Lead Me Home: A Fight for Me Stand-Alone Novel

by A. L. Jackson

  “No.” My head shook, and my lips pursed as I rejected the idea. “No.”

  Seth reached out and set his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ollie. I know you always hoped for a miracle.”

  Hoped for a miracle.

  Hoped that my sister was still alive.

  That someone hadn’t buried her like she was trash.

  Blood.

  Dirt.

  Bones.

  I gasped for nothing. My lungs no longer functioning.

  Seth edged back, and his attention jumped between Rex and me. “God, I’m sorry. This is the last kind of news I want to deliver. I’ll give you guys some privacy. If I find out anything, I promise, you’ll be the first to know.”

  He turned, and I stood stock still, watching him jog away.

  Frozen.

  Brittle.

  It only sent a crack running down the middle of me that I knew would shatter me in a million unrecognizable pieces.

  Rex groaned a devastated sound. “Fuck, Ollie . . . I—”

  I flew around to face him. “It’s not her.”

  Grief blistered across his face, through his red-rimmed eyes. Etched and carved and wrecked. He pushed from the wall, approaching me carefully.

  “It was her, man. The foreman . . .” He blinked a bunch of times. Like he couldn’t see through the horror wracking my mind. “He called me away from the architect when they uncovered something.”

  My head shook.

  Rejection.

  I didn’t want to hear it.

  I just couldn’t make the words from on my tongue.

  “I ran over there . . . thinking it was gonna be an old sewer system or something like that and they needed my direction.”

  He pressed both his hands over his face. His voice cracked on a cry. “The necklace, the one your mom gave her for her sixteenth birthday, it was there with the remains.”

  “No . . . she must have dropped it there sometime.”

  His hands dropped, and he took a step forward, getting in my line of sight, misery etched across his face. “She was wearing it that night.”

  My head shook. “No. She couldn’t have been. You don’t know that.”

  A groan ripped from him. “She was wearing it, Ollie. She was.”

  I pointed at him, trying to put some space between us. Refusing what was trying to suck me under.

  Darkness.

  Terror.

  Hate.

  “You don’t fucking know that,” I grated.

  He stared at me, something so raw on his face that my heart slammed against my ribs.

  “I do know, Ollie.”

  “How the fuck would you know that?” I spat, unable to keep the anger out of my words.

  “I was with her.” It was a raked gasp. Words barely formed.

  My brow pinched. “We all were with her.”

  His hands fisted in front of him. Regret and frustration and something that looked too much like guilt. “Fuck. Listen to me, Ollie. I was with her.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I was with her.” It was a shamed whisper.

  There was nothing I could do.

  The rage that poured free, leaching into my veins.

  I shoved him.

  Hard.

  He flew back against the brick wall.

  “What did you say?” I demanded.

  “We were together. I told you it wasn’t just your fault.”

  Red blurred my vision, and everything spun.

  The sky and the earth and my spirit.

  A jumbled chaos that took over inside of me. “You fucked my sister?” The accusation was full of disbelief.

  Of disgust.

  No words came from his mouth.

  But guilt was written all over his face.

  Anger burst in my blood. “You fucked my sister?”

  Disgust met the roar as I lunged for him. My fist flew. Connected with flesh and bone.

  Pain burst in my hand, and Rex just . . . took it. Face pinched up in pain as a trickle of blood dripped from his nose. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  He slid down the wall, hitting the ground with a thud. His head rocked back and he buried his face in his hands. “So fucking sorry.”

  I backed away.

  Gripped by sorrow.

  Grief swooping in.

  Clouding my mind.

  Shutting down my spirit.

  My lip curled, and I backed further away. “Sorry’s not good enough.”

  I turned and left him there, unable to see as I stumbled up the three flights of steps in the darkened stairwell.

  Everything was blurred.

  My eyes and mind.

  An altered state of consciousness.

  It couldn’t be her.

  It couldn’t.

  I had to keep searching. Keep watching. Keep hunting.

  I would find her.

  She would be safe.

  Fly, fly, dragonfly.

  Her voice danced all around me, and I choked, a cry ripping free.

  It echoed on the enclosed walls.

  Bouncing back.

  Grief.

  Grief.

  Grief.

  I couldn’t stand.

  I dropped to my knees, crawled the rest of the way up the last flight.

  At the top, I forced myself to standing as I staggered out into the short hall, hands pressed to the wall to keep myself from falling.

  Falling.

  I’d thought I could live.

  That I could see through this.

  Past it.

  That I could let go.

  But this?

  It was all I could feel.

  All I could feel.

  Pain.

  Excruciating.

  “We are three. Forever and ever, you and me.”

  I fumbled through the door and into my loft.

  Nikki’s scent hit me like a blow.

  It blasted me back, and a sob ripped free from deep within my chest.

  What did we do?

  What did we do?

  I stumbled to the cupboard, pulled out a brand new bottle, twisted off the cap.

  Anything to dull the feeling of my skin being sheered from my bones.

  Flaying me open.

  I tipped it up and gulped half of it down, drenching my stomach in morbid heat. Praying for reprieve.

  I moved to the couch, and like a fool, I grabbed the remote and flipped on the television.

  I slugged back another huge gulp.

  Another and another.

  Time passed.

  A minute. An hour. A day.

  I didn’t know.

  It didn’t matter.

  My head lolled against the back of the couch as I drifted through the haze.

  Darkness spun.

  Color blipped and flashed from the television. A slur of voices landed on my ears. Too loud. Too much.

  A woman in a purple dress stood in front of the yellow tape that blocked off the old building where investigators swarmed, delivering her news.

  A body had been discovered.

  Forensics was on the scene.

  Speculation.

  Speculation.

  “Sydney Preston was sixteen years old when she went missing fourteen years ago.”

  That storm rumbled from the depths of me.

  Rising and lifting and consuming.

  For months, I’d had the gut-deep intuition that something was coming.

  Something wicked.

  Ruthless and cruel.

  A warning before it’d been overhead.

  I’d known it was coming.

  I’d known.

  Like a fool, I hadn’t realized what that’d meant.

  It’s your fault.

  I trusted you.

  You were supposed to take care of her.

  You promised, you’d take care of her.

  It should have been me.

  It should have been me.

  I’d done this.


  Agony sliced through the center of me.

  Excruciating, blinding pain.

  Gutting and destroying.

  My body wept. Bleeding out.

  I could feel her spirit whip through the room.

  An earthquake.

  It spurred a tidal wave that decimated the coastline.

  I saw it.

  Felt it.

  I welcomed it when it crashed over me.

  A gulf overhead.

  Taking me under.

  Suffocating.

  Drowning.

  Me.

  It should have been me.

  32

  Ollie

  Seventeen Years Old

  Flames from the bonfire licked and lapped, jumping toward the canopy of night that covered overhead.

  Embers popped and snapped before they broke away like golden ash that floated for the heavens.

  A ton of their friends were out there tonight.

  More than Ollie had planned. Half the town had caught wind of the lake party, and people had kept showing up.

  Wouldn’t have been that big of a deal had a bunch of chicks from their class not climbed in the bed of Rex’s truck to share the case of beer Rex’s older cousin had scored.

  Clearly, they thought they were gonna nab a piece of the star quarterback and defensive end as well.

  What made it worse was Ollie’s sister was there, sitting on the tailgate of the truck with her legs swinging over the edge.

  Tonight, she looked pissed and bored and annoyed, and Ollie tried not to be annoyed right back.

  He’d given it his best to convince her not to come tonight. He and Nikki had even concocted a story that Nikki wasn’t feeling well so she was staying home.

  He’d planned to pick her up on the way so Sydney wouldn’t know. Guys wouldn’t question it since Nikki was always with him, anyway.

  Plan was solid.

  No harm. No foul.

  That was until Sydney had shoved a bunch of stuff into a tote bag and jumped into his car, saying he wasn’t leaving without her.

  Nikki had magically started feeling better.

  Now, Nikki sat all the way on the other side of the fire, sitting on the same whitewashed log they’d dragged up from the lake when they’d all first started camping out here in middle school.

  Those sweet freckles glimmered like glitter on her face as she watched him through the flames.

  Her eyes dropped closed for a second, lashes casting a shadow on her cheeks.

  God.

  She was pretty.

  So damned pretty he was sure he was going to lose his mind.

  His insides twisted in a need that was close to painful, and he swore that the condom he’d brought was burning a hole in his back pocket that was as hot as the sparks that flickered from the pit.

  Giggles rolled from beside him, and Ollie had to stop himself from rolling his eyes when he glanced that way and saw Jessica straddling Rex’s lap.

  Sydney’s mouth pursed in a prissy way.

  God, what was her problem?

  She’d gotten so weird lately. She had to be catching on about him and Nikki. It wasn’t like she was an idiot.

  But he couldn’t worry about that tonight.

  They were going to tell her soon. This weekend.

  After they were together.

  All they wanted was this night.

  Something special.

  Rex laughed, and he set his hands awkwardly on Jessica’s waist.

  Dude was such a pansy, acting like he wasn’t interested in getting laid. Hell, Ollie could hardly remember the last time Rex had a girlfriend.

  He looked Rex’s way, grinning wide and covertly blocking Kayla from climbing into a similar position on his lap. “Stop being a pussy, dude. It’s about time you saw some action. Get that dick wet before it shrivels up and falls off.”

  Rex laughed. “The hell? I get plenty of action.”

  “Yeah. Complements of your hand.”

  Sydney hopped off the tail, spun around, and crossed her arms over her chest. “You guys are such assholes. Can you stop being pigs for five seconds?”

  Anger pinged at his ribs. Sydney had always been right there. He’d never had a minute to himself. To figure out who he was outside of watching over her.

  And she thought she could judge them? Call them assholes when he was the one to bring her out there?

  The one who’d always taken her everywhere.

  “Take me home.” She was looking directly at Rex.

  Jessica giggled and snuggled closer against his chest.

  “Think he’d rather be spending his time kissing Jessica than running you around. Wouldn’t you, Rex?”

  Ollie lifted his chin at Rex and Jessica. Prodding him.

  Rex laughed before he kissed Jessica, so damned clumsily you’d think he’d never kissed a girl before.

  But, hell, Ollie wasn’t joking.

  It was about time his best friend saw some action.

  Kale was already off with his new girlfriend, and damn, it would be nice if Rex had a distraction, too.

  All he needed was to finally get Nikki alone.

  “Told you not to come,” Ollie told her.

  Hurt twisted up Sydney’s face, and crap, that was all it took for regret to start tugging at Ollie’s conscience. At that place carved out that would forever give up anything for his sister.

  She was supposed to be his priority.

  His best friend.

  It tugged and it tugged.

  Only it wasn’t as strong as his need for Nikki that pulled at the inside of him.

  Two of them tethered and hooked.

  Just one night. All he wanted was one night.

  He looked at his sister, whose expression was so pinched with betrayal he almost apologized.

  He swallowed it back, his voice a little rough when he said, “Go home, Sydney. Told you tonight wasn’t for you. Call Mom to come pick you up at the dock.”

  Wounded disbelief glistened in her eyes as she looked at Ollie then turned her attention to Rex.

  A beat passed.

  Then two with no one saying anything.

  Like she was waiting for someone to change their mind.

  To tell her to stay.

  Guilt clawed through Ollie, but he forced it down.

  One night.

  On a choked cry, she finally turned and started to walk away.

  Nikki scrambled to her feet to go after her, and Ollie sent her a pleading glance.

  Stay.

  She blinked between them, torn, before she settled back onto the log.

  All of them watched Sydney walk down the dirt road, her receding silhouette getting dimmer and dimmer before she disappeared around a bend.

  Ollie breathed out, a loaded sound of frustration and relief. This was so messed up.

  He watched as Nikki got up, clearly upset. She headed toward her things she’d left behind in one of the tents.

  Pushing to standing, Ollie hopped over the side of the truck, feet landing hard on the dirt. “Got to take a piss.”

  He skirted around the camp, going around the long way until he found Nikki standing with her head dropped. Without saying anything, he grabbed her hand and the rolled-up pallet he’d made.

  Silently, he clutched her hand, guiding her through the maze of spindly trees.

  The voices and laughter grew more distant the farther they went, the sound of the waterfalls growing more distinct.

  Nikki finally tugged at his hand, and he spun around to face her.

  His breath hitched.

  Air gone.

  It was the exact same thing it did whenever he looked at her.

  That feeling sweeping through him with the strength of the falls that crashed into the lake below.

  But her voice, it was pained and whispered. “I think we should go after her. This isn’t right.”

  He dropped the pallet to the ground and gathered her face in his hands. “Just tonight, Nikki. I want it
to be us. For one night. That’s all I’m asking for. Tomorrow, we’ll apologize to her. Confess everything. We’ll make it right.”

  Those mesmerizing eyes searched his face. “Why can’t we do that right now?”

  “Because you know it’s going to be a thing. She’s going to be upset. It would ruin tonight. It would ruin everything we have planned.”

  Her gaze drifted, worry written in her expression. “I just hate the idea of her going home angry. Feeling like we don’t care.”

  Nikki fiddled with the red woven bracelet she wore on her wrist. The one that matched Sydney and Ollie’s. Like if she touched it, she might be able to touch Sydney through the distance.

  “She’ll understand. It might take her some time, but she’ll understand.”

  Nikki looked out over the streams that ran over the smooth rocks and tumbled over the cliffs. “I just . . . don’t want her to be mad at me. When this comes out, I don’t want it to change things between her and me.”

  He gathered her closer. “Is that what you’re so worried about?”

  Nikki nodded, eyes dropping when she confessed, “I’ve been worried all week. So worried, Ollie. She’s been my best friend my whole life. I don’t want to ruin that.”

  Ollie brushed his fingertips across the moisture on her cheek.

  Moonlight poured from above, caressing her olive skin, spinning it into silk.

  “You don’t need to worry. We’ll make this right. I promise. But for tonight, it’s just you and me.” He brushed his nose against hers. “And me and you.”

  She set her delicate hands on his trembling stomach. “Us.”

  “Us,” he murmured, so softly, a promise that came from his spirit and fell from his lips.

  He took her hand again, picked up the pack, and silently wound her the rest of the way to the meadow secreted by a break in the trees.

  It was the spot where he’d found her every single time they’d played hide and seek there at the lake.

  Where they’d grown and learned and changed.

  Where she’d run and hide and wait for him to come for her.

  To find her.

  He spread out the cushion and blankets, and they both knelt on their knees as he silently, slowly undressed her and she timidly undressed him.

  A blush on her skin as she peeked up at him.

  Energy roiled between them.

  Soft surges.

  Gentle prods.

  She was shaking when she laid down beneath the covers, but it didn’t come close to the quakes that rolled through Ollie as he fumbled to cover himself.