Page 3 of Finding Fate

"I'm not working, remember? Still on leave. Speaking of, do you think I should write a formal thank-you note to Drake for letting me hang here until I'm fully recovered? Maybe some pretty pink stationery. He'd like that. For something as secure as Fort Knox, it's pretty homey. I've made a few of my own—"

Tex moves a step closer. My teeth grind back and forth at the pity-laced stare he levels my way. "No one blames you, Snowflake."

I grit my teeth so hard they might shatter under the pressure. "Blames me for what, Tex?"

"For holing up here. For tapping out. Fuck, the condition we found you in—"

Nope. Not going down that road.

Not sober, at least.

"Just tell me what you came to say and leave. I have a case of beer waiting for me."

After a quick exchanged glance, they both stomp up the wooden stairs and walk past me into the house.

As I follow them in, I take a deep breath to control my rising fury. "Seriously, guys, you—"

"This place is a pigsty, you damn idiot. Fuck, what is that smell." Both men sniff in varying directions before scowling at me. "Did something die under the house, or is that just you?" Raider continues. "I'll call someone to get this place cleaned up. Today." He runs a finger along the dust-layered stone mantel and cringes. "No wonder the Army kicked your ass out."

Enough stalling.

I cross the room and grip his shoulder to turn him so he’s facing me straight on. "Just. Tell. Me. I need to know. After this long, I deserve to know."

Raider’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, then clears his throat. "We found her. We think. Based on the fingerprints—"

"How long?" I rasp. My grip on his shoulder is near bone-crushing but he doesn't flinch, doesn't say a word. "How long has she been dead?"

In my periphery, I notice Tex casually move to the front door and turn, almost like he's standing guard.

Fuck. Fuck.

The world swirls, the room blurs in my vision. All the cheap beer from last night fights its way up my throat.

"Snowflake. She ain't dead."

And just like that, everything stills. Every hope I had of her being safe shatters, and what little light I had left in my soul snuffs out, making everything inside me go dark and quiet.

I failed her. In every possible way, I failed her. My prayers of mercy have gone unanswered, and she's been living hell on earth while I've been here. Fucking recovering in this fancy house. Safe.

My blood boils. Disgust at myself builds, shutting off air supply to my lungs. In the distance, car doors slam shut and gravel crunches under several sets of feet.

"Snowflake," Raider shouts, giving me a good jostle to pull me out of my downward spiral. "Look at me, damnit. Don't you pass out on me."

It's only when my eyes lock back with his that he finishes what he came to say.

"She ain't dead. She's here."

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