Excerpt from
Crimson Point Series
By Kaylea Cross
Copyright © 2021 Kaylea Cross
Chapter One
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Portland.”
Ryder stared out the window at the wet, green landscape and rolled his head and shoulders to stretch his tight muscles as the plane taxied to the gate. After enduring three flights and two layovers on the journey from North Carolina, he was more than ready to get his ass in a car and hit the road. Local time here in Portland was 15:25, and he still had a four-hour drive down to the coast ahead of him.
This trip was either going to make him or break him. And he couldn’t afford to break.
As soon as the plane parked at the gate, he turned his phone back on. Immediately text messages began popping up. His mom, checking to see if he’d made it to Portland okay. And one from his cousin, Molly.
Sorry, got called into work a night shift last minute. Jase is meeting you at the rental instead. See you tomorrow! xo
Shrugging on the backpack he’d brought as a carryon, he filed out into the terminal with the other passengers. He wasn’t hungry, but he deliberately looked away from the bars he passed and kept going. This was all part of the test, and so far he was passing with flying colors. He’d even avoided the temptation to order alcohol from the drink cart every time it had come by on the flights.
After getting his bag at the luggage carousel, he went to get his rental vehicle and began the drive down to Crimson Point. It was dark out, light rain falling on the windshield, slicking the road and making it hard to see with the glare of the headlights coming at him.
His phone rang twenty minutes into the trip. His best friend, Chase, calling from LA. “Wow, miss me already?” he joked as he drove south on the I-5.
“So much,” Chase answered, his Outer Banks accent stronger than Ryder’s. “Where y’at now?”
“Just south of the airport, about to get on the highway out to the coast. What are you two lovebirds up to? Or should I not ask?” They’d just gotten engaged and were taking a few weeks to themselves out of public view, holed up in an ocean-front villa they’d rented.
“Just had a couple’s massage, took a soak in the hot tub, and now we’re about to watch a movie I picked out.”
He smirked. Chase getting a couple’s massage? “You guys make me sick.”
Chase laughed. “We make ourselves sick sometimes. So? Heard from Molly?”
“She got called into work. Jase is meeting me instead.”
“Ah. And? How’s the other thing?”
The drinking. Or not drinking. “So far, so good.”
“Awesome.”
Yeah. Trying to tame his demons with booze was a bad habit he’d developed over the past couple months, and it needed to stop. This trip was the perfect chance to reset before returning to LA.
“Any word about the stunts for the new movie yet?” In a few weeks they’d all be heading to Australia for at least three months. Becca was the leading lady, Chase was one of the stunt performers. And as Becca’s personal bodyguard, Ryder would be going with them.
“Just got the script last night. It’s awesome,” his friend said, voice laced with excitement. “There’s an epic underwater sequence I’m looking forward to doin’. Sure you wouldn’t rather join me on crew, rather than watch Becca all the time?”
“I’m sure.” The little bit of stunt work he’d done with Chase had been fun, but he couldn’t see himself doing it full time. Chase was the adrenaline junkie, not him. “Becca’s a lot better looking than you anyway.”
He ended the call feeling a bit wistful. With Chase and Becca having a private, romantic getaway, they hadn’t needed—or wanted—him around. While he completely understood, it underscored something he’d been subconsciously feeling ever since coming home from his last tour with the Corps.
In so many ways it felt like he didn’t fit in anywhere now. With his best friend crazy in love and getting married next year, it made Ryder feel even more alone. All he had at the moment was his job, though if it weren’t for working with Becca and still getting to hang with Chase, his heart wouldn’t really be in it.
By the time he reached the turnoff for Crimson Point hours later, he was looking forward to a hot shower and crawling into bed. With fewer lights around and the area more sparsely populated, the darkness seemed to envelop everything, the moon completely hidden behind a thick wall of cloud.
Reaching the end of the access road, he turned right onto Front Street, just able to make out the waves rolling onto the beach to his left. The town was cute, and the citizens had gone all out with the holiday decorations.
Tall, old-fashioned streetlamps were done up like candy canes with strings of red and white lights for the season, more lights strung between them in the shape of messages like Happy Holidays. A heavy layer of fog was rolling in along the beach. The rain had stopped, leaving the road wet, the multicolored lights of the town glistening on the damp surface.
With Christmas just a few days away, the town was busy for a Thursday night, both sides of the street lined with vehicles, people out for dinner or doing some shopping. All the little shops and businesses along the waterfront were all lit up with colorful strands of lights, with decorated wreaths hanging in the windows, and one place had a pair of tall nutcrackers standing guard on either side of its front doorway.
At the end of the main strip, he turned right at the T in the road and began the climb up the hill away from the water. Given how heavily wooded the area was, the GPS was no help. He managed to find Honeysuckle Lane on his own and turned left off it, immediately spotting the gray craftsman-style cottage set back from the road amongst some tall cedars surrounding the lot.
A big silver pickup was parked out front. When he pulled into the driveway, the front door of the cottage opened to reveal a man wearing a brown, WWII-era bomber jacket, and holding a toddler on his hip.
His cousin’s husband, and their little girl.
Ryder climbed out of the rental vehicle, glad to stretch his legs. “Hey, man.”
“Hey. You made good time.” On the top step Jase shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, aqua eyes glinting under the porch light. “How was the drive?”
The little girl was staring at him warily from wide, dark eyes. “Good,” he answered, giving her a smile that got him nowhere. “Thanks for putting me up.”
“No problem. We thought you could use some peace and quiet while you’re here.”
He definitely appreciated that. “And you’re Savannah-banana,” he said to the little girl clinging to Jase’s neck. He’d talked to her via video chat a couple times, but apparently that didn’t matter.
“Say hi to Uncle Ryder,” Jase told her.
Savannah buried her face in her dad’s neck, then peeked at Ryder with deep brown eyes. Carter’s eyes. Molly’s first husband, and Jase’s best friend. He’d died right after Molly had gotten pregnant. “Hi, sweetheart.” He was careful not to crowd her, didn’t reach for or try to touch her. “You can play shy now, but by the time I leave, we’ll be best pals.”
“I don’t doubt it. Come on inside.” Jase stepped back out of the way to let Ryder pass.
The inside of the cottage was cozy and tidy, with new furnishings and appliances. It also smelled like fresh paint. “Nice place.”
“It’s our most recent rental we just finished up. Was supposed to be one of our easiest and quickest projects, until we started the plumbing and electrical upgrades and realized we had to rip everything out and redo it all from scratch.”
“Never fails with renos,” he said, glancing toward the master bedroom door left open at the end of the hall.
“Don’t I know it. Moll stocked the fridge and pantry for you this morning, and the last renters left some things too. Go ahead and eat whatever you want. There’s a grocery store and other little food shops in town, and there’s a supermarket about a mile north of town if you need it.” He shifted Savannah on his hip, the toddler now squirming and fussing. “Need anything else before I go get this little girl home to bed?”
“No, I’m good.” He leaned down slightly to put himself at eye level with Savannah, who froze, and gave her a grin. “See you tomorrow, cutie.”
She merely stared at him as if she was convinced he was a criminal or something. Jase ruffled her curls with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, she’ll warm up to you in no time once she’s had her beauty sleep. And then you’ll be sorry.”
“Thanks for meeting me, man.”
“No problem. Have you met Noah yet, by the way?”
“No.” The town sheriff.
“He and his wife live just two doors down on Honeysuckle. You’ll probably meet them in the next day or two. Moll will call you once she has some sleep tomorrow, probably around noon or so. If you need anything before that, just gimme a shout,” Jase finished as he stepped outside onto the porch.
“Sounds good. See you tomorrow.”
He locked the door behind Jase and let out a sigh, drinking up the quiet. Once Jase’s truck pulled away, the only sound was the wind swirling in the trees outside, and the distant, muted roar of the ocean in the distance.
Perfect.
On his way to the bedroom he stopped to check out the fridge. As usual Molly had thought of everything, setting him up with enough food to last several days. Not that he planned on cooking much while he was here.
The cupboards were stocked with peanut butter, tea, coffee and pasta. And the pantry…
He stopped, fingers still on the light switch, as his gaze locked on the glint of bottles lined up neatly on a shelf at the back. Some were vinegars and oils. But his eyes shot past them right to the one with the distinctive square, black label with white font.
His new nemesis, Jack. The crutch he’d been using to help get him through the nights when his demons wouldn’t let him rest.
There were other kinds of booze as well. Vodka and a couple bottles of wine. But that Jack drew him. His mouth watered, and the sudden, intense craving took him off guard. He had to stem the impulse to reach for it.
You should pour it out. All of them. Right now.
He shut the pantry door and made himself walk away, shocked by how much he’d been tempted to uncap that bottle and take a pull. He was stronger than the craving. Strong enough to leave that bottle untouched, to use this trip to shed old habits and get his head on straight.
He’d been a warrior his whole adult life. This was his new battle, and there could only be one winner. Him, or the bottle.
****
Danae paused in front of her son’s bedroom door and knocked twice. There was no answer, but she could hear Finn talking animatedly to someone in the background. Lost in gaming land.
Withholding an impatient sigh, she opened the door to find Finn at his desk on his computer, headset on while he gamed with someone. She wrinkled her nose at the heavy smell of teenage body oil infusing the air, and mentally shook her head. The room looked like a vampire lair, the blinds shut tight to block out even the merest hint of light that might otherwise have seeped into the room from outside. Various empty glasses and cups cluttered every flat surface, and junk food wrappers overflowed from the trash bin next to his desk.
Pick your battles, mama. Nagging him to clean up or air out his room always ended in an argument. Sometimes it seemed like their entire relationship was a cycle of nagging and arguing.
When he continued to ignore her she sighed and motioned with her hand to get his attention. Finn gave her the body language equivalent of an eye roll and reluctantly pulled his headset down around his neck. “Yeah?”
“I have to head into the clinic for a bit. Not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll grab us something for dinner on the way home. Feel like anything in particular?”
“Nah, I won’t be here anyway. Going out with friends in a bit.”
She frowned. They’d only been here a few weeks, and he hadn’t mentioned making any friends yet. She was glad he was at least making an effort to be social and fit in. The move hadn’t been easy for him. “How are you getting there?”
“Bus.”
That was a first. She’d never been able to get him to take the bus back in Seattle. “Okay, but be home by ten. You have work in the morning.”
“I know, Mom.” This time he did roll his eyes, and pulled his headset back up, dismissing her as he turned his attention back to his computer.
A pang of hurt hit her, even as she scolded herself and shut the door behind her. He was a teenager. Apparently this whole pulling away thing was normal. Healthy, even. Finn’s way of distancing himself from her, to gain more independence in preparation for striking out on his own in a few years.
Except right now the thought just made her want to cry.
She walked back down the hall of the little bungalow they were renting, swallowing the lump in her throat. The glow of the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the living room made her pause, a moment of wistfulness taking hold. Being a single parent was so much harder than she’d expected. She was trying her best to keep a happy face on, but it was so damn hard, and Christmas made it all worse.
Finn still resented her for dragging him here from their former life in Seattle, to take a better job with better pay and benefits, and to give them a change of scenery. To get them away from the painful reminders of loss everywhere they looked back home.
Pulling on her coat, she paused in the foyer to leave a twenty-dollar bill on the little table for Finn, along with a note.
Have fun and keep your phone on. Love, Mom
He’d probably roll his eyes again, but it made her feel better. Nobody had warned her how hard it was to watch your baby pull away. Until three years ago he’d been crazy attached to her. Then tragedy had struck, and nothing had been the same since. For either of them.
Outside the air was cool and damp, the wind sighing in the tops of the tall evergreen trees. She climbed into her purple Mini, Professor Plum, and backed out of the driveway. As she turned the corner she spotted Jase out in front of the rental cottage, setting Savannah into her car seat in the backseat of his truck. An SUV was parked beside it.
She pipped her horn lightly and got a friendly wave in return. The lights in the cottage were all on, signaling someone was staying there.
Whoever it was, she hoped they were friendly. Given the state of her life at the moment, she could do with more friends.
*End Excerpt*