Hope Unbroken (Unveiled Series Book 3)

by Walton, Crystal

  I settled in my seat. Honestly, the rift between Riley and his dad very well could’ve been the reason Jasmine ran away. It seemed to affect her more than the others. But I had to believe she’d be okay and that we’d find her. There simply wasn’t another option.

  The miles passed much faster than the first time we drove them. Riley parked in front of what looked like a lake. His headlights tunneled into the fog rising between a series of pine trees.

  With the engine off, it wasn’t hard to understand why he’d turned here for peace. The sounds of the forest blended into a lullaby I could’ve fallen asleep to under different circumstances. Not to mention the fragrance. The trees might as well have been growing hundreds of Yankee candles instead of pinecones.

  “This way,” he called from a few strides ahead of me.

  Holding the flashlight between my teeth, I zipped my book bag and wrenched my arms through the straps. I jogged up the path, dodging overgrown roots, until I was less than a foot behind him.

  The deeper the shadows grew, the further they eroded the serenity that’d felt indestructible only a few minutes ago. Instead of a collective symphony, each sound echoed on its own. I glanced toward every noise, hyper aware of our intrusion into the night’s normal routine.

  Something howled. We both froze.

  “Riley?” I reached for his hand.

  A scream more piercing than any howl shook through the trees.

  Riley took off in a sprint. Underbrush clawed at my ankles as I ran after him. “Riley, wait.” Wind scraped down my lungs. Overgrown branches whipped across my cheeks. But I didn’t slow down until the trail split. I spun in a circle. No sight of Riley. Only fog. I stopped moving, stopped breathing, and listened for any clue on which way to go.

  Another howl.

  I whirled toward the sound and ran. A sharp corner sent me stumbling into Riley.

  He steadied me by the waist. “Don’t move,” he whispered.

  Adrenaline-fueled breaths came hard and sharp, the cold air burning in my chest.

  He turned off the flashlight and steered my eyes toward an animal prowling close to the ground a stone’s throw away from us.

  “Is that . . . ?”

  “A wolf.”

  Didn’t wolves travel in packs? Panic set right back in. I wanted to shrink into the darkness, run to the car. We had to get out of there. “Riley, we need to—”

  He put a finger to his lips and pointed at a cave on the other side of some type of gully. A long, curvy branch from a tree rooted on our side of the woods nearly barricaded the entire face of the cave. Something moved behind the leaves. The moon filtered through the trees onto a panic-ridden Jasmine, standing flush against the inside wall.

  The wolf clawed at the edge of the cliff. Riley inched forward. I grabbed his shoulders. “No.” Even with a running start, there was no way he’d clear the jump.

  “It’s the cooler.” He flicked his chin toward it. “Jazz has food with her. The wolf’s too distracted to notice me.”

  “Jazz?” Melody yelled from the trail right before flying straight into me.

  Riley didn’t flinch. “Stay back, Mel.”

  Without acknowledging him, she sprang up the maple tree beside us.

  Riley shot to his feet. “What are you doing?”

  She scaled the arced branch like it was nothing and landed on the ground beside her sister. The thump echoed in the cave, followed by a menacing growl. Both girls gasped. The wolf spotted the tree and snarled.

  Riley hedged me into the woods, out of view, and turned to the cave. “Mel, look at me.” His voice held an assurance I had no idea how he was maintaining. “When I say go, you take Jazz back up that tree. Don’t move until I say so. Do you understand me?”

  Acknowledging Riley for the first time, she nodded.

  “On three.” He snagged an oversized rock from the ground. “One . . .”

  I followed his eyes toward the wolf circling the tree trunk. “What are you doing?”

  “Two . . .”

  He inched closer, crouched.

  “Riley, no . . .”

  “Three.”

  Melody flung Jasmine onto the branch at the same time Riley dove on top of the wolf. He raised the rock, but the wolf knocked it free with his snout. The animal flipped over and sank its teeth into Riley’s arm. Jasmine screamed even louder than he did.

  I dropped to my knees in search of something—another rock, anything. The wolf towered above him with his paws pinned to his chest. A vicious snarl shuddered across the ground and up my body. Riley looked at me with eyes carrying more of a burden than they ever should have. The stone I’d grabbed rolled out of my hand.

  Everything stopped until a deafening noise retriggered time and motion again.

  The wolf snapped his head in the direction of the gunshot and tore off, nicking Riley’s face as he went. Leaves rustled behind me. Mrs. Preston rushed up and left her husband standing twenty feet away with a rifle still raised against his shoulder blade.

  She fell beside Riley and checked him over, fear and relief colliding.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  Jasmine landed on the ground. “Riley, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for—”

  “What were you thinking, young lady?” Mrs. Preston’s tugged her into her arms.

  I bolted over, dug out an extra shirt I’d packed, and coiled it around his arm. Leaves crunched under footsteps creeping up from behind us. A glance at Mr. Preston’s boots trailed up to his face, calm and collected, under the broken moonlight.

  Jasmine rose to her feet. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I couldn’t take it anymore.”

  From the center of the group, she turned toward each of us. Her flare of indignation bled into sorrow when she stopped in front of Mr. Preston. “He’s a part of our family, Dad. You can’t keep pretending he’s not.” She faced Riley. “Please. Please try to find a way to remember you love him.”

  She shuffled in a circle in front of her family, eyes beseeching.

  No one spoke. Even the trees seemed breathless. Every sound bowed to a silence dedicated to the earnestness in this little girl’s heart.

  Mrs. Preston searched her son over once more. He nodded again that he was fine.

  Looking from him to her husband, she stretched her arms around her two daughters. “C’mon, girls. They’ll meet us home. After they stop at the clinic,” she said, staring at Riley.

  I helped him to his feet. Leaning on my shoulder, he stumbled forward until he regained a sense of balance.

  Mr. Preston stepped in front of us, face unreadable. He placed a firm hand on Riley’s shoulder, extended the other, and looked his son in the eye. “Thank you.”

  I’d heard those two words spoken by countless people on countless occasions. But in that moment, it was more than an everyday phrase. It was the beginning of a reconciliation that everyone except an eleven-year-old girl had lost hope in ever seeing.

  chapter sixteen

  Grace

  After stopping for stitches and a rabies shot, we made it back to the Preston’s in time to see the cops pulling away. Inside, a welcome and natural sound filled their small dining room—the sound of a family.

  Something had changed. His dad sat with us for hours, quiet but at ease. I didn’t mean to stare. Was he really the same man I’d met a few weeks ago?

  He leaned against the table as he rose and extended an all-encompassing goodnight to the rest of us. Jasmine bounced on Mrs. Preston’s lap as if she hadn’t been in any danger that evening whatsoever.

  Riley and I exchanged a glance across the table, both shaking our heads.

  A gradual silence hushed over the room. I followed Mrs. Preston’s gaze toward the hollow doorway where Melody slumped into the frame. She removed her earphones, one at a time. She looked younger somehow, more tender.

  Mrs. Preston scooted Jasmine off her lap. “C’mon, sweetie. I think it’s about time we get you in bed.”

  “But, Mom—”

&n
bsp; “Come on, now. Off you go.” She hurried her out of the room, the old Lab hobbling after them.

  They disappeared down the hallway. One look between Riley and Melody made it clear I should’ve followed.

  Melody stepped forward at the same time Riley and I both rose from the table.

  I stopped halfway out of my chair. If shrinking under the table wouldn’t have brought even more attention to myself, I probably would’ve done it. I sank back into my seat. Maybe they’d pretend I wasn’t there.

  Melody fidgeted with her earphones and glanced intermittently between Riley and her feet. The quiet house accentuated every tiny noise until she finally spoke. “You left us.”

  His chin drooped to his chest. “I know. Mel, I—”

  “It’s cool to call me Melody.” The slightest smile touched her voice. “I sort of miss hearing you say it.”

  Repentance tore down his face as he reached her side.

  I twisted the bottom of the tablecloth, wringing back the emotion.

  “I’m sorry, Melody.”

  Still dawdling in the doorway, she lowered her gaze. “Just don’t ever do it again, okay?”

  He laughed softly. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” she repeated in a way that settled things.

  It had to have been the most awkward and understated reconciliation I’d ever seen, but Melody had done it in her own way. And that’d made it even more sincere.

  She dragged her socks across the hardwood floor on her way down the hall.

  There were so many things I wanted to say, but I simply smiled at Riley. Anything left unsaid could wait until morning.

  He led me to his bedroom door and kissed my cheek.

  I grabbed his hand. “Let me take the couch tonight. You’re injured.”

  “Injured?” His grin tipped sideways. “You make it sound like I was in a car wreck or something.”

  “Oh, sorry. I forgot having a wrestling match with a wolf fits in the no-big-deal category.”

  He laughed. “It’s nothing, I promise. I’ll be fine.”

  And people called me stubborn. My fist gravitated to my hip.

  He mirrored my pose and angled his head at me. “If my mom wakes up to find you on the couch, then I might seriously be injured.”

  “Way to play the Mom-card.” Cheater. “Fine. But I’m driving tomorrow.”

  He drew me close. “Deal.”

  With another kiss goodnight, I left Riley in the hall, groped my way through the cluttered room, and climbed into his old twin-sized bed. I wouldn’t have any trouble falling asleep this time. The combination of emotional and physical exhaustion was bound to create the perfect tonic for a dreamless sleep.

  Sunshine climbed across the floor, pooled over the wrinkled covers, and landed on the nightstand at the same moment the alarm clock sounded its obnoxious wake-up call. I swatted the stupid thing, hoping to hit the right button before I woke up the entire house.

  Riley and I needed to have words about his leave-at-the-crack-of-dawn plan. I appreciated his wanting to get me back with plenty of time to prep for the start of the semester. Still, I wasn’t sure being a zombie would help matters.

  I grabbed the towel Mrs. Preston had left for me on a shoulder-high stack of cardboard boxes at the foot of the bed and crept into the hall. The light from under the bathroom door cast a solid beam down the floor from one end of the dark hallway to the other. Riley must’ve beaten me to the shower. I hung my towel on the handle and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water while I waited.

  It took less than two steps into the dining room for the aroma of baking bread to lure my body the rest of the way without any prompting.

  No surprise, Mrs. Preston was stirring in the kitchen already. If the fresh powder residue on the front of her apron were any indication, she’d been up for some time.

  “Good morning.” She hovered over an open cookbook. “Can I get you something to drink, dear? I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee?”

  “Oh, um, water’s fine, please. Thank you.”

  She straightened and stared at me over a narrow pair of reading glasses like I’d spoken in a foreign language. She flittered over to the refrigerator, poured a glass of orange juice instead, and handed it to me.

  She refilled her coffee mug. “I know Riley’s bent on leaving early this morning, but you can’t go without having a decent breakfast first.”

  It didn’t matter how short of a time I’d known her. I’d seen that same determined look a thousand times from her son. The invitation to breakfast wasn’t negotiable.

  She motioned for me to have a seat at the small kitchen table in the corner.

  I drew one leg onto a chair cushion covered in a decorative rooster pattern and rubbed the dog’s back with my other foot. She joined me a minute later. I swirled my cup and watched the pulp circle along top.

  Mrs. Preston consumed her coffee with almost as much reverence as Jaycee did. No wonder she’d looked at me like I was crazy when I’d passed on her coffee offer.

  “Thanks for coming yesterday. If Riley hadn’t gotten there in time . . .” She toyed with the corner of her glasses. “I don’t know what that girl was thinking. Leave it to Jasmine to be theatrical in making a point.” Her smile betrayed her tone of reprimand. “She’s always been our scare-child. Gave us quite a good one a couple years ago. Ended up in the hospital with insulin shock.”

  I’d forgotten Riley mentioned she was diabetic. “How did you know where to find her?”

  “Melody.” She set her coffee on the placemat. “She finally remembered overhearing Jasmine refer to that park as some kind of secret hideout.” She stared at the wall beside me, probably reliving memories she’d rather erase. “I’m so thankful Riley thought to search there too.” She traced her finger along her mug handle.

  “I’d say he’s just as lucky you got there when you did. That wolf . . .” I shuddered at the possibility of how much more damage he could’ve done.

  She grinned. “Oh, I think Riley might’ve given him a run for his money. My boy has a lot of fight in him.”

  “So I’m learning.” Getting to see new dimensions of Riley’s personality reminded me of the way Dad used to refer to love—a journey of exploration.

  That journey would lead us to marriage, wouldn’t it? “Mrs. Preston?” I cleared my throat, searched for my voice. “Riley and I haven’t finalized our wedding plans, but it would mean so much to us both if Mr. Preston would be there.”

  I ran my fingers up and down the outside of my glass. “Actually, it’s more than just wanting him there. Do you think . . . I mean, I know Riley and his dad still have stuff to work through, and he has some reservations about us getting married, but do you think he’ll give us his blessing?” I’d be surprised if she heard the last five words. The weight of what they meant nearly crushed the sound of my voice altogether.

  A smile curved around the brim of her coffee mug. No guessing whom Riley had inherited his eyes of assurance from.

  Her expression turned wistful as she straightened the wire napkin holder in the center of the table. “We were just kids when we got married. I was only nineteen. Jonathan was full of dreams. I would’ve followed him anywhere. Did follow him anywhere.” She laughed before taking another lengthy drink. Steam rose from the mug and fogged her glasses.

  “Life’s been hard on him, Emma. Riley thinks he understands, but he doesn’t know the extent Jonathan’s disappointments reach. He was always such a private man. Sometimes too private. I’m afraid he didn’t let Riley into some of the places of his heart he should’ve.”

  “Is it too late?”

  She abandoned her mug long enough to set an affirming hand over mine. “It’s never too late, dear.”

  Would that same grace extend to Riley’s career? If he wouldn’t listen to me, maybe he’d respond to his mom. I twisted my hair over my shoulder. “Would you talk to Riley about touring? Try to help him see what he’s sacrificing?”

  She sat back. “Have I me
ntioned my son’s stubborn like his father?”

  It had to be worth a try.

  Riley appeared in the doorway and stumbled over to the oven in the same sweet-aroma-driven trance I had earlier. “I see you didn’t listen to me, Mom,” he mumbled with a mouthful of warm bread.

  “I see you’re disappointed.” Mrs. Preston’s grin was just as wry as his.

  I downed the rest of my orange juice to keep from laughing. The more time I spent with her, the more she captured my heart. Same with the rest of his family.

  Riley opened the fridge. “Just one six pack?”

  “Your dad doesn’t drink like he used to.” She squeezed my hand on her way up from her seat and started serving Riley a homemade meal before he sat down. “Not everything’s the same, dear.”

  Sure hoped that was true.

  I kissed his cheek and headed for the bathroom.

  A shower might’ve tamed my hair, but traces of my conversation with Mrs. Preston kept my insides in a jumbled mess. Or maybe it was knowing I had to say goodbye to a family I already felt a part of.

  The Prestons formed a half-circle around us in front of the Civic. Mrs. Preston turned from Riley to me. “Take care of my boy.” Without the slightest hesitation, she closed me in a hug I hated to release. She leaned back and held my arms a minute longer, a heartwarming smile barely restraining the beginning of tears.

  Riley drew her tight. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll visit again soon.”

  I tucked my hands in my pockets and lowered my chin at the sight of Mr. Preston stepping forward. A few hours of being at ease with him last night wasn’t enough to know where he stood. I stared at the decorative pavement, stalling. As if the awkwardness couldn’t get any worse, he extended a hand toward me in a delayed reaction.

  I shook it and matched his silence with a tentative smile.

  “Finish strong,” he said.

  School was the furthest thing from my mind right then. I thought he disapproved of my field of study, but there was no mistaking the encouragement in his charge.

  He turned to his son. I bit my lip, hopeful and terrified at the same time. I was so focused on hearing the words about to leave his mouth, I didn’t even see Jasmine coming. Engulfed by two short arms winding around my waist, I staggered backward.