The Line in the Fire (Bullets and Bonds Book 1), page 1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2022 by Myka Bound
Cover design copyright © 2022 by Gina Rinderle
All rights reserved. Published by Tripawd Publishing in Grand Junction, Colorado.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contact info:
www.mykabound.com
books@mykabound.com
ISBN: 978-1-7349433-7-5 (ebook)
Author’s note: An early version of this story was published under Myka Bound’s alternate pen name, Casey Bering. That version is no longer available.
TRIGGER WARNINGS
Mature content
Graphic violence
Death
Reference to past sexual assault (not detailed)
Brief thoughts of self-harm
CONTENTS
Prologue
1. Cameron
2. Cameron
3. Cameron
4. Luke
5. Luke
6. Cameron
7. Luke
8. Cameron
9. Cameron
10. Luke
11. Cameron
12. Cameron
13. Luke
14. Cameron
15. Luke
16. Cameron
17. Luke
18. Cameron
19. Cameron
20. Cameron
21. Luke
22. Cameron
23. Cameron
24. Cameron
25. Luke
26. Cameron
27. Luke
28. Luke
29. Cameron
30. Luke
31. Cameron
32. Luke
33. Luke
34. Cameron
35. Luke
36. Cameron
37. Luke
38. Cameron
39. Luke
40. Cameron
41. Cameron
42. Cameron
43. Cameron
44. Luke
45. Luke
46. Luke
47. Cameron
48. Luke
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About the Author
PROLOGUE
CAMERON - TWELVE YEARS OLD
I stumbled twice as I ran, skidding hard on my knees in the cold dirt. “Mom?” My pulse skipped and stuttered with my panicked thoughts. I reached out a shaky hand to touch her shoulder, daring to hope she was still there, still breathing.
She didn’t respond.
I shook her gently. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe I could wake her and bring her back to me. I shook her harder. When her head rolled and the long brown hair splayed across her face slid sideways, my heart leapt. Her eyes were open!
Except she wasn’t looking at me.
She wasn’t looking at anything. Those light gray eyes stared blankly out past the stables and across the frozen hayfield beyond.
“No.” The denial came out on a whimper that started in my toes. “No, no, no.” I moved to cradle her head in my hands but yanked them back when something warm and wet spilled over my fingers.
Blood.
Tears blurred my vision. Bile filled the back of my throat.
I wrenched sideways, twisting away from her body. This couldn’t be happening, not to my mom. I pinched my own arm as hard as I could. It was a feeble attempt to wake myself from the nightmare the morning had become, but I had to try something.
Wincing at the sting, I looked down. Stupid, stupid girl.
My fingers left a brilliant smear of red across my tan sleeve and my stomach rolled again. I slammed my eyes shut, bracing myself against the sensation, swallowing hard, over and over, willing it to pass. Willing it all to pass.
All I wanted to do was curl up next to her and make it all go away.
And if that didn’t work, maybe I could follow her wherever she was going. I eyed the pistol laying in the dirt and reached for it, smearing a streak of dark red across the grip. It was too big for my shaky hand, and heavier than I remembered, but that was okay. I only needed one shot.
One clean shot and I could go with her.
I wiped my bloody sleeve across my nose, nearly smiling at how clever I was. Until I looked up at the rundown house and saw three frightened little faces peering out at me through the window.
CHAPTER 1
CAMERON - FIFTEEN YEARS LATER
The breeze shifted, blowing a few defiant strands of hair across my cheek. Leaves rustled all around, but that soft sound wasn’t what drew me to a halt along the battered trail. There was something distinctly metallic in the mix.
I waited, my right hand resting on the butt of my pistol, until that barely audible clink of metal on metal came again.
I moved without thought, edging closer to the sound while I let my training guide my senses, sifting through the melody of the forest, searching for anything else out of place. Every insect in the vicinity rose to the occasion, creating a wave of buzzing, whining, and chittering that filled the air.
But even with their clatter I heard it again, closer than before.
I inhaled deeply, dismissing the ever-present spice of pine threaded with the sweet hint of decomposing leaves, picking up a new scent carrying over the morning breeze. Warm and earthy, and so familiar that a wave of homesickness had me pulling up short for a beat. There was a horse nearby. I would bet my dinner on it.
Not that I had enough food left in my pack to back up that wager.
The problem was, where there were horses, there were people. I glanced ahead and behind, but the trail was empty, the same as it had been nearly every day since my mission had drawn me north, away from the soothing, salt-crusted shores of the lower territory.
Movement in the shadows caught my eye. It was little more than a shimmer of gray in a sea of towering trees, but once the shape was clear in my mind, there was no mistaking it.
The creature was on the run and coming in fast, without a rider.
A handful of questions shot through my mind. Where was it coming from? Why was it running? And last, but not least, could I stop it?
I eased my hand away from my gun, leaving it nestled in the holster as I stepped to the middle of the path with the one-ton creature bearing down on me. The whites of its eyes shone bright, even in the shade of the woods.
Running scared. That was something I could work with.
I pressed my finger and thumb to my lips and let out a whistle that could have split eardrums. The horse’s gaze locked on mine, the sound giving the animal an instant point of focus, and it lowered its head without slowing.
Okay, so, maybe that wasn’t the smartest move.
My family ran a horse ranch. I’d spent my entire life around them. If I had to dive off the path because I’d lost the ability to deal with a frightened horse, of all creatures, I would be less than impressed.
I held my ground but forced my features to soften. The animal was reading my body language as much as I was reading his. At this range, it was clear he was big, and male, and I had precious few moments to convince him I wasn’t a threat.
Anxious energy seeped into my limbs, but I tempered my elevating heart rate with slow, measured breaths.
It was easy to calculate my options here because there were really only two. He would stop or he wouldn’t. I would move or I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to dig into my pathfinding magic to figure that out, thank the stars.
Was it reckless of me to bet he would blink first?
Probably.
The closer he got, the more my tired muscles tensed, preparing for the dive that would inevitably throw me into the thorny brambles. Of course I was having a showdown with a horse here, where my options were to get trampled or wind up tangled in the barbed brush lining the path. A meadow would have been too easy. Then again, in a meadow he would have steered clear.
The narrow path and that vicious undergrowth were the only things funneling him my way.
I held one hand out in front of me, palm out, a clear indication for the creature to stop. If he had any training at all, he would know the signal. I fought to keep my features soft, and to keep the tension in my shoulders from creeping up my neck and into my jaw. Zero threat. If he didn’t see me as friendly, I didn’t stand a chance in hell of catching him.
He barreled forward until the last second and I did my best to still the tremble in my hand as he skidded to a stop in front of me, kicking up a cloud of dust. My body sagged with relief, but I knew better than to let the sound of it slip through my lips. He was still frightened, and any unexpected noise could set him off again.
Instead, I blew out a long, slow breath through loose lips and simply stood there, letting the animal settle. For as powerful as he looked, he took his sweet time, his eyes still a little wild from running.
I couldn’t really blame him for being weary of me. It wasn’t like I was all that fond of meeting new people these days.
He was a handsome specimen though, quite a bit larger than a typical riding horse. Which explained the harness. I marked the aged, but maintained leather of the straps, and the broken chain dangling from his side, before turning my attention to the woods surrounding us. Just because he was on the run, it didn’t mean he was alone. Someone was bound to come looking for him, assuming they weren’t already hot on his trail.
A work animal like that was a prized possession and worth a small fortune to the people who lived this far out from civilization.
I inspected the steed’s rigging as best I could from where I stood, letting him catch my scent before he dared to venture closer. The broken heel chain was telling, fitting perfectly with the image of him tearing down the trail in terror.
Something had spooked him, and not just a little. To break a chain like that, he would have had to rear and twist against a significant amount of weight. Otherwise, he would have been dragging whatever he was pulling along behind him.
A sapling rustled to my left, and my hand dropped back to my pistol automatically. A pair of squirrels leapt playfully from its flimsy trunk and skittered along the ground, one pouncing on the other, sending them both tumbling through the dirt.
I let out the breath that had caught in my chest. “That’s a good way to get shot,” I whispered, more to myself than anything.
The playful rodents regained their footing, gave me a fleeting glance, and disappeared into the forest, chirping at each other as they went. Whether I’d scared them or not, I couldn’t tell, but my muttering did earn me a quizzical look from the steed.
I offered him a slow nod, as if to say my comment wasn’t directed at him, and let my hand fall away from my gun. Horses were intelligent creatures for the most part, but they were rarely treated as such. Someone who was raised around them could often tell the difference between one that was brought up respectfully and one that wasn’t.
The way that horse looked back at me now, with hope and budding trust in his big eyes, spoke of not just respect, but love. He was likely as much a pet as he was a work horse.
“Hey boy,” I murmured, reaching slowly for his reins.
He didn’t try to back away, but the flick of his ear told me he still had his doubts about me. That was fair. I kept my movements slow, easing forward and talking to him in my most soothing voice as I gathered the thin leather straps, letting them hang loose in my open hands.
How things went between us hinged on what happened next, and it was all up to him. Would he deem me worthy and hold his ground or rear back and bolt?
To my surprise, the big animal did one better and inched closer to me. It was a small victory, but I would absolutely take it. Victories had been few and far between for me as of late.
“Hi, buddy,” I said, rewarding him with a soft smile for the vote of confidence. “Who do you belong to?” I ran a hand down his powerful neck, reveling in the slick feel of his short hair.
He let out a gentle snort in response.
“Well then, what do you say we take a walk, and we’ll see if we can find them along the way?”
He swung his head around and nudged my shoulder like we were old friends.
Why couldn’t people be that easy to deal with?
A while later, off the side of a particularly rough patch of trail, we came upon a large, overturned wagon with dozens of freshly cut logs strewn around it. If I’d had to guess, I would say the chaos was entirely my new companion’s fault, but at least it didn’t look like there were any broken or mutilated bodies in the mix.
“Hello?” I called, pitching my voice loud enough to project it far into the trees in case the horse’s owners were combing the woods in search of him. The second the word was out of my mouth, the wagon tilted up off its side, and I took a startled step back.
“Stand clear!” a deep voice boomed.
The thing creaked and groaned as the thick wooden panels and steel frame rose and teetered precariously on two wheels. I shuffled backward, urging the horse with me, almost too late. The racket the wagon would make as it came down might frighten the poor creature again and send it barreling back through the woods.
After a moment of dancing on the edge, the wagon crashed onto its four wheels, but the horse only flicked his ears and huffed.
Huh. Not the reaction I was expecting after the way I’d found him.
I let the wagon settle for a beat before craning my neck, silently cursing the genes that left me not quite tall enough to see over the side panels. “Any chance this lovely steed here belongs to any of you folks back there?”
“If he’s a big, gray dummy who bolts any time he thinks he’s laid eyes on a snake,” the same masculine voice said, “then yeah, he’s with me.”
I couldn’t tell from the man’s tone if he was upset with the horse or if his words were intended to playfully mock the animal. The friendly smile he flashed as he moved into view, brushing dirt and leaves from his pants, answered my question.
“Luke Kendrick,” he said, stretching out his hand in greeting.
“Cameron,” I replied, hesitating for only a moment before stepping forward. I pulled in a bracing breath that lodged in my lungs the second his calloused hand enveloped mine. The warmth of his grip lit little fires along my nerve endings, shooting a wave of heat up the length of my arm and shoulder, searing deep into the base of my skull. My vision wavered, replaced by a flash of flames dancing against the night sky. Those flames spread like lightning, scorching a path through me, until my body was twisted with agony and my heart felt like it was being ripped in two.
One breath, one touch, and I knew . . . he would be the death of me.
In the next heartbeat, that overwhelming sense of darkness winked out. My stumbling pulse wasn’t so quick to recover.
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” His eyes never left my face, but I couldn’t tell if he’d noticed my internal reaction.
“Yeah.” I released his hand, barely controlling the urge to rip it free of his grip and shake the lingering sensation out of it. “Same to you.” That wasn’t quite a lie, but it was dangerously close.
He offered me a dangerously charming smile and tipped his head toward the horse. “Thank you for bringing Dante back to me. I had big plans to go searching for him after I got this contraption right side up.”
It took effort to drag my attention away from his strong features, especially the way the cords in his neck pulled when he turned to look at the animal.
“My pleasure.” I probably should have said more, but it had been over a week since I’d spoken to another soul. Months had passed since I’d had a conversation that was about anything other than bartering for food or looking for leads on my current target.
The only target in the world that truly mattered to me.
“It was nice to have company for a bit,” I finally added, running my hand down the horse’s strong shoulder.
Luke’s lips quirked up on one side, like he wasn’t sure if I was joking. I wasn’t, but why had I felt the need to add anything? I tucked an errant strand from my messy braid behind my ear and offered him a stiff smile.
He didn’t need to know that I spent the bulk of my waking hours ignoring the ache of homesickness growing in my chest, or that sharing a few minutes with his handsome horse was the closest I’d come to feeling like anything other than an outsider in recent months.
I shoved away my discomfort and leaned to the side, peering around Luke toward the back of the wagon. “Are your helpers too shy to introduce themselves?”
“My what?” He turned to follow my gaze and understanding lit his handsome face. “Ah, no helpers on that little project, unless you count leverage and gravity.”
