CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Kye
PEOPLE. SO MANY DAMN PEOPLE. AND NOT ONE OF THEM HAD any clues that could lead to Fallon’s whereabouts. Not one had any idea who this monster was.
The power source cable to the gate camera had been snipped, and the person either had my alarm code or the ability to hack it—likely the latter, given Dex’s previous statement that they likely had technical know-how. He was still working on fortifying the system.
But we still had nothing. My vision went blurry as people milled around the room at the sheriff’s station. It looked like a conference room typically used for meetings, but it felt like a war room now. We were battling some unknown enemy, invisible to us all.
And I couldn’t feel a thing. Everything in me had turned off. Gone numb. Because no part of me could live in a world without Fal—my sparrow, my haven.
Dex sat at the conference table, two laptops in front of him. One screen changed on its own as if running a search. His fingers flew across the keyboard of the other, pausing now and then like his brain needed a moment to catch up.
Anson paced back and forth in front of an evidence board, employing a cadence similar to Dex’s yet different. He stopped abruptly here and there, eyes fixed on a photo or report, silently assembling the puzzle in his mind as only he could.
Gabriel talked to a handful of his deputies in quiet tones, his mask in place. Harrison Fletcher had been rushed to the hospital, clinging to life. No one knew if he would make it or not, and their whole department was feeling that, too.
A figure moved in front of me, but it took me a moment to register who it was. I had to blink a few times to take in the dark hair, green eyes, and the familiar concern in his expression.
Trace.
“Talk to me,” he said quietly.
The words were like a physical blow. He had no idea how close they were to the ones Fallon always spoke. “Tell me.”
That gentle command was more powerful than anything I’d experienced in this life. And now, I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear it again.
“I don’t matter right now.” My voice sounded dead, even to my ears. As if the syllables held no light or life.
“You’ll always matter,” Trace argued.
I stared back at him, not saying a word.
Because I couldn’t. The only thing that mattered in my eyes was Fallon.
Her and making sure my sisters were safe.
At least I knew the girls were on lockdown.
Holt Hartley’s crew from Anchor Security had arrived, and my house was crawling with law enforcement.
The majority of the Colson crew was there, too. Waiting.
A sick feeling lit somewhere deep, the ugly voices of my past taking root in my mind. “You ruin everything you touch. You always will.” I felt like I should believe those lies more than ever now.
But then Fallon’s voice rang out in my mind. “Strong, fierce, kind, gentle. Funny, smart, beautiful, loving. Everything I could ever dream up for myself. Everything I could ever dream up for those girls.”
Fallon would never want me to give in to the demons’ lies. Would never want me to let the darkness win. So, for her, I would fight.
“I can’t lose her.” The words were barely audible, some foreign sound between a whisper and a rasp. Still, it felt like a roar.
Trace moved into my space and gripped my shoulders hard. “You aren’t going to lose her. None of us are.”
“Loved her since the moment I saw her,” I croaked. “Standing by the creek and screaming. Everything in her was so raw. So real. I never knew anyone who was that authentic.”
Trace’s face contorted in confusion. “Screaming?”
“A few years after she lost her dad and brother. Didn’t want to burden anyone with everything she was feeling. Processing. But she had to let out.”
Trace’s expression softened in realization. “And she could let it out with you.”
It wasn’t a question, but I attempted a nod anyway. “And me with her. Maybe because she was so fierce in that moment. Not afraid of the world knowing exactly how she felt. Whatever it was, I felt like I could lay everything at her feet. And she saw it all and never judged.”
“So you …?” Trace swallowed hard. “You two knew each other before you came to live with Nora?”
“The day my dad tried to kill me …” My eyes burned like hellfire as I struggled to hold the tears back. “I kissed Fallon for the first time. And when I did, it was like she cleansed my damn soul. I felt like I could breathe because she gave me air.”
“Kye,” Trace rasped.
“You know the rules. I couldn’t risk someone finding out and kicking me out of Nora’s, putting me into one of those group-home situations. No one but Nora Colson would want to take on a kid with my baggage.”
Trace’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but he didn’t let go of me. “So, you both let go of what you wanted.”
“I didn’t think I deserved her. Thought I’d ruin her, taint her, and rain down all the darkness that comes with my history and my life on her. A part of me was right—”
“The hell you were.” Trace gave me a hearty shake. “You’ve helped her soar. No one believes in her more than you do. Cares for her more. And it’s been that way for as long as I’ve known you.”
“We make each other better.” The tears crested over then, tracking down my cheeks. “I can’t lose her. She’s my air. She fuels everything. And she makes everyone and everything around her better.”
Trace pulled me into a hard hug. “I’m not going to let either of you lose each other. Not when you finally got what you should’ve had all along. We’re gonna find her.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to trust that we’d work this all out. That we’d get a miracle. I released my grip on Trace. “I gotta get some air. Be back.”
I moved through the throng of people, ignoring the looks of sympathy and concern on their faces.
I stepped outside and sucked in the freezing-cold air.
Only it wasn’t like kissing Fallon. It didn’t cleanse my soul or help me truly breathe.
But maybe it would be enough to carry me through until I got my sparrow back.
My phone dinged, and I pulled it out. There were countless unread messages and missed calls, but the most recent stopped my heart cold.
Sparrow:
You want to see her alive again? Go back to the place where it all began.
A photo was below the text: Fallon zip-tied to a chair in the house I’d grown up in. The one that had been my hell.
Blond hair. Dark blue eyes. Skin just a little too pale. Yet still so damn beautiful. My air. My everything.
Sparrow:
You breathe a word of this to Trace or any law enforcement, and I will put a bullet in her brain before you can blink.
I was already moving, tugging my keys free and beeping the locks on my truck. It was a trap. I knew it. But I didn’t have a choice. If trading my life meant setting her free, I’d let the monster put a million bullets in me. I’d take that risk—if it bought her even a second to escape.
But my brother wouldn’t let me anywhere near this if he knew. So, he wasn’t going to get a choice. I started the engine and headed for a place I hadn’t been to in over a decade. Somewhere I never wanted to go again.
When I was halfway there, I fumbled for my phone.
I tapped the message thread I had with Trace and started a voice memo.
“I knew you’d never let me go, but I had to.
I can’t leave her alone in this. It’s always been Fallon.
It will always be her. My air. I can’t be in a world she’s not in. He’s got her at my old house. Hurry.”
And then I hit send and prayed they’d make it in time.