Ruined (The Eternal Balance #1)(18)

The whole situation was eerily familiar. A fuzzy memory, one from the night my parents were killed, lurked just beneath the surface, but I couldn’t grab it. Being attacked must have stirred things up. “I think—I think someone scared the guy off.”

Jax nodded. He was too quiet and it was making me nervous. When he spoke again, there was a feral intensity to his voice that scared me. “You remember anything else? Weight, height, hair color? Any defining characteristics?”

I didn’t want to talk about this. Not with him. Not with anyone. But there was no way he’d let it go.

“His voice was muffled and gravelly. I remember thinking it sounded wrong somehow. Fake, almost. Like one of those prank voice boxes, ya know?” That voice was the star of my recent nightmares, telling me to stop struggling. To give in. It was the sound that woke me in a cold sweat, sometimes screaming until my throat was raw. “I’d been drinking at the party and I’d had a huge fight with Aaron, this guy I went out with once. He got grabby and I decked him. Everyone at the party saw it go down. That’s a big part of why the cops dismissed the whole thing. A domestic dispute, they called it—but that’s crap. Aaron had been drinking, same as me. The guy who jumped me didn’t smell like alcohol.”

He didn’t respond, so I continued, too afraid of letting the silence float between us.

“I left school a few days later. I couldn’t concentrate. I kept looking over my shoulder. Waiting for someone to break down my door in the middle of the night. I kept thinking…” That history was repeating itself. And it was, right? The attack, the accidents, the car… Those were connected in some way. I wanted to tell him. To throw myself into his arms and let him help me carry the weight like he used to. But that time had passed. “I kept thinking I was insane. I just couldn’t handle it.”

“Sammy, this is nothing—”

“Martin is probably ready to shit rocks,” I said, gathering several bottles from the shelf before I lost my nerve and spilled it all. There was no way I’d let him finish that sentence. Already, a familiar stinging sensation in the corners of my eyes told me enough was enough. He made a move to take some of the bottles from me, but I jerked away, refusing his help. When I looked at him again, I had my game face on. This Sam could take on the world all by herself. She didn’t need anyone. She didn’t need Jax.

“Let me help you. Please.”

I was pretty sure he wasn’t talking about the armful of bottles. “It’s all good. I’m good. I make really great money here and I was going to have issues paying next semester’s tuition anyway. I would have had to drop out. Whoever this wacko was, he did me a favor.”

With that, I made my way back out to the floor, hoping to God he’d finally take the hint and just move on with his life.

Because that’s what I needed to do.





Chapter Nine




Jax

Fifteen minutes passed before I could even think about leaving the basement. The anger raging inside, provoking the demon, was borderline nuclear. I thought getting her to admit what happened out loud would help, but the truth was, it made things worse. For both of us.

The night on campus that Sam was attacked was the first time in years that I’d been so physically close to her. The demon went nuts, and once I was sure she was safe, I freaked and ran for the town line.

After hearing that the brakes had been cut, and seeing her reaction tonight, I was positive these accidents were connected. I imagined finding the bastard and tearing him apart, tiny piece by tiny piece. Not that this was the first time it’d crossed my mind. For days after the attack, I’d thought of nothing more. But in the end, I’d walked away, sure that there was no way to find the bastard responsible. The demon flashed images of a faceless man, beaten and broken a thousand different ways.

Something needed to be done.

When I was sure I had my anger in check, I left the cellar and surveyed the main room. Sam was back at the bar, fake smile firmly in place. Her colors were a mix of gray and red, but also the deep blue of sadness. It hurt to see her in pain, but in a twisted way, it was easier. Knowing that I’d caused that pain would make it easier to leave. Justified.

She was talking to a black woman with blond dreadlocks, and a tall man who kept stealing subtle glances down her low-cut shirt. If he didn’t back the f*ck off soon, there was a good chance I’d cross the room and kick his teeth in.

From the smell of it, the club was mostly human, although there was a faint trace of a demon or two. Each one had its own unique scent. A slight variation of sulfur and what I found similar to burning motor oil. It wasn’t surprising to find some here.

I hovered by a table on the other end of the room. The place was almost empty and they were bound to boot me any minute. Still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Sam. The distinct swirl of gray that surrounded her was like a black cloud hanging over her head. I could taste it from across the club, the sticky sweetness of her fear.

How many nights had I woken to find her sitting on the balcony outside her room in the middle of the night when we were younger. Nightmares. They were always the same—someone attacking her. We sat across from each other for hours, until the sun came up. Sometimes we talked. Other times we just watched the stars. Now, if I was right, she was reliving that nightmare in a very real way.