Six Years Gone (Gone #1)

by Jessica Gouin

  Mia looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, but Sloane intervenes.

  “How about some of me with these two striking boys and Sawyer can join in a few minutes? Lead the way, Mia!”

  I mouth a thank you to Sloane, my new sister, as she passes with Owen and Noah in tow.

  Once they leave, I turn my attention to the devastatingly gorgeous man standing in front of me, black suit with a white dress shirt underneath.

  “I thought I would be solo today.” I stare at the calla lilies in my hand. I can’t think clearly when he’s this close to me.

  “I’m sorry I left.”

  “Which time?”

  “Every time.”

  I’m finally courageous enough to bring my gaze to his, our eyes lock and the world around us slips away. Just as it always does.

  “You know I can’t keep doing this.”

  He steps closer and takes my empty hand in his. “I know. This past little while has been so…. I can’t even find words to describe it. But seeing you again, being with you again. Meeting Noah. I don’t care what happened before. I don’t care those six years are gone. I just want the next six and every one after that. I want a life with you. No more excuses. Our life starts now.”

  When his mouth presses against mine, it feels so good. So right.

  “I’m looking forward to a life with you.”

  After a million pictures and my cheeks are killing me from smiling so much, Mia finally says she’s finished. The dinner is simple, yet delicious. Sloane and Owen decided to forgo speeches, and I’m thankful. While dessert and coffee are being served, the DJ turns the volume up, and the easy, graceful songs which floated around us during dinner pick up pace and a few guests make their way to the dance floor. It’s not long before the sun lowers. The lanterns, more prominent, glow from above as Lachlan takes my hand and guides us through swaying bodies to the dance floor. I giggle when he spins me around the wooden floor.

  “I didn’t know you could dance,” I exclaim breathlessly, as he dips me, and my head to tilts back.

  “You never asked.” He brings me up to him.

  Noah snickers as he watches us spin and twirl.

  Lachlan bites his bottom lip and pulls me in close, swaying us both, brushing stray hairs from my ear. He brings his lips close. “I love you.”

  My flesh rises into goose bumps, and, wide-eyed, I stare at him for a moment. Everything inside of me lightens. “I love you, too.”

  A body wiggles in between us, and we separate. Glancing down, I notice Noah’s feet are bare. “Noah, baby, where are your shoes?”

  “They hurted my feet, so I took them off.”

  I bend down to him. “And where did you take them off?”

  Noah points to the main house. “In there, when Uncle O took me to the bathroom.”

  “Buddy, Aunt Sloane spent a lot of money on those. And you really shouldn’t be walking around without shoes on, silly boy.”

  “Sowwie, Momma.” His head tilts to the side the way it does when he knows he did something wrong and he thinks I’m going to be mad at him but he doesn’t want me upset.

  “It’s okay, buddy. Let’s just go get them, ’kay?” He nods and takes my hand.

  I turn to Lachlan, apologetic for having to put our moment on pause. “We’ll be right back.”

  “No worries, love. I’ll be here waiting for you.” Lachlan crouches down to Noah. “I hope those were dancing shoes.”

  “Dancing shoes?”

  “Heck yeah. Get those shoes on and get your butt back out here to dance with me and your momma.”

  Noah’s face lights up, and he takes off in front of me. I give Lachlan one more kiss then chase after my little man.

  Once we’re inside the small main house of the vineyard, we head for the bathrooms in the back.

  Noah runs past me into the room to grab his shoes while I stop to reapply my lipstick in the powder room mirror outside the bathroom.

  “Find them, buddy?”

  “Yeah, Momma. Just putting them on.”

  I smile at myself in the mirror and actually allow myself to feel the happiness. For the first time in a long time, my future—our future—looks optimistic.

  The door to the powder room closes, and I spin around expecting to see Noah or Sloane, even Owen or Lachlan.

  “Drew.” The last person I ever expected to see again stands before me. It takes my brain a moment for the panic to set in. When it registers who he is and how much danger we’re in, my body goes numb as though ice water was dumped on me. He looks different from what he did six years ago. A few more tattoos, hair slightly longer. Darker. More dangerous.

  “Hello, Sawyer.”

  “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were in prison.”

  He trudges forward, and I realize he’s wearing a suit. Why the hell does he have a suit on like he belongs here? This guy does not belong anywhere near me, or my child…. Shit! Noah.

  “I was invited.”

  “I seriously doubt it.”

  He reaches into an inside pocket of his jacket, producing a flask. Casually, he unscrews the lid and takes a swig, then offers it to me. “Want some? You might need a drink to get through tonight.”

  “Get the hell out of here. Right now, I mean it.”

  “What? Before all the fun begins?”

  Noah emerges from the bathroom and comes right to my side, not noticing another person in the room. “Momma, I got my dancing shoes on. Are you ready? Lachlan is waiting for us.”

  “Lachlan? Well, I had no idea you and he still…. One big happy family, huh?”

  Drew stares at Noah, so I move him behind me. I have to get Noah out of here. The alcohol coming off his breath is all the confirmation I need he’s hammered. A drunk Drew is a very dangerous one.

  “Momma, is this your friend?”

  “Yeah, baby, Drew’s a friend. Why don’t you run back to the reception and I’ll be there in a minute, ’kay, bud?”

  Still holding the flask, Drew slides his other hand into another side of his jacket and pulls out a gun, dropping his arm to his side. “Let’s all stay here. No one leaves.”

  I push Noah’s head into my thigh so he doesn’t see what Drew is holding. “Jesus Christ, Drew. What the hell are you doing? Listen, you can have me, okay? Just let him go…. He doesn’t have to be here.”

  “He’s the reason I can’t have you. He’s the reason why you’re bonded to another man. I told you not to have him. I said you were mine. Once I got out of prison, I knew I had to find you. You were all I thought about while I was locked up. Can you even image how excited I was when my buddy told me he was catering the Mathews/Reid wedding? It was like it was fate. You and I.”

  “You’re just as delusion now as you were then.”

  He smashes the gun against the side of his skull. “Don’t say that. I’m not crazy, and I’ve waited long enough.”

  A line of blood trickles down his forehead and onto his cheek.

  Drew raises the gun and points it at my baby, my son, my reason for breathing, and pulls the trigger.

  Chapter THIRTY

  Lachlan

  I don’t know how many minutes it takes to find shoes, but Sawyer and Noah are gone for so long I’m beginning to think they got lost.

  Owen stands at the bar to the left of the dance floor, staring me down, so I make my way over to him. I order us both shots of whiskey and cheers him while we shoot the burning liquid back.

  “So, how’s married life?” I signal for the bartender to bring two more shots.

  “I’ve been married for less than six hours and I’ve barely seen my wife since we said I do. I think she’s over there with her grandma.” He gestures his with head.

  “Doesn’t sound so bad.” I laugh.

  “Listen, bro, I’m not going to sit here and have the what are your intentions talk with you. You know enough about me and my sister to know she deserves a good man, and I’ll make sure she’s with one.”

  We
swallow our next round of shots, and I wait for the burning to subside.

  “I’m going to give her the world, mate.”

  A loud shriek pierces the air and sends shivers down my spine. Owen and I both drop our shot glasses, and it feels like slow motion when they collide with the ground and shatter. We rush past the wedding guests to the main house where a crowd is forming. I scan the scene for Sawyer and Noah, but it’s difficult to see anything through the chaotic swarm of screaming bodies.

  I don’t see Noah and Sawyer, but I notice the smoke billowing from an open window.

  The vineyard house is on fire.

  I don’t think, I don’t panic, I don’t plan.

  I just run.

  With Owen right behind me, we open the front door and immediately lose vision in the dense smoke filling the room.

  A man rushes past me, his arm draped over his face, coughing.

  I pause to look left then right. “Which way is the bathroom? That’s where Sawyer and Noah are. He left his shoes there.”

  “Fuck.” Owen darts to the left, and I follow.

  We reach a closed door, and Owen tries the knob. He lets go and shakes his hand. He looks at me with a terrified expression. The fire’s in that room, which is where Sawyer and Noah are.

  Owen steps back and kicks the door twice. It swings open, and we’re blasted with heat and thicker, heavier smoke.

  A silhouette comes into view a few feet from away from us.

  “Sawyer?” Owen calls out as we approach.

  Only, it’s not Sawyer. It’s Noah.

  Grabbing his arms, I inspected him quickly. “You’re okay. It’s okay, you’re going to be fine. Noah, where’s your mom?”

  He stares at me blankly. All life is vacant from his eyes.

  My grip on his shoulders tighten. “Noah, it’s okay. We’re going to get you out of here, but you have to tell me where your mom is first, okay, bud?”

  He raises his arm, and I look to where he points.

  There’s a body lying on the floor a few feet away.

  The ceiling cracks above us as the fire spreads, and it won’t be long before flames engulf this entire structure and it caves in on us.

  Owen rushes to Sawyer’s lifeless body. “Get him out of here. Now! I’ve got Sawyer.”

  Panic courses through me, and I can’t comprehend anything that’s happening. We were just dancing a few moments ago.

  With one last look at them, I scoop my son into my arms and run.

  I manage to make it through the wild flames and dense smoke back to the front door just as sirens fills the air. An emergency crew rushes to me, trying to take my son from my arms. I tighten my grip, refusing to let go.

  “Sir, it’s okay. Let us have a look. We just want to help him.”

  I peer down into his sweet innocent face with smoke smudged on his cheeks and forehead. He’s silent, yet his eyes are screaming for me to keep him.

  “I can’t let go. He needs me. I’m his father.”

  Noah buries his face into my chest.

  Sloane frantically runs to me. “Are they in there? Are Sawyer and Owen in there? God, tell me they’re okay.”

  “Sir, please. The child needs medical attention, and so do you. You can ride with him in the ambulance to the hospital.”

  “We have to wait for his mother. They were right behind me. They’ll be out any second.”

  Why aren’t they out yet?

  Sloane rubs Noah’s back, and he turns from her, burying himself further into me. “Lach, ride with him. Sawyer will meet you there. She would want Noah to go.”

  With Noah still snug in my arms, I climb into the back of the ambulance and the attendant places masks on the both of us after I reassure Noah he’s going to be okay and I’ll stay with him. I’m not going anywhere.

  As we pull away, I can’t take my eyes off the scene it front of me. We turn out of the parking lot just as an explosion erupts from the vineyard, sending glass and debris in every direction.

  Were they out…?

  I remove my mask and try to scream, but Noah grips me harder.

  So instead, I helplessly cling to him and pray.

  It’s been two hours.

  Two hours since she told me she loved me.

  Two hours since my life literally exploded in front of me.

  Sloane sits beside me in the plastic waiting room chair. We cling to each other, surrounded by most of the guests from the wedding. Her dress is singed and her hands are bloody.

  A doctor comes through the door, and everyone stands.

  “For Noah Mathews.”

  I stayed with Noah as long as I could. The doctor literally pried him from my arms. He still remained silent.

  “I’m his father.”

  “Okay, Mr. Mathews”—I don’t bother to correct him—“he’s stable. He did have some smoke inhalation, so we’d like to admit him for observations as a precaution. If everything goes well tonight, he could be discharged tomorrow. He’s asleep for the moment, but once he’s awake, we’ll let you know so you can see him.”

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  He nods then disappears back through the double doors.

  I take a seat and wait for more news.

  An eternity later, another doctor emerges. “For Owen Mathews.”

  Sloane and I both rise with her parents. Her father helps to hold his daughter. “I’m his wife.”

  The words are strangled as they come out of her mouth. I doubt this is how she imagined she would first use those words.

  “Mrs. Mathews, your husband is stable.”

  Sloane lets out a sigh so enormous her body slumps with relief.

  “He suffered burns on the left side of his body, including his arm, hand, and face. He has a long road to recovery in front of him, and it’s a bit early to know whether he’ll require surgery or if skin grafts will be needed. Our major concern at the moment is nerve damage. A plastic surgeon will come in to assess him first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Sloane’s eyes fill with tears. “We’re supposed to leave on our honeymoon tomorrow. How is this even happening to us?”

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Mathews. I can take you to see him now.”

  She looks from the doctor to me then back. “What about my sister? What about Sawyer Mathews?

  “She’s still in surgery.”

  I place my hand on her shoulder. “Go see your husband. I’ll come get you when I have news about Sawyer.”

  She nods weakly and walks away with the doctor.

  I turn to her parents, looking into their grief stricken, traumatized eyes. “Why don’t you two go get some coffee or air?”

  Time passes as I sit in the waiting room, rubbing my silk tie between my fingers, trying to feel something. All I am is numb.

  The first doctor, the one that treated Noah, emerges from behind the doors once more. I stand in anticipation.

  He removes his mask and wrings in it his hand as he approaches me. My eyes lock on his actions. He doesn’t state her name. He knows I’m here for her.

  He clears his throat. “I’m so very sorry.”

  No.

  “We did everything we could.”

  No.

  “The injuries from the gun wound were just too severe.”

  “Gun wound?”

  “Ms. Mathews was conscious when she arrived. She told us the shooter was aiming for the boy and she stepped in front of him to protect him. The bullet penetrated her large vein, the inferior vena cava. Despite our best efforts, we couldn’t control the bleeding.”

  No….

  We were supposed to dance. She was coming right back to me. She loves me, and we can be together. Her and Noah were coming right back. She’s his mother.

  She’s a mother.

  This can’t happen. We were supposed to have eternity.

  I promised her I wasn’t going anywhere. She wasn’t supposed to leave me.

  I crumble to my knees, and the doctor places his hand on my shoulder
.

  Six years ago, I met a girl, who became the love of my life.

  Six years ago, the choices I made took her away from me.

  Six years ago, she made me a father.

  Those six years are gone.

  Just as the girl is….

  First came Sawyer and Lachlan’s story.

  Then comes Sloane and Owen’s story.

  Don’t miss the next novel in The Gone Series, Edges of Gone by Jessica Gouin.

  Acknowledgements

  The first thank you goes to you, the reader. Without you, this book wouldn’t exist. Well, that’s not true. It would exist, but, it wouldn’t be real. You, my reader, make the characters come alive by reading their stories and giving them purpose. Thank you for taking a chance and reading this story. If you liked it, or even if you didn’t (I hope you did!) please, please, please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews are tremendously important to Indie Authors.

  To the supportive members of Write on Windsor, for allowing me to bring my ideas to the table, and providing enormously helpful critiques. Sorry for all my swearing!

  To all of my author friends, whether you’ve help guide me through the how to’s, gave my pointers, listened while I bounced scenes off you, or provided reviews. The endless support I receive within the writing community continues to amaze me.

  To my beta readers and my review group. The about of feedback you all provided turned this story from good, to great (in my humble opinion anyway). When I originally thought about having beta readers and a review group, I didn’t think anyone would want to do it. You all surprise me, you all moved me, you all taught me that there are good people in the world that simply want to help. I listened to every word, and I appreciate each one of you. Can’t wait to continue with the amazing friendships and partnerships that have developed.

  To my editor Laura at Wizards in Publishing, you’ve been with me since the start of The Gone journey. You’ve polished my baby until it glistened. I look forward to doing it again with the next.

  To Ashley, the best cover designer. You were super patient with my thoughts on what I wanted to cover to look like. And those thoughts were all over the place. The end resulted in perfection. You really brought Sawyer to life with the cover. Nailed it.