He grabbed my hand and pulled me farther down the tree line. “How do you know so much about lightning bugs?”
Chuckling, he replied, “I grew up in Washington. They’re everywhere.”
I pulled him to a stop and held up the jar between us. “Alright then, Mr. Expert. What do you think of my first attempt at catching little bugs that light up their booty?”
When he didn’t answer right away, my eyes shifted from the glowing jar to Nick’s eyes. His hand reached out to caress my face, and he softly said, “I think the fireflies are doing wonders to light up your face. Sexier than candlelight, I bet.”
Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about him. A sense of calm flooded my senses before he leaned down to bring his lips to mine. This kiss was the complete opposite of our first, this one being slow, controlled and gentle. But still just as magnetic, as I yearned to lean in and merge our bodies into one, but was held back by the jar that filled the space between our stomachs.
The pounding of the ground and the crunching of leaves got us to pull away, reminding us of where we were. A little girl around eight had her sights set on the cluster of lights blinking around us.
Out of breath, she cried, “Wow!” when she spotted my jar, her eyes wide with amazement, as dazed as a doe in headlights. “I caught one, too!” She held up a jar that had a single blink occasionally making itself known. “I had more, but I keep losing them when I try to catch more.”
“Wow!” Nick cried with enthusiasm, leaning down to poke her jar. “But it’s so big! Much bigger than any of Megan’s little bugs.”
It was really no different than mine, but she still got all excited about it.
“Yeah, but they choose the winner by how many, not by how big. My brother’s caught three! He’ll probably win. He always beats me.”
That last remark got her a little down, and she looked to her bug with sadness. I leaned down and quickly traded out our jars, lifting my finger to my lips in a shushing manner. She got all bug-eyed with excitement again and cried, “Wow!” really loudly, then skipped off to where her mom was waiting, watching, and who offered us a quick wave in acknowledgement.
I held up the jar between us, jesting, “So how’s my face look against the light of just one little buggar’?”
His face was still as he looked my way, like he was seeing me clearly for the first time, but there was a smile nonetheless. “Even better. Because now, when I drag you just inside the tree line, no one’s going to be able to see us.” He playfully tugged me about twenty feet through the trees, then spent the next ten minutes supplying my lips with some much needed affection.
How had I ever survived without these warm lips? Why did I ever think I would be better off without them? And the way his arms wrapped tightly around me, made me feel safe for once, even out here in the open, in the darkness I’d come to hate.
After releasing our single lightning bug back into the wild, we snuck back out and returned to the festival. Picking up dinner at the BBQ booth, we took our plate to an empty table, but soon noticed Paul and Darla heading our way.
“Just to let you know. Paul’s been giving me the look all night.”
“The look?” I asked curiously.
“Yep. The look that says we need to talk. He doesn’t have a policy about not dating your co-worker, does he?”
“Please. Paul doesn’t have policies, period.”
“Oh, goodie. Then it’s probably just the don’t have sex in my restaurant talk.”
I chuckled, but couldn’t say anything more, as they sat down across from us at the picnic table. We chit-chatted over some nonessential topics, then boring shop talk about work. When Nick and I were done eating our sandwiches, Paul ever so subtly asked Nick to come grab a beer with him. Darla and I gathered the trash at the table and threw it away.
The wind picked up and chilled me to the bone. As much as I loved living in Oregon, people who were always on the chilly side pretty much needed some type of jacket year round during the night time. And since I wasn’t expecting to come to the festival tonight, I hadn’t grabbed one on my way to work. Crossing my arms to huddle for warmth, I spotted an unoccupied fire barrel. “Oh, yes! You coming, Darla?”
I didn’t wait for her to answer, but she hoofed it to catch up to me. Unfortunately, the damn fire wasn’t exactly roaring, its embers pathetically glowing at the bottom. Still, it was better than nothing, and I dipped my hands inside until I felt the heat permeate my palms. It was something I knew I’d never be able to do if the fire had been really burning.
“Girl, you know if you’d put a few more pounds on, you’d have natural warmth like me.” She playfully swung her hip into mine and I shook my head in amusement. I wasn’t going to respond to that, and luckily, I didn’t have to since Tish was catcalling us as she made her way over.
“You-hoo! Girlies!” she sang, embarrassingly loud, drawing the attention of several spectators. I could already tell she had a good buzz going.
“This fire sucks,” I muttered, rubbing my hands to build up some friction. Yeah, ironic for me to say, but I was pretty freaking chilly.
“Yeah, it does,” Tish blabbered. She splashed some of the clear liquid from her cup into the barrel without warning. The embers kicked to life and its fiery tendrils whipped their way up the barrel. I felt the heat against my hand intensify, and I yelped as I pulled my hands out.
Fire licked across my skin, the red inflammation growing darker and darker in color as the pain attacked my nerves.
“Damn it, Tish!” Darla yelled, snatching the cup from Tish’s hand. “What the hell is in there? I thought they were only selling beer here.”
“So someone brought a little vodka to the party. So not a big deal.” Surprisingly quick, Tish stole her cup back from Darla.
I checked my hands, my skin still tingling from the heat, my heart feeling the strain. “Thanks, Tish,” I snarked. “I think I just wet myself.” Well, not really, but I was lucky that burst of fire didn’t make me literally crap my pants. My comment got Tish’s drunk ass laughing, her drink sloshing haphazardly around the edge of her cup. “I’m going to go stand in line to finish peeing,” I jested, pointing to the set of port-a-potties.
“Oh, honey. No,” Darla stated with a hint of disgust. “Just go use the one at the diner.”
“Good idea.” I turned and scanned the area, but didn’t see Nick and Paul anywhere. Oh, well. “I’ll be back in a few.”
When I turned off the side road and headed down Main Street, I came to an abrupt halt. It was eerily deserted. Cars still filled most of the parallel spots and occasionally one would drive by, but I only saw two people walking hand-in-hand way out in front of me.
I didn’t like walking alone in the dark, even on a night when everyone in town was just a block away, the music and voices still replacing the silence around me.
This isn’t safe.
I turned to look back. How could so many people be in one direction and not the other? My heartbeat increasing with each passing second, I stood there under the yellowish glow of the street lamp. Which was completely stupid. Not only was the light inhibiting my eyes’ ability to scan the darkness efficiently for shadows, I let everyone out there know I was standing here all alone.
Suddenly those port-a-potties were looking a lot better.
Damn it, Megan. Just move. It’s not that far.
I sidestepped three times, holding still while my eyes adjusted. I needed to get it through my thick, paranoid head that I was safe here. Myrtle Creek was safe, way off the radar of everyone.
I could see the diner down the way. We had forgotten to turn off the exterior sign, so it still glowed red and yellow in the night sky, acting like a beacon to guide me on my journey. Alright, journey might have been an overstatement for the short expanse of road. But the distance between here and there was so daunting, I considered it to be an epic journey, because the terror clenching the muscles in my heart made me fear I may never return.
I sucked in a deep breath. I needed to do this. I needed to not be afraid. To prove to myself that I could walk alone in the dark for a quarter of a mile and have nothing bad happen in the process. I needed to take that step and move forward in my life.
One small step to reduce the fear that crippled me at times. One small step closer to being the kind of girl that could date someone like Nick. Someone who wouldn’t unleash a shit load of baggage onto him. I really didn’t want to be this version of Megan anymore. Scared. Paranoid. Haunted.
Exhaling slowly, I took that first step. Then a second and third, until my feet finally gave into rhythm and advanced my trembling body down the path. My eyes continued to worry, shooting left and right and behind at the slightest movement or noise in the vast darkness. Unlike the normal person, I found myself maneuvering around the light, finding safety in the blackest of blacks. As brave of a front as I had put on, I was still terrified to be out by myself, and my feet quickened their pace, yet were light as air against the pavement.
Unfortunately, I had to brave the light to get through the front door. My key already leaving its imprint inside my fisted hand, I quickly turned the lock, ignoring the sounds that seemed to use these precious few seconds to amplify around me, closing in faster and faster. My heart pounded against my ribs, yelling at my shaking hand for taking three attempts to get the key into its matching groove. I shoved myself through the door and locked it quickly behind me, not caring if I looked the fool to anyone outside. Stepping backwards, I allowed myself to blend into the shadows of the dining room, escaping the reaching tendrils of the outside light.
I began to register the familiar sounds in the kitchen behind me: the hums of the coolers and freezers, the buzz of the light by the back door that we always kept on at night, and the gentle whirring of the fan that kept Paul’s hard-drive cool.
I puffed a burst of air past my lips. My heart coming down from its high, the beating began to slow, and I shuffled off towards the bathroom, weaving through the maze of tables with ease. Hell, I knew the room so well I could’ve shut my eyes and danced my way through and never bumped a single thing.
Shaking my head at myself in the mirror, I silently berated my flushed cheeks. It wasn’t the cool night air that gave me that rosy complexion. My reflection also reminded me of the last time I was in here. My fingertips caressed my lips and when I closed my eyes, I could almost feel the pressure of Nick’s mouth on mine, rough yet gentle all at the same time. Hard to believe that was just two hours ago. After that heart-stopping kiss, my crazy grin was so wide I could’ve played back-up for the Joker in Batman.
Bringing myself out of that beautiful La-La Land where Nick’s lips and arms never pulled away, I was half tempted to grab the flashlight under the counter, but again decided I’d rather be stealth in the darkness than draw attention to myself. Even if it meant putting my heart through another marathon and baring flushed cheeks. I gulped down half a glass of water and made my way around the counter, the thought of seeing Nick giving me the courage to face my demons yet again.
I smiled. I could already tell this journey would be easier than the last.
Movement out the corner of my eye locked my feet in place, the weight of my body stuck on my left leg, my right heel caught mid-air. It was like one of those horrible horror films where slow-motion kicked in, just in time to torture you. A man strutted down the sidewalk, a long drag of smoke smoothly rolling past his lips, scattered by the wind that swept it away quickly.
Him.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM! My heart had skipped the steady rise it gave me on the way to the diner and went from calm to hyperdrive in two seconds flat.
His dirty blond hair was long enough on top to get caught up in the wind, and it continually flowed like the waves on the ocean. His cheekbones were sharp and angled, his square chin almost chiseled, with a dimple dead center that most women probably swooned over.
But not me.
His rock hard muscles were probably a turn-on as well, but I saw them for what they really were – just another weapon to immobilize me against my will.
The way he walked with one hand in his pocket, the other cycling back and forth to his mouth to supply his urges with continual satisfaction, showed he was in no hurry to move. Reeking of confidence, he knew he’d get what he came here for. No matter what.
I inhaled a breath so sharply my throat and chest felt cut. Then I cringed and stumbled back, dropping to the floor, scurrying backwards until I rammed into a metal stool. It screeched roughly against the tiled floor before slamming into the counter wall.
Shit! Surely he heard that!
My lungs screamed for air as my will to breathe came to a dead stop. He acknowledged the sound, his head slightly shifting my way through the glass, the tilt of his face aimed directly at my spot in the darkness. The way the light cut down on his angled eyebrows shadowed his eyes.
Acute pain pierced my chest, burning my senses with a combination of fire and ice. My eyes fought their way open, but they were so desperate to close, so tired… Something weighed down my lower half, or rather someone. My head couldn’t move; everything so drugged and numb. Something blurred into my line of sight – a mop of hair, followed by dark, shadowed eyes. But it was the glint of metal that caught my gaze before my lids shut down once more.
His head tilted back, his path undeterred.
He’s screwing with me. I know he heard that. He’d turn and be on me any second, yet my feet wouldn’t budge, frozen to the ground in fear. Please, Megan… Run! My shoulders rocked first, perhaps because they were close enough to get my brain’s urgent message to move before it became convoluted and undecipherable like the rest of my body seemed to think it was. My lungs reactivated but their pace rivaled my frantic heart. Trembling, it took three attempts to rise, my limbs so shaky they barely supported my weight anymore.