From the forest, Ryder is watching the window with night vision goggles. I have backup trained on the house and at the exit of the trail about a mile down.
It’s been a long time, but the training beaten into me by the military holds. In the still silence of the porch, I listen to Jessica’s voice and begin box breathing to calm my nervous system.
Four breaths in.
Hold for four.
Exhale for four.
Hold for four.
Rinse. Repeat.
Calm. Steady. Even.
My entire past stretches out before me.
The pain.
The suffering.
The loss.
The way my father’s fist felt on the contours of my face.
My mom’s listless body as she sat slumped over, band still around her arm. Needle still pushed into her vein.
The loneliness that had taken up permanent residence in my bones when my parents died.
The cold isolation of my heart.
In my ear, Ryder’s voice says, “Clear.”
I don’t hesitate.
As quiet as a man trained for dangerous operations, I open the door, firearm angled down in a low-ready position.
When Jessica’s blue eyes lock on mine, I experience a swell of relief so strong it almost knocks me to my knees.
Then I take in the knot on her head.
And blind rage has my vision turning red.
He hurt her.
I am going to kill him.
There’s no escape for Russ Decker.
I look at her bruised face.
He’s a dead man.
I hold a finger to my lips, telling her to be quiet while I slip across the floor silently.
I want nothing more than to go to her.
To touch her to assure myself she’s real.
