Never Look Back (Paranormal Huntress Series Book 1) by May W.J

Author:May, W.J. [May, W.J.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2017-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The sand compressed inside the rubber bags as the sound of the pounding reverberated in the basement again and again. Atlanta grunted as anger oozed out of her like oxygen escaping. She couldn’t stop panting or sweating; she ignored her lungs’ cry for more air and her body’s feeling of exhaustion. She kicked another sandbag and forced her eyes to stay open. Sweat sucked into her crimson red suit and she knew her hair had gone wild from the constant spinning and practice attacks.

She turned towards the bars and poles that hung horizontally and vertically around the vast basement, and leapt from one pole to the other, her body in perfect rhythm with her mind’s commands. Strands of her brown hair fell on her forehead as she dangled upside-down from a pole in the corner. The fluorescent lights beamed in hues of white and light blue, casting a weird light against her shadow.

It was well after midnight when James had come down and started altering the mechanics of the bike. His brow was furrowed in concentration and Atlanta can see how his muscles flexed as he worked, as if he were focusing all his feelings into action. He was working on a table that had a bow arched and framed with silver. The arrows had a sharp marble edge on top of them that glowed with green light, different from any light that emerged from the heart of a stone.

He’s trying too hard, Atlanta thought as she watched him. He’s going to lose it.

James suddenly slammed his hands on the table, slightly, as if to make sure he would save up some of his anger for later. He frowned and growled in frustration. His eyes closed as sweat rolled down his face, and he swept away a tear that had tried to escape. He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, and when he caught her watching he turned and went back to work.

Atlanta felt a shudder race through her. Her uncle was always composed; seeing him like this brought out a vulnerability she wasn’t accustomed to. He was always her rock when the world stopped making sense, and for the first time in forever she caught glimpse of what it meant for the both of them to be overwhelmed.

We need to be strong for each other. Somehow. She closed her eyes and listened to the slightest sounds around her: the clanking of tools, the whistling wind outside, the creaks of the house resting. An image of Ryan formed behind her closed lids, and it took every ounce of strength not to falter. She missed him. A lot.

“Atlanta?”

She opened her eyes and gazed at her uncle. There was a moment of silence before she pulled her upper body upwards and her arms waved to touch her feet. She held onto the bar and slid her legs until her feet softly touched the floor.

Ever since her parents died, Atlanta’s reaction to being emotionally overwhelmed in any way was one of two mechanisms.

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