Page 59 of Secrets Along the Shore
“Who are you calling?” Rian whispered.
“Shh.” She waited as the phone rang. Then it connected.
“Hey? What’d you do this time?” a groggy voice said.
A lump formed in her throat at the sound of her dad’s voice. Sleep made his Australian accent thicker. But it hadn’t changed otherwise.
“Dad,” she croaked. The words wouldn’t come out. Not like she wanted. Twelve years. Twelve years she’d hidden from him, living in her own world in Croatia. A dark place she’d wanted to escape for the last ten.
“Wait? Who’s this?” Something creaked on his end of the line. He sounded gruffer. Maybe he thought some random person woke him from his sleep. If so, he’d hang up any second.
After swallowing hard, she found her voice. “Dad, it’s me. Elara.”
“El…Elara? I-I thought?—”
Thud!
Elara jumped. That was a door, wasn’t it? Viktor’s men were searching the building. So she had maybe sixty seconds. She tugged Rian against her. The fear clawing up her throat made it harder to breathe.
“Dad, listen, I’m in trouble. I’m sorry, I don’t have time to explain. But I need you to help me.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“I will. I will. Just tell me where you are.”
Thud!
Another door.
Rian hugged her waist. He shook against her.
She fought the tears. “Dubrovnik, Croatia.”
THUD!
Footsteps brought someone to the closet. They were out of time. It was over.
“What’s happening? Who’s after you?” Worry filled her dad’s voice.
Bright light filled the space. She gasped and pulled away, her free arm coiling around Rian. She had to protect him. A rough hand grabbed her arm and yanked her from the closet. Her grip on the phone faltered.
“Viktor Kovac!” she shouted into the device before something smacked against her temple.
CHAPTER
TWO
June 4
12:00 p.m., Alice Springs, NT, Australia
Sometimes his survivalfelt more like a curse, than a blessing.
Seven men lost their lives due to an improvised explosive device, but he’d walked away with only a mild traumatic brain injury. His mates—his team—died. He’d lost his military working dog too. But he got to survive…with their deaths on his conscience. Their funerals were seared into his memory. The crying sisters. The devastated parents. The grieving widows and their children. And there was nothing he could do to fix it. His commanding officers refused to let him keep fighting to honor his men’s memory.
Tyler Reid roughed a hand over his face as he drove his Toyota Hilux out of town. His right hand gripped the steering wheel…but not because of traffic. Even at noon it was light and calm. He took a deep breath, failing to relax. Relaxing had never really been a part of his life. He checked an intersection before crossing it. He wanted to keep fighting. But the SAS threw him out. Gave him a medical discharge and told him to try something new.
Yeah, right. Something new.
How had his superiors not realized that the military was his life?He’d hardly left the Army base. He volunteered to go into war zones. Never had he considered doing something different in his eight years of service. And six months after his discharge, he still hadn’t figured out what to do.
