Page 3 of Fate Awakened

Storming out of the office, I’m frustrated that this trip’s a complete waste of time. I head to the master bedroom and scan through, looking for anything to help me unravel his connection to Bri and Marlo.

Standing at the center of the room is a giant king bed set on a high frame with intricately carved hardwood head and footboards. The mattress is made up with a simple black comforter and three large pillows. Next, to the right and left of the bed, sit matching nightstands, and, based on the lack of clutter on the right, I assume he sleeps on the left side of the bed. I march over to the nightstand and pick up the book resting open and face down next to a pair of dark-rimmed glasses.

It’s a book titledApplied Cryptography: Protocols, Algorithms, and Source Code in C.He has highlighted and tabbed several sections on quantum processing, but the notes in the margins appear all but illegible to me. Also on the nightstand, sits a solitary framed photo of him with Liv and Bri. I pick it up, tenderly skimming it with my fingers, grazing over Bri’s smile. Her expression brightens her whole face, lighting her up in a way that overshadows the other two. My heart clenches, agony radiating from my core as my brain tumbles through scenario after scenario of where she could be, of what could be happening to her.

I’m coming, Firefly. Hold on.

The sound of Jake clearing his throat shakes me out of my reverie, and I steel my resolve before returning the photo to the nightstand and retreating from the room.

“Mason’s ready.” Jake’s words are clear and focused on the mission, but the look he’s giving me shows he’s far more concerned about where my head is as he handles me like a bomb about to detonate.

“Then let's get out of here. I want to talk to Kole.” I pass him glancing at the vacant office as I head for the stairs.

“We’re going to get her back,” Jake says. The confidence infused in his words halts my stride as the pain pulses once more in my chest. It feels as if a part of me has been ripped from the inside, and I sit here bleeding with no way to stitch the wound. All I can do is nod before I continue walking.

I know we will. We’re the best at precisely this sort of thing. We’ve returned hundreds of human trafficking victims to their families. We’ve stopped kidnappings and negotiated the safe return of those taken before we came on board. The only problem is the one thought that keeps ringing in my mind.

Will we find her before it's too late? Before she knows the truth of our world? A truth that in itself reveals all of my lies.

Chapter 2

Bri

Pain.Anoverwhelmingamountof pain takes over as my body trembles, adding to the sensation that I’m not okay. Ringing in my ears drowns out all else as if I'm trapped underwater, and I struggle to force my body to respond. Pounding in my temples intensifies the muffled noise while blood rushes to my head, my body weight pulling against my hips as if I’m suspended in midair, tangled in a sea of ropes. My mind claws at the strings of a memory before it vanishes like smoke. Tears leak unbidden as I try to grasp a tendril and remember where I am, what happened to me, and why I can’t move.

As I inhale, the phantom smell of burnt tires and gasoline fills my lungs, causing me to cough uncontrollably. I force my eyes open, my vision blurred with my tears, and I blink several times to clear them away. I lift my arm to wipe them, only to feel a searing pain emanating from my wrist, leaving me gasping and clenching my fist.

As the world focuses, I see our 2009 Geo Metro roof crumpled unnaturally and covered with debris from the car floor. I try to turn my head, wincing at the movement before my eyes land on my big brother Sam. He’s lying face down on the roof between the front and back seats. His arm, bent at an odd angle, lies lifeless near his hip. His legs remain hidden behind crumpled metal, but blood slowly pooling underneath him draws my eye.

My heart rate escalates, and I attempt to shout at him, but no sound escapes my throat. Panic builds in me as I fight to break free of my position, struggling against the restraints. Then, finally, sounds start sinking in past the ringing in my ears, and I faintly hear distant voices shouting. My eyes fall on the driver’s seat and the unconscious body of my mother dangling as if frozen and asleep, fully restrained by her buckle. Her stringy brown hair covers her face, and her bony, scarred and scabbed arms droop unmoving.

I take a minute to reexamine my injuries, not seeing anything missing or out of place. My right wrist is purple and swollen, but otherwise, I don’t have any visible damage. I attempt to shout again. This time my voice cooperates partially, and a gravel-filled sound escapes.

“Sammy!”

He stirs, barely moving before his eyes slide halfway open and scan the area. He faces our mother, but his profile is visible from my seat, and I catch the moment he realizes where he is. His eyes dilate and pop the rest of the way open, the adrenaline allowing him to turn his head. Searching, his eyes cover the car before landing on me, relief evident on his face.

He tries to talk, but I can’t hear him. No sound reaches my ears between the ringing and the pounding of my heart. So instead, I focus on his mouth, dry and chapped, as he says the words.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

I’m crying again. The stress of the accident, Sammy waking up, and the pain emanating through me are too much to hold in. I reach out to Sam with my good arm, feeling his dark brown curls with my fingers. I make it to his cheek before I realize he, too, is crying, which startles me because Sammy doesn’t cry. Not when he's hurt, not when the men she brings home hit him, not even when he's yelling at her. Sammy never cries. I blink away my tears, trying to be strong for him, pulling my hand back to play in his curls, in an attempt to reassure him without words.

The softness of them soothes me as time starts to stretch. I hear more faraway voices and see flashing red and blue lights so intense that they hurt my eyes. I lose consciousness for a time, only to wake to my brother's whispered voice.

“You’re okay…….lightning bug……..you’re okay. They’re coming to get us. Can you hear them? They’re coming to get you. Just hold on.” His crystal blue eyes connect with mine, and the heartbreaking realization hits me that I may lose him.

Breathing becomes difficult as I feel more tears fall. Memories of his lanky arms around me when I’m scared, his patience when I wanted all his attention, and the moments when I intentionally pushed his buttons only to have him attack with tickling fingers and laughter all flash between us. He tries to smile at me, but it's forced and full of anguish.

He coughs, it’s a wet sickening sound, and I see the blood droplets flying with each expression of air. I notice how pale he looks and know that the blood he’s losing is too much. Shaking my head, I try to bring myself out of the hazy fog. Sweat glistens on his chalky freckled skin, his eyelids fall closed, and his breathing becomes more erratic.

“No! Sammy! Wake up, no!” I scream at him, pulling on the curls still laced between my fingers. When he doesn’t respond, I turn, aiming my voice at the window.

“Help! Help us. My brother needs help!” I try to shout though it comes out just louder than a whisper. “Please, please help us!”

They can’t hear my pleas. They aren’t moving fast enough. They don’t know that my best friend, my safe place, my big brother, is slipping away.

It dawns on me that he will never cheer at my graduation, fight with me that my future husband isn’t good enough or walk me down the aisle in place of the father I’ve never had. That all of the inside jokes, the incessant teasing about my karaoke singing or taste in movies, and all of the plans we had to get far, far away are fading right in front of me.

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