Page 24 of Fear the Fall
The wooden beams overhead help to refocus my thoughts. They remind me of Zeke. It was he who transformed this hayloft into a livable home. From the polished exposed beams to the treated wood floors, this place has Zeke’s touch in every corner. So much thought and hard work went into transforming this space—for me.
The very bed I sleep on was handcrafted by the power angel, soon after I took ownership of the barn and surrounding property. It was Zeke who helped me arrange it all. Without him, I would’ve been lost in so many ways. He saved me.
That’s the difference between the two men. One used me at every turn for his own benefit. He took everything I offered. Zeke has only ever given of himself.
Throwing off the covers, I jump from bed, quickly dressing in my workout gear. First I need to work off some steam, and then I need to find Zeke. Today I’ll be training extra hard, just to attempt to wipe all thoughts of that dream away.
Thoughts of him away.
He who shall not be named was my downfall. He’s the entire reason I fell, and I’ll regret it for eternity. The worst part of it all? It was my decision; he never asked me to. I did that all on my own, and no matter how much time has passed, that truth never gets easier. Placing the blame solely on him does.
Lust is an evil bitch that’ll turn on you in an instant, leaving scars that may not be visible but last a lifetime, the pain never dulling.
I chug a bottled water and rip open a protein bar. Angel or no, hunger is still a thing, and this morning, I’m starving. I shove half the bar into my mouth and chew, trying to think of everything I want to accomplish today.
Trying to keep my mind from wandering to people and times I’d best not think about. Things that only stress me out and make me angry. I throw the remaining food in the trash can, no longer hungry, and go through my morning routine. It’s accomplished in record time, as the need to get out this loft is suffocating.
Clad in my black sports bra, black shorts, and black Nikes—basically my signature pissed-off look—I head toward the trail behind my loft. Popping in my earbuds, I turn the volume on high, desperate to drown out the residual noise caused by my dream.
I’m not moving as fast as I’d hoped. My powers are weakened from last night, which just manages to piss me off more. I’ll need to recharge before tonight if I want to rid the world of more demons. And I do. It’s my only mission in this new life.
I let the anger propel me forward on the dirt trail I’ve run for years. My arms pump and sweat beads on my forehead. It’s been unseasonably warm, but I won’t let it stop me from pushing myself. I need the burn. Anything to get my mind as far away from him as possible.
I make it a mile before my foot catches on an exposed root, nearly sending me to my knees. I stop in the middle of the path, arms coming up atop my head, bent over, breathing heavily, as treacherous tears stream down my face. All the pain and frustration comes to a head. I don’t want to think about the past, yet I can’t escape it. I throw my head back and scream, a guttural cry toward Heaven.
The sky opens up and rains down heavy droplets of water, soaking me through. Thunder shakes the earth, and I can’t help but feel it’s God’s way of punishing me for a dream I had no control over.
“What do you want from me?” I yell to whoever is listening, but there is nobody. There hasn’t been for some time. They all turned their backs the day I decided to trade in my wings for a chance at love.
My heaving breath is so loud that I almost miss the cracking of branches behind me. I still, wiping away the lingering tears, focusing my ethereal hearing on whatever or whoever is approaching.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something’s off. It’s the middle of the day, and even with the overcast it’s far too light for what I’m sensing. Whatever is approaching isn’t human and it isn’t exactly animal. It’s pure evil.
Another branch cracks right behind me.
I swing around, fists at the ready, but they’re caught midair by a wide-eyed Zeke.
“Calm down, killer.” He chuckles but stops short when he sees something on my face.
Fear.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, swiveling his head to take in the area.
My shoulders relax slightly, breathing coming under control as I process it was just Zeke.
“You scared me. I thought—”
“That someone was sneaking up on you?” he says, cutting me off.
“Yeah, I guess,” I kick at the dirt, sending pebbles racing across the ground, feeling foolish.
“You looked like you were having a moment,” he admits, brows creased in the center, worry evident in the way his lips pinch at the corners. “This isn’t about last night, right?”
My cheeks heat at the knowledge that he witnessed such a personal meltdown and at the memory of what we did. I blow out a breath. “No. Of course not. I—” I pause, searching his face for hints as to what he might know. There’s nothing there. He looks worried, but not angry. “Why did you leave this morning without waking me?”
“I wanted to get in a quick workout,” he says, motioning toward his running gear. “Did you miss me?” He grins, pulling me toward him.
“I’m all sweaty,” I protest, but it doesn’t stop him from bathing my neck in kisses. “Maybe we should go back inside?” I moan.