Page 156 of Scars of Fate

“Lucas.”

I looked down.

She was watching me.

“What?”

“You went somewhere.”

“I’m right here.”

“No.” Her fingers brushed the scar near my temple. “You were remembering something.”

“Our first apartment.”

A soft smile touched her mouth.

“You tripped over that awful rug.”

“You bought that rug.”

“I was twenty-four.”

“What excuse did the rug have?”

She laughed quietly.

I held her tighter.

Then the helicopter shifted.

Metal groaned beneath us.

The shattered nose slid several inches toward the ravine.

“Everyone out!” Adam ordered.

Russ and Boone freed the pilot.

Hawk grabbed what remained of the communications equipment.

Adam collected weapons and emergency packs.

I carried Wynn through the damaged side door.

Cold mountain air struck us.

We had crashed in a steep, forested valley.

Pine trees covered the slopes.

Jagged cliffs rose on either side.

Smoke drifted from the helicopter.

No roads.

No buildings.