Into the Fading Twilight (Starlight Grove, #2) (5)

I tore at my clothes, but they stuck to my skin, the wet material feeling like suffocating cement. I clawed, nails raking over my flesh until the T-shirt slapped against the wood floor. I fitfully yanked at my bathing suit top. The straps and ties were too complicated for my brain to process, so I tore at it until something snapped and it fell to the floor.

My chest heaved, breaths coming in short pants as everything burned. “You’re … breathing … you’re … alive …”

But I didn’t believe the words this time. They didn’t feel true.

The only thing I could feel was those hands around my throat. I just didn’t know if it was a nightmare or a memory. But maybe it didn’t matter. Because some days, it felt like I was walking through a living nightmare anyway.





CHAPTER TWO


Kol




ARE WE READY TO ROCK?” I ASKED, LOOKING DOWN AT MY daughter, who always kept me on my toes. Especially when it came to her attire.

Skylar hadn’t disappointed this time. She wore a plastic tiara, complete with pink and purple gemstones, paired with tactical goggles, making her blond hair stick out in a haphazard array. She had a magenta feather boa over her camo shirt that read: Don’t Mess with Me, I’ve Got Uncles. And she did. Four, to be exact. And any one of them would do anything to keep her from harm.

She’d completed the outfit with a purple tutu and combat boots. Equal parts princess and warrior. And 100 percent Skylar.

She lowered the goggles over her eyes. “Let’s smash some stuff.”

I swallowed back a chuckle. “I hate to break it to you, Little Princess, but we are past the smashing phase and into the rebuilding one.”

“Aw, man,” she complained.

This time, I couldn’t hold back my laugh as I crouched to her level. “But look at all we’ve accomplished.”

I scanned the garage attic, trying to see it through my girl’s eyes. She’d helped me in fits and starts before getting bored and seeking entertainment with her besties: Tink, the mini-Highland cow, and Pepper, the goat. But I was damn proud of all we’d accomplished.

“It looks …” Skylar’s nose scrunched. “Empty.”

My mouth curved. “That means it’s time to build it back up.” And I had a specific vision in mind. Just in case.

Sky looked up at me with mischief in her eyes. “Do I get to use the big saw?”

I tried not to let my overprotective streak strangle my response. Letting out a breath, I studied my eight-year-old. “What are the rules?”

She instantly stood at attention. “Hands only where you say. Goggles on. Never use power tools with Uncle Mav.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at the last rule, even though it was probably the most important one, given my youngest brother’s reckless nature. “All right, then. Let’s do this.”

I helped Skylar onto the stool where she could help me position the two-by-four. Her hands wouldn’t be anywhere near the table saw blade, but she would still feel like she was a part of things. Empowering her with knowledge and skills that she could carry with her for the rest of her life was one of my favorite things.

“Let’s chop it, Daddy!” she said gleefully.

Grinning, I started up the saw, and we began sliding the piece of wood across the table, perfectly in line with the mark I’d traced. The moment we made the cut, I flipped off the saw. Sky took one half, and I took the other.

Setting the piece on the floor, she flipped her boa over her shoulder. “Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“Couldn’t do it without you.”

She beamed up at me. “That’s because I’m the best helper around.”

“That, you are.”

And she proved it by helping for the next hour until she got bored. “Can I go play ninja warrior with Tink and Pepper now? I put in a hard day’s work.”

I coughed to cover my laugh. “A real long one, huh?”

She blew out a breath. “The longest.”

“Go play. I’ll have an ice-cold chocolate milk waiting for you when you’re done.”

“Better make it a double.”

That had me groaning. Having an uncle who owned a bar had its downsides.

But Skylar was already grabbing her Nerf gun and running down the stairs.

I knew the sounds by heart: her footsteps on the staircase, when they hit the final landing, the back door to the deck slamming.

A peal of laughter lit the air then, a different sort of noise—the kind I always loved to hear. I straightened to peer out one of the back windows. My natural inclination was to check on my daughter, but her laughter always called to me. I never knew what I’d find.

Tink, the mini-Highland cow, let out a bellowed moo and raced in a circle. Sky dropped into a roll, letting a Nerf dart fly at the target across the yard. It hit the center of the bull’s-eye.

The roll itself hadn’t been careful. She’d hit the ground with enough force to jar her tiny form, making me wince. I crossed to the window and leaned out of it. “Careful, Little Princess. Precious cargo, remember?”

Sky flipped up her tactical goggles. “Gotta roll with the bumps to get where you’re going.”

My eyes narrowed. “Says who?”