Chapter 8
There was screaming. Smoke. Alex tried to see through it, but everything was pitch-black. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t make out the noises that sounded like screams.
He had to calm himself down and focus. If he panicked, he’d never get out of here.
But that was the question. Where the hell was he?
His eyes flew open, though he hadn’t known they were closed until that moment. He managed to suck in a deep breath as he looked around the dark room. He still didn’t know where he was, and the fear and confusion completely paralyzed him.
It was too dark to see. The screams had stopped. Where the hell was he?
He realized then that he was lying on the floor. Quickly, he got to his feet in a defensive position. Nothing in his brain was working together. Everything was all a jumbled confusion.
Afghanistan.
The crash.
Becca Denton.
He forced himself to breathe in and out. He counted to ten, inhaling the familiar smells of the ranch. He was in Montana. He was in Blue Valley. He was in the house.
Christ.
It was fine though. He straightened, trying to breathe evenly instead of the panicked gasps that were working through him.
He must’ve dozed off. Had a bit of a nightmare. That was fine. To be expected.
But…in the dark, he didn’t know what room he was in. He’d been on the floor, and he couldn’t quite make his body move to find a wall or piece of furniture.
He tried to work out the last thing he remembered. He’d eaten a dinner that Jack had made, and Alex had done his dish duty for the day. Jack and Gabe had wanted to watch some baseball and he had…
He heard footsteps and crouched, those old instincts humming along with the adrenaline of the dream he had woken up from. He forced himself to stand back up, but his body was shaking. He was shaken.
“Who’s there?” It was Becca’s voice. Surprisingly…not timid, but not confident either.
Scared.
“It’s me.” Except the first time he said it, no sound came out. He had to clear his throat and repeat it to get her to hear.
The light flicked on with no warning, and Alex flinched. Not just at the sudden light—the sudden movement in general bolted through him like panic.
“Alex?” It was only her voice that kept him centered in the present. He glanced at her. In her pajamas. Carrying a gun?
“What the hell do you have a rifle for?”
“What the hell are you doing in Burt’s office?”
He looked around then and realized that’s exactly where he was. In his dad’s office. In the dark.
He didn’t…he didn’t remember coming into his father’s office, and that prompted a new bolt of fear. He didn’t remember coming in here.
“I guess I had too much to drink tonight.” It was the only possible explanation. He’d…he’d wanted one, hadn’t he?
“You didn’t have anything to drink tonight. You went up before I did.”
“I must’ve come back down after you went to bed.”
She stared at him and he could see a myriad of emotions on her face. Confusion, fear, and worst of all, worry.