Page 2 of Human Reclaimed
But I knew deep down that if Travis and Meredith were still alive, they would tell me to get my ass in gear and stop feeling sorry for myself.
Several hours later, I stood at the side entrance of the facility as Camille wound her bright red scarf around her neck, her eyes darting nervously to her watch.
“Are you sure you don’t mind locking up? The caroling starts in twenty minutes, and my mom will kill me if I’m late again.” Her breath puffed white in the cold December air.
“Go,” I chuckled, nudging her toward her car. “I’ve got this. Wouldn’t want your mom thinking I’m a bad influence.”
Camille paused, her expression softening. “Maybe do something fun tonight? That new coffee shop downtown is open late. They have live music on Thursdays.”
“Yeah, maybe I will.” The lie slid easily from my lips.
“Talia Reed, I know exactly what you’re going to do. Sweatpants, bourbon, and that Christmas movie you’ve seen sixteen times.”
I feigned offense. “It’s fourteen times, thank you very much.”
“Promise me you’ll at least think about it? Something different tonight?”
“I promise I’ll think about it. Now go, before your mom adds me to her naughty list.”
Camille hugged me quickly, the scent of her vanilla perfume surrounding me briefly before she dashed to her car. I watched her taillights disappear down the road before turning back into the empty facility. The silence pressed in around me as I moved through the rooms, shutting down computers, checking windows, and turning off lights. My footsteps echoed on the linoleum floor.
The veterans’ Christmas cards were drying on the rack in the recreation room, glitter catching the lights above just before I switched them off. Some Christmas traditions continued. Others ended abruptly, with blood in the snow and screams that still echoed in my nightmares.
After completing the final check of the building, I locked the main door and walked out into the biting cold. The parking lot was dark, the facility’s budget too tight for proper lighting. Only a few flickering lamps cast pools of yellow light across the asphalt. My phone buzzed with a weather alert, and I pulled it out.
My heart clenched at the lock screen. Travis, Meredith, and I were decked out in the ugliest Christmas sweaters we could find, celebrating at that ski lodge party. Travis had a tinsel crown askew on his head, Meredith was mid-laugh, and I was actually smiling—really smiling. Three years ago, before everything went to hell.
The weather app confirmed what the heavy clouds promised—a severe snowstorm rolling in within the next few hours. Nine o’clock already. I needed to get home.
I trudged toward my car, keys clutched in one hand and phone in the other. The cold numbed my fingers as I reached for my car door. A movement reflected in the window—a dark shadow behind me.
Before I could react, strong arms grabbed me from behind, one hand clamping over my mouth. My training kicked in instantly. I slammed my elbow back, connecting with something solid. I heard a grunt—distinctly male—as my attacker momentarily loosened his grip.
“Target is resisting,” a deep voice muttered.
I twisted, managing to wrench one arm free. A second man appeared from the shadows, dressed in dark tactical gear that looked eerily familiar—not standard military issue but something too similar.
“Need some assistance?” The second man’s voice was clipped.
My first attacker adjusted his grip, pinning my arms. “Unnecessary. Securing the target now.”
I kicked back, connecting with his shin. “Let me go, you son of?—”
The large attacker spun me around, and for the first time, I got a clear look at his face in the dim light. Piercing blue eyes, sharp features, and dark auburn hair cut short on the sides. A small scar above his left eyebrow. Not the face of a common thug or mercenary.
“Captain Talia Reed,” he said, his voice deep and controlled.
My blood froze. No one used my rank anymore, not since I’d been discharged from the army two years ago.
“Who the hell are you?” I demanded, struggling against his iron grip.
Something flickered across his face—hesitation? Doubt? It vanished almost immediately.
I twisted more forcefully against his strong hold, my muscles straining. “Tell me who you are and what the hell you want with me. Now.”
His eyes locked on to mine—intense and focused, almost hypnotizing in their clarity. Something was unsettling about his gaze, too direct and unwavering.
“This isn’t personal.” His voice rumbled deep in his chest.
