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But he wasn’t he here. His memory wasn’t even a ghost anymore.
No waves for me tonight, only the moonlight and a run. I quickened my pace on the boardwalk.
Over the past few years, the dreams had gotten worse, my dreams of the gray-eyed man. They felt like such a betrayal to Jason, to crave another man, even if he was only a phantom. The dreams used to only be occasional, maybe only once a month, or every few weeks, while I slept. At first, they were foggy, and hard to remember when I woke up, but now I swore I could see the gray-eyed man every time I closed my eyes. This was the first dream during the day, while sober.
I knew what his kiss would taste like.
My feet paused on the sidewalk.
As if he was standing in front of me, my fingertips twitched, needing to trace the outline of the mark on his chest in the night air. He felt real. Powerful and tangible.
A small tingle of a spark slid down my neck. It buzzed over my chest and tightened my stomach in a warm glow.
Stop it!
The electricity was a weird bonus, attaching itself to every dream. It must be some part of my brain making me hallucinate. That was the only scientific explanation I could find on the internet.
My feet padded on the sand-covered concrete, leading me past the pier, further toward the cliffs. The smell of saltwater became tinged with putrid grease. I turned my nose away from the water. An acidic tang slicked over my tongue. The weight of the air became heavy on my shoulders. I took another slow step forward.
I paused and craned my neck to look around the shoreline. No one was on the path tonight. The smell of saltwater vanished under the surge of thick tar.
That’s not right.
The smell was unbearable, excruciating to my mouth, to my nose, to my ears—
Shrieks pierced the air.
The air was too thick to breathe in. Beads of sweat trickled down the hollow of my throat. The sounds were impossible to ignore. I cupped my ears, crumpling away from the cries.
Jerking my head around, I concentrated on the direction of the wailing, squinting into the reverberations, and began running toward the howls filling the air.
What are you doing?
My legs jolted to a stop.
The cries became louder, consuming the shore, vibrating my chest.
Run away, you moron! You don’t know what’s out there.
Wrenching around, I regained control of my body and raced back toward the pier, away from the shrieks clawing at my mind.
It’s just in your head. It’s not real. It can’t be real.
And yet my heart felt the panic, the rage, and the truth. The horrifying cries were all too familiar. They were calling to me, seeking something forbidden rooted deep inside.
