones.

I slowly turned back to face the robed man, staring at the shadow his hood cast over his face. I could make out a pale jawline so sharp it looked like it was carved from stone and part of his downturned mouth, but everything else was obscured by darkness. The shadow tendrils were now squeezing my legs to the point of pain, slowly engulfing more of my body, and I winced.

"What are you?" I asked, my voice not much more than a whisper.

His hand shot up in a blink, his fingers wrapping around my throat and giving it a threatening squeeze. I tried to scream, but he only gripped tighter, cutting off the sound.

"I am wrath and ruin. I am darkness incarnate, and I will be your destruction."

A sudden jerk behind my belly button, the distinct sensation of falling, ripped me from my dream, and I slammed into the floor a second later. Pain blossomed through my lip, and the metallic tang of blood filled my mouth.

"Son of a bitch," I grumbled.

As I struggled to right myself, I realized my legs were hopelessly twisted in the bedsheets. It took some maneuvering to get free, and when I finally staggered to my feet I was out of breath.

I expected Lennon to burst into the room and ask me what all the ruckus was about, but she didn"t. She must have managed to sleep through the commotion. I wouldn't be surprised after I woke her up screaming in the middle of the night.

At least, that"s what I thought until I checked the time on my phone and realized I"d slept through my alarms and missed my first class of the morning.

I groaned, throwing my head back to stare at the ceiling. How the hell did this happen?

I didn"t lay awake all night and I knew I"d set two alarms just in case, but I couldn"t remember snoozing them. I couldn"t remember anything at all, except my dream.

Images came rushing back, but I didn"t want to think about them. Not only had I relived finding my mother dead for the millionth time, but the shadow figure had been there. It had grabbed me, choking me with enough force to crush my windpipe if it had been real. And it spoke…

I shivered. I was no stranger to vivid dreams, but this one was way too visceral for me to shake off. It lingered in my brain as I made my way to the bathroom in the hall.

If I focused hard enough, I could still feel the smoke tendrils wrapping around my legs. I could still feel the dark figure's fingers digging into the tender skin of my throat. With a flinch, my hand instinctively went to my neck expecting to find it sore, but it wasn"t.

"It was just a dream," I whispered as I started the shower, all the while avoiding looking at the narrow mirror above the sink. If I could, I would have taken all the mirrors in the house and hidden them along with the first, but what good would it do? There were plenty of mirrors at work. I couldn"t avoid them all.

Uneasiness growing in the pit of my stomach, I stripped out of my pajamas and stepped into the scalding stream of water. I hoped the heat would melt away some of my anxiety, settle the discomfort bubbling through me. I hoped it would soothe my worried mind.

If I planned on making it to my second class, I needed to calm the fuck down. I didn"t need my psychology professor using me as a case study if I freaked out in the middle of his lecture.

I"d never live that down…

Truthfully, I didn"t know why I cared so much about classes. I wasn"t like Lennon, who"d known since middle school she wanted to be a veterinarian. I had no fucking clue what I wanted to do beyond body piercings, so college was probably a waste of time, but school felt safe. I enjoyed the normalcy, something I"d been deprived of for half my life. Without the rigid class schedule and the constant distraction, I"d be even more lost, following Lennon along wherever she went forever.

That's what I normally did. Lennon would suggest something, and I'd go along with it. I didn't fuss or argue; It wasn't like I had anything better to do. When she wanted to enroll at Davenport Community College, I tagged along. When she wanted to rent an apartment across the street from the campus for convenience, I agreed. Life with my twin was simple, uncomplicated, but I knew it wouldn't be that way forever.

Eventually, things would have to change.

I'd have to find my calling, my passion. I'd have to find my purpose. I couldn't just live in Lennon's shadow…

The shadow.

That's all it took for the hooded figure to come to mind again, haunting my thoughts like a specter of death waiting for me to keel over. I scrubbed my hair, massaging the coconut-scented shampoo into my scalp until the scent permeated the steamy air, thinking about the man I'd seen in my dream. Everything about him from the tattered robe he wore to the sharp cut of his jaw had been so clear, so unlike the swirling darkness I'd seen in the corner of my eye for so long, but I knew without a doubt it was him.

Could that really be what he looked like when his details weren't obscured by smoke? Or had that just been the product of my imagination?

As terrifying as the thought of him was, curiosity prickled over my skin in the form of goosebumps. I wanted to see what existed beneath his hood. Did he have a handsome face? Sinister red eyes? Or was the dark fabric hiding something grotesque like rotting eyeballs or a faceful of puss-filled sores?

I knew I shouldn't dwell on him. I needed to shove the shadow figure from my mind and pretend he didn't exist, the way I had for the last three years, but it was obvious I couldn't run from him. Even if I managed to ignore him every second of the day, he'd filter into my dreams like he had last night.

Even in my sleep, I wasn't safe.

I turned to reach for my body wash and something slimy brushed against my shoulder, sending a jolt of fear rocketing up my spine. I screamed, jumping and nearly slipping on the porcelain. As soon as I regained my footing, I spun around and punched instinctively, knowing I'd have a better chance of survival if I just started swinging. Act first, ask questions later.

My fist hit the plastic shower curtain, and I stared in confusion.

"God damn it," I hissed, my heart jack hammering against my ribs. My senses were all on high alert, despite there being no one there.

There I was nearly having a heart attack and it was just the stupid fucking shower curtain.

"You've got to be kidding me," I groaned, massaging my temple with two fingers. First I was hiding mirrors in closets, and now I was attacking unsuspecting plastic curtains. What next?

I hurriedly scrubbed my body and got out of the shower, wrapping myself in a fluffy blue towel and scurrying back across the hall. Psych class clearly wasn't going to cut it as a distraction today, especially considering how jumpy I was. If anyone dropped a book or coughed too loud, I might spiral into a panic attack.

No. What I needed was to unwind and chill, and that was going to start with a very stiff drink.

I didn"t bother putting on makeup. That would have required staring at a mirror for way longer than I wanted to. Instead, I pulled on a pair of black leggings and my favorite bleach-stained black hoodie before shoving my hair into a short ponytail. After lacing up my combat boots, I donned the same eight rings I wore everyday—added protection in case I needed to punch someone—and headed out the door.

Not to my surprise, it was raining again. I could have gone back upstairs to grab my umbrella, but I decided to throw up my hood and ignore the fine mist, sloshing down the sidewalk as I headed toward the nearest bar.

It was still early, at least half an hour before the local places started serving alcohol, but I didn't care. I couldn't sit in my apartment waiting for the shadow to show up and taunt me. I needed to do something, even if it involved walking around downtown for a bit. I needed a distraction.

I needed to get the shadow out of my head before I lost my mind.