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“You’re not going to be here for dinner, are you?” She sounds miffed, but I don’t say anything to make her feel better.
“Your kids are terrors, Sori. Last time I ate over, Laurence stole all my potatoes right off my plate. I think I’ll eat here, where I won’t starve to death.”
She huffs, making a garbled sound that barely comes through the speaker. “Fine. But that means I’m not telling you anything about Casper tonight.”
I seriously weigh the options, but the steak staring up at me from the counter is too juicy and delicious to pass up. Especially since I know Sori will tell me sooner or later.
“I’ll come over tomorrow after Emmett leaves for work.” I almost hang up, before adding, “Oh. Nice try. I know Miles is in town. You’re not gonna get me over there until he’s gone.”
Her gasp of mock outrage is the last thing I hear before disconnecting the call and digging back into the deliciousness in front of me. At least until my phone starts ringing again.
“Dammit.”
“What do you want, Dom?”
Cutting another quick bite of dinner, I stuff it into my mouth and wait for the man on the other end of the call to speak. In the background, I can hear the chaos of one of the bars on base and immediately feel a pang of longing. Dominic Ortiz was in my unit; he was the first to offer help with breaking shit down when we needed it. He is one of my best friends. And the fact that he is going overseas without me burns deep.
“Not the same without you, man,” Dom spits out. “We’re headed out tomorrow.”
He says it like I don’t know. Like I haven’t been counting down the days and hours until we were supposed to deploy. Swallowing deeply, I run a hand through my hair and try to stay calm. My heart is already starting to race, and a dull throb is starting up behind my eye. Just like it does every single time I think about the accident and what I lost that night.
A grunt is the only response he gets from me.
“How is the unit’s golden boy doing?” He changes the subject with a light cough. “You remember anything from that night yet?”
“No.” I choke out the word and break out in an uncontrollable cold sweat.
Golden Boy. Yeah. Sure, whatever. All I’ve been able to do since the night of the accident is work myself into a migraine every time I try to remember what happened. I hadn’t even been able to save myself. Hell, I can practically feel my hand trembling where it is holding the phone against my ear as I think about the hours I have spent waiting, hoping for help that I know isn’t coming.
The pain in my head is growing, becoming almost unbearable in a matter of seconds while I push to remember anything about that night for the hundredth time since it happened. Only there isn’t anything there. Nothing, just like every other time I put myself through the familiar pain. All I have is a haze of the impact and the smell of gas coming from my car’s engine while I’m trapped in the twisted metal with blood dripping into my eyes and no way to escape.
“You’ll get it back.” Dom is only trying to offer comfort, but all I want to do is hang up and vomit.
“I gotta go.” That’s all I get out before I hang up with shaking hands.
His words echo in my mind, and there isn’t anything I can do to prevent what is coming. I clench the counter, staring at a plate of food that had seemed so appetizing a few minutes before. Now, all it does is make me sick.
The lights are starting to dim around the edges, and I can’t breathe. Panic attacks are something that I’ve had to live with since the accident. Something I don’t know if I’ll ever get over, at least not without knowing what happened that night.
In fact, I am ass-deep in the panic and trying to breathe through it, failing miserably, when I hear something crash and shatter through the open window into the living room. At first, I don’t move. Then I hear the unmistakable sound of a heart-wrenching sob. The kind that reaches deep down into my soul and demands that I stand up and pay attention. Even though my heart is still racing, I push that shit aside and pull myself together long enough to figure out what the hell is going on.
When I step onto the porch to investigate, all I find are a few shards of broken glass and the perpetrator nowhere in sight. With nothing else to do, I go back inside to grab a broom. Obviously, someone is having a bad night. I hear the banging next door, as well as random outbursts through the thin walls that separate my condo from the neighbor. Although when I get back with the broom and dustpan that I find in the pantry, I see a familiar redhead on the ground crying.
Her quiet sobs send a fucking arrow straight through my heart and I’m done. She’s already knocked me on my knees and I don’t have the foggiest idea about who she is. All I know is that I have to have her. Casper Townsend, with her tears and the mystery around who she is or where she is from, will be mine.
“Hey.” I crouch down and put a hand on her cheek. Admittedly, I shouldn’t have touched her without her knowing who I am. To be honest, that is probably why her tears immediately stop and she falls backward on her ass to get away from me. “It’s just me.” I hold up both hands, trying to show her that I’m harmless. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” Talking to her like I would a wounded animal, I get down on her level again to see that it isn’t just a few bits of broken glass on the ground that she’s been crying over. It’s some sort of figurine, the head of which looks a lot like shattered marble.
“I gave this to her when we graduated college,” Casper whispers as soon as the shock wears off. “She said that it would bring her luck.”
I don’t have a clue what to say to her, but I’m not about to leave her alone, either. Not when she is as torn up as she is, and not when every look she gives me is a mix of heaven and hell.
“What happened?” I sit down on the ground next to her while she picks up every piece of glass like it is a treasure, putting it in a black silk bag. When she doesn’t say anything, I add, “To your sister, I mean.”
“Cassie, Cassandra, was in an accident.” That’s all she says, and I feel every single word hit me in the solar plexus. “They think someone ran her off the road, but there weren’t any other cars.”
Her tears are silent as they hit the pavement, and I fight the urge to wipe them away for her.
“When did it happen?”
