Fragile Sanctuary (Sparrow Falls Book 1)

I raced through the field behind Rho’s house, the figure in front of me nothing but a dark outline in his hoodie and jeans. “Stop!” I barked.

The figure didn’t listen; he kept right on running. It was a damn good thing I’d been running out my demons on the trails near my cabin; otherwise, this guy would’ve easily left me in the dust.

That in and of itself gave me information. Young. Able-bodied. Likely an athlete or at least someone who stayed in shape.

A list of suspects began building in my mind. I hadn’t wanted to ask Rho about any of the people on my short list because I hadn’t wanted to put doubts in her mind about people she knew. Not when the unsub could’ve just as easily been someone she’d never even talked to.

People could fixate without any true relationship. They would build something out of nothing in their mind. And it could so easily be twisted.

The figure in front of me caught his foot on a log and cursed.

More information. Definitely male. Not that my half-completed profile suggested anything else.

I gained on him, my muscles burning as I pushed harder.

Something flew in my direction as I ran. I ducked just in time as a rock whizzed past me, grazing my cheek. I couldn’t help the curse I spat.

How the hell had he managed to get his hands on a rock? When he tripped?

At least that told me he likely didn’t have a weapon. But he was also desperate, so who knew what he’d do?

My mind moved through countless psychological equations. A million different possible outcomes based on the circumstances. There was no way I could know for sure how he’d react to any given stimuli. I just had to take my best guess.

We were fifty yards from the tree line, give or take. It was now or never because he’d soon have coverage.

I stopped dead in my tracks and lifted my weapon. I aimed at the tree ahead of the figure and squeezed the trigger. The release of the bullet sent a crack through the air.

The recoil was familiar, the bite into my muscles.

The man spat a slew of curses but didn’t stop. He only ran faster.

Hell.

I’d hoped it would spook him enough that he’d turn himself in. But my wager had been wrong.

I started after him again, refusing to lose sight of the figure. He didn’t get to terrorize Rho. Hurt her. That familiar surge of fury gave me a dose of adrenaline, helping me gain on the man.

“Cops are en route. There’s no way out of this,” I yelled.

He only kept running, reaching the trees and disappearing into the thickest foliage.

“Damn it,” I muttered, slowing.

I stopped for a brief second to listen.

The snap of twigs to my right told me where he was. I followed the sounds as quietly as possible. The task was nearly impossible, with the moon providing the only light. I picked my way through brush and trees, but then the noises stopped altogether.

I slowed, trying to see into the dark.

A fist crashed into the side of my face out of nowhere. The force of it had me stumbling back a step and seeing stars, but instinct had me blocking the next blow and returning the strike.

The man grunted as my left fist connected with his jaw. It was his turn to fall back. I couldn’t make out a face, just shadows beneath the hood of a black sweatshirt.

I raised my gun. “Don’t fucking move.”

But the man wasn’t in his right mind. “You’re not going to hurt her!”

He charged.

I fired.

The shot clipped the man’s shoulder just before he collided with me. He screamed out in pain but kept right on going.

We hit the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of me.

He pressed his forearm into my neck, cutting off my air supply. So, I did the only thing I could. I punched him right in the bullet wound.

He cried out in agony.

It distracted him enough that I was able to clock him with the butt of my gun. The man went down like a ton of bricks.

I shoved him off me, struggling to my feet just as someone crashed through the trees. I whirled, aiming my weapon.

Rho skidded to a stop in front of me, her eyes going wide. She stood there in tie-dyed sweats, her hair wild, and her feet fucking bare. Tears glimmered in her eyes. “You’re okay?”

“Where are your shoes?” I barked.

She didn’t say a word; simply threw herself at me. “You’re okay.”

Her arms ran up and down me as if checking for wounds. “You’re okay,” she said again.

“I’m good, Reckless.”

She shuddered against me, her head bobbing up and down in a staccato nod. She let out another breath. “Where is—? Oh, God.”

Rho jolted as she took in the figure out cold on the ground.

I pulled back, trying to take in her face. “You know him?”

Her eyes cut to me, and I saw so much hurt there. “Felix. The first boy I ever kissed.”