Fractured Sky (Tattered & Torn #5)(14)

“What’s going on?” Beckett asked, stepping into the space.

Our kitchen was large and open, but it suddenly felt as if I couldn’t breathe. Too many people. Not enough room.

Mom looked from Beckett to me. “I got a call from Victims’ Rights today. They wanted to make sure we’d both received our letters.” Hurt filled her expression as she met my gaze. “Why didn’t you say anything about Howard Kemper?”

The room went deathly silent around me.

“What about Howard Kemper?” Fury laced Beckett’s tone, and Addie moved in to take his hand. I saw the worry in her eyes, both for her husband and for Everly. Addie loved her cousin like crazy, and as much as she despised Howard, he had been her uncle.

“He died in prison this week, and Shiloh knew.” My mother’s words were accusing. I knew it came from a place of hurt for me not sharing, but that didn’t matter. It was just one more cinderblock of pressure.

Addie sucked in an audible breath, her knuckles bleaching white as she gripped Beckett’s hand.

“Julia,” my dad warned.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mom prodded.

To avoid the scene we were having now. So I didn’t feel everyone’s eyes on me the way they were currently. “It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about.”

Her jaw dropped open.

Dad squeezed her shoulders. “That’s understandable. If you do want to talk, you know we’re here.”

“I called Dr. Kensington and left a message. I’m sure she’ll make time to see you this week,” my mom said.

I dropped the towel onto the counter. The telltale trembling was back. I hated that little show of weakness. I clenched and flexed my fingers, fighting the anger and panic creeping in on me. “I don’t need to see Dr. Kensington.”

“Of course, you do. This is bound to bring up old trauma. You need someone to process with. I’m not saying you need to talk to me, but you have to talk to someone. It has helped me so much—”

“I’m not you,” I bit out.

“You may not be, but you still need to talk to someone. At least, once a week.”

The walls felt as if they were closing in on me, and I struggled to suck air into my lungs.

“Mom,” Hadley said as she crossed to her. “Let’s all just take a beat.”

She was trying to help, but it was one person too many. They were all too close. I lurched to the side and took off towards the door.

“Shiloh!” my mom called.

But I just kept running. I didn’t stop until I reached Sky’s stall. I grabbed the bridle with one hand while sliding the door with the other. She opened her mouth for the bit before I even reached her. I tugged everything into place and climbed onto her, bareback.

In a matter of seconds, we were headed for the woods. I didn’t miss the sound of my name on the night air, but as soon as Sky had warmed up, I pushed her into a canter. She flew down the worn path. I didn’t have a destination in mind. I simply wanted to get away. At the sound of the rushing creek, I steered Sky in that direction.

My lungs burned as I struggled to take in air. Each breath hurt. My hands clenched around the reins, my fingers tingling.

That sensation was just one of the warning bells. If I didn’t get myself breathing normally soon, I’d pass out.

Sky slowed as we reached the creek, and I slid off her back instantly. She hovered behind me as I took off for the water. My boots submerged in the stream, and I didn’t care in the slightest.

I bent to splash the cold water over my face. The fresh snowmelt was so frigid it startled a gasp out of me—my first real breath in minutes. I did it again and again, relishing the bite of pain against my face.

Pressure gathered behind my eyes, but I refused to let the tears fall. I’d never be free. Not completely. I was destined to live in the chains my family had woven around me in a quest to keep me safe.

I splashed more water on my face, trying to drown the pain of that realization. I was so consumed by my spiraling thoughts that I didn’t hear the hoofbeats. But the deep voice had me jolting.

“What the hell are you doing?”





6





RAMSEY





The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. It might’ve been spring, but the sun had disappeared, and it had to be hovering in the low forties. The stream Shiloh was standing in was pure snowmelt. She would get hypothermia.

Those light blue eyes locked with mine, and I froze. She was pale. As if all the blood had drained from her head. And those eyes were too wide, her gaze jumping at each rustle of the wind in the trees.

I slid off Rocky and strode towards Shiloh. “What happened?”

She gave her head a slight shake. “Nothing.”

“Nothing doesn’t send someone into a freezing creek. It doesn’t drive the color from their skin.”

Shiloh’s hands clenched and flexed at her sides in a rapid rhythm. She opened her mouth to speak and then seemed to struggle to get the words out. “I-I—” She let out a growl of frustration when they wouldn’t come.

I moved to the creek’s edge. When I came within arm’s length of her, she stumbled back. I muttered a curse and took two large steps back myself. Of course, she was scared. She was alone in the woods, and I wasn’t exactly nonthreatening.