Page 82 of Finding Solace


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Tires grind against the gravel of the dirt driveway, and I peek over to see a car I don’t recognize. The windows are too dark to make out who’s inside, but when a door opens, a large man dressed in a short-sleeve dress shirt gets out and looks around. I drop to my knees, keeping my head lowered until I feel it’s safe to take another peek. Who is he?

I overhear him on the phone say, “I’ll take care of him.” Nothing about him is familiar, so I know he’s not from around here. He lingers on the porch, nodding, as he holds the phone to his ear. “Consider it done.”

My gaze darts back to the door where the love of my life is about to be ambushed inside. Jason needs to get out, so I have to warn him. But how? Paul and Lorraine. I need to call Whaley and get Paul’s help.

Taking his time, the man opens the door and goes inside. I start running away from the house, but don’t make it halfway through the field before I hear a gunshot explode inside the house, stopping me in my tracks. My breath stops in my chest. Jason.

My thoughts volley between the two houses. What do I do? I can’t lose Jason, so I turn around and back toward the house. Just when I reach the edge of where the floodlight shines, another shot causes me to duck and press myself to the side of the siding. My breath comes hard, and I try to regulate it so I’m quieter, keeping the sobs stifled inside.

The silence inside has me clamping my eyes closed, willing the tears to stay at bay. I have to fight. I have to fight for Jason and the future he promised me.

He’s my forever, and I’m his.

I refuse to lose him. Not today. Not ever again.

27

Jason

“Holy shit.” I’m pressed against the wall of the bathroom. With the gun cocked and ready, Cole cowers at the end of the barrel. I’m not sure if who’s in the house or who to be aiming my gun at. Someone’s not shy about making an entrance, and it sounds like something made of glass took the brunt of it.

Cole weeps with his knees tucked to his chest. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Jason.”

“Keep your voice down.” He’s a fucking mess. “Do you know who’s out there?”

“I wanted to die. I wanted to die with her.”

I have a good mind to put him out of his misery. The fucker shouldn’t live. He caused all of this. Lost years. Her pain. And then he tries to kill her. Drown her. I want to take him out so badly, but the two warning shots fired in the living room tell me he’s not the one I need to worry about.

The door to the bedroom is still open, but I managed to hit the lights before ducking back in here. I have Cole’s gun. One bullet in the chamber. Fucker. I’m guessing he intended to play a game of Russian roulette. My gun is in the truck out front, but that means getting out of here undetected to retrieve it. That might not be possible with this sack of shit still shivering in the tub. “Cutler,” I whisper between my teeth.

He’s useless as he dips lower, not even making an effort to save his own ass. My body stills when I hear the floors creaking through the house, my mind ticking through the escape routes of this house.

Front door through the living room.

Window to the roof up the stairs.

The back door in the kitchen.

I’ve become complacent. My mind rushing to the obvious instead of what I can actually get to undetected.

Two windows in either corner.

One larger one at the end of the hall.

Small horizontal window in the shower.

Fuck.

The windows in here are my only chance to get out. I just hope there’s not a surprise waiting for me outside. When I hear another set of footsteps, I run. Needing all my strength, I set the gun on the bed, unlock the latch, and try to pull up.

Fuck!

The window is stuck. Yanking again, it doesn’t budge. I run my finger along the seam, and that’s when I see it’s been painted closed. Who the hell would do that? Glancing over to the other window, I see the same thing.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I grab the gun and head to the door. Backing up to the wall, the gun is against my chest, my finger loose on the trigger.

One bullet.

One.

Images of Delilah carefree swimming in the lake, as if there was nothing that could stop her from loving life, are tattered dreams of seeing her that free again. She deserves sunshine and happiness. A long life filled to the brim with it.

She’s who I’m living for, so I hope she’s long gone. Please to fuck, let her have listened to me this one time. If she made it, Paul will keep her safe.

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