🗝️Detective Ryker Viltarin must uncover dark secrets before he loses not only his heart, but also his life.🗝️
You're on your own, far from home
The wind is blowing in the top of the pines
A gloomy sky where the sun never shines
Dee...
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A soft sigh escaped Ryker's lips and mingled with the steady patter of water droplets falling from his skin onto the shower tiles.
The steam danced around him, enveloping him in a gentle embrace. His shoulders trembled despite the warmth that had long since driven the cold from his bones and muscles. His fingertips spasmed and twitched at irregular intervals.
»Fucking hell,« came the curse low and rough from his lips.
Ray lowered his gaze, looked at his trembling palms, and watched for a few heartbeats as they filled with the pattering drops, overflowed, and the water continued on its way. He felt the warm rivulets between his fingers and heard the monotonous, soothing splashing.
He had just calmed down.
The adrenaline that had energized his body had subsided.
Nothing had happened to Liam. The pills had finally started to work, and then ...
Cursing again, he tussled his hair, wholly soaked again from the long shower, and hung in thick, dark strands in his face.
Just at that moment, that damn doctor turned up!
He wouldn't have cared if he'd looked at the boy. After all, Liam had almost drowned and was undoubtedly hypothermic. This condition was more dangerous for a child than for an adult. After all, Ray only wanted Liam to be well.
But no, then Dr Taylor wanted to examine him, too.
At this point, at the latest, he saw red. Neither Dr Taylor's words nor Eve's well-meaning attempts at reassurance could change that. He was old enough to know for himself when he needed a doctor's help and when he didn't. After all, he had only been in the water for a few minutes. After all, he had only been in the water for a few minutes and...
He was fine.
He was always fine.
At least, that's what he kept telling himself. Even though a part of him knew he was lying to himself.
Fingers still buried in his hair, he closed his eyes. With a soft groan, he let his forehead sink against the cool, steamy tiles. He forced himself to inhale deeply through his nose and exhale through his mouth. His senses seemed taut as a bowstring and, at the same time, cloudy as if through a veil. The jets of water hit his shoulders and back like small hailstones. Slowly, the tight grip on his hair loosened until he finally lowered his hands.
