The figure swam above me again, his face coming in and going out of focus. In and out. But every time my vision cleared, beauty struck me: dark hair and thick scruff around an angular jaw. A nose that looked as if it had possibly been broken at one point. And his eyes…
There was something about the deep blue. I wanted to drown in the pools. They were kind. Not mean. Not like the man’s angry brown ones.
“Halston, you’re safe now. We’re gonna get you out of here. Can you tell me where you’re hurt?”
I heard the other man calling off numbers and then the crackle of a radio.
I opened my mouth. Tried to speak. But nothing came out.
The man above me shifted, pulling something from a backpack. “Need to get you warm.”
As he moved to cover me with a blanket, he froze. His head jerked up, and he looked at the other man. “She’s bleeding. Been cut.”
The second man cursed. “The rest of the team is still thirty minutes out.”
“We gotta get her warm. She’s hypothermic.”
They moved around me.
Blue eyes hovered above me. “We need to move you. It might hurt. But we have to get you warm.”
“No,” I croaked. “Hot.”
Pain streaked through those beautiful blue eyes. “I know you feel hot, but your body’s lying to you right now. We’re going to move you. On three. One. Two. Three.”
Fiery agony ripped through me as the men lifted me onto something. But I didn’t make a sound. It was instinct. He always liked when I screamed. I’d learned to stay quiet and not give him the power.
Darkness wavered at the corners of my vision.
A hand gripped mine. “Halston, stay with me.”
Those fathomless eyes filled my vision. So beautiful. “Blue,” I whispered.
He squeezed my hand harder. “Halston!”
But I was already slipping under. I didn’t mind. At least I’d be drowning in kindness when I went.
1
LAWSON
PRESENT DAY
I blinked against the early morning sunlight streaming through my bedroom window and tried to shift the weight off my bad shoulder—the one I’d hurt playing ball in high school—only I couldn’t move. Hell, I could barely breathe with the tiny foot shoved into my diaphragm.
A six-year-old shouldn’t have that kind of strength. But Charlie slept wild, like some wildebeest trapped in a cage. He kicked and punched. He’d even given me a black eye one night. That had been interesting to explain at the station.
Currently, he’d twisted himself sideways in my California king, so I had less than a foot of space and had his heel planted firmly in my gut. At least, it wasn’t the face this time.
My alarm blared on my nightstand, and I reached over the small lump in my bed to shut it off. My eyes burned as if someone had poured acid into them.
Coffee. I needed coffee. Preferably an IV drip I could carry around with me all day.
As I shifted to lay back on the pillow, Charlie jerked, his legs lashing out, one striking me directly in the balls.
The strangled noise that escaped my throat sounded like a wounded animal going through puberty. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.
Charlie stretched, oblivious to the fact that he had just ended all possibility of me having any future children. Good thing the three I already had were enough.
He smacked his lips. “Morning.”
I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, waiting for the pain to pass.
Charlie’s brow scrunched. “You’ve got a funny face, Dad.”
I let one last breath out. “Just tired, bud.”
He grinned at me. “I slept great.”
Of course, he had. Even though I risked injury and possible death, I couldn’t say no when my six-year-old appeared at my door after having a nightmare.
I studied my little man, his dark hair sticking up in all directions. He had more nightmares than his older brothers seemed to have. A weight settled in my gut, worry that past events had somehow embedded the nightmares there.
Charlie flicked my nose. “Stop staring.”
I chuckled, tickling his sides. He squealed and jumped out of bed, a flash of color in his pajamas. They were his favorites, the ones covered in frogs. I’d had to order two more pairs because he refused to sleep in anything else.
“Daaaaaaaaad,” Charlie whined, but I heard laughter in his voice.
“Do me a favor and go wake up your brothers.”
A glint lit Charlie’s eyes—irises a blue so similar to mine. “Can I jump on them?”
“Whatever it takes, Charlie Bear.”
His grin was huge, and he let out some sort of war cry as he ran from my room.
I flopped back down on the mattress, my balls still aching. That kid would be the death of me.
My head throbbed, trying to think about the last time I’d gotten a full night’s sleep. I honestly couldn’t pull it from memory. Maybe the miracle would come this weekend. If Charlie was exhausted from his uncle’s wedding, and Drew and Luke didn’t pull something stupid.
I would sell a kidney for a good twelve-hour stretch of rest.
“Get the hell out of my room,” Luke bellowed from down the hall.
Shit.
I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of my bed. Twelve hours wasn’t coming anytime soon.
“You killed the Fruit Loops,” Luke growled at his younger brother.
Drew looked up from his phone with a shrug. “I was hungry.”
Luke turned his thunderous look at me. “And let me guess, we don’t have any more.”
My back teeth ground together as I moved toward the pantry. I’d known the teenage years wouldn’t be easy, but it was as if Luke had morphed into a different human being when he turned sixteen. He mainly communicated in grunts and scowls and never told me what was actually going on in that head of his.
It cut more than he’d ever know. He’d made me a father, and we’d always had a special bond. Fishing, hiking, camping. We did it all. Until he suddenly wanted nothing to do with me, seemingly overnight.
I scanned the pantry shelves: Cheerios. Cocoa Pebbles. Shredded Wheat. Cap’n Crunch. Kix. No Fruit Loops. I winced as I saw that while we had a world of cereal, we didn’t have much else. I needed to get to the grocery store. Stat. I grabbed all the boxes and headed back into the kitchen.
Depositing them onto the island, I met Luke’s pissed-off stare. “Bad news. No Fruit Loops. Good news? We’ve got every other cereal known to man.”
Luke shoved back his stool. “I’ll get something at school.”
I opened my mouth to argue but then closed it. I’d learned that I needed to pick my battles with Luke. And whether or not he ate breakfast at home was not the hill I wanted to die on.
Drew and Charlie didn’t seem to even register their eldest brother’s outburst. It happened so often that it was just background noise to them now. Charlie had his nose shoved into a book about reptiles, and Drew’s fingers flew across his cell phone screen. I’d gotten him the damn thing so he could let me know where he was or if one of his various sports practices ran late, but it was now permanently attached to his hand.