THE VISION IS A PLACE | ✓ {complete}

Chapter 17 : coyotes and moths

    Addison's arm feels heavy across my chest. It's still so dark outside. I don't know what time it is, but it must be close to morning because we're not alone in the loft anymore. Noah is asleep in all his clothes, with Aurora curled up under the sheets next to him, and Brandon is sprawled out on the floor, having not quite made it all the way to his mattress. The room smells heavy of perspired alcohol. I look to Evie's bed, expecting to see her there, but it's empty. Knowing Van, he probably put her to bed inside the camper last night before she could drink too much.

I roll to face Addison. There's a raw, stinging pain on my back where my skin brushes against the thin summer sheets. Memories of the hours before flood my mind. I move his hair from his eyes and think about how long it's gotten. He looks so peaceful in his sleep—so much younger. I study the blue veins of his eyelids and the shape of his slightly parted lips under the pale moonlight. The peaks of his cupid's bow are like sharp waves. There is a deep calm across his face that makes the fiery passion that was running through us just hours ago, feel like a dream. I've never wanted him so badly like that. I kept wanting more and more and he was always right there to take us deeper. I didn't feel the things that should have hurt. It was amazing, but I know it will haunt me. I know I'll want it again like that, but the only reason we can get to that place is because of the build up and the push and pull between us. It's an unhealthy predecessor, and if it hasn't taken us to our breaking point already, then it will.

I carefully slip out from under his arm and leave the bed. The joint he lit earlier is still resting on the windowsill. I pick it up, along with his matches and tee shirt, and tiptoe to the bathroom. 


The moon is bright enough that I can see my reflection clearly in the bathroom mirror. I undo what's left of my braid and gather the loose strands off my back, lifting them to look at my naked body in the reflection. When I turn, I find long, red scratches across my shoulder blades; his claw marks.I pull his shirt down over me and bring my face closer to the mirror. My lips feel swollen and my eyes are red. I take a minute to wash off my smeared makeup before going through the French doors to smoke on the balcony, in an attempt to numb myself before the thoughts come; the ones that I know have been waiting to find me again, like clockwork.

I sit down and exhale the thick smoke while listening to the coyotes howling off in the distance, celebrating a kill. The night is dark except for the moon, now muted by the passing clouds that appear surreally white. Faint red embers still glow down at the fire pit.

It's such a still night. So still, that the sound of something dragging through the grass becomes the centrepiece.

Something is moving out there.

I stare into the darkness and wait for my pupils to dilate enough to see what it is. Eventually, two shapes emerge. They're walking up to the house.

I can't figure out who it is. One is tall and the other isn't. It's not until I hear their voices does it click.

I scramble to put out the joint, hoping they haven't spotted me. I stay perfectly still, watching as they come up through the gate. I can see down to them through the gaps between the deck boards, as they cross the porch and stop in front of the backdoor. It's clear neither of them have been to bed yet. I feel wrong for watching, but my curiosity overrides it. I just pray they don't look up.

"You going to be okay?" asks Heath, in a low, gravelly voice.

She looks like she's been crying. He smooths her hair.

"I thought you wanted me," she says, so quietly that it's barely audible.

"Evie, look at me," his whispers. "You're stronger than this."