Keagan (This is Our Life Book 2) Read online

  Copyright © 2016 by F.G. Adams

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, named features, artists and bands are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used for reference and without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  Cover Design:

  LJ Anderson with Mayhem Cover Creations

  Photography:

  Reggie Deanching with RplusMphoto

  Model:

  Alfie Gordillo

  Interior Design & Editing:

  Daryl Banner

  Dedicated to all the families who are searching for a loved one who is lost. Adult or child, the pain is the same.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Acknowledgements

  Undeniable Excerpt By Jessika Klide

  Ominous black clouds loom over the horizon. The sky is darker than normal for this time of the afternoon. I survey the surrounding cliffs and open space through the standard issue binoculars in front of me. A lightning bolt streaks across the rolling clouds and thunder erupts somewhere close by. In the distance the mountain peaks grant an eerie painting between the landscape of assorted trees, plants, and clouds.

  The uncommonness of the weather isn’t easing the already tense group.

  The entire team is on alert. When a loud crash of thunder echoes through the terrain, not one body shifts or twitches, all remaining frozen in their spot, etched into the scenery and only visible by the whites of their eyes.

  We are scoping out another terrorist threat, a secluded hideout somewhere inside the enormous mountain before us. We need to locate an entry point and collect as much intel as possible without being detected. A ghost mission. In and out.

  An uneasiness washes over me and we continue on the trail before us. Sweat drips from my jaw like a leaky faucet as I make my way. The path is thick with underbrush and low floating tree limbs that part for the caravan of ten soldiers. The embankment up ahead shields so many blind spots. Dread filters into my psyche. We will have to climb it, and the vulnerable position is not welcomed by anyone.

  I hold my left fist up, halting our progress, and search the perimeter once again. By all outward appearances, nothing has been disturbed. The moss on the rocks show no imprints. Years of fallen debris accumulates at the bottom of the giant peak, so we make our way upward, hugging the shadows offered by the foliage. I signal forward progress.

  We’ve been trekking on foot from the drop zone for almost eighteen hours, only stopping for a few minutes to refuel, rehydrate, and rest. Body fatigue isn’t even a part of my thoughts at the moment. I’m focused on each footstep and the sounds around us. A bird chirps and the cadence of insects calm me, signs from nature alerting me of no disturbance.

  When we reach the embankment I look at Ollie and Lukas flanking me. Lukas lifts his finger to his nose and Ollie’s “go” signal is an uplifted hand to his earlobe. Good. Neither one suspects any danger. We are good to go.

  I signal to Carlito and Jimbo to go before us. Both are avid rock climbers. They can scale the side of any natural rock formation with an uncanny talent at knowing what path to use with no previous knowledge of the site, securing a pathway on smooth rock for us to follow. They make their way toward the front of our group and start finding the footholds in the smooth rock for us to climb. The first point is covered by a spider’s web and easily deflected.

  We’ve climbed two-thirds of the way when Jimbo falters as he reaches for his next hold. Earth tumbles to the ground below. Everyone goes utterly still, listening to the disruption of rock and dirt falling below. After several heartpounding moments of hanging off the side of the ledge, we begin again. Proceeding up to the small landing, only a couple yards away. One foothold to the next.

  I grip the hand that’s being offered and help pull myself up. Looking down at the valley we’ve left behind two football fields below, I marvel at the beauty of this dismal place. Why so much pain and suffering is concentrated into this small area, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s been cursed since the beginning of time.

  Moving forward to the front of the procession, I stop midway when a faraway noise enters our sphere. Fucking hell! From up above, a tail of smoke follows in slow motion as the bazooka’s ammunition descends. The soldiers’ bodies implode in front of me. Limbs fly. A booted leg lands in front of me minus the rest of the soldier. I react slowly. Shock lingers.

  Another bomb explodes and I’m thrown from my stoic position. I land face down with a heavy weight on my back. I can’t move. The breath is knocked from my lungs. I’m immobile. A warm moisture drips on my face. I heave and try to extend my arms, lifting, then sagging once to the ground.

  I’m not sure how much later I wake. The heaviness from earlier is still on my back. I can’t move. I struggle with the weight trying to move back and forth, up and down. What’s holding me down? The weight suffocates my already fatigued body.

  I find my footing and with one final push, I jarr the weight bearing down on me and roll sideways. Gasping for air, I roll forward and land on my knees and elbows. Praying to God for strength, I extend my elbows and push into a sitting position and take in my surroundings.

  “Oh God!”

  Jimbo’s severed head is lying to the right of me, one of his eyeballs bulging from the socket. The rest of him is laying where I was only moments before. He saved my life. I stumble to my feet, silently screaming from the horror surrounding me.

  Lukas is sprawled out on his stomach feet away from me. I rush to his side. His breathing is slow when I roll him onto his back. His eyes are closed. I shake him and his eyes slowly open.

  “Don’t leave me here, Luc!”

  “Not going anywhere, man,” he mumbles, licking his lips. “I’ve got to steal your angel from home you keep talking about all the time.”

  “You’re delirious, dude. I never said she was mine.”

  “Yes. You did. Every day now for, damn … I don’t know how many years.”

  Startled as a hand grabs my shoulder, I rotate with my beretta drawn and aim it at the new target.

  “Ollie, man, shit. Don’t sneak up on a brother like that.”

  “I’ve been yelling at your ass for the last five minutes. Probably what woke little man, here,” he says, grimacing as he moves to Luc’s other side.

  “You’re bleeding really bad, Luc.”

  He looks lower and sighs.

  “You’re losing a lot of blood and we don’t know how long it will be before help arrives. We’ve got to tourniquet your leg or we could lose you,” I pant.
r />   “You might lose your leg,” Ollie says, pulling his belt from around his waist.

  “I’ll still have my pretty face for the ladies, so y’all don’t stand a chance,” Lukas halfway jokes.

  “Always the ladies’ man,” Ollie chides.

  “Yep. I’ll be six feet under before I give that title up.”

  “Or the right woman will find you and you’ll be a goner.”

  “Never gonna happen. I’m a free roaming bull.” He laughs and his eyes glass over in pain.

  “One. Two. Three.”

  I tighten the belt. The piercing sound of his cries echo in my mind, shattering my calm façade.

  “I’ve canvassed the area. No one else made it. I was thrown back behind the rock ledge. The blast knocked the air from my lungs, but I’m good to go, Keagan. We need to make it back down and to our rendezvous with the helo. You look rough, too. Where’s the blood coming from?”

  “I’m fine. Worry about Luc.”

  A twig snaps nearby and Ollie’s gaze rivets to a nearby opening. Two masked soldiers appear and walk closer to the three of us. My gun is by my side but I’m too late again. One man aims and fires off a shot. The impact from the bullet throws Ollie backwards and he doesn’t move.

  “Fucktards, don’t come any closer,” I threaten, aiming the gun at them.

  Laughing at my comment, the larger, bulkier of the two separates. “Who’s going to stop us? You?”

  I’m momentarily shocked. He’s altering his voice. Why?

  “I will if that’s what I have to do.”

  “You’re in no position to threaten us. You should have stayed in your homeland. Never left.”

  I find my bearings and reply, “And you shouldn’t have killed innocent Americans.”

  “They deserved what happened. My god blessed the sacrifice. As he blesses yours.”

  “You are one mental asshole. Ain't never gonna happen. I’ll make sure you die.”

  “Such a tough one, laying on the ground bleeding. Trying to protect your fallen comrades,” he chuckles.

  “Enough!” shouts the other man standing with his gun drawn. “I don’t have time to listen to your bullshit rhetoric. Why are you here?”

  I remain silent, knowing that if my men are alert, they will follow my lead. Pain immediately follows as a bullet enters my gut.

  “Why are you here?”

  I fall forward and cover Lukas’s body. He’s already wounded.

  Another bullet collides with my back and I wince from the excruciating pain.

  “Why are you here?”

  Click. Click. Click. Click. The guns power off, finding a mark over and over. I pray Ollie and Lukas are not hit, again.

  I’ve almost lost consciousness as a hand grips my hair and retches my head backwards.

  “You will die. Just as the others they’ve sent. No one can stop me. Know who sent you to your maker. I am Mustaff, and your country will bow down to me and all that is mine …”

  “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I scream.

  Sweat is pouring off my temples, rolling down my jawline to my neck.

  “Keagan! Man! Keagan!”

  Someone is shaking me. The darkness surrounding me begins to lift. I’m thrashing under a strong hold. Am I tied down, now? I squint to open my eyes, cracking them slowly until I’ve adjusted to the light streaming in.

  I lie motionless when I see Ollie and Lukas standing on each side of me, restraining me by holding my shoulders and arms down.

  “You awake now?” Ollie asks.

  “Fuck. You wouldn’t wake up, Keagan,” Lukas exhales.

  I shake my head, unable to answer. I’m embarrassed and mad because I have no control over the nightmares plaguing me. Turning, I look towards the window and see the light begin to overpower the darkness. I hate the night; that’s when the nightmares return and I have to remember.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  I close my eyes and breath. The pain radiating from my back is a staunch reminder of what happened exactly one year, three months, five days ago. I won’t ever be able to forget. The memories haunt me and the pain reminds me. I’ll never be normal again.

  The first day I met Jocelyn Blackwood was my first day of high school as a senior and I didn’t know a soul. My parents served in the military and we moved so many times, I lost count. We moved to Lakeview, Florida that summer when my pop received new orders. That was me, a military brat, all my life.

  I walked into the first class and was greeted by stares. New kid on the block. I didn’t stop until I reached the back corner and slid into the chair. Glancing around, my stare returned to the door when a group of kids made their way in and took their seats in the chairs next to me.

  “Hey dude, you new to the area?” the biggest one of the group of guys asked.

  I shrug. “My family moved here in July.”

  “What’s your name?” he inquired.

  “Keagan.”

  He smiled and saluted me. “I’m Bo, and that’s David. He’s a transplant, too. I’ve lived here all my life and David moved here last spring. This place is cliquish and if you weren’t born here, it’s hard to make friends. So stick with us and we’ll show you the ropes.”

  We were interrupted when the door opened and laughing echoed in the room. I looked up and saw her. She was taller than the girl walking beside her, but you could see the similarities. They are related.

  She’s aingeal—an angel. And I wanted to know who she was.

  “That’s the Blackwood sisters. They’re off-limits, so don’t even waste your time. Totally out of your league, dude,” Bo commented when he noticed me staring.

  David nods and added, “Their family owns most of the town. Her pop has a big ranch near Pond Creek. Couple of guys got busted out there a few weeks back and he tackled ‘em and called the cops. They were trying to sneak in and meet with Fallyn. She’s the shorter one.”

  I continued to stare. “Who’s the other one? What’s her name?”

  “Jocelyn. She’s really shy and doesn’t talk to anybody but her sister. She comes to school, cheers, and goes home. That’s about it.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Not sure. She keeps to herself.”

  Our conversation ended when the bell rang. The teacher stood and began the lesson. I wanted to know more about the aingeal named Jocelyn. That was the day I met her and it changed my life forever.

  A week later, I was standing in line waiting to get my shoes at the local bowling alley. My brother Wade talked me into bringing him on that day. I hadn’t stopped thinking of Jocelyn Blackwood. She consumed my thoughts too much. I glanced around the alley, looking for something to take my mind off of her. The music was blaring as the lights flicked different colors to the beat.

  I had hoped by coming here we’d meet some new friends and a few girls to help take my mind off of her. I was probably the youngest in my grade. Most guys had been driving for two years and I had just got my license in the spring. My momma said I’d be a late bloomer, but at the time, I was a seventeen-year-old with raging hormones and all I could think about was, well, girls, girls, girls.

  That's when I saw her standing there through the cut-out window in the wall handing out shoes.

  The timid slip of a girl had sandy blonde naturally curly hair that sat just above her shoulders. Her hair was hanging loosely in her face, but I got a glimpse of the most beautiful pair of emerald green eyes. I couldn’t breathe. M’aingeal. My Angel.

  My brother nudged me forward, but all I could do was stare.

  That's when I heard her say, "What size?"

  The sound of her voice did funny things to my insides. My brother bumped me again, slightly laughing, when he gave her his shoes and size.

  When I finally mobilized myself, I reached the counter with my shoes in hand and brushed against her fingers for a brief moment. The electricity bolted from her into me and I instantly wanted to touch her again. She smiled at me as if she knew what I was thinking. She was the cu
test little thing I'd ever laid eyes on.

  She asked again, "What size?"

  I then mustered up the courage to speak in a quick breath, "Ten and a half.”

  She disappeared behind the counter and came back a few moments later with my bowling shoes. I didn't want to leave, but seeing as there were more people waiting, I left the counter. As I walked away, I mumbled to myself, "I'm going to marry that girl one day." She’s M’aingeal.

  During midterm exams, I was amazed at the performance Jocelyn gave Mr. Manfurd, our Spanish teacher. I didn't even have to say a word; she took care of everything. And the best part of all, her pop would not find out, which seemed like a big deal to her, always. And this girl had me wrapped around her finger, even if we’re just friends. I smiled my biggest smile. She was amazing. Everything about her was simply fantastic. I wished she could see herself the way I did.

  After leaving Mr. Manfurd’s class, I had a moment to talk to Jocelyn. "Thanks, Jo," I said. Wow that was deep, Keagan!

  Since the night we went out to Vino’s and got to know each other, I became her not-boyfriend. She’d tried to set me up with several of her friends, never even considering the little messages I’d been hinting to her here and there. That's alright. I was a patient guy; I could wait, and I knew she'd be worth it.

  Although, it’s not just her I had to contend with. There was Mr. Blackwood, since she couldn’t date yet. I had a few conversations with him in Farm Ed. He was a tough nut to crack, but I liked puzzles, so I’d figure him out.

  Jocelyn stopped in her tracks and peered up at me with those gorgeous green eyes. It’s like she could see right into my soul. I wonder what she saw.

  "I'm glad I could help us both out. We did not need the trouble, Keagan. After all, you were trying to help me. I couldn't let you take the fall for something that was mostly my fault! I appreciate you and your friendship too much, Keagan. High school wouldn't be the same without you."

  I watched as her lips formed the words. I heard her voice, but I couldn’t reply. Those pouty lips needed to be licked and sucked. Damn, I needed to get laid. I mustered up my control and told her what I thought she’d want to hear: “Ditto, Jo. I feel the same.”