Revenge (Harper Security Ops #19)

Revenge (Harper Security Ops #19)

By A.K. Evans

One

ONE

Cierra

day I’d learn.

day.

But that day wouldn’t be anytime soon. There was a part of me that was just a touch too set in her ways to make any changes now.

So, as the many smiling and excited faces bid me farewell, several running up to give me a high five or a quick hug around my legs, I silently cursed myself for always wanting to put the effort into my look.

Sure, I wasn’t a total fool. I was wearing a winter coat right now, but that didn’t do quite enough to protect my legs from the biting chill of the late winter air.

In my defense, Pennsylvania was like that—Steel Ridge was like that. It was difficult to know what the weather would be like from one week to the next. Meteorologists weren’t always accurate, and in the northeastern part of my home state, it seemed impossible to predict. It wasn’t uncommon for it to be bitterly cold first thing in the morning, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, anyone would need to start stripping off some layers.

Today, it was supposed to be cold.

Despite knowing that, I hadn’t heeded the warning. I simply hadn’t anticipated it being so bone-chillingly cold. Not this late into winter. Not when it was approaching late March.

As another student ran off toward his bus, I scanned the area. Most of the children had already done the same. But a few feet away from me, one young student was preoccupied with her backpack.

Immediately recognizing the student, I walked in her direction. “Hey, Phoebe. Is everything okay, kiddo? You’re going to miss your bus.”

Phoebe lifted her chin, showing me her big brown eyes that were a mix of determination and concern. “I forgot to put my gloves and earmuffs on before I walked outside, Miss Wallace.”

It appeared she’d found her bright pink earmuffs, since they were now on her head. And it looked like she’d located her gloves, too, because they were clutched in her hands. I reached for her open backpack to zip it up for her. “Do you have both of your gloves out of your bag now?”

Phoebe shook her head and held up one pink glove and a lilac one. “These don’t match. I can’t wear gloves that don’t match. But I couldn’t find my other pink one.”

I had to stifle my laughter. The trials and tribulations of life as a third grader. I didn’t know if I’d be able to reason with Phoebe quickly enough. “Maybe you forgot your other pink one at home today. You could wear the two you have now, just to keep warm. And when you get home, you could check around your house for the other pink one.”

“But I wore both pink ones to school this morning, so I won’t find it at home. It’s going to look terrible if I don’t have matching gloves on.”

As a bit of a fashionista myself, I couldn’t say I blamed the girl. Maybe it shouldn’t have mattered—not at her age or mine—but we took pride in the way we looked, and mismatched gloves would totally ruin an outfit. “Alright, let me help you look in your backpack for the other glove.”

Recognizing we didn’t have much time before the buses were going to leave, I didn’t waste another second. I searched through Phoebe’s backpack, convinced I wasn’t going to find the missing glove.

Just as I was about to tell her it must have wound up not making its way into her bag when she arrived at school this morning, I found it folded up and smashed beneath her pale pink lunchbox. “Oh, here it is.”

Excitement littered her features. “You found it.”

As quickly as I could, I helped Phoebe to get her gloves on, tucked the single lilac glove back into her bag, and zipped it up for her. While she slipped her arms through the straps to put it on, I asked, “Where’s your bus?”

She pointed to the bus directly in front of us. “That one.”

Fortunately, Phoebe’s bus was at the front of the line, and it seemed her bus driver knew she belonged on his bus. He smiled at me as I ushered her in that direction. “Have a good weekend, Phoebe.”

“Thanks for helping me, Miss Wallace.”

“You’re welcome.”

Phoebe climbed the stairs, and I offered a wave to her bus driver. He gave me a nod of approval in return. A moment later, I was walking away from Phoebe’s bus as the doors on all of them in line closed.

Only a handful of children were still walking outside, but they were those being picked up by their parents on the opposite side of the walkway from the buses. The moment the last of those kids had made it to the cars taking them home, the buses pulled away.

I stood there for a few seconds with several other staff members, watching to make sure we hadn’t missed anyone or anything, and waving at a few of the students who were peering out the windows.

When the last bus pulled away, I turned around and walked back into the building to gather up my things, so I’d be able to do the same.

I loved my job.

I was the librarian at Steel Ridge Elementary School, and it was everything I had hoped it would be and more.

For as long as I could remember, I’d always had a knack for helping people and learning. I’d always been fascinated with books of all kinds. Whether fiction or non-fiction, each book had the ability to teach something.

I loved that.

I liked knowing that I could walk into a library, select any book off the shelf, and learn something.

Of course, there were ones I found more enjoyable or interesting than others, but that didn’t diminish what I believed about each and every book to be the case.

The love of learning had pushed me into library science when I’d gone off to college. When it came time for me to decide on a career, I mixed that love with my desire to always help others in whatever way I could and decided my ultimate goal would be to become a school librarian.

I didn’t doubt that being in any library would have been fulfilling. But for me, if I could land a job in a school—elementary through high school, it didn’t matter which—that would be the dream.

Whether by fate or fortune, I didn’t know, but almost as soon as I graduated from college, a position opened at Steel Ridge Elementary, and I applied. I’d been here ever since, loving everything about my job—the books, the hours, my coworkers, and most of all, my students.

I didn’t waste time once I’d made it back inside. I got my things gathered up, turned out the lights in the library, and took off.

It wasn’t always such a quick departure for me, but my schedule worked out a few days a week—Fridays being one of them—that I was able to leave as soon as the buses left, and the students were on their way home.

Before I knew it, I’d stepped out into the frigid air once again. As happy as I was to get my weekend started, there was a small part of me that wished I wasn’t walking toward my car.

As it turned out, I lived a short twelve-minute walk from the school. When the weather was nice enough, I walked to and from school. There was something about having that time to either prepare for the day ahead or to decompress from the day I’d just had. Plus, I was able to squeeze in a bit of exercise, too.

Getting into my car and driving home didn’t give me those same opportunities. Taking me about a minute and a half to get home by driving, it wasn’t even enough time for my car to warm up. I was praying the weather would turn soon.

And by the time I turned onto my street and approached my house, I’d wished today would have been the day that happened. At least then I wouldn’t have needed to face what was waiting for me in my driveway when I got home.

look was all it took.

My eyes landed on the car before they saw the individual who’d stepped out of it, and seeing the car alone was enough.

A hollow pit formed in my stomach, even if the person standing beside that car was someone that I was glad to see.

Because seeing her there, I knew this visit wasn’t going to be a good one. This woman, a woman whose life I’d once saved, wouldn’t be here unless she had something important to tell me. And judging by her grim expression, I was reasonably confident she wasn’t here to tell me she’d gotten engaged, married, or was expecting a baby. I didn’t think she was here to tell me she’d landed her dream job or had won the lottery.

Nope.

She was here to tell me something about the very thing that had brought the two of us into each other’s lives.

Briana Nichols—a woman I was grateful was alive, but I was unsettled to see.

I pulled to a stop beside her in my driveway, took several deep breaths, and realized there was little I could do to prepare for whatever conversation, whatever news, awaited me.

The moment I closed my door, and my eyes locked on hers, I felt it. Overwhelming despair, undying fear.

“Briana,” I breathed. “What is it?”

She swallowed hard, the small movements with her hands hesitant. “He’s getting out.”

My blood ran cold. That couldn’t be true. “What?”

I’d heard what she said. I knew exactly what she was talking about, who she was referring to. And yet, I still asked her for clarification. It was the only thing I could think of doing to buy myself some time, time to come to terms with the news she’d just delivered.

Terror was etched into every one of Briana’s features. “They’re letting him out, Cierra. He’s going to walk free.”

No, no, no. This wasn’t right.

It was only by some miracle my legs could keep me upright between the dizziness and the weakness in my limbs I suddenly experienced at the news. My eyes darted to the side, toward the mouth of the driveway and along the street. Whether that was merely me being unable to look at Briana any longer or to confirm that there wasn’t a threat heading our way, I didn’t know.

Reaching my hands up, I gathered my hair and shifted it to the side over the front of my left shoulder. Despite the cold, sweat was beading up on my neck and along my spine.

My eyes cut back to Briana. “Are you sure?”

Her chin jerked down swiftly. “I found out about it today. You were the first person I thought about when I learned the truth.”

I held her gaze, unsure of what to say, but feeling undeniably terrified. A drop of sweat trickled down my lower back.

Briana grew impatient with my inaction. The lack of a response or reaction from me must have led her to believe I didn’t understand just how bad this was.

“Cierra, say something,” she begged. “Richard Lynch is being set free next week.”

“He hasn’t even served the minimum sentence. There’re still months left.”

She shook her head. “He’s getting out early.”

I didn’t want to believe her. Even as much as I had anticipated her visit not being a pleasant one, this wasn’t what I had expected to hear. I thought I’d have more time before I’d need to prepare. I should have been preparing myself for years now.

“Are you sure?”

That seemed to be the only phrase I was capable of.

“Positive. A few months ago, they told me he was being considered for it. I had the opportunity to provide input, but in the end, I guess they decided not to take into consideration what I had to say. Or, if they did, they didn’t feel it was enough to keep him. And now, he’s being released.”

It was my turn to attempt to swallow past the boulder lodged in my throat. I thought I had more time to prepare for this. I’d done everything I could over the last several years to forget this nightmare of a situation, and that was saying something, considering I wasn’t the one who’d been stabbed.

No.

That was Briana.

I just happened to be there when it went down. I’d witnessed it, stepped in to stop it, stayed with her until help arrived, and testified in court after Richard Lynch had been arrested and charged. According to prosecutors, it was my testimony that had been the nail in the coffin for him.

Richard knew that was the case, too.

And even if I’d done my best during that trial not to look at him, it hadn’t been easy. Every time I glanced in his direction, he wore a murderous expression. And when he’d been found guilty and hauled off, he didn’t hesitate to look at me with a promise in his gaze. It wouldn’t happen immediately, but Richard Lynch was out for revenge, and I didn’t doubt he’d seek to get it once he was released.

At the time I’d been going through it, I didn’t think twice. I didn’t hesitate.

I didn’t even know Briana, hadn’t met her before that awful day, but I still couldn’t stand back and do nothing. It could have been me. If it had been, I would have wanted someone to help me. So, that’s why I stepped in. All it took in any situation was for one person to step up and do the right thing.

That’s who I was. I was the person who’d never stand by and watch when someone needed help. I’d done it just minutes ago at school when Phoebe was struggling with her gloves. I did it every day when students walked into the library. And I did it in my personal life, too.

But it seemed my noble intentions had brought me to this place, where I’d now have to worry if this man was going to be successful in seeking his retribution.

I focused my attention on Briana again. She had to be at least as terrified as me. “Do you want to come inside?”

Her shoulders sagged as she nodded.

With that, the two of us made our way into my house. And with every step, I tried to think positive thoughts.

It had been a long time. Would Richard still feel the same? Did he want me to pay for ruining his life? It seemed impossible that after all these years, he could still hold a grudge. Didn’t it?

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