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He clenched his jaw, lifting his gaze to hers.
“9-1-1 operator, what’s your emergency?”
Jared came closer, his voice low. “Holly, don’t do it. You’ve assaulted a police officer. This won’t end well for you.”
Holly raised her arm, aiming the pistol at Jared’s forehead as she pressed the phone to her ear. “My fiancé, Detective JaredPeretti from King County Major Crimes, just assaulted me. He tried to kill me. And he’s still here in my apartment.”
“Okay, Miss. Are you still in danger?”
Jared’s gaze was unblinking and unwavering like a dark, icy abyss.
“I have him at gunpoint.”
He stood still, seeing she was no longer helpless.
“Can I have your name, Miss?”
“Holly. Holly Sparks.”
“Okay, Holly. Can I have your address?”
Holly rattled it off, holding Jared’s dark gaze. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, with each passing second.
“Please hurry,” she added. “He might try to take the gun from me. He’s drunk, and his temper is out of control.”
“A unit is en route. I’ll stay on the line with you until they arrive.”
It was then Holly spotted the frying pan in Jared’s hand. His arm swung upward, holding the pan like a tennis racket. Holly squeezed the trigger. A blast erupted from the gun at the same time the pan impacted with the side of her face, and everything went black.
Chapter 12
JOHN
May 1985
John trudged through the snowy woods next to his dad. A golden eagle soared above the treetops, its wings outstretched as it scoured the woods for prey. John quickened his pace, trekking ahead of his father while imagining he was White Fang running from his abusive owner.
“Not so fast,” his dad said.
Begrudgingly, John slowed his steps, admiring the woods around them. They’d touched down in Fairbanks four days ago, and John was already dreading going home tomorrow. His dad had been right about Alaska. It was magical.
John inhaled a deep breath of cold forest air, relishing in the freedom of being so far from home. He surveyed the quiet woods, the only sound coming through the trees to their left, the rush of water from the Chena River. Being strangers in afaraway town where nobody knew them felt like a vacation from everything worrying him. He hadn’t even thought about Sally since they’d arrived.
John silently vowed to return here one day when he was older. He pictured having a cabin in a remote forest with a cozy fireplace and a bookshelf filled with his favorite stories.
John felt the tug of his father’s grip on his coat and spun. “What?”
His dad lifted a finger to his lips. “Shh.” He stopped and leaned against the trunk of a spruce tree.
John lowered his voice. “What are we doing?”
“We’re waiting.”
John surveyed the white surrounding woods, wishing he’d brought the copy ofEnder’s Gamethat his dad had bought him for the trip. It wasn’t what he normally read, but John had been surprised how much he was enjoying it, finding himself eager to get back to it in the evenings. He could see it becoming a movie one day.
John turned toward his dad. “Can I make a snowman?”
His father shook his head. “No. You could scare away the prey. We came here to scout out hunting grounds. We need to stay still, blend in with our own surroundings.” He ran a hand down the rifle strap slung over his chest. “Patience is the key to being a good hunter.”