Chapter Six Aria

Chapter Six

Aria

“Pax!” I choked over his name as a muddled scream tore up my throat. I scrambled upright from where I’d been face down on a bench.

Gasps heaved my chest as confusion blistered through my body. The memory was so distinct I could have sworn I was right there with him.

I blinked, trying to rein my uneven breaths as I took in my foreign surroundings.

The room was cold and grimy, and dingy rust-colored tiles covered the floors. A drone of voices filled the musty atmosphere as people came and went. A voice announced over crackling speakers that a bus was arriving from New York City.

You’re at the bus station.

You’re fine. You’re fine.

Breathing through the weight of the strain, I struggled to rid myself of the memories of the first time I’d descended into Faydor.

I rarely dreamed of the past, or even dreamed at all. Only in the moments when I didn’t fully lose myself to sleep, when I hovered somewhere between consciousness and the ethereal.

Stuck in limbo.

Not awake, but also not deep enough for my spirit to have been fully carried to Tearsith.

And when I did dream, it was often of my first experience in Faydor. The night that had changed everything.

I touched the spot on my chest that would be forever scarred with that moment.

As if it were inscribed on my heart.

A moment in time when I’d met my fate.

Who I was supposed to be.

My attention traveled the area as I oriented myself.

Dreariness pressed at the windows that ran along the front of the brick building. Outside, a freezing drizzle fell from the sky, and a damp cold seeped through the walls. I hugged my backpack to my chest as if it could protect me from both the chill and the prying eyes that gauged.

Speculated.

Judged.

Those who worried I was unstable and about to snap.

I almost laughed.

If any of them had any clue about what was in my head, they would have believed that I had.

A woman in her sixties sat on a bench opposite me, clinging to her purse, not sure if she wanted to get up and move or stand to comfort me. Worry and compassion were clear in her expression.

I dropped my head to hide my eyes because I didn’t want to freak her out any more than I already had, and I blew out a heavy sigh and ran my fingers through my hair to gather myself.

It was reckless—dozing off that way.

I needed to remain vigilant.

Cautious.

To watch my surroundings and protect myself, because who else was going to do it?

I was trying to flee a city I could no longer remain in.

Alone for the first time in my life.

Lost, yet seeking a new purpose.

A way to live out this life in the best way that I could, and I knew I couldn’t do it here in Albany.

I couldn’t continue to cause my parents pain, and I couldn’t continue to succumb to the pain that they caused me.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I checked the time. There was still an hour before my bus left. Cringing, I forced myself to ignore the missed calls and texts from my parents.

Mom had immediately known I wasn’t going to school, and I’d hidden myself behind the neighbor’s fence as I’d listened to her shouting my name from the front yard. Frantic, she’d run down the sidewalk before she returned home, only for the garage door to rise a minute later and her minivan to slowly drive down the street.

Searching.

It was then that my phone had started ringing incessantly.

I’d listened to her first message. She had begged me to come home.

Swore she was only trying to help me.

Was there to protect and love me.

She’d promised to get me help.

Panic had lit at that because I knew exactly what that meant, and I hadn’t been able to bring myself to listen to any more of them, so I’d turned off the locator right before I’d gone to the nearest bank and emptied out my savings account.

When I got to California, I would check in with them.

I would let them know I was safe but that I wasn’t coming home.

Once I was eighteen.

Once this place was far behind me.

Grief sank deep into my spirit with the thought of leaving, pain shearing through me at the truth that I would likely never see them again.

I loved them. Fiercely and wholly.

And the thought of leaving my brothers and sister behind, never getting to watch them grow and thrive and experience their joy, left a gaping hole inside me.

But I wasn’t sure my parents could ever love both sides of me. They would never accept me or take me at my word—the word I’d kept hidden for years because of it.

Leaving was the only way.

I readjusted myself on the uncomfortable metal bench.

My attention jumped around at the different people sitting in the bus station lobby. Every age and every race. It was impossible not to wonder what might be in each person’s mind.

Not to wonder if they were currently being attacked.

Fed lies and wickedness.

Their spirits drowned in hurt, pain, and shame.

I swore I could almost hear the voices in their minds, a low hum of ambiguity that I’d never experienced before. I tried to shake it off, worried that maybe I really was losing a piece of my sanity.

Curling in on myself, I hugged my knees to my chest, with my backpack pinned between them, while I waited. Letting my mind go there wouldn’t do me any good.

I had no power here.

Awake, I was subject to every human weakness, just like Ellis had always warned. I possessed no extra insight or strength.

I was fiddling with the latch on my backpack to pass the time when I felt a sudden shift in the air.

Awareness spun, and it whipped the atmosphere into a dense, viscous dread.

My head snapped up to find my father standing just inside the sliding doors.

Staring directly at me.

In an instant, my throat closed off.

Shit.

He was here. He had found me.

His chest jutted in both anger and relief. He wasn’t wearing a suit like he typically did. He was in jeans and a poofy black jacket.

My heart began to thunder, a violent pounding in my ears.

Panic grew so fast and thick it obstructed the oxygen from flowing into my lungs.

His jaw was clenched, his stare unyielding.

I should have known he would hunt for me.

Find me.

“Aria,” he ground out, his voice hard and severe. He stretched out a hand in a placating fashion, as if I were a wild animal being backed into a corner. He took one step toward me. “Keep calm. I’m only here to help you.”

Alarm speared through my being.

That was exactly what I felt like. A caged animal.

One to be tortured and kept.

I’d been here before.

Had witnessed what that expression on my father’s face meant.

My attention darted right, then left as I searched, frantic, for an escape.

“I just want to talk to you.”

Except I knew he was lying. I could clearly see his intentions. They throbbed through the space like barbs that sank into my flesh.

One word blared in my mind.

Run.

Hopping onto my feet on the bench, I jumped over the back. My soles hit the tile with a thud. I shot toward the sliding-glass doors that led out to the buses in the back, running as fast as I could through the building.

I had to get away.

I couldn’t allow this to happen.

Not again.

If only I were half as fast awake as I was asleep.

“Aria!” My father’s shout echoed from behind as he gave chase.

I pushed myself harder, still hugging my backpack to my chest as I made it through the sliding doors and out into the icy chill of the Albany winter.

“Stop. Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he shouted, his voice curling into a growl. His footsteps pounded behind me, and people jumped out of his way as he barreled through. Shouts of disapproval and surprise rang from those who were jostled to the side.

“Get out of my way. That’s my daughter. She’s a runaway. Someone stop her!”

Tears burned at my eyes, but I forced myself not to focus on what he was saying. The only thing that mattered right then was getting away.

“Aria!” His anger pierced the air when he made it out the doors.

I sprinted across the paved lot, the soles of my shoes slapping through the puddles, my face impaled by the freezing droplets of rain.

I needed to make it to the next building in the hope that there would be someplace I could hide.

Harsh pants ripped from my mouth as I pushed myself faster. The muscles in my legs burned as my Chucks pounded on the ground.

Dipping between two buses, I cut through the mess of people waiting in line to board. I could only hope to distract my father. Disorient him. Make him falter or lose sense.

Only I felt him gaining, and the panic rose to a frenzy with each thud of his boots against the pavement.

Jagged breaths raked from his lungs.

“Aria! Stop this madness right now. You aren’t helping anything. You’re only going to make it worse.”

I almost breathed out in relief when I skidded around the corner of the industrial building, only shock jutted out of me when his arms suddenly shot out to surround me.

He tackled me to the ground.

“No!” I screamed as I slammed against the cold pavement. My elbows took the brunt of the impact since I was holding my backpack to my chest, and pain splintered up my arms. “No!”

“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Aria, but you chose it.” His words were shards. Animosity and disappointment.

I managed to flip around onto my back, and I started to kick and scream and squirm. I lost hold of my backpack as I smacked and hit. He grabbed me by both wrists and pinned them to my sides.

“No, let me go!” My head whipped back and forth as I tried to break free. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t. Leave me alone.”

They couldn’t do this to me.

They couldn’t.

Not again.

I thrashed, but there was nothing I could do with the weight of him nailing me to the ground.

He panted through his exertion, his eyes angry, wide, and pleading. “We’re only trying to help you. One day, you’ll understand. You will. I promise.”

“No,” I cried, succumbing to sobs when I knew there was no chance I could get away.

Because he was wrong.

They were the ones who would never understand.

They were the ones who would never truly see.