Black Sheep (25 page)

Read Black Sheep Online

Authors: Tabatha Vargo

BOOK: Black Sheep
11.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

 

Please consider leaving a review for
Black Sheep
on Amazon! From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for reading! MWAH!

 

You can keep up to date with my upcoming releases, reveals, teasers, and giveaways on my website
www.tabathavargo.blogspot.com

 

If you’d like to subscribe to be on my mailing list, send me an email to
[email protected]
with “Mailing List” in the subject.

 

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 

 

 

I want to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who took the time to read this book. My readers make my world go ‘round and I’m grateful for each and every one of you. Hopefully you loved Black Sheep as much I loved writing it.

Thank you to my wonderful editor Jenny Sims from Editing4Indies. She makes this entire process easier, and I love working with her. I hand over a hot mess, and she gives me back gold. For that, I’m forever grateful. I adore you, sweet woman!

To Nadege, who always leaves my work looking pretty and professional… thank you. I’m so glad we have a fabulous working relationship and I’m blessed to call you my friend. You’re a formatting goddess!

To my assistant Julie, we’re the best team ever. I love you, woman. The end!

To my family: I miss a lot of time with you guys when I’m at work. The house isn’t always clean, and dinner isn’t always done, but you pick up the slack and make it possible for me to escape into my books. Everything I do, I do it for you guys… period. Thank you for loving me no matter what and for being there to hold me together when I feel like I’m falling apart. 

I really hope I didn’t miss anyone, but if I did … THANK YOU!

 

 

 

Melissa Andrea

(Amazon link)

The Edge of Darkness

 

 

            
 
It happened so fast and not like people thought or said it did.

My heart raced as I stood off to the side of the stage waiting for my name to be called. I bit my lip, clinging to the black curtain and peeking out at the audience.

My life didn’t flash before my eyes.

It was a packed house, not an empty seat in the entire place. My eyes scanned the crowd until I was able to spot her.

There were no images of blissful times, no final memories to cherish before I died.

She was looking in my direction, but I knew she couldn

t see me within the shadows. It didn

t matter. Just seeing my mother calmed my racing heart and I was able to breathe again.

No, I wasn’t that lucky. I witnessed everything in slow, horrifying detail.

The lights were dim and the crowd was hushed as the music came to a measured end. I took a step back, pressing my heels together, rising and squatting gracefully.

I was jerked forward, my seat belt cutting painfully into my body before I was slammed back.

The melody finally drifted to an end and the dancer came running off stage. She smiled at me and whispered

Good luck,

before disappearing into the darkness.

Thick, jagged pieces of glass shattered into a million tiny crystals in front of me.

              I heard the cool voice of the announcer as she introduced me to the crowd. I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and scolded my nerves as I suppressed the urge to throw up.

Before I could block my face, their sharp edges cut into my skin.

I could do this; I knew I could. Dancing was something I

d done since I was eight months old and refused to walk any other way but on the tips of my toes.

Tires squealed and the world spun as we flipped and rolled. This time there was no safety from my seatbelt as the buckle snapped, throwing me from my seat.

I could feel my adrenaline pumping as confidence began to flow through my system. I took form, counted to three, and spun onto the stage.

Metal screeched across the road, melting and sparking against the pavement.

Positioning my arms above my head, I extended my leg and pointed my foot out. When the music lifted I spun around, lifting on my toes and kicking my leg into the air.

The smell of gasoline, burnt rubber, and blood mixed and stung my nose.

I wanted Julliard to be proud they chose me. I may have only been fifteen, but I was a damn good dancer. My performance only lasted the length of the four minute song I

d chosen, but I could have spent hours on the stage had they let me.

             
Turning, I searched for her. I needed that calm that only she could provide. I tried to focus on her face, but my vision blurred.

The tempo changed and I recognized the dramatic ending for what it was and my mom

s words lingered in the back of my mind—

Blow their minds, Araya. Dance like it

s the last time
…”
And that

s exactly what I did.

I danced for the last time.

Our screams were the last thing I heard.

 

 

My head pounded with each whispered word that drifted through the  never-ending black fog.

              Everything felt heavy. My arms and legs felt weighed down and anchored to

where was I? I couldn

t wiggle my fingers, much less move anything else. As bad as I wanted to, the simple task of opening my eyelids was something I couldn

t manage.

             

Unfortunately, we couldn

t contain the infection in time and it has spread
…”

              I didn

t recognize the low voice hidden in the shadows. It was deep and male as his words flowed from the black and swirled around my head.

Infection? Spread? Couldn’t contain? Where was I and how long had I been here?

             

What does that mean exactly?

I knew that voice. I could never forget the easy sweep of her cold tone. It was my Aunt Nina. I strained my ears to hear the one voice that would make everything better—my mother

s.


I

m afraid it

s not good news
…”

The male voice got deeper; it seemed to dip lower at the end of each sentence and I knew I was missing pieces, important pieces, of their conversation. I couldn

t make sense of what was going on, but a tiny pull deep in my stomach told me my life would never be the same.


She

ll never dance again.

She wasn

t fazed. I wanted to focus on what that meant, but her words stole my attention.


How long before she wakes up? The arrangements for my sister have already been made.

My aunt

s voice was cold—it was
always
cold—but that wasn

t what sent an icy chill through my body.
Arrangements? What arrangements?
There was a loud buzzing in my ears and my chest began to hurt, and as I listened to the rest of their conversation, the knot in my stomach grew.


She

s already showing signs of coming to. It

s just a matter of time now.

I wanted to sit up and scream at them, tell them I was awake—that I was alive, but I couldn

t form the words, and the deep voice was still talking.


When she does wake, the trauma of realizing what happened is going to be severe. I don

t know that it will be best to tell her right away,

Fear choked me. Panic took over my limp, heavy body and I wanted to demand they tell me whatever it was they weren

t saying out loud. And then the man spoke again and this time I understood every word and their very meaning stabbed into my chest and snatched all my air away.


Adding the news of her mother

s death will only
…”

The world spun away from me and the blackness around me moved in and began to consume my thoughts. His words faded behind the fierce pounding in my ears. My fingers gripped something soft, and I felt my body strain against the pain exploding in my chest.


Doctor!

another voice shouted in panic.

Her heart rate is out of control.

Fingers grabbed and groped at me as frantic voices issued commands all around me and I felt myself being jerked back. Icy air ran up my stomach as they pulled whatever was keeping me warm away. Something smooth and cold stung my bare skin.


CLEAR!

My body pulsated as an electric current ran through my system. I felt nothing. I was numb from head to toe and his words echoed through my head over and over as I let the darkness consume me.

My mother is dead.

I can

t dance.

My mother is dead.

Other books

A Bigamist's Daughter by Alice McDermott
Journal From Ellipsia: A Novel by Hortense Calisher
Twice the Temptation by Suzanne Enoch
At the Corner of King Street by Mary Ellen Taylor
Side Jobs by Jim Butcher
Rosalie's Player by Ella Jade
Leaving Before the Rains Come by Fuller, Alexandra
Retrato en sangre by John Katzenbach
The Delaware Canal by Marie Murphy Duess