I do a quick search through the bed of the vehicle, but my phone isn’t here or on me.
Dropping to my knees, I start rifling through the groaning officer’s pockets, finding his car keys and a cell that isn’t mine.
“Where is my phone?” I ask, not-so-nicely.
It takes him a second, but when he lifts his hand and points over toward the railing at which his partner fell from, I groan.
“Motherfucker.”
I grab the keys and his phone and immediately dial Ayden. Itrings. And rings. And rings.
Nausea churns from my stomach to my chest, the acidic sting rising in my throat. It goes to voicemail. Instead of hanging up and trying again, I let it beep.
“Ayden, it’s me. Please answer the phone, love. I know you don’t recognize the number, but it’s me, Keo.” I pause briefly. Through a shaky breath, I murmur, “I love you so goddamn much. Please be okay. I’m coming home. I’m coming back to you, and we will work this out. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I hang up and dial again, letting it ring over and over until voicemail picks up again.
Instead of going back in for another call, I send a text.
Sunshine, it’s Keoni, please answer me. Or call me.
I slip the phone into my pocket and slap the officer who is attempting to get into a position to crawl away.
“Where the hell are we?”
He stammers, words spilling out, mixed with apologies.
Thankfully, we’re in the Alpine Mountain range that partially surrounds Sapphire Valley, which means we aren’t cities away.
His brown eyes, red-rimmed and wide, stare up at me. There’s a plea in them, and for a brief second, I wonder if he has a family. If a partner would miss him if he didn’t come home.
Then I remember he was ready to end my life. Ayden would’ve faced another funeral. He would’ve been the one to hear that the person he loved wasn’t coming home.
In full clarity, I have no remorse for the actions I’m preparing to take. I grab him by the bicep and drag him around my truck’s open door. He screams and thrashes, fingers digging into my wrist, but adrenaline has taken over—I feel no pain, even as he breaks my skin.
When he starts kicking, I turn and slam my boot onto his shin, breaking the bone instantly. His shrill scream echoes in my ears, hitting a void. I’ve never cared less about anything in my life than the thought of taking this man’s life.
Once we reach the ledge, I drop him right at it.
He soils himself as he crawls away, dragging his injured leg behind him.
“Please—please, I beg of you.”
My eyes fall to half-mast as I stare down at him. “Beg to your god, not me. They’re more likely to answer your pleas.”
I slam my heel into his shoulder, sending him tumbling backward.
His screams break up as he collides with rocks, but I know he hasn’t reached the bottom by the time I turn my back. I don’t wait for confirmation he’s found his death. Instead, I move quickly to the black Dodge Charger.
As I’d suspected too late before, it’s a civilian car. No police equipment in sight. There’s more gas in this one, and as much as I hate leaving my truck—likely to be found later with two bodies at the bottom of a mountain—Ayden is more important. Getting back to him is all that matters.
Once inside, I navigate the windy, nerve-wracking road while trying to dial Britt’s number from memory. Five-five-six-seven… or was it something else? Every attempt is met with a gruff old man answering instead.
I try two more numbers, whenfinally, it’s her that picks up. “Hello?”
“Britt, it’s Keoni.”
“Oh my fucking god! You goddamn ASSHOLE!”
