Page 65 of Conjure

A woman’s haunted voice.

I grow still, my hair floating in the water.

Something is moving closer, barely visible in the pitch black.

A splash of white.

A halo of brown hair that shifts backward with the next movement.

Through the darkness below, a woman rushes at me. My mouth flies open, and water floods my lungs. I scream, thrashing and clawing?—

I wake with a sharp inhale, nestled in Dominic’s arms. My heart won’t stop racing, so I scoot out from beneath his arms, careful not to wake him. He will punish me for sneaking out on him again, but I need fresh air. Besides, I’m not running away from him this time; I just need a moment alone.

After throwing on one of Dominic’s T-shirts and a pair of denim shorts, I put on flip-flops, tie my hair up, and leave the house.

I close the door quietly, greeted by the gentle sound of rain. After weeks of intense heat, the drop in temperature is a welcome change.

Standing beneath the awning, I breathe in the fresh scent while watching the rain puddle in the overgrown grass. As I reach out, droplets of lukewarm rainwater hit my palm.

Struck with the sudden urge to let it bathe me, I descend the porch steps and tip my head back. My eyes close as I let the rain smatter against my face and wash away my worries. It soaks through my clothes in mere minutes. I can’t hold back a smile.

This is what freedom feels like.

Summer rain.

I sense someone watching me, and my eyes fly open on a gasp. The axe dangles from his mud-streaked fingers, and his dark hair lies plastered to his forehead. A raindrop clings to his nose, about to fall, and his flannel shirt molds to his broad chest.

When he remains silent, framed by the fir trees at the edge of the lawn, I gesture to the axe in his hand. “Do you carry that thing everywhere?”

His grip tightens on the wooden handle, though he says nothing.

“I would invite you in, but…” My boyfriend? Is that what he is? “Myfriendwould probably kill you.” Though there’s a hint of laughter in my voice, I mean every word. Dominic is unhinged.

“Hello?” I wave a hand in his face when he stays mute. “Are you going to say anything?”

The raindrop on his nose finally gives up the fight and falls to the ground, and another takes its place, hanging precariously.

Losing patience, I roll my eyes and walk past him. But before I’ve taken more than three steps, his voice rings out.

“Don’t enter the woods.”

My steps falter, and I look over my shoulder. “So, he speaks.” Strands of grass tickle my bare ankles as I turn fully. “And why shouldn’t I enter the woods? What’s so dangerous about the trees?”

He looks past me, his muscles shifting inside his wet shirt. “Stay out of the woods.”

Confused, I follow his line of sight as a gentle breeze moves through the trees, swaying their branches.

“But you just came from there—” I fall silent when I look back in time to see him disappear around the corner. “Where are you going?” I chase after him, stepping in puddles and wiping rainwater out of my eyes.

Where the hell is he going?

Turning the corner, I come to a stumbling halt.

He’s gone.

I scan the lawn and the weathered treehouse at the back of the property. A rusty doll’s pram lies on its side, and the sight of it, with the muted red of the sun-bleached fabric, sends a feeling of unease trickling through me.

“Where did you go this morning?” Dominic asks when he enters the kitchen, freshly showered, dressed in shorts and a navy T-shirt. He looks effortlessly handsome. I struggle not to sneak peeks at him as he settles beside me and plays with his Zippo.