Cursed [Book 1] ✔

Chapter 11.2: Is That a...Horse?

Alone in my mother's attic, I panted in exertion, my large belly rising and falling with every breath.

Perspiration cast a damp sheen over my body. Rest didn't slow my breathing, or the intensity of my deep stare. If anything, as the time passed, my breath only quickened. My patience built, waiting to be released.

I positioned into a crouch. One deep breath later, I leapt up and sprinted down the aisle of the attic. Even at eight months pregnant, I ran with grace and purpose learned from daily running sessions. Upon reaching the end of the attic, I leapt from the open window. I didn't close my eyes because I wasn't afraid. Stars and silver moon glittered around me as my body spun to the Earth.

Before impact, regret flashed for Rafe and the future we could have had together, but mostly for my mother. Our entire family had met with tragedy, and it was my turn.

I was ready to meet death, ready to meet the crush of my bones and body, and then hopefully, a blissful darkness where none existed but myself. Being caught in a pair of strong arms ruined all of that.

My joints were jolted as I was plucked from the sky, but not nearly as much of a jolt as I would have met if my descent had continued. The physical and emotional stress of the fall drained me of the adrenaline I had burned a few seconds before.

"It's okay. I've got you."

I registered the familiar voice. "Rafe? How did you...?"

He was carrying me, running swiftly, my body bouncing in rhythm to the sound of hooves. Hooves?

Voice fading along with my consciousness, I asked, "Why do I smell horse?"

I saw stars, finally.

* * * * *

I awoke to more darkness. The black was so complete that I rubbed my eyes to make sure I had woken up. Yup. Still alive. I groped around for a light switch, but a stronger arm ended my search.

"Don't. You need to rest."

Rest. Rafe's words brought with them a flood of memories.

Falling.

Rafe.

I turned over in the bed to face him."You caught me. How?"

Rafe laughed without humor. "Sweetheart, you passed out. I found you in the attic, hyperventilating and talking gibberish."

I recalled the descent...with my back to the pavement, the canopy of stars had been too beautiful to imagine.

"What? No. I jumped."

Rafe scoffed. "If by jumping, you mean collapsing on the attic floor, then yes, you did." He sighed. "After I found you, I called your doctor, but she didn't answer. So I brought you home, to sleep."

His version of what happened sounded a lot more plausible than mine. There was no earthly way he could have caught me had I jumped. No way at all.

Like he had said, I must've passed out, and dreamed I had jumped.

If that had been a dream, then maybe...

"Mom!" I bolted upright, struggling to roll out of bed.

I was again strong-armed, but I slapped him away. "I need to see her! Where is she?"

"She's not here!" I heard the words from far away, and he had to repeat them three more times before the message registered.

"But---but, she was dead. That's why I tried to---" I hesitated, "kill myself."