Free Fall

Chapter 1

"Pops," I call into the house, sliding my shoes off and kicking them into the corner. "I'm back. Have you had dinner?"

I set down the bags of groceries biting into my arms and crane my neck around the corner. My dad isn't in his usual spot in front of the TV.

I grow suspicious when Charlie, the cutest mini Australian shepherd you'll ever meet, doesn't come bounding around the corner to greet me. I whistle for him, but a moment later there's still no sign of him.

I crane my neck to see around the corner toward the kitchen. There's a shadow cast across the floor that belongs to someone much thinner and taller than my dad.

I nearly trip over the discarded bags of groceries in my rush to reach the kitchen.

I stop short in the doorway and take in the scene before me. Two men stand on either side of my frail dad, who sits crumpled and tied to a wooden chair. His face is damp with tears and he peers up at me through the unruly locks of hair that have fallen over his eyes.

"Lynn," he whimpers. It's been a long time since I've seen my dad so weak. He usually puts up a pretty good front, though his eyes normally don't drift far from the TV at all.

I swallow and shove my hands into my pockets to hide their shaking.

"What do you want? We have no debts to you."

The man on the left grins, bearing yellow teeth.

"How naive of you."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Don't play games with me. Tell me what you want so I can pay it and get out of here."

He tsks and steps closer to me. My dad watches helplessly as the sluggish man advances.

"I understand what he sees in you now," he grumbles as he nears me and lifts a hand to my face. "This much beauty is wasted on a woman with such a foul tongue."

A gun goes off suddenly and I stumble back into the kitchen counter when a hot splatter hits my face. The snively man in front of me shouts and waddles back, clutching his bloody hand.

"I was very clear that she should not be touched until I arrived. Count yourself lucky I left you your arm."

Oh my god.

I'd know that voice anywhere. It's haunted me for years. It haunts me every second of every day like a gorgeous memory.

It's deeper, gruffer than I remember.

Is this a dream?

"Should I pinch you to prove that it isn't?" he speaks again, even closer this time.

Did I say that out loud?

Somewhere in the pit of my stomach, I yearn to see his face, beg him silently to step in front of me so I can see him again.

Is he really here?

I let the counter behind me support my weight and let my heavy eyes fall shut just as a warm hand strokes my cheek.

My face feels cool. Am I crying?

"Open your eyes." He's so close now that I can feel his breath fan my cheeks. I know if I open my eyes I'll look straight into his. Can I handle that?

"What are you doing here? After all this time?"

"Look at me and I'll tell you."

I pry my eyes open look straight into the mesmerizing pools of grey-blue that I see each time I sleep. My dreams have done them no justice.