Chapter One
Oh my God, days had passed, and the scene couldn’t have been scarier. They’d had earthquakes before, but this one had been terrifying in it’s fury.
The collapsed apartment building still filled the closed-off street, and the authorities refused to let anyone near the piles of rubble. Between the ambulances, powerful excavators, and the other official resources, the place showed a hive of activity.
Problem was, Rachel knew her husband lay buried somewhere in that mess. Whether alive or dead, no one could tell her. Forced to stay back with the others waiting to hear about their own loved ones, Rachel hid in her car, nursing her broken heart.
From the time she’d opted to marry Damon Marks, the local bad boy in Carlton Grove, she’d accepted that life with him would be hard.
Living with a grown-up baby had challenges many other women never had to deal with, but she hadn’t cared.
When he took her in his arms and made love to her, nothing else mattered.
The world disappeared and only the two of them existed.
He had a way of making her believe she’d been put on this earth just for him, and he for her… that they were meant to be together. And so, she’d accepted the good with the bad and the happy with the sad.
Living in her fantasy world, she’d given up her plans to go to college and instead used her hard-earned savings to pay for their wedding and a down payment on a small house.
She’d floated in her dreamworld for the first few years, getting pregnant and gaining responsibilities.
As her satisfaction began to disappear, and the glow faded, she told herself…
don’t worry. It’s normal. Nothing lasts forever.
Except lately, there’d been a lot more dysfunction than even she had thought possible. Her man had become an ornery grump, constantly feeling sorry for himself. Somehow, he’d made himself believe that their difficult times had come just to make him miserable.
Distraught, Rachel pushed aside her growing resentment and tried to only remember the good moments, before the kids and the load of responsibilities had taken over.
Admitting that day by day it had become more difficult because she’d begun to begrudge Damon and his silly narcissistic behavior, she guessed these emotions had begun to wear her down.
Buried under this tension, she sensed a disaster waiting, and so she’d prayed harder.
Unable to rest, and no matter how hard she tried to control her thoughts, her brain insisted on revisiting those same frustrations.
And no matter how hard she’d try, he tried less.
So her memories of him now were frayed with sorrow and bitterness yet mixed in with her earlier years of total adoration.
Basically, her brain was in a constant battle with her heart.
Rachel gulped, needing to swallow the saliva rushing into her mouth. Shaking her head, she repeated the same mantra that had echoed repeatedly in her mind. He’s alive. He has to be alive. I couldn’t bear it otherwise.
Suddenly there was a knock on the driver’s side window, and Lance, Damon’s younger brother, waited for her to open it to him.
Though his eyes refused to meet hers, a custom of his she’d become used to, seeing his stubborn stance, she knew he meant business.
He wouldn’t be talked out of interfering in her mourning again.
The complete opposite of his handsome brother, Lance was gentle and retiring, rather than loud and one might say over confident.
Whereas Damon had dark hair he kept always groomed, Lance’s own similar mass constantly needed a trim.
His normal shyness in no way presented a weak man, she knew better from watching him deal with his brother.
But with her, he had a way of never crossing a line or getting too close – both physically and mentally.
When she unlocked the doors, Lance moved around to the passenger side and slipped in beside her. Before he could speak, she broke in. “I can’t believe he’s gone, Lance. We had such a strong connection, wouldn’t I know if he were dead?”
“I believe you, Rachel. But they need more evidence than just your – your instincts. They promised to keep the search and rescue dogs working, and they’ll still be pulling the rubble off bit by bit, but it’s been more than two days. Without water, it’s hard to accept that anyone can survive.”
Rachel let the words sink in, fighting her need to argue, to lash out at the poor guy who was just here to deliver news.
Living in her car over the last few days, staying close to where the building had collapsed, she mostly prayed while seeing them pull yet another body from the destruction that wasn’t Damon’s.
Though she knew the circumstances as to why and how Damon was even involved in the incident, it didn’t matter.
Nobody’s fool… she’d known he was breaking their wedding vows, visiting another woman.
The one who lived in the destroyed structure that had fallen to rubble more than two days previously.
They knew because his truck was still parked in the lot behind the building.
They also knew because he never came home, and the last time he was seen had been when he left the pub with Lily Freemont, one of the residents who lived on the second floor.
Yet somehow, even knowing why he’d been there, and that he’d most certainly betrayed his vows to both her and the kids, it hadn’t mattered.
With her heart ripped wide from the pain of maybe losing him, she’d refused to leave the site, spending every moment waiting, hoping against hope for good news.
Praying he might be like the other several victims they’d found alive and had brought out, she couldn’t let go of the possibility.
Finally, she looked at Lance closely and knew that he appeared different. His kindness was filled with determination. And his voice held a crisp tone he’d never used with her before. When he spoke, she had no choice but to hear him.
“Rachel, sweetheart, enough is enough. You need to come home. You’re exhausted.
Besides, Nico and Rosie need their mommy.
You slumming in your car, waiting for news is insane.
Whether you’re here or there, the outcome will be the same.
Those two kids are becoming unmanageable.
They’re terrified, and I’ve tried my best, but you’re the only one who can calm them down. ”
Rachel hung on to his shirt sleeve, beseeching him to understand. “Oh, Lance, I’ve been telling myself that if he’s alive, he’ll feel my presence. That it’ll help him hang on. Am I being silly?”
For the first time in forever, she caught Lance’s incredible green eyes full on. Her heart thudded at the look in them, the appeal he didn’t try to hide. “Hell if I know, Rachel, but the one thing I’m sure of is this. Your kids need you.”
Staring at him, her eyes wide with worry she stopped thinking about Damon for long enough to let his words sink in. “My babies.”
“Yes. They need their mama. I need you. I can’t make them behave.
Rosie is downright disrespectful, and all Nico does is cry.
When I try to impose rules, they’re favorite line is – you’re not my father.
Rachel, I love them, you know that. And usually, they mind me, but both are a mess from this earthquake too.
They’re scared and sad, unable to make any sense from this disaster. ”
Those words resonated in a brain filled with fear. “I’m really sorry, Lance. I guess I wasn’t thinking about them or you. Just myself.”
“If that were true, I wouldn’t care. But it isn’t. All you’re thinking about is Damon. Same as always. He comes first. I get it. But from now on, those kids have needs too, and they need you.”
***
The minute she’d stepped into Lance’s house, she noticed the difference in how he’d fixed up the place.
The last time she’d been here, he’d just bought the older home, and it had been a mess.
Now, every room had been renovated, his furnishings were modern, and she saw how neat and nice it looked compared to her place.
Their own smaller home, the one Lance had contributed money to help them buy as his wedding present, was falling apart around them.
Considering her man co-owned a carpentry business with his brother and both boys had years of experience with the tools, obviously Lance had put his skills to good use at home whereas just getting Daman to fix a cupboard door was a hassle.
In fact, lately getting him to do anything had become a nightmare of fights and resentments. Shaking off those negative thoughts, Rachel stepped out back where both her kids were playing in the covered area Lance had constructed for them.
As soon as they saw her, they both scurried over, rushing her, wanting attention and answers.
“Is Dad here too?” Ten-year-old Rosie held back from actually hugging Rachel.
Something she’d been doing a lot of lately.
But Nico, her three-year-old baby, ran full blast, throwing himself into her open arms.
Filled with purpose, Nico’s loud voice cut in, sharing his relief. “Mommy. You’re here. I told Rosie you’d be coming home. Lance pwomised.”
“It’s Uncle Lance for you boyo and yes, of course I came home.” She snuggled him close, trying not to break down.
Held in her arms, their faces close, Nico’s identical blue eyes stared into hers. “Is Daddy dead?”
“Nico!” Lance’s stern voice cut in.