CHAPTER ONE
GAVIN
*This series contains sensitive subject matter. If you are easily triggered or have experienced serious trauma, this book series may not be for you. Not recommended for persons under 18 years of age.
The screen fades to black, though the image it held still remains. Every outline. Every colour. Every shade of her pain.
When I saw the intense flash of the gun, time stood still, and the eerie image of Hannah’s murder became a permanent shadow in my mind. Forever imprinted. Never to be forgotten.
My eyes go in and out of focus as I stare blankly ahead, swaying on my knees as the air turns icy cold, hardening in my lungs.
Hannah can’t be dead.
She can’t!
I screw my eyes tight, trying to squeeze out the imagery through my tears, but they won’t let go. There’s no way to get rid of them. No way to unsee what’s been seen.
I suck in a shaky breath, feeling the weight of a thousand elephants bearing down on my chest. My heart beats violently to resist. I sink my fingers in my hair, fisting it. I need a different type of pain. One I can control. One that will wake me from this nightmare. I tug and tug and tug, but it’s not working. It’s not going away.
I’m not waking up.
“Did she… Did she just…” Ryan’s voice shakes beside me. He leans over, bracing on his knees. A harsh huff escapes his mouth as if he’s just been kicked in the gut. He shudders, falling to his knees, joining me on the concrete floor when he gets slammed with the same truth.
She’s gone.
I howl into the small metal room, needing to release the overwhelming grief burning like lava, searing my insides. Anger. Sadness. Gut-wrenching agony. I’m erupting with every extreme emotion my body can no longer contain.
I was too late.
My desperate roar turns ungodly as my voice rumbles. Cracking and breaking.
Unable to feel the satisfaction of release, I slam my palms onto the unforgiving cement below, feeling the sting just before the force reverberates up my forearms. My shoulders quake as tears tumble down my cheeks, reality fisting my lungs. I’m heaving in and out when Ryan finally lifts his head. He’s watching me with shimmering eyes, barely restraining the same heartache.
He doesn’t need to tell me what’s going through his head because I’m already thinking it. Probably two seconds before and two times more deeply. But where he gets to hold on to her last words and cherish them, I get to hold on to what she didn’t say. And that makes my pain so much worse, so much more agonizing.
My ribs feel like they’ve been cracked wide open, my heart ripped from my chest. Like the dying muscle’s been flippantly thrown under the feet of a stampede.
In her last moments, it was him she was thinking of. Him that she loved. I had successfully pushed her away, not knowing he had already pulled her closer. I’d already lost my chance to make things right. I killed it when I betrayed her. And now I’ve failed her again. I let Matt take her—while I watched from a distance. Unaware it was the last time I’d see her smiling face. I have the blood of two deaths on my hands: Hannah’s—taken way too young—and my own trampled heart.
It’s clear we weren’t meant to find her. Matt set up this cat-and-mouse game just to have us watch, to wedge the knife that much deeper. It was his plan all along to divert our attention long enough for him to get her where he wanted her. He was able to take her in broad daylight, right before our eyes—with Ryan and I both watching. One minute she was there, in her angelic perfection, the next she was gone.
Except for the agony I’ve painted on the storage unit floor, the dim glow of the now blackened projection provides the only evidence that anything occurred in this tiny space. Nothing to prove she was abducted, and nothing to prove she’s dead. When the cops arrive, we will have nothing but our broken hearts to show them, and Matt will get away with hurting her again.
I swallow the anguish and try to mobilize myself. I push up on two unsteady legs, feeling the pressure of what needs to be done.
An eye for an eye. A life for a life.
This asshole is going to pay.
Ryan looks up at me with bloodshot eyes and saturated cheeks. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not sitting on my hands anymore, hoping the justice system will do what needs to be done. If they had, she’d still be alive right now. I’m taking matters into my own hands. I’m going to kill the bastard.”
“Not without me, you’re not.” He surges to his feet, swiping at his face, using the adrenaline of his hatred to fuel him.
“I’m not joking around. When I find him, he won’t be walking away.”
“Damn right, he isn’t. He’s going to pay for what he did to her. By your hands or mine, he’s going to inhale his last breath. And it’s going to be a painful one.”
When I saw the intense flash of the gun, time stood still, and the eerie image of Hannah’s murder became a permanent shadow in my mind. Forever imprinted. Never to be forgotten.
My eyes go in and out of focus as I stare blankly ahead, swaying on my knees as the air turns icy cold, hardening in my lungs.
Hannah can’t be dead.
She can’t!
I screw my eyes tight, trying to squeeze out the imagery through my tears, but they won’t let go. There’s no way to get rid of them. No way to unsee what’s been seen.
I suck in a shaky breath, feeling the weight of a thousand elephants bearing down on my chest. My heart beats violently to resist. I sink my fingers in my hair, fisting it. I need a different type of pain. One I can control. One that will wake me from this nightmare. I tug and tug and tug, but it’s not working. It’s not going away.
I’m not waking up.
“Did she… Did she just…” Ryan’s voice shakes beside me. He leans over, bracing on his knees. A harsh huff escapes his mouth as if he’s just been kicked in the gut. He shudders, falling to his knees, joining me on the concrete floor when he gets slammed with the same truth.
She’s gone.
I howl into the small metal room, needing to release the overwhelming grief burning like lava, searing my insides. Anger. Sadness. Gut-wrenching agony. I’m erupting with every extreme emotion my body can no longer contain.
I was too late.
My desperate roar turns ungodly as my voice rumbles. Cracking and breaking.
Unable to feel the satisfaction of release, I slam my palms onto the unforgiving cement below, feeling the sting just before the force reverberates up my forearms. My shoulders quake as tears tumble down my cheeks, reality fisting my lungs. I’m heaving in and out when Ryan finally lifts his head. He’s watching me with shimmering eyes, barely restraining the same heartache.
He doesn’t need to tell me what’s going through his head because I’m already thinking it. Probably two seconds before and two times more deeply. But where he gets to hold on to her last words and cherish them, I get to hold on to what she didn’t say. And that makes my pain so much worse, so much more agonizing.
My ribs feel like they’ve been cracked wide open, my heart ripped from my chest. Like the dying muscle’s been flippantly thrown under the feet of a stampede.
In her last moments, it was him she was thinking of. Him that she loved. I had successfully pushed her away, not knowing he had already pulled her closer. I’d already lost my chance to make things right. I killed it when I betrayed her. And now I’ve failed her again. I let Matt take her—while I watched from a distance. Unaware it was the last time I’d see her smiling face. I have the blood of two deaths on my hands: Hannah’s—taken way too young—and my own trampled heart.
It’s clear we weren’t meant to find her. Matt set up this cat-and-mouse game just to have us watch, to wedge the knife that much deeper. It was his plan all along to divert our attention long enough for him to get her where he wanted her. He was able to take her in broad daylight, right before our eyes—with Ryan and I both watching. One minute she was there, in her angelic perfection, the next she was gone.
Except for the agony I’ve painted on the storage unit floor, the dim glow of the now blackened projection provides the only evidence that anything occurred in this tiny space. Nothing to prove she was abducted, and nothing to prove she’s dead. When the cops arrive, we will have nothing but our broken hearts to show them, and Matt will get away with hurting her again.
I swallow the anguish and try to mobilize myself. I push up on two unsteady legs, feeling the pressure of what needs to be done.
An eye for an eye. A life for a life.
This asshole is going to pay.
Ryan looks up at me with bloodshot eyes and saturated cheeks. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not sitting on my hands anymore, hoping the justice system will do what needs to be done. If they had, she’d still be alive right now. I’m taking matters into my own hands. I’m going to kill the bastard.”
“Not without me, you’re not.” He surges to his feet, swiping at his face, using the adrenaline of his hatred to fuel him.
“I’m not joking around. When I find him, he won’t be walking away.”
“Damn right, he isn’t. He’s going to pay for what he did to her. By your hands or mine, he’s going to inhale his last breath. And it’s going to be a painful one.”
