Water’s Edge (A Series of Sharp Edges #1)

18. Mattie

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

mattie

T he thin coat of frost covering the ground turns my bare feet frozen and raw, but I can’t stop running. Clouds spill out of my mouth with each heavy breath. My thin white nightgown clings to me, my nipples sharp enough to tear through it. Even though my body shivers violently, my hair clings to my face, damp with sweat.

I’m looking for something. What is it? Panic rises in my chest, threatening to crush me if I can’t remember this one simple thing. Remember, Mattie. Remember.

The trees are thick around me, closing in as I run further down the trail. Shadows snake out from the gaps between them, erasing the path behind me and leaving only darkness. I command my legs to pump harder. I’m almost there. I don’t know how I know, but I do. Just keep going.

Shadows lick at my heels but pull back into the trees as I reach the clearing. An open patch of fresh snow waits for me, circled by the woods. I stop, doubling over, choking on each breath. Branches crack from the edge of the circle, and my head snaps up, eyes wide and heart pounding.

A snow-white buck steps out of the trees. He stops just feet in front of me, gently shaking the snow and brush from his antlers. He snorts twice, his breath billowing before him. He’s beautiful.

I take one step, then two. My arm reaches out ahead of me, my fingers twitching with anticipation. I hold my breath, trying to still myself, not wanting to scare this majestic creature off.

His eyes, like dark beads, pierce me, and he lifts his coal-black snout to meet the tips of my fingers. His breath is hot, steam rising between my fingers. A grunt reverberates through him, and my jaw slackens as his fur sloughs away from him, turning into specks swirling away from us in the winter breeze. Skin and muscle fade away into dust and join the air blowing wildly around us. The circle of air spins around us until just bones stand before me. The deer still stares at me through darkened eye sockets, his snorts still impossibly producing puffs of air. He snorts once, stomping his hoof, and then the bones clatter to the ground, and the air falls still.

My phone alarm blares loudly, causing me to shoot up in bed, drenched in cold sweat. I rub both temples in slow circles, trying to ease the throbbing inside my head. Everything is too much right now—the light too bright, the air too humid, my skull too fucking small for my brain. The ceiling fan clacks annoyingly above me with each wobble.

I raise the blanket to look down at my body. The soreness in my limbs radiates down to the bone, telling me I have some damage to assess. I squeeze my eyes tight. The ache in my pussy tells me what happened last night, even if the details are fuzzy. I’m naked as the day I was born, and I know I didn’t come home from work that way. I take a deep breath and open my eyes again. Fresh bruises and scratches litter my skin. “What the fuck?” I mouth silently.

I throw the blanket back and stumble on baby deer legs to the bathroom. Bracing myself against the laminate countertop, I splash cold water over my face enough times to wake me up. My courage finally builds enough to look at myself in the smudged mirror. A gasp falls out of my open mouth, and I have to grab the counter again to keep from falling back.

Unfamiliar eyes, the green swallowed whole by black, stare back at me. A necklace of bruises rounds my throat. I blink furiously until tears well at the corners of my eyes, and I try again. Green eyes peer back at me, only bloodshot from the lack of sleep. The bruises, though, are still there. The sting as I run my fingers over them lets me know they’re real. The vial necklace still hangs against my chest. The little spark of light is almost completely extinguished, and I have to squint hard to make it out.

Nope. I shake my head and stomp to the kitchen. I need caffeine to handle this shit. Bright light streams from the windows, stinging my eyes, and I let out a hiss. I wildly wave my arms in front of my face, trying to cover them but not trip over my own feet. I dump out the stale pot of coffee from yesterday and give it a quick rinse before putting it back to work. The coffee slowly drizzling into the pot is the only acceptable noise right now.

A heavy sigh escapes me as I sit at the tiny table that splits the kitchen from the living room. I rest my elbows on it, causing the table to rock unevenly, and bury my head in my hands. Images flash through my mind, fragments of last night, like watching snippets from a movie.

Looking for the man who pissed me off at the bar but finding an empty parking lot. The same man, dead on my porch. Running through the woods. Trying to escape—something. The lake with moonlight dancing across the surface. My stranger.

My head snaps up. My stranger—and now, apparently, my fucking stalker. My center throbs, heat radiating from between my thighs. My body remembers what my mind can’t. I close my eyes and try to fill in the details, but the memory feels clouded, and all I can see is our bodies intertwined through a veil of darkness. It’s more than I remember from our first night together, but it’s still only a few frustrating fragments. The coffee flow slows to only drips falling into a full pot, but I’m already wide awake.

The three cups of coffee I chugged are finally hitting my bloodstream as I walk across the Foxfire parking lot. I pull back my hair, still wet from the shower, into a ponytail and take a quick look in my side-view mirror. The makeup I tried and failed to put on does nothing to conceal my bruise necklace. “Fuck,” I whisper. Tally is definitely going to be asking questions. I look up to the sky and groan. Maybe if the lord just struck me down now, I wouldn’t have to do this walk of shame. I wait for a few seconds, and when wrath doesn’t rain down on me, I reluctantly head inside.

I wander through the back, and I can already hear Tally muttering mostly to herself, or possibly talking at Wiley. Sure enough, Tally is zipping around at full speed, prepping everything for whatever big game is going to be on today. Wiley is sitting at a booth with his record books spread in front of him. I slow my movements, trying to buy myself a few more moments of peace, which are immediately interrupted by Tally’s squeal of delight—a squeal that’s quickly followed by pursed lips and cluck from her tongue. “Sugar, you look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet.”

She’s not far off. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that’s exactly what happened. I shrug and throw an eye roll her way before pulling out glassware. She has already done damn near everything we need to open, and I huff with frustration. There’s nothing to distract me from my thoughts and push back the inevitable uncomfortable conversation.

Tally’s heels clack across the eternally sticky no matter how much we mop the floor. I brace myself for impact in three…two…one…

“Mattie Mae! What on God’s green Earth happened to your neck?” she shrieks, each word rattling through my head. Before I can defend myself, her hands flutter around me, forming an opinion about every scratch and bruise she can find. My chest tightens, and I press my molars together hard enough for my jaw to ache. Her words come out in an indecipherable string, filled with enough curse words that Wiley is now paying attention.

“Tallulah, would you let the girl live?” he chuckles. A grin spreads across his face, and he winks at me before going back to minding his books. It’s Tally’s turn to roll her eyes now, but Wiley’s interjection is enough to make her pause her frantic inspection. She lowers her head like it could give her a better vantage point and peers out at me through blonde wisps of hair. Her eyes are full of questions, ones I’m not ready to answer—ones I’m not entirely sure I can answer.

Finally, she backs up a step in retreat. “You’re okay, Mattie girl?” Her voice is full of concern and at a much lower decibel than before. I slide my social mask into place and relax my jaw before giving her a nod, rubbing it with my hand.

“Just had a wild night is all,” I say, adding a little laugh at the end to sell it.

“Alright fine, keep your secrets.” Her twinkling laugh disperses the awkward tension between us. I’m able to enjoy the relief for almost a minute before she knocks the air out of my lungs with her next words.

“Oh, a man came in looking for you last night.” Her eyebrows dance, and she smirks at me. “I didn’t know you were seeing Sheriff Danvers.”