Last Home for Evelyn (Last #3)

Prologue

A Few Months From Now

THE WORLD ISN’T crumbling around me. The breaking belongs to me.

Three words echo in my mind, over and over.

They’ve taken her. They’ve taken her. They’ve taken her.

Everything goes quiet, as if a vacuum with enough power to rob the universe of all sound has taken it away. And yet, it’s deafening.

The home we’ve begun to build, the kind of home that dwells inside of you, our metaphorical glass roof built so preciously around sharp, unmoving steel comes crashing down, shards slicing through my very soul.

Returning to that bleak fate, a world encased in the ash of burnt-down dreams, shame, and self-loathing, where black eyes meet me in the mirror, is no longer an option. Becoming nothing but a chemical response, I’m moving before I have the conscious thought to do so.

Everything blurs as I speed through the streets, racing the wind, until I’m running up the stairs to the shitty apartment where we’ve been meeting. Bursting through the door, I rip the chain right off the wall, coming face first with the barrel of a sleek, black gun.