Palmetto Passion - Christina Benjamin

Chapter 1

Rowan

Smoke billowed in thick gray plumes around me as the remaining concrete blocks of the ramshackle buildings fell, brick by crumbled brick. The ringing in my ears was so intense I couldn’t see straight and the only thing I could hear was one single word repeated on a screaming loop.

Rachel! Rachel! Rachel!

I wasn’t sure if her name was tearing through my mind or my throat. Both ached as I tried to get to her, but my legs wouldn’t move and my arms refused to swing. It was like I was glued to the ground, gravity suddenly too strong to allow me to break free.

My throat clenched as I tried to breathe through the smoldering ash. I had to move. I had to find her.

I tried to get up again, the throbbing in my ears so painful my head swam. I wiped the stickiness from my forehead and instantly knew it was blood. That didn’t matter right now. The only thing that mattered was Rachel.

Her name replaced the rhythmic beat of my heart pounding frantically in my chest. It was enough to get me moving. Somehow, mustering all of my strength, I hurled myself forward through the smoke. I couldn’t see a thing but I reached out for her anyway, yelling her name. She had to be here. I was just with her. I was just . . . falling . . .

The world dropped out from under me and nothingness swallowed me whole before my body jerked awake, my back colliding with something solid as the churning shadows faded into the recesses of my haunted mind.

My eyes burst open, heart thrumming against my chest hard enough to bruise a rib. Dragging in shallow breaths, I looked wildly around only to find the moon mocking me as it glowed peacefully through sheer linen drapes. I tore off the sheets wrapped around my body like a cocoon, reality finally finding me.

I was home. It was just a dream. Though that thought offered little comfort and did nothing to stop the shuddering breaths rocking my body. I glanced up at the bed I’d fallen off of, taking in the familiarity of my childhood bedroom. I was safe, I reminded myself.

But she was not.

I collapsed on the rug beneath me and caught my breath while I waited for my heart rate to slow. With a grunt, I rolled over and shoved away the blankets wrapped around me so that I could sprawl on the safety of my bedroom floor. I closed my eyes one more time and counted to ten, forcing my tense muscles to relax. I dug my fingertips into the lush rug to root myself safely in South Carolina rather than the foreign country where my life—and my heart—was shattered.

The racing of my pulse finally eased and I pressed one hand over my bare chest, almost surprised to feel my heart still there. It’s been through so much, I wonder how the resilient muscle found the will to keep pumping when some days I wasn’t sure I should bother pressing on.

Had it really been a year since I moved back into my parents’ house in Bradford Cove?

It felt like days and decades all at once. Sometimes, it was like I’d never left on my Doctors Without Borders assignment, but most of the time, it was impossible to imagine the nightmares weren’t real. The invisible scars left on my soul reminded me daily that I had left South Carolina, and that not all of me had returned.

I’d been so bright-eyed and optimistic back then. Funny how things changed. Going to Venezuela was both the best and worst decision I’d ever made.

Things might’ve been different if I’d gone to another country instead. I might still be employed as a successful doctor traveling around the world saving lives instead of who I was now—a jobless and lost thirty-two-year-old living with his parents.

I’d never intended on moving back here for many reasons. But the one that plagued me currently was that it was impossible to be surreptitious in Bradford Cove. I didn’t know what I’d expected. After all, the place was named after my family. Not to mention that the town was so small and tight knit that everyone knew everything about each other.

There was no way I should’ve expected to return here undetected. But I had nowhere else to go.

Truly, all I wanted was to find some peace. But even that seemed too much to ask for.

I didn’t love the idea of my heartbreak fueling