At the offset, the three guys appeared normal. But…there seemed to be an extra image superimposed on each of the three guys—almost as if they were wearing a human suit. But the ‘suit’ was just transparent enough to where I could make out a…another person underneath.
This had to be my imagination. This wasn’t real. People didn’t wear human body suits. I was just some foster kid getting sent into the middle of nowhere. I wasn’t on the set of some B-rated…
I blinked at the realistic images.
Okay, A-rated movie.
Was I hallucinating? Maybe Deena was right. Maybe those pain meds were affecting me more than I thought. If she thought they’d been making me hear things, maybe they were making me see things, too.
That was the best—and most likely—explanation I could come up with. And it made sense. But why did it have to happen now?
As the guys drew closer, the smell of barf clinging to my hair seemed to grow stronger. I fidgeted with my frizz, wishing for a hairband or scissors or anything to help me feel less gross as I took in their shirtless chests and dripping wet hair. It was impossible to miss the way their towels shifted across tanned, built shoulders as they sauntered closer—or the way their jeans rode their hips. A week ago, my jaw would have dropped like any other girl with a pulse. But a week ago, I wouldn’t have been distracted by hallucinations. Because that’s what these had to be.
“Hey, there!”
I jerked my head toward Deena, so absorbed in the social dumpster fire that my hallucinating, bruised, barf-smelling self was about to create that I hadn’t even noticed her stomping toward me. At least she looked the same—no ‘human body suit’ appearance there.
My caseworker brushed tight black spirals out of her eyes and smiled widely at the guys, raising her hand to flag them down. They lifted their hands in reply, veering to walk straight toward us.
I stared at her. Then at the guys. Then back at her again. It was like accompanying a child-abuse exhibit to her new foster home totally didn’t faze her—like it was socially normal. For her, maybe it was.
Deena beamed at them before shooting me a glance, quirking a brow as if to suggest I do the same.
My mouth tightened until my lips ached.
Deena smiled too sweetly at me and said under her breath, “Doom and gloom won’t get you friends, honey. Smile and act like you’re normal.”
“Uh, have you seen this face?” I muttered to her.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Stop feeling…. My dad almost killed me.”
“But he didn’t, and you’re alive. Now act like it.” She looked at me as I just stared at her.
I definitely needed a new caseworker.
When the guys got within a few feet, my gaze ping-ponged between the guy the on the right and the one on the left of the trio.
It’s just the painkillers, I told myself, trying to keep my expression smooth. But easier said than done when they both seemed to have some sort of creature hiding underneath their human exterior—something large, with spikey fur, leathery wings hanging out to the side as if to dry, and large, fanged teeth and claws.
I swallowed and fixed my gaze on the guy in the middle. At least I wasn’t hallucinating anything too bad with him… It was more like I was seeing double—an overlap where the other form was only slightly taller and a little thinner around the waist, but basically the same. The face, though…. There was something different about it that I couldn’t quite make out in the afternoon sun.
“Hey, ma’am.” To my relief, it was the one in the center that spoke—I didn’t have to look at the other two.
He had an almost lazy way of speaking, calm and self-assured, but the predatory way his muscles bunched and relaxed reminded me too much of the creatures at his side and put me further on edge—a feat I didn’t think possible.
“Need some help?” One of the guys with the winged, wolf-like hallucination snapped a wet towel at the other’s back. The middle guy rolled his eyes, but there was a trace of a smile there—right until his gaze landed on me. His brows lifted just a fraction. Either I was devastatingly beautiful or he could see my face despite the oak’s mottled shade.
I swallowed. I needed to get it together. This was all in my mind—just the drugs. I needed to pretend everything was fine—that I was normal.
At least I was good at pretending.
“Hey, ya’ll,” I drawled. I didn’t know what possessed me to copy Deena’s southern accent, but I decided to roll with it. All I needed now was blond locks and a hoop skirt. I tried to paste on my best I’m-sexy-and-I-know-it smirk, but I ruined it by wincing.
Then again, between the busted lip and the shiner that looked like one big bruise spreading from my forehead to my chin, I was already screwed in the first impressions department.
Two more sets of eyes snapped to me—as did the dark eyes of the creatures that laid beneath the surface.
But it was the human-like hallucination guy that talked—which was fine by me. Focusing on the more normal-looking one might just help me get out of this without looking insane.
“What happened to you?” His voice tightened, his eyes scanning me.
I shifted from foot to foot, not wanting to answer. But Deena was looking on, ready to run interference, and who knew what she’d say.
“There was an accident.” I flipped my hand in the air dismissively.
His eyes narrowed as he scanned my bruises. I knew he didn’t believe me. Though I really wasn’t lying. I ‘accidentally’ got my dad mad enough to beat the hell out of me.
“We’re trying to find someone who lives around here,” Deena jumped in. “This seems like a pretty small area—maybe you know Maeve Reid?”
He froze for a split second, his eyes darting to
