Gypsy

Chapter 28

·Zara·

Dawn is a faint blush on the horizon when I open my eyes and realize, sometime during the long night, I'd fallen asleep. My head is nestled against Adam's shoulder, while his is leaned back against the tower. His eyes are closed, his breathing steady, and I know he'd fallen asleep too. I pull away from him, more than a little self conscious by my accidental closeness to him.

I lean my head back and watch the sky, my mind blessedly blank for the moment. It had been in full banshee mode last night and I'm thankful its chaotic screaming has stopped. My memory of last night is patchy, but then that's how it always is when something freaks me out like that. It's not pleasant, not being able to remember stuff sometimes, but maybe that's for the best. What I do remember is more than enough.

I look past Adam's legs to my guitar lying on the other side, it's neck broken, it's top nearly as damaged. My throat tightens as I stare at it and I have to close my eyes. I take several deep breaths to calm the pounding of my broken heart. Why does life always have to be so unfair?

When I feel safe to open my eyes again, I tentatively reach over Adam and pick it up, then I settle what's left of it in my lap. As I run my fingers over the cool wood, the first tendril of rage flickers to life inside of me. I set it aside then reach for the railing in front of me and use it to pull myself to my feet.

I stand there a long moment, gripping the rail so hard my knuckles hurt. When I finally pull in a deep breath I let it out in a hoarse scream, so long and loud it makes my vocal chords hurt.

"Holy Christ! What the hell?" Adam scrambles to his feet behind me.

I ignore him as I take another long pull of the cool morning air before offering my voice to my heart once more. It uses my mouth to shatter the peaceful morning, and then there are hands on my shoulders. I try to shrug them off but Adam doesn't let go this time, instead turning me to face him before he drops them to his sides.

He studies me intently, his gaze terrified. I drop my head as my eyes fill with angry tears I don't want him to see.

"Shit, Zara, you just took ten years off my life. What happened?"

I shake my head, then bend down to pick up my guitar. I turn back to the railing and prepare myself to launch it, so that it can follow the same path as my tortured cries and shattered dreams have all gone.

"Zara, stop!" His big hands grab my guitar just before it earns its wings and he pulls it from my hands.

I turn and slam a fist into his chest. I follow it with another. "Give it back! It's mine!"

I hit him again and again, even as he drops my guitar to the catwalk. And then his arms are around me, pulling me against him, pinning my arms between us.

"Stop, Zara! Jesus, just stop!"

I struggle against him for a moment, trying to break free. And then I'm the one being beaten, only from the inside. What's left of my heart shatters against my ribs, then falls in molten drops from my eyes. I grip the front of Adam's shirt tightly in my fists and do what I never do: I cry.

It isn't the pretty crying you see in the movies, it isn't the type of crying that earns Oscar Awards. It's the loud, ugly crying of someone who's been broken one too many times, the kind that makes strangers look away and teenagers snicker behind their hands. It's ugly and raw, and it's all consuming.