Under the Albanian Sun (Under #1)

Prologue

Sophie

Rain pitter-pattered against the windshield, smearing the world in shadows.

Up ahead, a bridge began to emerge in the darkness and I wondered how much longer this drive would take.

I pulled my gaze from the wet road and took in the sweat gathering at Jonathan’s temples, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

My steering wheel, since his car had been sabotaged by his psychotic ex.

I took a deep breath and stared back out the window, grateful for the crunch of the tires and the squeaking windshield wipers distracting me from how furious I felt.

There was nothing around, just trees hunched along the riverbanks and wind whipping against metal.

The mood echoed the sentiment deep inside my heart.

I felt exhausted, hurt, and somewhat strung along on a ride I’d never wanted to get on in the first place.

Yes, I was chaotic, but I liked the opposite in my men and relationships.

And ever since Jonathan and I had gotten back together two years ago, it had been messy and outright nuts with my boyfriend’s emotionally unstable ex.

My friend Violet, whose patients were some of society’s most unhinged, had only heard about twenty seconds of my ranting before she came to the conclusion that Jacqueline Madoc-Caldwell had to be certifiably crazy.

Yet, there she was, roaming this world and causing havoc, and the worst part was that Jonathan was letting her. Yes, I understood that they shared a child, but couldn’t he see that she was hurting Kai? Hurting me?

Jonathan was my first crush. My first love. It wouldn’t be easy, but I was starting to think it was time to cut the cord once and for all. Violet was right when she claimed I’d been hanging on to my first-love feelings for way too long, forgetting myself and my well-being along the way.

“Jonathan, we really need to talk,” I started slowly. “This cannot go on. Both of us know it, and it’s time we face it.”

“I disagree. I know you’re the best thing for me.”

I shook my head.

“There’s a saying I read somewhere that if you get on the wrong train, you should get off at the nearest station. The longer it takes us to get off, the more expensive, and, um, complicated the return trip will be and—”

“Gosh, Soph. Another metaphor?”

I sighed. “Yes, because I’m starting to feel like we’re pretending there isn’t a problem when we both know there is.

We cannot go back to the way we were before everything with Jacqueline happened.

I was eighteen then, too young and naive to know better, but now I know what I want, and this isn’t it. ”

“Are you telling me I’m not what you want, Soph?” he asked, his tone slightly bitter.

I shrugged. “I don’t want this mess. I have enough chaos in my professional life. I’d like my personal one to be more… calm and steady.”

“Well, talk about hurting a man’s ego,” he retorted dryly. “You’re the only person on this planet to leave me speechless and make my heart stop at the same time.”

“Please.” I scoffed.

“You’re the best thing that has happened to me. You’re patient and supportive,” Jonathan muttered, a dark expression dominating his features. He’d been in a foul mood all week, and it made me wonder if there was something more going on that he wasn’t telling me.

“I’m tired of being patient,” I retorted. “And I’m tired of this triangle.”

“There is no triangle, Soph.”

“It is when Jacqueline calls every day,” I pointed out.

“And I’m sorry, but what woman requests her ex’s sperm so she can give her kid another sibling?

It’s the twenty-first century, has she never heard of a modern family?

She can go meet someone else! Have their kid!

” I clenched my eyes shut, annoyed that I was getting worked up when the truth was I hardly cared at all anymore.

He let out a heavy sigh. “It’s unorthodox; however—”

“It’s freaking nuts. There’s no ‘however’ to it, Jonathan.”

“I did tell her she was out of her mind,” he protested. “And I’d never do that to you.”

“And there’s the fact that she’s your ex, yet she calls you more than I do.”

“You could always call me more.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s not the point and you know it. It’s always something with her, and you’re just entertaining it.”

“My lawyer says Jacqueline’s using that control as a tactic to keep me in court and cause trouble.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, cracking the window slightly and letting the cool October air seep into the car. I reached forward to turn up the heat as I continued. “But it’s always something. It’s been two years of crap. I’m about to turn thirty.”

“And you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He spoke the words in monotone, almost on autopilot. He didn’t even glance my way. Words didn’t mean crap if actions didn’t accompany them.

“Don’t you think her threats should be reported to the police?” I questioned, evading his last statement.

“No,” he claimed. “That would break Kai.”

My shoulders slumped. His son had endured more than any teenager should, but pretending his mother wasn’t dangerous wasn’t helping anyone. She had gone beyond the boundaries of sanity and was now a threat to all of our safety.

And then there was the fact that I was beginning to feel like a third wheel. I deserved more and wanted to feel peace, like I did before Jonathan entered my life.

Instead, every time I thought we’d all moved on, she’d strike again. But as of late, it’d gotten so much worse, and I was at the end of my rope. I’d begun to question my sanity and life choices, and the constant chaos left me wanting out.

The two of us had reunited during my visit to Croatia with my cousin Kristoff, and then we spent two years getting to know each other all over again. Two years of chances for our love to grow and for us to move on from the past. Yet, our past—well, his if we were being honest—just kept haunting us.

“Jonathan, I love you. I really do, but all this is too—”

“Don’t, Soph—”

His words were cut short as another car’s headlights beamed against the rearview mirror, blinding him.

Jonathan swerved and then everything seemed to happen in a blink.

A sudden impact snapped my body forward. Metal screamed. Glass burst into a thousand bright wounds. The world went weightless as the car slammed into the guardrail, tipped, and rolled once, twice, before crashing upside down with a bone-shaking thud.

Then there was silence, heavy and wrong, buzzing in my ears, drowning out everything else.

My body ached so bad that I couldn’t even draw a single breath without pain. The air tasted like smoke and copper. My seat belt bit into my shoulder, pain blooming sharp and hot.

Wet fingers brushed against mine.

Jonathan.

His hand found mine, fingers slick with blood, and I squeezed them weakly.

“I’m here,” he rasped. “Soph… I’m here.”

I let out a strangled sound that sounded like a mixture of a laugh and a sob.

My forehead was pressed against the shattered window.

Rain poured in, soaking my hair, my clothes, our joined hands.

I squinted and realized we’d made it onto the bridge after all.

The bridge that was now destroyed, just like my Jeep Cherokee.

It creaked, settling, but didn’t tip over the edge. Somehow, impossibly, we had survived.

Then the sound of a car door slamming registered, followed by footsteps approaching.

I turned my head just enough to see a pair of cowboy boots stop, planted on the wet pavement beside the wreck. Water streamed around them, carrying oil, our blood, and broken glass toward the edge of the bridge.

“Help,” I called out, my voice cracking.

“Please—” Jonathan’s voice cracked. “My girlfriend’s hurt. C-call an ambulance.”

There was no answer. No movement. Just the sound of an engine humming softly in the distance, meshing with the rain and the rush of the river below.

I started to despair until a gloved hand reached in through the broken window, gripping Jonathan’s arm, and relief surged through me so hard it hurt.

“Thank you, thank you,” I rasped, chanting the words through trembling lips. Tears slipped into my mouth, mixing with the coppery taste of blood, and I realized I must have bit my tongue in the crash.

Pulled free, Jonathan was dragged upright. He staggered once, then steadied. I craned my neck, trying to see his face, trying to smile at him through the pain, but then a gunshot split the air, echoing through the silent night and drowning out the sound of my whimpers.

I screamed just as the second shot followed, scrambling in horror and trying to free myself from the seat belt. The soft click released my restraint at the same time Jonathan’s body fell.

I gasped, staring at his body while my breaths came in short intervals. My brain struggled and failed to catch up with the gravity of the situation.

“What… No, no, no… Jonathan—”

Rain and blood washed over his face, a dark red stain pooling on the pavement and seeping into the broken asphalt. His hand twitched once, fingers curling as if still searching for mine.

The boots took a step back, then another, until they disappeared from my vision.

And all the while, rain kept falling, indifferent and relentless, as I let out a scream into the dark and empty Maryland night, my lover’s blank eyes fixed on me before I slipped into unconsciousness.

A pounding ache against my skull woke me up.

I peeled my eyelids open, only to be met with the buzzing fluorescent light that drilled further into my brain. I shut them again, then tried to move my head, but it felt too heavy.

Shifting my body sent a sharp pain flaring hot along my ribs and shoulder, stealing the breath from my lungs.

“Easy. Don’t move.” A familiar voice reached me as I forced my eyes open again.

My cousin Kristoff sat beside my bed, hunched forward, his face drawn with exhaustion. When he met my eyes, relief flooded his features.