Chapter 26

chapter

twenty-six

Pain. Searing, unbearable pain. His arm—gone. His breath ragged and shallow.

Rylan knew what was coming. It was always the same, and even in sleep, he braced for the recriminations, the guilt.

You did this…

But Shane’s lips didn’t move. Fuse didn’t crawl over and grab his boot.

And suddenly, the ground shifted beneath him, and he fell through the sand. The cacophony of battle gave way to an eerie quiet. Walls, dingy and gray, rose around him, and he landed on a dingy mattress. The air was stifling, reeking of mildew and urine and unwashed bodies.

“Is he dead?” A boy’s voice, small and scared.

“No, I don’t think so.” Another voice. Female. Also young.

Rylan jolted upright looked for the source. A girl with tangled blonde hair stood nearby, clutching the boy to her chest.

Grace and Noah Holt.

This wasn't how the dream usually went. He was still in his battle gear, his arm was still spurting blood, but he didn’t feel it. Instead, pain throbbed through his head. His eye and jaw both hurt as if he’d been used as a punching bag. He opened his mouth to ask what the hell was happening, but no words came out.

“Help us,” Grace whispered, her voice trembling. “You promised.”

Noah peeked out from behind his sister, his small face streaked with dirt and tears. “You said you’d come back for us. You said we’d be safe.”

The words sliced through him like a blade. Promised? To keep them safe? But how? When? He had no memory of ever meeting these kids before, let alone making any vow to protect them.

“I-I don’t understand,” Rylan stammered, his voice hoarse and foreign to his own ears. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you. We’ve never met. When did I promise that?”

"You have to remember," Grace whispered.

There was a faint hum in the distance, a low, sinister vibration that seemed to crawl under his skin.

“I don’t?—”

The hum grew louder, becoming an oppressive roar inside his skull. He clutched his head, the room spinning as shadows began to creep along the walls, their tendrils reaching for the children.

“No!” he shouted, lunging forward to grab them, to pull them away from the encroaching darkness. But his legs wouldn’t move. His body was paralyzed, his breath caught in his throat.

The shadows swallowed the kids whole, and their screams echoed in his ears as the world collapsed into darkness.

Rylan bolted upright, the sweat-drenched sheets tangling around his legs as he struggled to free himself from the nightmare

“Rylan.” Izzy sat up beside him and pressed a hand against his back. Her touch was cool and soothing against his overheated skin. “Shh. You’re okay. It was just a dream.”

The nightmare’s grip loosened but didn’t release him entirely. His breaths still came in too-fast, shaky gasps as he tried to ground himself back in reality.

“Just a dream,” she repeated, moving closer to brush her lips over the ink on his shoulder. “You’re at home. You’re safe. Just breathe. Deep breath in, slow breath out.”

He focused on her voice, on the steady rhythm of her words, on the gentle caress of her fingers along his spine. Gradually, his breathing slowed and the tremors subsided.

“No, it wasn’t a dream. I mean, it was, but...” He leaned into her touch. “At first, it was the same nightmare I always have. The ambush, the explosion. Alejandro, Shane, Fuse, Mack. My arm…” He looked down, half-expecting to see blood and bone, but he’d fallen asleep with his prosthesis on. He stared at the metal hand as the fingers curled into a fist. “But then… it changed. And it didn’t feel like just a dream anymore.”

Izzy’s dark amber eyes searched his face in the dim light. “Changed how?”

He shook his head, still not understanding what his subconscious was trying to tell him. “I was with them. Grace and Noah. They were in some kind of dungeon-like room and they said I’d promised to save them.”

Izzy didn’t hesitate at the vulnerability in his voice, didn’t dismiss the absurdity of his words. Instead, she continued to rub circles on his back. “I’ve been dreaming about them, too.”

“Yeah, but it makes sense for you. You’ve known them their whole lives. They’re like family. I’ve never met them, so how do I know Grace has a mole right here?” He pointed to his collarbone.

She blinked in surprise. “You… must have seen it in a picture.” But she didn’t sound convinced.

“Or that Noah has a scar on his left elbow? I’ve never seen a picture of his elbow, Iz. I’ve only seen the photos you showed me on your phone.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again without making a sound. Her brow furrowed.

He shifted to face her. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me he doesn’t have that scar.”

Jesus, he hoped he was wrong. Because if he was right, he was losing his damn mind. Or worse… something sinister was going on that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Izzy swallowed hard, her eyes glistening in the faint light. “He does. From when he fell off his bike last year and needed stitches.” She stared at him like she’d never seen him before. “How do you know that?“

Rylan’s blood ran cold. “I don’t know.” He dropped his head into his hand and closed his eyes while something that felt suspiciously like a memory tried to claw free. “He… he told me. I wasn’t wearing my arm. He saw the scar on my stump and showed me the scar on his elbow.” His eyes snapped open as the memory solidified. “And I saw Grace’s mole because her shirt is ripped at the neck. Holy shit. I was there with them. Wherever they are, I was there . I spoke with them.”

Izzy exhaled in a rush like she’d been holding her breath. “How is that possible? You were in the hospital and…”

When she trailed off, he met her gaze. “How many days was I missing? When you all thought I’d gone on a bender?”

“Two, but—” Her eyes widened. “You don’t think you tried to kill yourself,” she said softly, piecing his thoughts together.

“Yeah, that’s the thing. I’m a high-functioning alcoholic. If I’d gone on a two-day bender, I still would’ve shown up to work. I would’ve followed up with Sawyer about that background check. And even when I was at my absolute lowest—a junkie living on the streets of LA— I was never suicidal. I was raised in a religious household, and even though I’m not sure where I stand with God these days, there’s enough of those teachings left in me that…” He shook his head, suddenly confident that this was the truth. “No, I didn’t try to kill myself. I think someone tried to kill me and cover it up as a suicide attempt.”

Izzy scrubbed her hands over her face. “Okay, I need coffee. I’m not awake enough for this conversation.” She slid out of bed, and he gave himself a moment to appreciate all that soft copper skin before she found her clothes on the floor and pulled them on.

She was beautiful.

And now that he had her, he wasn’t going to let her go again.

And he should tell her. He should lay it all out right here, right now, while cocooned in the early morning hours and after sex glow, before reality intruded. He should tell her how much she meant to him, how the thought of losing her again gutted him, how he was still angry about her betrayal but he was working to let it go and forgive her.

But before he could find the words, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Since he was closer, he rolled over and reached for it. “It’s Ash.”

She took the phone from his hand and frowned down at it. “Why would he be calling me this early?”

Rylan grabbed his own phone and, sure enough, he had several missed calls from the man. He showed her all the red in his call log. “Maybe because he couldn’t get a hold of me.”

“And he thinks I’d be with you at four a.m.?”

“Well, you are.”

“Good point.” She swiped to answer, putting it on speakerphone. “Ash?”

“Is Rylan with you?” Typical Ash. He was never one for small talk.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he called and got out of bed to dress. “What’s going on?”

“Noah Holt’s been found.”

Rylan’s heart leaped, then sank just as fast. Found didn’t mean safe. Or alive. One glance at Izzy told him she’d had the same thought. Her face had gone white, and the hand holding the phone shook.

“Alive?” he asked so she didn’t have to.

“Yes,” Ash replied. “Sorry, I should’ve mentioned that first thing. He’s being evaluated at the hospital, but so far, other than dehydration, he looks healthy.”

Izzy exhaled softly. “And Grace?”

“No sign of her yet. You two need to get here now. He’s asking for you.”

“Okay, I’ll be there?—“

“Not you,” Ash interrupted, and for the first time, he sounded like something other than his usual grumpy self. He sounded perplexed. “Rylan.”

Rylan froze with his jeans halfway up his legs. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Ash said with a slight undercurrent of accusation. “The boy’s worked up and says he’ll only talk to you. So care to explain how a kid you’ve never met knows your name, Cross?”

“I have no idea.” But that was a lie. He knew. He didn’t have all the pieces yet, but he had enough to see the big picture. He pulled his jeans the rest of the way up and fastened them with a trembling hand. “We’ll be there in fifteen.”

Izzy ended the call before Ash could say anything more and turned to him, her eyes huge, brimming with concern and unspoken questions. “You did meet them.”