Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

secretary’s voice carried through the thick wood door.
    “Very good. Send him in.” He ran his fingers through his hair and planted himself behind his desk. When the door opened a moment later, he was ready with a congenial smile and a proper salute. “Admiral. How great to see you.”
     
     
    Normally, Grace loved the way the sun filtered through the pine trees and shone down on her small house. This morning, however, the rays were a harsh reminder of the emptiness inside the ranch style log home.
    Grace drove deeper into the driveway, her dread increasing with the crunch of cinders under the Jeep’s tires. She braked and shut off the engine. It spluttered for a moment before coming to a rest, much like the air in her lungs.
    “Let me check it out first.”
    Keith’s gruff command startled her. She flinched as Keith hefted the scary looking gun he’d purchased from some shady contact in Phoenix.
    Grace hadn’t realized it until now, but that gun meant serious business. Real danger. Ryker could get hurt.
    No. She’d die first before anyone laid a hand on him.
    Her stomach churned, though she hadn’t eaten since Ryker’s disappearance. “Is...is that really necessary?” She gestured to the gun locked in Keith’s grip.
    He shot her a withering glare. “Stay here.”
    Grace could only swallow in reply.
    Keith hopped out of the Jeep, another gun tucked in the waistband of his pants, and made his way to the stone path that led to her front door. He gave her a terse nod and disappeared behind a cluster of pine trees.
    In the stark silence, grisly images of gunshots and blood invaded her mind. She drew a sharp breath against the dizziness that assaulted her. Stop! Just stop!
    She clenched her jaw and forced the horrid visions aside. Ryker was fine. He had to be. In fact, he and Mark were probably inside her house right now. She yanked the key from the ignition and jumped out of the Jeep. Anticipation coursed through her. Please be inside. She fumbled with the lock on the front door, her haste making her fingers clumsy, then burst through the door.
    “Ryker!”
    His name echoed in the empty house. The small living room looked the same as she’d left it: a colorful southwestern fleece blanket wadded up on the bomber brown leather sofa, the cordless phone dumped on the log coffee table.
    Empty. So empty.
    No voices. No laughter.
    Nothing.
    Dead silence engulfed her. She pressed her hand to her mouth, her body swayed. A strong hand cupped her shoulder to steady her.
    “I thought I told you to wait.”
    Heart in her throat, she spun. “Keith.” His name whooshed past her lips. “How did you get in here?”
    Eyebrow raised, he kicked the open door shut with a heavy booted foot in lieu of an answer. A muscle ticked along his tight jaw, a sure indicator that she’d pissed him off.
    Too bad.
    The blinking light from the answering machine caught her eye. She rushed to it and pressed the button, praying for a message from Mark.
    “Grace...It’s me.” Grace’s heart sunk. Not Mark. Becca. Her sister’s tremulous voice invaded the living room. “I...I’m sorry to bother you, but...oh, God, I can’t—,” her breath hitched across the line in a shallow pant, “the walls are closing in on me, Grace, and I—I can’t stop them. Please call me.”
    The answering machine beeped and clicked off, but it wasn’t that easy to sever the connection between Grace and her sister. Fourteen years of Becca’s panic attacks, fourteen years of emotional hand holding and talking her down from the terror that held her in its crushing grip, and Grace still couldn’t find a way to make it right.
    She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the man standing behind her. But Keith was there, larger than life, the elephant in the room, a reminder of the pain they’d endured because of his cruel lies and careless attitude. If Becca knew who Grace was consorting with she’d lose all her respect. The trust she’d worked so hard