Page 1 of Fourteen Years

Prologue

Before the Incident

There was a soft knock on the front door, causing Trevor to break off his sentence suddenly.

“Dammit. Hold that thought.” I dropped my pen and pushed back from the rustic farmhouse table my husband had finished refurbishing for me the weekend before.

Trevor nodded, looking weary and worried. He’d stopped by after his shift at the firehouse, still in his work clothes. His blonde hair was tousled and his green eyes had bags under them. He probably wasn’t sleeping well again. He’d caught word of our recent situation and wanted to check on our daughter, Lacey. Used to the chaos of our household he looked at his phone to entertain himself.

Running over to the front door, sliding in ridiculously fuzzy socks that Paul made fun of me for wearing all the time, I skidded to a stop and stood on my tiptoes. My stomach fell to my feet meeting the gaze on the other side of the window. Lowering back to the hardwood floor and staring at the door, waves of nausea rolled through me.

“Mon?” asked Trevor from behind me. I hadn’t even heard him rise from his chair. Soft footsteps came closer behind me as I sensed his presence. “Why aren’t you opening the door?” he laughed softly to avoid waking the three girls lying on the living room floor. They had made a nest of pillows and blankets, giggling and whispering until sleep had overtaken them.

Everything felt like I was underwater suddenly or wrapped in cotton. Finding myself shaking my head back and forth I took the first shaky breath since looking out the window.

Being married to a cop for well over ten years gave me a startling knowledge that the uniform outside on my porch at nearly midnight meant one thing. I raised a shaky hand to my forehead, my mind rushing. It wasn’t his partner and I had to worry about that fact as well. That meant something horrible may have also happened to my best friend. To all of them.

The knowledge of knowing part of the news before even opening the door had my gut clenching and a soft whimper escaped my dry lips as my eyes stared at my hand on the gold shiny doorknob.

“Mon?” Trevor asked again, louder, concerned. He was right behind me, towering over me as everyone did at my height. “What the fuck?” he muttered reaching around to place his larger hand over mine. Before I could deny him, and stop this from happening, he turned it, pulling the door open with a soft creak. Unknowingly, he was forcing us to face a hell I wasn’t prepared for.

“Monica,” said Nick, softly. His brown eyes were kind, but shone with unshed tears. I found myself fixating on the gray starting to show in his brown hair. He was older than all of us, but still a very good friend. More a big brother figure.

Shaking my head again, I heard myself taking gasping breaths. My hand clutched the door frame as I watched his mouth begin to move.

That’s all it took for my world to come crashing to ruin.

My knees hit the ground hard, landing on the concrete porch with a painful thud. It may hurt later when the shock over the situation had worn off. Trevor’s arms went around me, his biceps clenching as he uttered a soft grunt, landing behind me. Nick lowered to a crouch in front of me, reaching out like he wanted to keep me from shattering. I was surrounded by Nick and Trevor but felt absolutely alone suddenly.

I heard them talking from somewhere far off as my heart ripped to shreds in my chest. Nick’s voice was soft, explaining how it had happened and Trevor’s voice broke, cursing in response. My whole body was numb but I could see myself visibly trembling like I was cold.

I couldn’t breathe.

Paul.

Paul!

I took a long, audibly shaking breath in.

Then I screamed.

One Year and Four Months Later…

Chapter 01

“You ask her, Lexi.”

Sighing and bracing myself, I turn around and deal with the daily sister drama occurring behind me. Lately, they chose to fight over anything and everything. The four year age difference did not help matters now that they were seventeen and thirteen.

“Ask me what?” I spoke, turning from the stove to meet the green eyes of my oldest daughter. “Lacey?” I questioned, speaking again when she hesitated to answer.

My seventeen-year-old huffed the biggest sigh known to mankind and tucked her pretty chin length blonde hair behind one pierced ear. She had gotten it cut during a weekend with her father and suddenly looked twenty-something-years-old to me. She braced her hands on the kitchen bar, countless bracelets clinking together, and hauled herself up onto it. Kicking her bare feet she wiggled, seeming to settle in for the long haul.

This had something to do with Paul then.

“Lexi is scared to ask you.” Lacey began in a low voice, her green eyes flicking over to the wall hiding the stairs leading to the second floor of our ranch-style house.

“I’m not scared!” my youngest rounded the corner suddenly, her fair skin reddening in anger. Long, beautiful hair, the auburn-color of her father’s, swung around her shoulders as she pointed an angry finger at her older half-sister. I raised both hands to silence them both before they could settle into a true argument.

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