Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Luckily I’d just paid my car off, so the only “extra” I’d have was entertainment funds.
And I didn’t have to go out to have fun.
As long as I had Netflix, I’d be happy.
“Are you ready?” Leland, Joseph’s brother, grumbled. “We’ve been waiting forever.”
They’d been waiting ten minutes.
But apparently, that was “forever,” according to them.
They weren’t used to waiting on anyone.
And the only reason they had to wait was because I’d had to use the restroom.
Imagine that.
Being cooped up in a car with your boyfriend who refused to stop for six hours and needing to use the restroom was not my idea of fun. The nerve.
“Let’s go,” I said, trying to sound cheerful and not managing it.
They all looked at me like I was the problem.
I kept my mouth shut and fell into step with them.
Then listened to them all complain when I was being slow.
I was slow.
I wasn’t out of shape.
In fact, I was in great shape. My job as a paramedic for the Albuquerque Fire Department demanded it.
I worked out a lot.
I just sucked at hiking because I had short legs.
Excuse the fuck out of me.
It was about halfway up to the top when it happened.
“Rock,” someone called up farther ahead than us.
We all stopped, but since his sister Constance was an asshole and liked to play her music for all to hear—I hated her music, and so did most hikers that we passed—I didn’t hear where the rock was coming from until it hit me.
You’re acting weird. First of all, I’m not acting.
—Garrett to Gable
GARRETT
1 ½ years ago
“You ever done this part of the hike before?” I asked Gable.
Gable and I were in Colorado for a family vacation.
The rest of our family had come, too, but it’d only been me and Gable willing to do this hike.
The rest of them were all hiked out from the last week of hikes.
Gable and I had wanted to come on this one in particular, so after we’d finished the hike this morning and eaten lunch, we’d decided to do this one before we left in the morning.
The others had stayed at the house with the promise of cooking dinner.
I hadn’t minded.
I didn’t get to spend as much time with Gable as I used to before he’d met his wife, Athena.
Not that I had any hard feelings against her.
I loved Athena.
I loved that she made my brother happy.
I also loved that she was there for him when he’d been shot a few months ago and we thought he wasn’t going to make it.
All because of me.
I had a hit put out on me months ago thanks to a new gang leader taking over the Breakers gang. Apparently, the new leader didn’t like that I’d fooled him when I was undercover years ago, and he made that known by telling everyone in his gang that if they saw me, to kill me.
Only, what they thought was me was actually my brother.
Gable was okay now.
Though, at one point, we didn’t think he would be.
I knew it wasn’t my fault.
That didn’t make my heart hurt any less, though, when I thought about my brother taking a bullet meant for me.
“No,” Gable said. “The last time I did this, this part was closed because of snowfall.”
Same for me. I’d been so damn bummed that I couldn’t finish the hike, but risking life and limb wasn’t something I was willing to do for a recreational activity.
“Same,” I said.
My brother and I liked to hike.
We traveled all over the place when we were in the military together, finding hikes all over the world to hit up when we had the time.
Colorado, being the closest to Dallas with great hiking, was our go-to hiking location when we wanted to hit up something close.
“Watch that. It’s a little slippery,” I said, pointing at a rock that’d shifted underneath my weight.
My brother didn’t reply in thanks, though, because he’d stopped.
I turned to look down at him, and his eyes were squinty.
He got like that when he was concentrating.
“What’s that?” Gable asked after a few long moments.
I tilted my head and frowned, my gaze searching around and finding nothing.
“What?” I finally asked, thinking he’d seen an animal of some kind.
“Shh, listen,” he urged, holding up his hand almost abruptly.
I did and could faintly hear the sound of a woman crying, calling out for help.
Hysterically.
“Shit,” I said as I hurried up the trail. “Where’s Boss when I need him?”
Boss was my K-9 partner at DPD—Dallas Police Department.
We’d been together for years now, and he was ultimately one of my best friends.
I didn’t bring him with me on any hikes lately, due mainly to the injury he’d received a few weeks ago during a call that had sprained a ligament in his left leg.
The woman wasn’t hard to find, though.
It took us another four hundred meters or so—me all out sprinting up the mountain—to get to her.