Chapter 487
Training was a no go the next day. My alarm went off, and I stopped it without opening my eyes, using my powers, and then buried my head back underneath the pillow. Sleep had been fleeting, and I’d tossed and turned most of the night, thinking about the missing people, the Vampires, whether or not I should contact Cadence, my fights with Brandon. And Alex.
So when I finally got up around 10:00, I had a lot of missed messages on my IAC from my friends checking on me. Aurora wanted to make sure I was okay since I hadn’t gone to the gym. On Saturdays, she just works with the newer people, or the ones who really need it, and those aren’t always the same people. She usually only has a handful of recruits, but I think she likes it when I’m there because we can laugh and joke around a little while the others are working out. I wasn’t in any mood to cut up with her at the moment.
I told her I was fine. Told all of my friends hey and I’d chat later, and then I made myself a protein shake and dropped onto the couch, the first set of my notes staring up at me from the coffee table. I shook my head wondering how in the world our team could just ignore all of this when the numbers were so very real. The whole thing made me angry. I wished I had gone to the gym so that I could get some of my aggression out.
Then my eyes flickered over to my newest acquisition. I didn’t need to go to the gym to get my aggression out. I had a perfectly good treadmill sitting across the room from me. Before I went to hang out with any of my buddies who just didn’t seem to understand what it’s like to be in the head of a man desperately looking for his wife, I would need to get in a few dozen miles.
I changed into workout clothes, got my earbuds, and found my favorite new band on Spotify. If you’re ever in the mood to tear a room apart or punch something really hard for a couple of hours, I suggest you listen to some Heavy Young Heathens. I will warn you, though, some of the lyrics are not for minors.
When I am on the treadmill, my mind has the opportunity to go wherever it likes. Most of the time, I’m not really thinking about anything in particular, just listening to my music and feeling the oxygen whoosh in and out of my lungs. Sometimes, I try to reach out to other Vampires, to see if they have any insight into what might be going on in the world. Other times, I relive memories, usually ones I’d rather not think about when I have other stuff going on.
Today, I refused to think about my failures the night before. I tried to stay focused on my feet hitting the fake pavement, on my speed, on the distance I’d gone. It was hard. I felt like I needed a do-over, like I needed to demand that Hannah listen to me. In the back of my mind, I kept hearing that little voice of doubt, though, the one that whispers, “You can’t do this. Why bother?” And I was considering giving in to it. After all, I am but one small girl, and they are the mighty, mighty LIGHTS team.
Messages popped up from time to time. I answered most of them with my standard “Running” which was enough for most of my friends to leave me alone. And then, when I was about sixty miles into my run, a bombardment of flickering red lights in the corner of my eye caught my attention. It was impossible to ignore. They came in so quickly, it was alarming. I couldn’t even read them they were so fast. It was the last one, though, the one that stayed open in my IAC that gave me pause. “Open your door!”
I kept running, though I was cognizant of the fact that my door was vibrating from the pounding it was taking on the other side. Why in the world was Christian Henry trying to beat my door down?
It didn’t make any sense, and I wanted to ignore it. I had literally ripped his face off a few weeks ago. Last night at the meeting, he hadn’t said a word to me about my plan, not supportive or otherwise. Why would he show up here, now, like a guy at a one-stalled, occupied Taco Bell bathroom trying to get into my apartment?
I finally decided my poor door couldn’t take it anymore, and I’d run far enough for one day. “Why is Christian at my door?” I muttered as I switched the treadmill off and pulled my earbuds out, tossing them onto the little cutout on the top of the treadmill next to my phone and my water. He was still pounding away, like he hadn’t just heard me stop the machine, and I was really starting to get irritated.
I was about two steps from the door when he banged on it so hard, I felt my teeth vibrating. “You know I’m coming, idiot!” I yelled, not caring if I was being rude to him. “You heard the treadmill stop, didn’t you?”
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t still ignoring me!” he shouted back through the thick wood.
He had a point. I cracked the door and mumbled, “I’d be stupid not to.” He stared back at me, his eyes narrowed. “What do you want?” I was in no mood to put up with him or anyone else who wanted to bother me right now.
“What? No hello? No good morning? No come on in and make yourself at home?”
I knew he was being sarcastic, but I was contemplating slamming the door in his face. I glanced at it, and he must’ve seen my intention because he slid his giant boot over the threshold. Undeterred, I reminded him, “I could still slam it on you.”
