CHAPTER FIVE
Nova
THE WIND RIPPED THROUGH MY HAIR AS I STOOD ON THE edge of the cliff. It was a violent kind of wind tonight. The kind that reminded you just how powerful nature was. I loved it.
The air battered my bare skin, nothing but the sports bra and underwear I wore protecting me. I hadn’t put the swimsuit on. Told myself I didn’t need it. I’d jumped that morning. It should’ve been enough of a fix for a few days at least.
But it wasn’t.
Maybe it was all the half conversations with Brae. Or finally coming face-to-face with Cora. My first day at a job after so long. The memories or imaginings fighting against the walls of my mind.
It could’ve been any of it fueling that need. It could’ve been all of it.
All I knew was that I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. And the panic was swirling like an angry sea under a stormy sky, threatening to swallow me whole.
“I’m alive,” I whispered into the wind. “I’m breathing.”
And then I launched myself into the air, trusting that it would catch me. It did. Like always.
The air, colder now that it was twilight, whipped against my body. And then I hit the water, like a thousand tons of frigid force.
It was the kind that could drown you if you weren’t careful.
But I let it swallow me as it was the only thing that could beat back the panic.
I submerged myself, going deeper and deeper, then cast my blurry gaze up to the surface.
Broken light made its way through, but sometimes, that was all you needed—a fractured piece of hope to keep you pushing on.
My lungs lit like fire, spurring my legs into kicking. Harder and harder. But they were beyond fatigued after my first day of being on my feet for so long.
A hint of fear bled through the relief as my lungs seized. I broke the surface and sucked in air. The first breath hurt, but it did exactly what I needed it to. It reminded me that I was alive, breathing. That I was still here.
I didn’t float this time. I kicked toward shore. My movements were awkward and jerky because my body was ready to give up. But I fought my way toward the beach.
Heaving myself out of the water, I slid my feet into my battered sneakers and made my way up the cliffside, my teeth starting to chatter as I wrung out my hair. An evening cliff jump might’ve been a mistake.
But as soon as the thought entered my mind, I knew it was wrong. Because even as my whole body hurt, the anxiety and panic were back down to that low hum, no longer threatening to strangle me.
I pulled on my leggings, tee, and sweatshirt, not exactly comfortable over my wet underwear, but the bike ride back to the cabin wasn’t too terribly long. The wind in my wet hair wasn’t my favorite sensation, but it punched that panic and anxiety even lower.
As I pulled up to the cabin, I saw movement behind the windows. Owen was jumping on the couch as Dex and Brae looked on, laughing. He held a video game controller over his head in some sort of victory dance. Dex wrapped an arm around Brae’s shoulders and dropped a kiss to her temple.
She melted into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it was exactly where she belonged. And it was.
I was the interloper.
Pain hit me hard and fast—the kind that stole your breath. And not in a good way like the water. This was a brutal sneak attack.
Because I wasn’t sure where I belonged.
Swallowing hard, I leaned my bike against the steps and headed up them. I unlocked the front door and stepped inside to Owen yell-singing some made-up song about being the champion of an elven universe.
The second the door snicked closed, Brae was moving toward the entryway. Her gaze traveled over me, and her jaw went slightly slack. “You’re soaking wet.”
I shrugged, not having the energy to force one of those fake-ass smiles. “I went for a swim but forgot my towel.”
“Nova. It’s forty-seven degrees out. That water had to be freezing.”
“It felt nice after a long day,” I hedged, trying to sidestep my best friend.
“You could catch pneumonia. Your body’s already fragile—”
“I’m not weak.” The words whipped out of me like a slap.
Brae looked like I’d done worse than hit her. “I know,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry. I …” There was nothing I could say. Everything I did seemed to hurt someone. Made them worry. I’d never felt more like a burden than in that moment.
Dex moved into the space, his arm sliding around Brae, giving the kind of comfort I wasn’t sure I’d ever have again. “You should grab a hot shower. Nothing feels better after a lake swim.”
He was trying to smooth the jagged edges for Brae and me. I appreciated it more than I could say, but it was like a Band-Aid on a bullet hole.
“Yeah,” I croaked.
Owen leapt into the entryway. “We gotta go in thirty minutes.”
I frowned. I never went anywhere. I could count on one hand the number of places I’d been. The local doctor’s office for my check-ups. My physical therapist’s practice. The grocery store. And now the Boot.
“I’m gonna teach you to feed the alpacas. Remember, Supernova?” Owen went on, practically bouncing in place.
I’d forgotten. There was one other place.
Twisted Oak Ranch. Home to the Archer brothers.
Well, their great-uncle, Waylon, anyway.
And three of the brothers had homes on the property: Orion, whom I’d only seen once and who hadn’t exactly been thrilled about my presence on the ranch; Maverick, the reckless Archer; and Kol.
Just thinking his name made my skin pebble. The cold and the wetness, that was all.
“I, uh—”
“Come,” Brae said softly. “Waylon will be sad if you’re not there.”
“You gotta, Supernova! Maybe an alpaca will spit on you,” Owen said hopefully.
Dex chuckled. “How can you say no to alpaca spit and whatever crazy Bigfoot story my great-uncle has up his sleeve?”
I couldn’t. Not with Owen’s hopeful eyes on me.
I’d already missed too much of his life—a whole year.
The first time I saw him after waking up in the hospital, he’d looked like an entirely different human.
His blond hair was even lighter, thanks to all the time he spent outdoors here.
His green eyes shone brighter because of how well cared for he was, and the blue glasses he rocked made him somehow look even more grown-up. I wasn’t about to miss any more.
“I’ll go get ready.” Even if it meant lying to everyone around me that I was okay.