I mean is, how would you ever expect Nikki to return to a normal world after being swept off her feet by an angel who’s determined to make every moment she spends with him a breathtaking adventure?”
He didn’t like the feeling that settled in his stomach, and he wanted out of this conversation. But he stayed.
Winter went on. “The dolphins, the faith ball. Every second she spends with you is one spectacular moment followed by another. You’ve made sure of that, but you can’t keep it up, not even for one lifetime. Sooner or later the shiny new penny looks just like all the others. And where does that leave you?”
He laughed without humor. “Suddenly, you’re worried about me?”
“I’ve been worried about you all along. Because one day Nikki will grow old and die. But you, Raven … Unless you’re murdered, you’ll have until the end of days to remember what it felt like to not be the new toy anymore.”
What did Winter know about who he was? Nothing. She barely knew him.
“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just speaking from experience. I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t honest about it. Nikki’s a mistake, Raven. Don’t turn it into a tragedy.”
With that she walked away.
Raven pressed his lips together hard, trying to reject the words she’d said, but they refused to be silenced. They flew through his mind, bouncing off one another, each accusation growing as the collisions increased.
Nikki isn’t a mistake. Nikki is freedom, and possibly my only chance to be content.
The roll of the waves had increased as the wind shifted direction. At least that’s what she is right now. But what about later? When the new wore off? How would she feel about him then? He thrived on the moment, but what happened when the moment lost its charm? Was there anything, any lasting thing that would hold Nikki’s attention and affection?
Something tingled in his nose. Raven’s hands clamped into fists as he stared up at the stars through watery eyes. “This is why you’re a loner,” he mumbled. “Anything else is just too painful.”
Chapter 9
Nikki woke with sweat pouring off her body. On instinct, she grabbed the sketchpad and charcoal pencil on the table beside her bunk, then scooted on the bed into a dim streak of light coming in from the porthole. The room was a suffocating mix of hot air and Glimmer’s perfume; she worried she might vomit, but she forced down the pressure in her throat and put the pencil to her sketchpad. Her hands were trembling, making the first few strokes jerky and uneven. Slick with perspiration, her arm stuck to the pad while she drew. But as the lines took shape, her breathing slowed to a normal rate. She swiped her brow with her free hand, not wanting sweat to run into her eyes and obscure her view of the drawing. For days she’d felt something strange happening in her mind. Now, the answers lay in the lines and angles forming on the page.
The small round window was over her shoulder, but taking the time to open it for some needed airflow would slow her progress. She noticed the room was empty, and wished the girls had left the door open even a crack—a quick glance up confirmed it was closed tight. Nikki marveled at all that fresh air above the ceiling that had no inlet to the room.
The entire bed was wet from her fevered dream. A nightmare of something horrible. She remembered falling, a giant metal music box slipping and then crashing. Why is it so hot in here? Nikki swiped her forehead and focused on the picture. She ignored the stale, suffocating air.
A mass of mangled lines originated at one corner of the page. Tracks stretched from them, crisscrossed rails intersecting like a ladder. Train tracks!
The realization fueled her, though her hand ached from the tight grip and intense force behind each line. Within minutes a train began to take shape beneath her purposeful strokes. As the sketch became clear, her apprehension grew. Short puffs of air became
He didn’t like the feeling that settled in his stomach, and he wanted out of this conversation. But he stayed.
Winter went on. “The dolphins, the faith ball. Every second she spends with you is one spectacular moment followed by another. You’ve made sure of that, but you can’t keep it up, not even for one lifetime. Sooner or later the shiny new penny looks just like all the others. And where does that leave you?”
He laughed without humor. “Suddenly, you’re worried about me?”
“I’ve been worried about you all along. Because one day Nikki will grow old and die. But you, Raven … Unless you’re murdered, you’ll have until the end of days to remember what it felt like to not be the new toy anymore.”
What did Winter know about who he was? Nothing. She barely knew him.
“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just speaking from experience. I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t honest about it. Nikki’s a mistake, Raven. Don’t turn it into a tragedy.”
With that she walked away.
Raven pressed his lips together hard, trying to reject the words she’d said, but they refused to be silenced. They flew through his mind, bouncing off one another, each accusation growing as the collisions increased.
Nikki isn’t a mistake. Nikki is freedom, and possibly my only chance to be content.
The roll of the waves had increased as the wind shifted direction. At least that’s what she is right now. But what about later? When the new wore off? How would she feel about him then? He thrived on the moment, but what happened when the moment lost its charm? Was there anything, any lasting thing that would hold Nikki’s attention and affection?
Something tingled in his nose. Raven’s hands clamped into fists as he stared up at the stars through watery eyes. “This is why you’re a loner,” he mumbled. “Anything else is just too painful.”
Chapter 9
Nikki woke with sweat pouring off her body. On instinct, she grabbed the sketchpad and charcoal pencil on the table beside her bunk, then scooted on the bed into a dim streak of light coming in from the porthole. The room was a suffocating mix of hot air and Glimmer’s perfume; she worried she might vomit, but she forced down the pressure in her throat and put the pencil to her sketchpad. Her hands were trembling, making the first few strokes jerky and uneven. Slick with perspiration, her arm stuck to the pad while she drew. But as the lines took shape, her breathing slowed to a normal rate. She swiped her brow with her free hand, not wanting sweat to run into her eyes and obscure her view of the drawing. For days she’d felt something strange happening in her mind. Now, the answers lay in the lines and angles forming on the page.
The small round window was over her shoulder, but taking the time to open it for some needed airflow would slow her progress. She noticed the room was empty, and wished the girls had left the door open even a crack—a quick glance up confirmed it was closed tight. Nikki marveled at all that fresh air above the ceiling that had no inlet to the room.
The entire bed was wet from her fevered dream. A nightmare of something horrible. She remembered falling, a giant metal music box slipping and then crashing. Why is it so hot in here? Nikki swiped her forehead and focused on the picture. She ignored the stale, suffocating air.
A mass of mangled lines originated at one corner of the page. Tracks stretched from them, crisscrossed rails intersecting like a ladder. Train tracks!
The realization fueled her, though her hand ached from the tight grip and intense force behind each line. Within minutes a train began to take shape beneath her purposeful strokes. As the sketch became clear, her apprehension grew. Short puffs of air became
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