Heartbeats and City Streets

Chapter Eleven

The roaring stopped as Megan was propelled into the room, thrown against the ground, and left scrambling to find her bearings. She winced as she looked at her raw hands, elbows, and ripped jeans. A gasp ricocheted around the room, and Megan's breath caught at the familiar tone. No! She wanted to believe that her ears were deceiving her, but she could recognise that voice in a crowd full of people. Her saviour. Her light. Her rock. A light bulb flicked on in her brain – the roaring. Oh no! Tears swam in Megan's eyes as realisation slammed into her like a freight train. She whimpered, shook her head in disbelief, and muttered curses.

Grasping at the dwindling courage inside her, she composed herself and took a deep breath. If this was happening, she had to be strong – for him. Now was the time to repay him for all the times when he was the rock in her life, when he dragged her kicking and screaming from the darkness and into the light when he was the one to hold her up when she was drowning, when he never gave up on her. She could do this – she could be his rock, his saviour. I will not let you down.

She pried her eyes open from the strength she gathered and kicked her body into moving. Slowly, she raised her head. Instantly, like a moth drawn to a flame, her eyes locked straight onto those deep brown eyes that brought an outstanding amount of warmth to her soul. They were more expansive than ever, and it was as though they were screaming at her – trying desperately to tell her something. She shuddered as her soul trembled and shook. Fear crept up her spine, travelled its way inside her body, possessing her, and wrapped its fingers around her heart, slowly and painfully squeezing it. With a hand covering her heart, she closed her eyes as a memory exploded in front of her like a firework – colourful and bright, a stark contrast to the trauma inside her.

Megan sighed as warmth flooded through her. The heat from the hot chocolate, cradled in both of her hands, reminded her of when her father would sweep her up in his arms and swing her around. Home – she felt as though she was as calm as she could ever be. She inhaled deeply, sighing as the aroma from her loved drink met her nostrils. Her nose winked in delight, and her forehead stretched in bliss. Megan, comatose from the hot chocolate, did not notice the drawn-out sound of the dull creaking coming from behind her.

Archer had quietly made his way across Megan's loft, tapping into his ninja skills by turning on his stealth mode. The closer he got to Megan, the more ideas reached his brain as to how he would scare her. He was broken out of his thoughts like glass breaking on the ground as the floorboards creaked below him. He halted and cringed. Due to Megan being lost in her hot chocolate, she did not notice the noise. Relief flooded through Archer, and he crept closer again. This time, he reached the back of the brown leather couch. Archer slowly came out and grasped the couch lightly, sensing any movement from Megan. He fired his shot once he was satisfied that she would not move.

Now tightly grasping the couch, Archer propelled his body over the couch, landing a hair breath away from Megan. She screeched like a banshee as she flailed her arms. The rug beneath her feet hissed as the drink fell onto it, creating a dark pool. Archer, holding his laugh in with a hand across his mouth, watched as the emotions passed across Megan's face. The shock was evident on her face when her eyes were wide – the surprise on her face was noticeable as they widened and even moved – the realisation on her face was the only preparation Archer needed for the anger that would fall upon her. Her eyes squinted, her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips formed a tight line.

Archer could not contain his laughter anymore. He erupted like a volcano, exploding over the couch and shaking it to the beat of his laughter. Megan was silent as she observed Archer. Her thoughts were murderous, and her eyes were laser beams. She was like a snake preparing to strike and kill its prey slowly and painfully. Archer should have known better than to mess with Megan when she was in her zone of comfort. The longer Archer laughed his heart out, the more Megan silently fumed. Archer had destroyed her peace; now, she was ready to kill him—an eye for an eye.