Fractured Sky (Tattered & Torn #5)(102)

All my best moments had been with Holt. But I hadn’t had nearly enough.

I opened my mouth to scream. To beg. I wasn’t even sure which.

But I didn’t get the chance.

I heard a pop, like the sound of a single firecracker slicing through the air.

Heat bloomed in my chest. Then fire. And I was sliding down.

The tile was so cold, frigid compared to the inferno blazing in my torso. I wanted to sink into that coldness to escape the heat. But most of all, I wanted Holt.

“What the fuck?” Randy bellowed.

“She’s not worth getting arrested over, man. We gotta run!”

The ceiling above me melted into a cascade of colors, the pastels swirling together until it almost looked like my favorite time of day. Twilight. How many times had I made Holt sit with me past the sunset so that I could watch nighttime take hold? So the sky could soothe my soul.

I almost felt Holt’s lips pressed to my temple. “I’ll watch every twilight with you. Every moonrise, too.”

Footsteps pounded on the stairs. “Where the hell is Holt? We need them both.”

I tried to get my brain to place that voice. But I couldn’t quite… “Don’t worry, Cricket. I’ll scare the ghosts away.”

The twilight ceiling darkened, and the only thing I could think then was that I was glad Holt was late.

But I would’ve given anything to feel his arms around me one more time.





1





HOLT





PRESENT

Ten years.

I couldn’t help but circle the number in my head. Three thousand, six hundred, and fifty days. Yet I still knew these mountain passes like the back of my hand. The ones that got so packed with snow during the winter months they became impassible, the only ways in and out of town by air or taking the ferry to the opposite end of the lake, assuming things weren’t frozen.

The feeling of being mostly cut off from the world had always been something I’d relished. Cedar Ridge felt like a place the evil of the world hadn’t touched. We all knew better now. Evil was just better at hiding sometimes.

My gut tightened as I took the final curve that would deposit me across the border of the town limits, my Mercedes G63 hugging the road like a dream. On any other day, I would’ve gotten a thrill out of taking these mountain passes, testing my reflexes, and feeling that hit of adrenaline that reminded me I was still alive. But not today.

The bend in the road straightened, and I caught sight of the same sign I’d passed too many times to count. Welcome to Cedar Ridge. Population 2163. The number was higher than it had been ten years ago, and the appearances I’d made since leaving had always been by air—in and out as quickly as humanly possible.

Not tempting fate. No chance of seeing familiar faces other than my family. No risk of seeing her.

Memories slammed against the walls I’d erected in my mind, brick by painstaking brick. Blood. The feel of her thready pulse beneath my fingers. My palms desperately trying to shove life back into her chest.

The leather on the wheel creaked with audible protest as I reinforced those mental walls. Hell. I needed better defenses if I were cracking after only seconds.

Then again, maybe I didn’t. I deserved every painful memory that swirled and wreaked havoc on my brain.

I glanced at my dashboard clock. Eleven thirteen. My gaze shifted to my watch. Eleven fourteen.

A muscle in my jaw ticked as I quickly took in the screen of my satellite cell phone. Eleven fourteen. My fingers moved deftly to the console, adjusting the clock to match the correct time.

One minute.

To some people, it would be nothing. But I knew that lives could be lost in mere seconds. A whole minute was the difference between safety and catastrophe.

My cell rang through my SUV’s speakers, and Jack’s name flashed on the console. My thumb hit the button on the steering wheel to accept.

“Everything okay?”

“If I told you the team was falling apart without you, would you get your ass back here?”

I didn’t say anything for a moment. The team was falling apart with me. I wasn’t sure whether it was my dad’s heart attack or the past finally coming back around for payback.

Jack let out an audible breath. “I know we’ve been hit with one tough case after another. But what happened to Castille wasn’t your fault.”

“My mission, my responsibility.” A single second and another person on my watch had almost lost their life. Months of rehab were helping, but he still had a long road to a complete recovery.

“Every single one of us knows that this job comes with risks.”

We did. Working private security around the world could mean anything: Working for private contractors in the Middle East, wealthy families in Europe, celebrities in Los Angeles, CEOs anywhere you could imagine—people whose lives were at risk for any number of reasons. Greed. Obsession. A hunger for power.

Between that and the war zones where I’d served my tours, I’d seen unparalleled levels of darkness. But nothing would ever touch what I’d seen in my sleepy hometown.

My gaze tracked the storefronts that had barely changed in my decade away—the rustic cabin-like shops and restaurants with their huge windows that beckoned you inside. I caught quick glimpses of the lake between the buildings. A little girl running down the street, her braids flying, laughing as her father chased her.