Prologue
Rhonan
Shots Fired
My eyes lock on the fucker pointing a gun at my daughter and the woman I love, and something inside me snaps.
I refuse to watch two more people be ripped away from me—especially after what I’ve been through to get to this point.
With my gun raised, I approach the back door of the cabin and slowly turn the knob, finding it unlocked.
There’s yelling inside, but I won’t be distracted. My focus is on getting to Ellis and Vienna before this motherfucker snaps.
I slip into a mudroom where there’s a washer and dryer, coats hanging on a rack, and a water heater tucked in the corner. Then I hear a loud crash deeper inside, so I move into the hallway.
Peering around the wall, I try to pinpoint the source of the sound through a narrow view of the living room. Another man holding a gunis standing over someone on the floor, and I can see the top of Ellis’s head as she crawls across the couch toward Vienna, who is now lying on the ground.
Fuck this guy.
More yelling.
Vienna sits back up on the couch.
And then noise from out front pulls the man’s attention. He moves toward the front door, so I take this as my opportunity to make my move.
But I’m not slick enough.
Not fast enough.
Shots are fired.
Screaming rings out.
And I fear that yet again, fate has stepped in, hell-bent on testing my strength and proving that no matter how hard I fight, I can’t stop the people I love from being taken from me in the most catastrophic ways.
Chapter 1
Rhonan
Two and a Half Months Earlier
Bad Dreams and a Threat of Penis Mutilation
“She’s gone, Rhonan.”
Three simple words alter my brain chemistry as I sit in the hospital chair, desperately trying to blink myself back to reality. I heard what Laney said, but it still doesn’t seem real. None of this does.
This wasn’t how this day was supposed to go at all.
“I’m sorry,” my sister continues as tears fall down her cheeks. “But I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
“Who’s gone?” I need clarification because there are two people in that room I care about now, and even though losing either of them is going to kill me, I need to know which grief to brace for.
“Sarah,” Laney says on a shaky breath. “She—she didn’t make it.”
My lungsfight to pull in air as my body launches itself from the bed. I scan my room next, focusing on my surroundings because it usually helps me snap out of the dream faster.
“Jesus,” I mutter as I drag my hand down my face and swing my legs over the side of my bed, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.
