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PROLOGUE
It’s finally happening.I’ve waited so long. All the planning, the agony, the longing. It will be worth it. I can taste the sweet freedom just beyond my reach. It will be so liberating.
I’ve locked up this desire, this loss, for far too long. I tried to fight it. It’s no use. I must do it.
It’s the only way to make it stop.
I feel like an imposter in this skin. I’ve stretched it too far already. It hurts. It hurts all the time.
It will hurt until I make the hurt stop.
I pull up my hood. Let this black shroud be my armor. It’s a poor substitute for a disguise but it will do. Disguising my identity is easy when my identity is a disguise. But soon I can shed this skin. Soon I can be myself.
Soon it will stop.
My victim walks toward me. He approaches with a smile. He shouldn’t trust me, but he does. They always do. There’s no time left. I grip the hilt of my blade, let the old steel calm me. It’s time to end this madness.
Time to make it stop.
1
The sun-bleached dollarbills billowed like boat flags in the humid breeze generated by the clusters of rusted fans. Dust clung to them like a second skin, dulling the metallic buzz until it was absorbed by the daily sounds of the busy marina. Sail lines clanked, buoys squeaked, seabirds squawked.
It was a soundtrack that normally soothed Jake Shepard, but he found his gaze restless. He systematically scanned the beach-clad patrons seeking shelter from the blazing Florida sun under the colorful umbrellas and sagging sun sails.
The crunch of pebbles beneath their feet as they stomped out a rhythm to the one-man band crooning Southern blues on stage was unnerving. It shouldn’t be. Schooner’s Wharf was the one place Jake could escape it all. Where he could blend into the leather-skinned locals crowding the old Key West dive bar.
It was easy to disappear among the clutter.
Stickers, coasters, and patches from every branch of military and police were stapled into the hurricane petrified wood.
Here you were everyone and no one.
Here Jake could pretend he didn’t live his life looking over his shoulder.
At least that’s how it’d been every other time he’d visited.
But something was off this time.
The creak of a saloon door had him looking toward the restrooms. That’s when he saw her walking toward him, her dark hair unbound, sun-kissed freckles dappling her cheeks: Dana Gray.
Her grin widened as she walked in his direction. As usual, the mere sight of her distracted him to the point of carelessness. And that was when she was in her usual stuffy librarian attire.
Here, in a red bikini and white sundress that left little to the imagination, Dana was a vision. One that demanded all of his attention. So much so that the flash of gun metal surprised him.
It was almost indecipherable among the dull propellers and aged bronze ship paraphernalia. But Jake had been trained to spot it. Though this time, the loud echo of gunfire told him he was too late.
Jake woke with a start,his hand automatically reaching out for Dana even though he knew she wouldn’t be there. It didn’t escape him that it was his own damn fault he was waking up from another nightmare alone.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he sat up letting the regret settle over him as he absorbed the scene around him. Another day in his cramped childhood bedroom.
Another day waking from the same dream-turned-nightmare.
Another day without Dana.
Jake exhaled heavily as he replayed his last conversation with Dana over again.
“Jake, I’ll come with you.”
