“It’s a shame about Yearger,” Algien continued. “He proved very useful to King Edward, but we’ll say you were the mastermind behind it all so the king will reward you, and thus, he’ll reward me, my dear future wife.”
Yearger had proved useful to the king of England? Her head spun with the implications. Good Christ! What had Yearger done?
Chapter Two
O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O Father, I saw my Mother there,
Among the lilies by waters fair.
~ William Blake, “The Land of Dreams”
The Present
2020
New Orleans, Louisiana
“You’re driving too fast. Slow the hell down.”
Reikart glanced at his brother Rhys in the back seat and flipped him the bird. “Thanks for the tip,Dad.”
“I’m serious, Reik,” Rhys replied, glaring at him in the rearview mirror.
Reikart focused on the dark, winding road once more but didn’t let up on the gas despite the increasing rain. Instead, he drove the Mercedes to the furious beat of the song pumping through the stereo. “We can’t all be perfect like you, Rhys.”
Beside him in the passenger seat, Amanda slid her hand into his lap and squeezed his thigh like only a comforting girlfriend could. He winked at her in thanks for always being there for him, and he got a glorious smile in return.
“I never said I was perfect, asshole,” Rhys grumbled.
No, Rhys hadn’t said that. Their dad had. At least a million damn times. Fresh off a fight with their dad, Reikart knew he was stewing. He should get over it, but it was hard to get over being compared yet again with Rhys and being found lacking.
“Slow the hell down,” Rhys said, managing to sound just like their dad. “I mean it. You’re letting your anger make you stupid.”
Damn it, he hated when Rhys was right. Reikart clenched the steering wheel and started to ease up on the gas.
“Watch out!” Amanda yelled as a deer darted from the woods and into the road.
With a jolt, he wrenched the wheel to the right.
Left. He should have gone left.
The car smacked the deer and hydroplaned, turning in circles as it spun toward the embankment of trees, the bright beams of the headlights dancing across the landscape in a blur. His body tingled, and his muscles tensed. Amanda’s screams filled his ears, head, and heart as images flashed through Reikart’s mind: his mom, dad, Rhys, his other brothers, Ian and Greyson.
Metal met wood with a jarring blow that drove Reikart’s upper body forward until the airbag punched his face, glass rained down on him, and everything went black.
“Reik, Reik, Jesus, Reik.” Rhys’s frantic voice jerked Reikart from the pit he’d been thrown in. Hands, Rhys’s, touched Reikart’s face, his chest. “Christ. Your nose. Your cheek. Amanda!”
Reikart blinked, tiny shards falling like snow on his cheeks. Rhys’s hands moved to Reikart’s hip, and with a snap, his brother undid his seat belt. The scent of burned rubber and smoke filled his nose. The crash collided into his consciousness. He turned to the right, reaching for Amanda, but she wasn’t there.
Reikart jolted awake, his cell phone ringing on his nightstand. He sat up, muscles coiled, heart pumping, and sweat dampening his chest, back, and brow. His phone lit his dark bedroom with a blue glow, and it buzzed against the mahogany where he’d left it before dropping wearily, and fully clothed, on top of his bed.
Amanda. Amanda. Amanda’s gone. Been gone. Four years. Four damn dark years.
His heart ached so much he wanted to weep. Babies cried. Grown men didn’t. Time didn’t heal everything. That statement made him want to break things. Time was a torture device for the damned. He wasn’t healed. He was just as raw and ugly as he had been four years ago when he’d killed Amanda with his recklessness.
