That night, Ash had the same set of dreams, all of them about something awful happening to Merc.
She wanted to not care. Really she did. Merc was a freaking saint, apparently. He certainly did not need her. And he’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want her.
She had to move on.
And as soon as she made that resolution, a red glow poured into her room around her blackout curtains. She didn’t get up. She was still too wrecked from her dreams to face that weird guy again.
He is yours. You cannot move on.
Okay. She had to still be dreaming. No way could that guy know what she’d just told herself. No way.
Desperate to get her mind off Merc and Colombia, Ash went into her boss’s office the next morning. Business was booming at their construction supply company. She hoped taking on a few more accounts would keep her too busy to think about anything but work.
He happily loaded her up, so much so that she had to work the weekend getting the new accounts cleaned up in the system.
Over the next week, between the hefty workload and her long workouts, she had an excuse to ditch her friends. She knew it was rotten of her, and she felt guilty as hell, but she was doing everything in her power to get her head on straight. She didn’t want to face them until she felt more grounded.
A little more work, a little more time, she’d get there. She could laugh with them when they teased her about the miracles of Valle de Lágrimas.
God, she just hoped neither of them brought up Merc when they did finally get together next.
A text buzzed Ashlyn’s phone. It was Kiera, wondering if Ash could sneak out for a quick coffee.
What time and where? Ash texted back.
Hodah’s. 10:30, Kiera answered.
See you there!
Hodah’s was a coffee shop favored by the college set just a couple of blocks down from Ash’s office. Coffee was good there and sandwiches were cheap. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too crowded this morning. When Kiera interrupted work for a social call, something serious was about to go down; those calls were never something Ash ignored—even when she’d been practicing avoidance.
The weather that April had so far been mercurial, brilliant sun then deep gray clouds, both with a persistent stiff breeze. The clouds broke just then. Ash lifted her face to feel the sun’s warmth…and pretended Merc was walking beside her.
She couldn’t help it. He just slipped into her mind. The truth was that she’d never been able to get him fully out of her there.
What a ridiculous thing, having an imaginary lover now, at her age, but the illusion provided a small bit of comfort. It didn’t hurt him, since he wasn’t ever going to know, and she wasn’t ever going to see him again. And if it eased her mind, what was the harm?
Concentrating on her imaginary friend as she walked, she could almost feel him there, right next to her. She looked up at the space she pretended he occupied. He seemed so real, on the public sidewalk, in the brilliant sun and fleeting shadows. She felt a little less alone calling him to her, the hero of the village, the vanquisher of evil.
She felt his imaginary hand take hers, his palm warm, his grip strong. She looked down at her empty hand, almost seeing the heavy veining of his hand.
She was losing her ever-loving mind.
When she reached the café, she pushed away all thoughts of Merc as she looked around for Kiera. Her friend was waving from a corner table. Two cardboard cups sat in front of her. Kiera stood to hug her. Ash couldn’t help but hold her too long—really just seconds too much, but enough to be noticed.
Kiera gave her a searching look when they parted. “I’m glad you could come.”
“Better now than later today. Things are still crazy at work, so I’ll probably be tied up for a while.”
Kiera nodded at the cup in front of Ash. “I ordered your regular.”
“Thanks.”
“You’ll have to let me know how it compares to fresh coffee-plantation brews.”
Coffee. Jungles. Valle de Lágrimas.
Merc.
“Ash—I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?”
“I feel that you’re in distress, and I haven’t made it easy for you to talk about Colombia. Merc. Any of it. Summer and I are worried about you.”
“It’s not your fault, Kiera. I don’t know what to say. Really, there’s nothing to talk about. I’ve just taken on a double load at work, so my mind is a little preoccupied.”
“Maybe you should tell Sam about what happened.”
“About Colombia?” Ash shook her head. “I can’t. I went rogue. Valle de Lágrimas wasn’t on his itinerary for my trip. We talked about it before I left, and I told him I wouldn’t go there.”
“Since when have you ever stuck with someone else’s plan for you?”
Ash didn’t answer, but couldn’t ignore Kiera’s long, searching look. She sighed. Damn Kiera, anyway. “I can’t get Merc out of my mind.”
Her friend nodded. “I still think you were given some psychoactive chemicals, leaving you more in touch with your true desires. Maybe your preoccupation with him is you talking to you about what you actually want. Especially since Summer found Sam.”
Ash stared into Kiera’s beautiful brown eyes. “Maybe. That makes about as much sense as anything.”
“Anyway, that’s it. I just wanted you to know Summer and I are here for you. Talk to her, to me, but reach out if you need us.”
Ash woke early a few days later. Her attempts to lose herself in the stacks of extra work at the office hadn’t had the desired effect. She wasn’t so worn out she’d have a deep, dreamless sleep. It just worsened her stress and made the nightmares stronger.
Last night’s dreams of Merc in trouble in Valle de Lágrimas were the worst she’d yet had. Things were escalating. She’d gotten up at three a.m. and stayed up so that she wouldn’t risk falling back asleep and seeing him in more pain.
At seven-thirty a.m., she called Summer. “Sum—I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything. What’s up, Ash? You don’t usually call before work.”
Ash fought tears. Her only relationship with Merc had ended the day it started. He didn’t want to talk to her on a good day—he certainly wasn’t going to want to chat with a hysterical her.
“Can you take your phone over to Merc? I don’t have his number. I need to talk to him.”
The pause made Ash worried Summer was going to say no.
“He’s not here.”
“Where is he?” Again that pause. “Summer—I need to know. I need to talk to him.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been having nightmares about him. Something’s not right.”
“I’ll talk to Sam. Better yet, you come out and talk to Sam.”
“Merc’s in Valle de Lágrimas again, isn’t he?”
“Honestly, Ash, I don’t know for sure. I will ask.”
“Never mind.” Ash hung up. She did a quick change into a slouchy sweater and jeans, brushed her teeth, threw her unbrushed hair in a clip, and left for the office.
How long was she going to do this? How long was she going to keep pretending everything was normal when it wasn’t?