Page 1 of When the Smoke Clears

Chapter 1

Sutton

“Goddammit!”Myshoutfillsthe cab of my truck as I drive recklessly into the night.

It’s an effort to steady my thoughts and formulate a plan. My clenched fingers ache from the pressure I put on the steering wheel. Maci declaring her love and ending the call is not how our story ends. I will not allow those to be the last words I hear from her lips.

I press Nick’s speed dial preset on the dash screen.

“Yo, man!” His carefree voice fills the cab.

“I need your help.” There’s no time for pleasantries.

His tone changes immediately. “What’s up? What can I do?”

“Where are you?” I blast through the intersection of the county road and Main Street, the truck tires bouncing onto the city street thanks to my speed coming down the hill.

“Just coming back from the lake, checking for poachers.”

“Can you meet me on Bluebonnet Cove? The address is twenty ten. Maci’s there and that fucker that attacked her the other night showed up. I’m in town headed that way.”

“Absolutely. I’ll call it in.” Some best friends might balk at being called directly into danger, but with Nick’s career as a Game Warden, he doesn’t even hesitate—though it’s not why I call him first. Nor is it why I think he jumps into action whenever it’s needed.

“Thanks. See you there.” I don’t wait for a response before disconnecting the call and dialing Maci back. My heart thrums faster with every unanswered ring. When I’m routed to voicemail, I hang up and repeat the process with the same result.

I ignore the possibility that I won’t make it in time, instead focusing on the knowledge that we’ll have backup, and being grateful that Nick has the sense to call this in, because I skipped that part. Meanwhile, every second spent not knowing what’s happening makes the vise holding my heart squeeze tighter and tighter. Another frustrated yell fills the cab.

The engine roars, yielding to my increased force on the gas pedal. My focus turns to not driving off the damn road before I make it there. The police could attempt to stop me for any of the countless traffic violations I’m committing, but nothing will stop me from reaching Maci first. It’s only been ten minutes since we spoke, but it’s still ten minutes too long.

Her street is pitch-black, aside from the ray of my headlights. Since all the houses on this street sit on at least five acres, even if any of the neighbors are home, there’s a good chance they won’t have a clue what’s going on tonight.

I whip into the driveway, taking the gravel drive between the symmetrical oak trees faster than usual. A black motorcycle sits near the house, and it’s impossible to stop before smashing into it with my truck. Not that I try. Metal crunches loudly, but I’m not worried about damage to the truck, thanks to the grill guard.

The transmission jerks into park, still settling as I jump out.

The clear pop of a gun firing greets me.

A curse flies from my mouth and I start running toward the fire pit, lit like a beacon in the center of the backyard. Movement on the other side of the pit is obscured by the smoke and flames.A second round fires.

The dark mass of grappling bodies tips to one side. Maci’s smaller figure is overtaken by Colt’s taller frame. She falls backward and Colt drops awkwardly to his knees before falling forward.

Free of the smoke and firelight, I take in the sight before me as I round the pit. Colt pins Maci down. Her head is thrown back as if her neck is hyper-extended. She’s sucking in wild breaths and her eyes are closed.

There isn’t a word for the panic cementing my body into place.

My voice breaks on the way out. “Firecracker?”

“Cowboy?” Her head lifts hastily from the ground, eyes shooting my way. “Oh my God.” Relief coats her words, and she drops her head back to the ground. There’s a catch to her breathing, like she might start crying.

“Fuck.” I yank Colt off her, chucking him to the side, half expecting him to roll and face me. He doesn’t fight back, his body limp. Maci attempts to crab walk backward from him, falling flat with a hiss. A pained grimace overtakes her face.

Colt’s neck is warm underneath my fingers. I’m no medical professional, but I can’t find a pulse. Maybe I’m in the wrong spot? “I think he’s…”

Dropping my hand from Colt, I move back to Maci, caught between physically assessing for injuries and not wanting to add to any potential pain. My eyes pinball over her and start to travel in an erratic downward path. “Are you hurt? Did you get shot?”

“Sutton! Maci!” Nick yells from somewhere far off.

Neither of us responds as Maci says, “He stabbed me.” Her left hand raises and loosely indicates the injured area on her lower torso before falling back to the ground. “It stings like a bitch, but I don’t know how deep it is.”

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