Survive The Fall (Dark Eagle Book 1) Read online

  Maybe she sensed his mood changing because she took the soap from him and ran it over his back and down to his butt cheeks. Her touch was gentle like she enjoyed caressing him. This woman was doing a number on his emotions. He was feeling things he had to put to rest. When his heart softened, the terror came back.

  Tonight he would open his mind to the experience, then he would walk away and never see this freaking gorgeous woman again. With that thought, he dove in for a kiss, pressing her up against the wall of the shower. She dropped the soap, and they clung to each other. He wanted to enjoy her, He wanted to be buried deep inside her again, but no condom meant no sex.

  He worked her to another orgasm, and he was jealous, wishing he could come again. It wouldn't work, not with the condom issue and all the other times he'd come already. He settled for rubbing against her as he made her come. He locked the memory of them together in his mind, knowing he would be able to pull it out when he needed a boost.

  After, he stretched out beside her and drifted off. Just for a few moments, he wished life was different. If he had grown up differently, lived differently, maybe she would be his, but wishes were for wimps, and he couldn't afford to wimp out, not yet.

  Before the sun even turned the horizon pink, he was out of her bed, dressed in his clothes from the night before. He hadn't gotten a room at a hotel, so he was at least thankful he'd been able to sleep in the comfortable bed, wrapped in Angel's arms.

  She slept so peacefully, his heart ached. He blew her a kiss before he left the room, his mind screaming for him to stay. There was no way for him to make any relationship work, not with the weight on his shoulders and the terror that played through his mind.

  3

  Kelsey bit down on the heel of her hand, fighting to keep the tears at bay. Two coffins sat at the front of the room. In one, her brother, Richard, only twenty years old. He’d studied European history. Rich wanted to be a professor. Four days before they'd left for Italy, he'd received an acceptance letter from Yale for their doctoral program. Yale was the top European history college in the nation. It was a dream come true for her brother, and then this happened.

  The other coffin held her father, David. Since their mom died when she was eight, her dad had become her biggest cheerleader. He'd been her rock, the one she relied on for everything.

  Kelsey let out a strangled sob that racked her body. Her knees gave out, and she dropped to the floor, then plopped on her butt, her feet splayed awkwardly out to the side. One shoe dug into her foot, the pain clarifying. She'd asked, begged, cajoled, screamed, cried, and finally demanded to see the reports on how they died. It had been painful. She had no doubt her brother had screamed for an hour as the police waited to go in, fearing another bomb. Why had they gone to Europe?

  If only. If only. If only. Kelsey's thoughts were on repeat, ripping her apart from the inside out.

  They were in a tourist area and were supposed to be safe. But with the unrest around the Mediterranean, the locals were angry, the immigrants frightened, and then there were the dirty, rotten terrorists who had set a bomb. The assholes had targeted a monument in Florence, but the packed streets meant they had to settle for the plaza. A cop had seen something and blown his whistle. The lowlife terrorist had blown up the bomb in a crowded market square where pizza shops had outside dining areas, drawing hundreds to the plaza.

  That morning her brother and dad had been visiting the Montecalvario site near Castellina, Italy in the Chianti region. Then they'd headed into Florence for food and a little sightseeing. When Rich had called her about twenty minutes before the explosion, they'd been at the Piazzale Michelangelo across the Arno River. When she first heard of the blast, she'd thought they'd been spared since the bomb had gone off in Piazza di Santa Croce almost a mile away. She guessed Rich had wanted to see the Dante Alighieri near the Basilica di Santa Croce di Frienze. If only they'd stayed away from the crowds.

  She'd cried a bucket of tears, more than she'd cared to admit. Her eyes were red, painful. Her throat burned with each breath. She wanted her brother and father back. There wasn't anything she wouldn't give to have them with her again.

  The door opened behind her, and she tried to calm. It was no use. Her tears came hard. The door shut, and after she blew her nose, she turned, seeing no one in the room. It had probably been the funeral director checking on her. The viewing had ended fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago, and it was just her, alone with her family.

  Her grandfather had gone home, driven by friends. She'd said she could make it to his place on her own.

  She’d be on her own from here on out. Her family was dead, and her grandfather wouldn't live forever. There would be no family Christmas celebrations, no big Thanksgiving dinners, no Easter get-togethers each year, nothing.

  The morning after her drunken sex fling, she'd called and told Gramps she would rent a car and drive out to his place. He'd agreed, which she hadn't expected. When she stopped her car near his house, and he'd stepped on to the porch, she'd understood why he'd allowed her to rent a car. The man she'd known for years was gone, in his place was someone who'd aged ten years overnight. Gramps had lost weight, and his hair had thinned. It had only been a few months since she'd been out here for Christmas, and now it looked like he was ancient.

  The man was her last living relative. There was no one else. His other son, her uncle, had died shortly after she'd been born. He had no other children, and Gramps had no brothers. Her grandmother had a brother, but they'd lost touch and then she passed away a year after her son, so that branch of her relatives was lost to her.

  Now, sitting in the funeral home, she wasn't sure what she could do. Her phone dinged. She stared at it for a moment before opening the application to read the message from her grandfather asking if she was coming home tonight.

  She called, Gramps answering on the second ring.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Are you on your way, Kiddo?”

  “Not yet.”

  “It's getting dark,” Gramps grumbled.

  “I'll leave in a minute.”

  “It has been tough on you.”

  “And you,” she replied.

  “I'll be fine.”

  She wondered if he would be okay. This type of loss hit hard. No question, it would be a long time before she was okay. If she ever reached that state again.

  “I'm leaving now.”

  “Okay. There's food here.”

  She chuckled, wondering what they'd do with all that food brought out by friends and neighbors. It was a month worth of dinners and lunches for a family of five. How would the two of them eat it all?

  She said bye and hung up before leaving the room. The funeral director had been kind to them, letting her say late so she could say goodbye alone. Before leaving, she stopped by his office and told him she was done. After thanking him, she went out to the rental which her Gramps told her she shouldn't have gotten and drove to his place an hour away.

  Secluded from town, the ranch was a haven. There were other ranches in the area, but their homes were far apart, so it was like she and Gramps were on an island. She'd worried about Gramps safety for the longest time, but he'd laughed her off the one time she'd brought it up years ago. He’d said his ranch was the safest place in the world.

  The sky was full of stars, the area quiet when she arrived at his place. For almost a full minute she stood outside staring up at the twinkling stars, wondering if her father and brother were in heaven, or if they were just gone. It was hard to believe in ever-after with so many deaths close to her.

  “You coming in?” Gramps called from the porch.

  Lost in thought, she hadn't heard him come out. With a big sigh, she turned to face him, sadness filling her. She wanted to be back in the hotel with Brick, lost in the mindlessness of screwing a stranger. He'd been exactly what she'd needed to quiet her mind. Now the thoughts of her brother and father in pain were the only thing she could think of.

  “I'm on my wa
y up,” Kelsey called out.

  “Good, we need to talk.”

  She moved fast and hugged her grandfather before following him inside. He led her to the kitchen and placed a bowl of soup in front of her.

  “I don't know if I can eat.”

  “Do it anyway. You'll need your strength.”

  “Have you eaten?” she asked.

  “Sure have. I had the soup, and I tried a casserole. It's in the trash now. There was something wrong with it.”

  She lifted her brows. “Wrong with it?”

  “It tasted funky. I tossed it. Not worth keeping trashy food.”

  She couldn't disagree with him and thought half the food would end up in the trash because there was no way they'd eat it all. “So, what's up?”

  “I'm not long for this world.”

  She shook her head, sadness coming back with a vengeance. “Don't say that, please.”

  “It's not something I want to think about, but mortality is a fact of life. I need you to know I've left the place to you, my money too. There's no one else, and I have no doubt you'll know what to do with it.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. Gramps held up his hand, his lips thinned. She swallowed over her sorrow and pain, her body aching to deny the truth. Losing everyone sucked.

  “I don't want you to go. I need you.” Her voice squeaked, and her throat closed.

  “It may be a while, but I doubt it. I feel off since learning my son died. There has been too much death in my life. I can't live through another friend dying.”

  She reached across the table and took his hand. “I can't deal with losing another family member, not now.”

  He nodded slowly. “I know, Kiddo. I'll last as long as I can, but you need to be prepared.”

  Pain clenched around her heart, and she shook her head, wanting Gramps to stop. If something happened to him now, it would kill her.

  “I have some money,” Gramps said.

  “Gramps, I can't talk about this.”

  He sighed but didn't stop. “I have an envelope in the safe. Everything you'll need to know about is in there. The code is your birthday.”

  The soup was too much, and she placed the spoon in the almost full bowl and sat back, staring at her grandfather.

  “I can't deal with any more.”

  He nodded, and his eyes softened. “You'll have to deal with it. You may not want to, but this is part of being grown up.”

  She pushed the bowl away and placed her head in her hands. “I don't want to grow up. If only I could be little again and never have to face reality like this.”

  “I'm sorry, love, but this is life. It's not always good. Sometimes the crushing weight is too much.”

  She looked up and met his gaze. “How did you cope when Grandma died?”

  “I kept moving. I put one foot in front of the other.”

  She wasn't sure she could do it. “I don't like it.”

  “Neither do I.” He pointed to her bowl. “You need to eat more. Tomorrow will be long.”

  She tried a little more soup, but it felt weird going down. Gramps headed to bed, and she stretched out, finding sleep hard to come by. Hours later, she drifted off after replaying her night with Brick. The man had helped her more than he would ever understand.

  The funeral day dawned gray and cold, just like her heart. Somehow, she made it through the funeral, the burial, and the reception after. One of Gramps friends had been smart enough to gather the food from their house and serve it at the reception. They'd gotten rid of fifteen casseroles, and the owner of the dishes took them home, relieving her of the worry of having to match dish to the owner once the food had been consumed.

  By the time they made it home, Gramps looked terrible. She didn't make it to bed. Instead, she crashed on the couch as exhaustion won. A loud noise drew her out of her sleep. The light over the stove was on, illuminating the area. After a moment she got up and headed to the bathroom. Tears blurred her vision, and she washed her face, knowing she wouldn't find sleep again.

  When she stumbled into the kitchen, she planned on fixing coffee but heard a strange noise down the hall. Her heart jump started. Was someone trying to break in? Her breath hitched when a scraping noise sounded, scaring the crap out of her.

  At first, she'd thought the noise was coming from the back door, then she realized it was coming from Gramps room. Her heart hammered, and she raced to his door.

  “Gramps,” she called out on her way. Nothing. She hesitated. In all her years, she'd never gone into his bedroom. But that noise disturbed her. She had to see what had happened. The door was open just a crack, her grandfather was on the floor, his face pasty as a sheet. She pushed the door wide, gasping at the blood around his head.

  “Gramps,” she screamed, but he didn't move. Her hands shook as she dropped beside him to check for a pulse. There wasn't one, but she was freaking out and wasn't sure she could find it, anyway.

  Kelsey pulled out her phone and dialed for an ambulance. She knew it would be too late. Gramps had warned her that his life was near the end. She hadn't wanted to believe him. Reality sucked.

  Because Gramps lived in the middle of nowhere, by the time the ambulance arrived, he'd passed away.

  The week had gone from the worst ever to an actual abomination. She longed for Brick's strong arms, but he was lost to her. With no name, she couldn't hunt him down. Regret from not demanding his phone number twisted in her gut. Hell, he probably wouldn't even help her. They weren't even friends, he was just someone she'd screwed. Though it was painful, she made it through the second funeral. The day after the funeral, she called her work and asked to extend her leave of absence. She couldn't go back, not yet.

  The next two weeks passed in a haze. Kelsey's boss called, asking her to come back to work, and she told him she wasn't ready. He threatened to fire her though she'd asked for an extended leave. The stress was too much, so she quit on the spot. Her pain shouldn't have been a hard concept for him to grasp, but he wasn't the caring sort. She knew she wouldn't find a job in the computer industry out here, but she had a little money saved up and could take consulting jobs if she needed to earn some cash.

  After another week on the ranch, she put her house on the market. The quiet beauty of the place along with the solitude had woven into her soul. She wouldn't move back to Charlotte, North Carolina. For now, she'd figure out a way to survive here in the middle of nowhere Wyoming, because there was no way she could function anywhere else.

  4

  After the job on his friend's Wyoming ranch ended, Adam had taken a job in California. Thoughts of that sweet angel he'd spent the night with teased him. After California, Adam thought about moving to Florida, but he couldn't flush Angel from his mind. Knowing he needed to find her, he moved back to Wyoming.

  He'd tried to forget her, but other women didn't measure up. None of them even came close to her. The work he'd picked up in Cheyenne was a personal security job. He didn't think a place like Cheyenne would have a need for personal security, but since the rich had come here to play, he had jobs lined up.

  Angel's trail had gone cold since he had no name, no photo, nothing. All he knew was she had stayed at a hotel in Cheyenne near the airport. She could have been traveling through or in town for a vacation. Hell, she might even have a husband and kids at home waiting for her.

  He was living lean, renting a room above a garage that was only a few hundred bucks a month. Maybe he should save for a house, but he had no clue where to move. If he headed to Hawaii or the Bahamas, he could miss Angel, but if he stayed here and she wasn't from the area, he'd miss her too. Even if she was from here, he might never see her again. He hated the idea she was lost to him.

  Since he was staying for at least a few months, he needed a place he could grab a decent meal. Sunshine Diner turned out to be his favorite brunch spot. On Fridays, he'd finish his security job early, go for a long run, then head to the diner for brunch, sometimes lunch if he took longer at the gym.

 
; The place was full of old-timers who'd lived in the city since dirt had been invented. They'd told him so too when he'd first showed up. It took weeks before they even said hello. At one point an old guy who looked more like weathered leather than a human came over and asked where he'd come from. He thought of some flippant reply to shock them. Instead, he put down his fork and gave the man a solid look before he told him about being a Ranger and leaving the service after his friend had been blown up right in front of him.

  “I need a space where there are few people. I've tried cities and other areas, but I like this town. No trees in the way, you can see what's coming for you.”

  The old guy stuck out his hand and nodded. “Clem's my name. Come on over and meet the guys.”

  Adam stood and shook the man's hand. “It's nice to meet you. I'm Adam.”

  “Well, Adam, we're a ragtag group. I was in Korea. Lot of the guys were in the military. It was what you did if you had nowhere to go.”

  He nodded and sat down at the open place at the table. It was the beginning of how he became connected in the city though he wasn't looking to be connected. The guys, Dan, Mike, and William, welcomed him with warm handshakes and sharp nods. He guessed he was in after that.

  Three weeks later, he was early. Rain had swept in, cutting his run short. The demons at his back had lessened, leaving him feeling a wave of peace he hadn't felt in a while. Adam decided this would be a good place to stay for a while.

  “You're early,” Clem said as he strolled in with the others.

  “No lady's last night?” Dan asked before he took his seat.

  Adam shook his head and chuckled. “The rain cut my run short.”

  “I never liked running,” William said.

  “Neither did I,” Dan parroted. “They used to make us run everywhere. Some days I wanted to punch my sergeant in the face. Never did. If I saw the guy now, I swear I'd hit him.”