EXCERPT: Tragic

Tragic is the third standalone in the Lark Cove series. If you’ve read Tattered, you met Piper, Logan’s sarcastic and lovable assistant. This is her story. Her hero’s name is Kaine Reynolds, and let me tell you, I’ve never rooted so hard for a character to get a happily-ever-after as I did for Kaine. Want a sneak peek? Read the Prologue now!

Prologue

Kaine

One or two.

“Kaine?” Mom’s voice echoed off the cement walls as she stepped outside. The glass door swished as it closed behind her.

I didn’t look at her as she stepped up to my side. My eyes were aimed blankly ahead as I wrestled with my decision.

One or two.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked. “We’ve been looking all over the hospital for you.”

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing out here. I’d told Mom that I was going to the bathroom and that I’d be back soon to talk with the doctors. But when I’d passed this exit door, hidden on the bottom floor in the back wing of the hospital, it had beckoned me through.

I’d needed a few moments away from the red-rimmed eyes and sniffling noses. I’d needed just a few seconds to pass without a single person asking me if I was okay.

I needed some quiet to decide.

One or two.

The parking lot ahead of me was shrouded in darkness. The night itself was pitch-black. There were no stars shining. There was no moon glowing. A thick fog had settled in, dulling the light of the streetlamps so their beams barely illuminated the few cars parked on the asphalt. The air should have been cold on my bare arms, but I couldn’t feel it.

I was numb.

I’d felt this way for hours, ever since they took her from my arms.

One or two.

It was an impossible choice, one I shouldn’t have to make. But because of him, it was inevitable.

“Kaine, I’m so sorry. What can I do?”

“I can’t decide.” My voice was rough as I spoke, the burn of rage and sorrow and pain making it nearly impossible to speak.

“Decide what?” she whispered. I didn’t need to look to know that Mom’s eyes were full of tears. Her dark hair had gotten a dozen new grays tonight. Her normally cheery and bright hazel eyes held their own fog of grief.

“One or two.”

“One or two what?”

I swallowed the fire in my throat. “Graves.”

One or two.

“Oh, Kaine.” Mom began to weep and her hand reached for my arm, but I shied away. “Please come inside, sweetheart. Please. We need to talk about this. He needs to talk to you. Give him a chance to explain.”

“I have nothing to say to him.” He’d done this. He was the reason I had to decide.

“Kaine, it was an accident. A tragic accident.” She hiccupped. “He—”

I walked away before she could finish. I walked right into the dark, wishing this blackness would swallow me whole.

Mom’s voice rang across the parking lot as she called out, but I simply walked, my boots carrying me into the black.

One or two.

An impossible choice.

As if the heavens sensed my despair, the clouds opened. Rain poured down, soaking my dark hair. It dripped over my eyes and coated my cheeks. The water soaked my jeans, making them cling to my legs.

But I couldn’t feel the water droplets as they streamed down the bridge of my nose. I couldn’t feel the locks of hair that were stuck to my forehead. I couldn’t feel the wet denim on my thighs as it rubbed my skin raw.

I was numb. There was nothing.

Nothing except the weight of four pounds, two ounces wrapped in a pink blanket resting in my arms as I said good-bye.

One or two.

What would Shannon want?

One. She’d choose one.

So I’d bury them together.

Then surrender to the black.

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