Sunday, September 25, 2022
Sunday's Short Stack: Force of Nature Anthology by RJ Scott
Three novels in one anthology from the USA Today Bestselling Author RJ Scott
Seth & Casey
Casey and his class are trapped in the snowstorm of the century. Seth is their only hope.
Alpha Delta
With storms raging in the Norwegian sea, can Finn and Niall rescue each other?
All The Kings Men
After an earthquake destroys LA, will Ryan and Nathan outrun the forest fires?
Re-Read Review February 2019:
I usually save my re-reading for the summer months but considering that we are nearing the end of February, not only February but the snowiest February on record as well as the snowiest month since November 1991 after the Halloween Blizzard that pretty much shut down Wisconsin and Minnesota, I thought what better time to re-visit Seth and Casey?
There isn't much more I can add to my original review other than I'm still conflicting between wanting to bang their heads together and wrap them up in bubblewrap. When it comes down to it though I have to admit I side with Casey. I understand Seth's desire to be who he was, to get back to his life as a firefighter but I've seen too many things with my mom's health issues and my grandfather's battle with MS to really sympathize with his refusal to accept that yes his life is never going to be the same but he is still here. Perhaps had I not grown up watching my mother and grandfather have their lives changed I would be able to support Seth's resistance and I guess we all need to have that "a-ha" moment when everything clicks. In Seth & Casey, RJ Scott uses Mother Nature's wintery wrath to explore that idea and she does it brilliantly.
I guess what I'm saying is that despite not understanding Seth's denial to face facts I absolutely love, love, love this novella which to me in itself speaks more to the author's storytelling talents than anything. This is a win-win filled with frosty dangers that only Mother Nature could create, love that may or may not be enough, and the desire to survive. For those who never experience the kind of snow in this story, count your blessings because the white stuff may look fluffy and conjure up all thoughts of Christmas and magical dancing snowmen but it can be anything but magical and the author's obvious respect for that just makes this story ten times more entertaining.
Original Review January 2018:
When Seth Wild's life as a fireman is at an end due to injury, instead of facing it head on he fights it and in the process he pushes away his rock, his friend, his lover, his husband Casey McQuire. When Casey walks out hoping Seth will see what he needs to face, he finds himself alone with his nephew and 9 of his students stranded during a blizzard. Will Seth get to Casey and the kids in time and more importantly will he realize what he's risking with his refusal to accept the inevitable?
💬Reviewer Note: I have never read the previous version of this novella so I cannot comment on the re-editting and how the two versions differ.💬
Now on to Seth & Casey. Brilliant! I wish I could leave it at that but you know I'll expand because to be honest I could not put this down. I really just want to say that as a Wisconsinite(and no this is not set in Wisconsin) I absolutely love stories where Mother Nature rears her karmatic head. Yeah, I know "karmatic" isn't a real word but this is my review so I'm leaving it in😜 For those who have never experienced a true snow storm, I say "good for you because they can be hell on earth", its a prime example of Mother Nature showing her status in the hierarchy of world domination.
So when I find a book where snow is prevalent than I really pay attention to how the author uses it and whether they give it the respect the white stuff deserves. I don't know how much experience RJ Scott has with snow in the UK but she has clearly done her research and respects its destructive nature. Distance means nothing in whiteout conditions, you can be two feet away from someone or something and have no clue what direction to travel and the author uses this in this novella in multiple cases and for that alone I say "Thank you."
I've mentioned all that about the weather because its more than just a plot device, it truly is a character all on its own. As for the main characters of Seth and Casey, well once again I found myself warring between bundling them in bubblewrap and knocking their heads together. In a short story/novella, especially one that the bulk covers such a short span of time, it can be hard to convey the emotions of the characters, make them believable, and still give the reader an entertaining piece of art. RJ Scott seems to have mastered the knack of doing just that though. Would I like to know more about the boys and their life both before and after the pages of this tale? Of course, because for me when a story is this lovely I never want it to end but in truth, I can't imagine Seth & Casey any different than it is and its a no-brainer that this one will definitely be going into my re-read list.
Alpha Delta
Original Review March 2019:
When Finn Hallan and Niall Faulkner had an instant connection after a conference meeting they knew it was more than just a one night stand but it takes a hostage situation in the middle of Mother Nature's wrath that makes them see how far their feelings have grown. Will they be able to reveal their feelings or have they left it too late?
I originally purchased this novella long ago and when the author re-released a re-edited version, I purchased that too and yet as much of an RJ Scott fan as I am, somehow Alpha Delta went unread. Then when I learned she was releasing this as part of an anthology for her weather setting novellas I knew I had to find Alpha and finally read it. Boy am I glad I did and wondered every minute as I read what took me so long.
💬Now I should mention I only read the re-editted version so I can't speak to the differences in the original and re-release.💬
Finn and Niall are an absolute dream. I've seen some label them as opposites attract and I guess to some extent they are: elite cop and nerdy engineer but when you look past that I found them to be quite similar and definitely perfect for each other. And once again, RJ Scott has shown her respect for Mother Nature, this time in the form of storms in the Norwegian sea.
I know for some people the connection between Finn and Niall is too quick but I don't see it that way and as much as Alpha Delta is a romance novella, I found at the core it was about survival and what we are able to make ourselves do to get through impossible situations. Sure we see Finn and Niall realize what's important when they risk losing it but at its heart, Niall faces certain death in a way he never imagined but he pushes himself to do what he has to and for me that survival instinct is what made Alpha Delta a must read.
All the King's Men
Original Review July 2017:
Reviewer's Side Note: Having never read All the King's Men before I don't know how this re-edited and rewritten version differs from the original. Ryan Ortiz wants a second chance with his ex so he hops on a plane bound for LA. Nathan Richardson's acting career is beginning to bring him happiness and he's moving forward from his ex even if he hasn't really moved on. An Act of God in the form of the biggest earthquake to hit the west coast has occurred but will Fate let Ryan not only save his lover but reunite them in the aftermath?
How in the world have I not read this work of art by one of my favorite author's before now? Growing up in Wisconsin where tornadoes and blizzards could occur just months apart, I never really enjoyed disaster films and certainly did not enjoy reading Act of God/Mother Nature Strikes Back scenarios but as I got older(hey, I'm only 43 so lets say "matured" it sounds younger) I found disaster films to be enjoyable. However, I never really found any books within that genre/trope that didn't classify as sci-fi that piqued my interest. Until now! It's no secret that RJ Scott is one of my favorite authors and that she is also one of only a handful that fall into my "automatic 1-click list" so when I discovered All the King's Men it was a no-brainer that it would grace my Kindle.
I know that Ryan may not be everyone's cup of tea because of the way things ended with Nathan prior to where the book begins but his actions, or lack thereof, did not bother me at all. As in life, sometimes in fiction one has to lose something or someone to realize how much it or they were needed. Which is where Ryan finds himself as he travels westward to reunite with Nathan. I loved his desire to get to Nate especially once he learns about the earthquake. His determination to reach Nate is inspiring and once he reaches him, he stops at nothing to get him to safety.
Okay, I'm going to stop there as far as the plot goes because I don't want to give anymore away. I will just say that in a story such as All the King's Men, there isn't always an overabundance of secondary characters so those that the main characters come across have a lot riding on them that can really test the author's talent for character development and storytelling. Well, RJ Scott has proven once again how amazing she is with these aspects of drama and even though its not a situation that happens every day its certainly something that could happen which only heightens the fear and got my adrenaline pumping with every page. To be completely honest, it made me even more thankful that I live in a region that only faces the destructive forces of tornadoes and blizzards(something I never thought I'd say so thank you, RJ 😉) because earthquakes are not a common occurrence here in Wisconsin. King's Men may not make my yearly re-read list but I will definitely be re-visiting Ryan and Nate more than once.
Seth Wild is a firefighter who has lost everything. Nearly dying in a fire, he is scared and angry and chases away the only good thing in his life—school teacher Casey McGuire.
When a sudden and violent snow storm hits their town he receives a message Casey and ten kids are trapped in an education centre center with no way out. There is no one else who can help, he’s the last fire fighter in town with his bum leg and his icy heart.
He doesn’t hesitate. He always promised he would be Casey’s hero, but will he ever again be Casey’s love?
Alpha Delta
Summary:
Officer Finn Hallan has never run from a fight. With Niall’s life and love at stake, he’s not about to start now.
N.B. Originally published with All Romance, this edition features the same story with new cover art
Finn Hallan is a member of the elite Norwegian Emergency Response Unit, code name Delta. When the team is sent to respond to a hostage situation on an Oil Platform, he has to face demons he thought he had buried a long time ago.
Scottish engineer Niall Faulkner’s skills in oil platform decommissioning takes him to the Forseti platform at the worst possible time. When he’s captured by terrorists, his only thought is that he will never get to tell his lover how he really feels.
Can Finn keep Niall alive? Or will they both die at the hands of hijackers in the frigid waters of the Norwegian sea?
Summary:
Originally published in 2011. Re-edited and rewritten with added chapters and amended epilogue.
* * * * *
When Ryan Ortiz decides to go direct to LA to fight for a second chance with his lover Nathan Richardson he is caught up in the biggest earthquake to hit the city since records began.
LA is destroyed, burning, people homeless, and fires are ignited high in the LA hills above Nathan's apartment. Nathan is trapped and Ryan is his only hope.
It is a race against time and the powerful all consuming destruction of nature for Ryan to find Nathan, trapped in the ruins of his home in the hills, and to get both of them to help before the fire reaches them.
Seth & Casey
“…New York's LaGuardia and JFK International airports officially closed on Thursday afternoon due to the storm, according to the FAA. Both airports had been open earlier despite significant flight cancellations. LaGuardia resumed operations around 7 p.m. ET, while JFK said it planned to reopen sometime during the course of the night.”
Casey McGuire rinsed the last of the mugs and placed it on the drainer with the rest. For some reason, it was always mugs they ran out of in this house. Seth had this idea that the dishwasher ate them but Casey was convinced that they just needed a system to make sure they brought all the mugs back to the kitchen when they were done. Last week he’d found a mug in the bathroom, inside the cabinet, full of cold coffee.
Seth had sworn it wasn’t him, but Casey knew it had been.
He didn’t make a fuss. After all, what was one full coffee mug teetering on the edge of a glass shelf? In the grand scheme of things, it meant nothing.
The TV droned on behind him as he took a dishcloth and wiped the first of the mugs.
“…states from South Carolina to Maine are under a winter storm warning and the governors of Georgia, North Carolina, Virginia, New Jersey and New York have declared states of emergency. Forecasters say the northeast states can expect hurricane-force wind gusts and blinding snow…”
The news channels had been warning about this storm for a week, a huge dump of snow that would cripple the eastern seaboard, but that as yet hadn’t caused much concern here in Vermont. Casey glanced out of the window at the yard and wished for more snow. That way maybe Seth wouldn’t be able to leave the house, and possibly the two of them could have a rational conversation that didn’t end with Seth leaving and Casey wondering where the hell he was going wrong.
“…the situation is “ugly” and “dangerous,” and people should stay indoors…”
Last night, all Casey had said was that Seth shouldn’t forget about his appointment next morning. Seth left the house, clambering back into bed at some ungodly hour, reeking of beer or worse. In his sleep, Seth tried to pull Casey close, but Casey had deliberately scooted up and away, and left his husband in the bed.
Today, at ten, Seth had exploded, accusing Casey of meddling in things he didn’t understand, telling Casey he was fine and didn’t need a shrink.
Yet another night when one of them ended up on the couch.
“Hey.”
Casey stiffened at Seth’s soft, gravelly voice. His chest was tight, he didn’t want to argue. He wanted Seth to admit there was a problem, because he couldn’t handle it anymore. Six months of this had taken its toll. Maybe if Seth had seen the specialists when he should’ve, maybe if he’d seen a counselor, then Casey would see he was trying.
Seth was in denial, and it was destroying their marriage.
He didn’t turn to face Seth; he’d made a decision in the early morning, packed a bag with what he could get without waking Seth, and decided they needed space. If Seth had space he might face up to himself instead of taking it out on Casey.
Seth slid his hands around Casey’s waist, resting his chin on Casey’s shoulder and sighed. He’d brushed his teeth so the only scent was peppermint, which at least was a step up from yesterday when he’d attempted a clumsy kiss with beer still on his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured near Casey’s ear.
Casey could turn now, accept the apology, even offer one of his own for pushing Seth, and everything would be normal for a while. Seth could go back to pretending he was okay, and Casey could go back to walking on eggshells and avoiding conflict.
But what kind of a marriage was that?
What kind of a man did that make Casey?
“I know you are,” he said. Then he tensed because that wasn’t the answer Seth wanted, and Casey knew what would happen next. Seth would go straight onto defensive mode, give some bullshit about how he was a firefighter and didn’t need a counselor.
Meanwhile, Seth not accepting any of what he needed was tearing their marriage apart. Casey had been careful with him for a long time, after all, Seth had nearly died. But when months had passed and he was still refusing to listen to reason, that was when Casey realized he’d been wrong in accepting Seth’s view on what kind of healing he needed.
“I think we need some time apart,” Casey said, and placed the dried mug onto the counter. He eased away from Seth’s hold and moved to the other side of the kitchen table. Somehow, having it between them gave Casey the strength to do what he’d decided was the right thing. Seth had this way of holding him, with a near desperation that never failed to have Casey crumbling.
Seth didn’t answer at first. Casey stopped himself from repeating the words and hoped that Seth was just thinking. The only noise in the kitchen was the news, focusing on Greyhound buses and the routes being cancelled.
“Why?”
Alpha Delta
“I don’t really do this.” Niall waved between them.
“Have sex?”
“…New York's LaGuardia and JFK International airports officially closed on Thursday afternoon due to the storm, according to the FAA. Both airports had been open earlier despite significant flight cancellations. LaGuardia resumed operations around 7 p.m. ET, while JFK said it planned to reopen sometime during the course of the night.”
Casey McGuire rinsed the last of the mugs and placed it on the drainer with the rest. For some reason, it was always mugs they ran out of in this house. Seth had this idea that the dishwasher ate them but Casey was convinced that they just needed a system to make sure they brought all the mugs back to the kitchen when they were done. Last week he’d found a mug in the bathroom, inside the cabinet, full of cold coffee.
Seth had sworn it wasn’t him, but Casey knew it had been.
He didn’t make a fuss. After all, what was one full coffee mug teetering on the edge of a glass shelf? In the grand scheme of things, it meant nothing.
The TV droned on behind him as he took a dishcloth and wiped the first of the mugs.
“…states from South Carolina to Maine are under a winter storm warning and the governors of Georgia, North Carolina, Virginia, New Jersey and New York have declared states of emergency. Forecasters say the northeast states can expect hurricane-force wind gusts and blinding snow…”
The news channels had been warning about this storm for a week, a huge dump of snow that would cripple the eastern seaboard, but that as yet hadn’t caused much concern here in Vermont. Casey glanced out of the window at the yard and wished for more snow. That way maybe Seth wouldn’t be able to leave the house, and possibly the two of them could have a rational conversation that didn’t end with Seth leaving and Casey wondering where the hell he was going wrong.
“…the situation is “ugly” and “dangerous,” and people should stay indoors…”
Last night, all Casey had said was that Seth shouldn’t forget about his appointment next morning. Seth left the house, clambering back into bed at some ungodly hour, reeking of beer or worse. In his sleep, Seth tried to pull Casey close, but Casey had deliberately scooted up and away, and left his husband in the bed.
Today, at ten, Seth had exploded, accusing Casey of meddling in things he didn’t understand, telling Casey he was fine and didn’t need a shrink.
Yet another night when one of them ended up on the couch.
“Hey.”
Casey stiffened at Seth’s soft, gravelly voice. His chest was tight, he didn’t want to argue. He wanted Seth to admit there was a problem, because he couldn’t handle it anymore. Six months of this had taken its toll. Maybe if Seth had seen the specialists when he should’ve, maybe if he’d seen a counselor, then Casey would see he was trying.
Seth was in denial, and it was destroying their marriage.
He didn’t turn to face Seth; he’d made a decision in the early morning, packed a bag with what he could get without waking Seth, and decided they needed space. If Seth had space he might face up to himself instead of taking it out on Casey.
Seth slid his hands around Casey’s waist, resting his chin on Casey’s shoulder and sighed. He’d brushed his teeth so the only scent was peppermint, which at least was a step up from yesterday when he’d attempted a clumsy kiss with beer still on his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured near Casey’s ear.
Casey could turn now, accept the apology, even offer one of his own for pushing Seth, and everything would be normal for a while. Seth could go back to pretending he was okay, and Casey could go back to walking on eggshells and avoiding conflict.
But what kind of a marriage was that?
What kind of a man did that make Casey?
“I know you are,” he said. Then he tensed because that wasn’t the answer Seth wanted, and Casey knew what would happen next. Seth would go straight onto defensive mode, give some bullshit about how he was a firefighter and didn’t need a counselor.
Meanwhile, Seth not accepting any of what he needed was tearing their marriage apart. Casey had been careful with him for a long time, after all, Seth had nearly died. But when months had passed and he was still refusing to listen to reason, that was when Casey realized he’d been wrong in accepting Seth’s view on what kind of healing he needed.
“I think we need some time apart,” Casey said, and placed the dried mug onto the counter. He eased away from Seth’s hold and moved to the other side of the kitchen table. Somehow, having it between them gave Casey the strength to do what he’d decided was the right thing. Seth had this way of holding him, with a near desperation that never failed to have Casey crumbling.
Seth didn’t answer at first. Casey stopped himself from repeating the words and hoped that Seth was just thinking. The only noise in the kitchen was the news, focusing on Greyhound buses and the routes being cancelled.
“Why?”
Alpha Delta
“I don’t really do this.” Niall waved between them.
“Have sex?”
“Have one-night stands.”
Finn stepped in his space again, and this time, with the desk at his back Niall had nowhere to move. Then Finn did something that had Niall near melting into a puddle. The damned cop cradled his face gently.
“Who said anything about one night?” He tilted Niall’s face and leaned down at the same time. With his hands cradling Niall, he kissed him. The kiss was firm but not pushy. There was none of the shit that happened in clubs whenever Ewan managed to drag Niall to one. Seemed like all that happened there was tongues and teeth and a whole lot of demands. This was…
Different.
Finn touched his lips with tongue, pressing inside. With a whimper that Niall hoped to hell was just in his own head, he opened his mouth and tentatively matched the movements. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he leave them at his sides, or could he touch…? He rested them on Finn’s biceps but couldn’t stop with that touch, instead locking his hands at the base of Finn’s spine and pulling him closer. They kissed that way for the longest time, Niall so hard it was painful.
Finn moved one of his hands from Niall’s face and trailed his fingers down Niall’s back, finally coming to a rest on his ass, pressing and lifting so that Finn was near on tiptoe. If they didn’t do something soon, release the pressure, if he couldn’t undo his pants, then he might do serious damage to his cock.
As if he’d somehow telegraphed the message, Finn’s hand moved and this time it was to slip under the top button of Niall’s pants. He lowered the zipper, finally pushing his fingers into Niall’s jersey boxers and closing around Niall’s hard cock. Niall pulled back sharply from the kiss and cursed loudly. All Finn did was chuckle, the bastard, then guide Finn back for more kissing while twisting his fingers and tugging on Niall. Niall could stand like this until he came, held up just with the desk at his thighs and Finn holding him upright, but he wanted his hands on Finn and he wanted it now.
Copying Finn’s movements he loosened the tight buttons on Finn’s jeans and finally managed to get his hands inside Niall’s pants. Just the feel of his hands on Niall was enough to have him deepening the kiss, more frantic in his need to taste Finn. Then Finn released his hold of Niall’s cock but before Niall could complain Finn yanked at Niall’s hand on him, releasing the hold, then lifted him, hands under his ass, and carried him the short distance to the bed.
All the King's Men
Finn stepped in his space again, and this time, with the desk at his back Niall had nowhere to move. Then Finn did something that had Niall near melting into a puddle. The damned cop cradled his face gently.
“Who said anything about one night?” He tilted Niall’s face and leaned down at the same time. With his hands cradling Niall, he kissed him. The kiss was firm but not pushy. There was none of the shit that happened in clubs whenever Ewan managed to drag Niall to one. Seemed like all that happened there was tongues and teeth and a whole lot of demands. This was…
Different.
Finn touched his lips with tongue, pressing inside. With a whimper that Niall hoped to hell was just in his own head, he opened his mouth and tentatively matched the movements. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he leave them at his sides, or could he touch…? He rested them on Finn’s biceps but couldn’t stop with that touch, instead locking his hands at the base of Finn’s spine and pulling him closer. They kissed that way for the longest time, Niall so hard it was painful.
Finn moved one of his hands from Niall’s face and trailed his fingers down Niall’s back, finally coming to a rest on his ass, pressing and lifting so that Finn was near on tiptoe. If they didn’t do something soon, release the pressure, if he couldn’t undo his pants, then he might do serious damage to his cock.
As if he’d somehow telegraphed the message, Finn’s hand moved and this time it was to slip under the top button of Niall’s pants. He lowered the zipper, finally pushing his fingers into Niall’s jersey boxers and closing around Niall’s hard cock. Niall pulled back sharply from the kiss and cursed loudly. All Finn did was chuckle, the bastard, then guide Finn back for more kissing while twisting his fingers and tugging on Niall. Niall could stand like this until he came, held up just with the desk at his thighs and Finn holding him upright, but he wanted his hands on Finn and he wanted it now.
Copying Finn’s movements he loosened the tight buttons on Finn’s jeans and finally managed to get his hands inside Niall’s pants. Just the feel of his hands on Niall was enough to have him deepening the kiss, more frantic in his need to taste Finn. Then Finn released his hold of Niall’s cock but before Niall could complain Finn yanked at Niall’s hand on him, releasing the hold, then lifted him, hands under his ass, and carried him the short distance to the bed.
Prologue
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again!
California is one of America’s most earthquake-prone states.
The boundary between the massive Pacific and North American tectonic plates, the notorious San Andreas Fault, runs roughly southeast to northwest through much of California. In addition, a jumble of lesser transverse faults clutters the map of the state.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again!
* * * * *
California is one of America’s most earthquake-prone states.
The boundary between the massive Pacific and North American tectonic plates, the notorious San Andreas Fault, runs roughly southeast to northwest through much of California. In addition, a jumble of lesser transverse faults clutters the map of the state.
Sides of the San Andreas Fault move in the opposite direction, but at different speeds, causing geologic tension to build. That tension is released in the form of an earthquake. The possibility is always present for associated earthquakes among the nearby transform faults.
The U.S. Geological Survey says the state faces a forty-six percent chance of being hit by a Richter Scale magnitude 7.5 or higher earthquake in the next thirty years.
Possibly even today.
Chapter 1
The U.S. Geological Survey says the state faces a forty-six percent chance of being hit by a Richter Scale magnitude 7.5 or higher earthquake in the next thirty years.
Possibly even today.
Chapter 1
Thursday 6:52 a.m.
I’m coming to you… Early morning flight to LAX… I don’t want to play phone tag anymore… I just want to see you face to face and talk… I miss you, Nate… I’m sorry… I love you.
Nathan Richardson leaned against the park gates and pocketed his cell after listening to his lover’s voicemail for what must be at least the twentieth time. The message was emotional and Ryan’s voice was choked as he spoke. Still, in the few words Nathan heard he got the message. He and Ryan needed to do one hell of a lot of talking.
They’d been together two years, Ryan a photographer and Nathan his model. It was the worst cliché ever and surely destined to fail. But not them. They were in love and going strong. Nathan wanted forever, commitment, a place they owned together, hell, even a ring. Ryan, older than Nathan by five years, had too many breakups under his belt to think that a happy ever after was even possible.
When Nathan was offered a part in a small independent movie, it had been the beginning of the end. Nathan had used modeling to finance acting classes and he jumped at the chance to join the cast of an independent gay film with a contract for two months’ work and an audition for a soap as a new love interest in some kind of triangle.
Nathan expected Ryan to protest—for his lover to tell Nathan he couldn’t live without him and not to go. Instead Ryan grew quieter by the day and merely encouraged Nathan to take the role. Nathan could see what was happening—Ryan was subtly saying he didn’t want a forever kind of thing anyway. Ryan was ending their love affair while he had the chance to be in control of how it ended. They didn’t fight. They drifted apart and Nathan let it happen.
That had been two months ago.
Two days ago Ryan had texted him. I miss you. So much.
Nathan didn’t know what to type in return. Ryan wasn’t exactly offering endless love and a ring. But when Nathan read those few words he knew getting over Ryan was unachievable. He loved the man, and always would. His friend Jason wanted him to move on. He could no more move on from Ryan than he could turn straight.
Ryan was the other half of him.
I love you, Nathan sent in reply.
I want forever, Ryan texted back.
I can go for that, Nathan replied quickly.
I can get a flight. Unspoken was asking if Ryan could visit Nathan.
Please.
Despite staring at the screen for an hour, there were no more messages.
Then the voicemail came when Nathan was on his run. Heartfelt and perfect. The two of them could make this real. Not long and his lover would be here, then they could clear the air and maybe he and Ryan could find a way to move on.
Ryan Ortiz said he was ready for forever and Nathan wanted that so badly.
He had run here, the opposite side of the US, to give Ryan time to think about what he felt and what he wanted. It had killed him not to be calling Ryan every day, but Nathan knew Ryan and knew his best bet was to not pressure his lover. His gaze passed over where he now lived, a place so very different from his and Ryan’s former home in the chaos and noise of New York.
A small complex of four apartments, quiet and remote, the peace and solitude suited his frame of mind perfectly. He lived in this two-bedroom apartment in the hills beyond LA, rented from an absentee landlord, and had made it his own with photos of family and even one of him and Ryan in happier times. As much as he wished he could, he hadn’t been able to cut Ryan out of his thoughts, or his life.
He stood in the roughhewn park carved out across the road from his home and looked away from his sanctuary to the nature that surrounded him. The park itself was a jumble of trees and rocks, grass and pathways, some steeply climbing higher into the hills, some gently curving and ideal for his attempted runs. The nearest main road was a quarter-mile away, and most people drove past the entrance to the small complex without realizing the road led to people’s homes.
Jason and his girlfriend had put an offer on one of the two empty apartments. Having his best friend in LA living next door was a good thing. He needed that connection if he couldn’t have Ryan in his life on a permanent basis. Although…maybe…somehow he and Ryan could make it work?
Nathan smiled as a cloud of birds rose gracefully from the oak at the edge of the park, heading skyward at an incredible speed. He loved that he was so close to the peace of nature, and the sight of the birds was both eerie and fascinating. He couldn’t stop looking at it, wishing he had his camera with him, cursing at another amazing photo opportunity lost.
Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to share what he’d seen with Ryan.
Thursday 6:59 am
Ryan Ortiz sat forward in the cab as they rounded a corner. He was desperate to get his Nathan into his arms where Ryan could hold him and tell him that he loved him. The cab was moving too slowly and all the driver wanted to do was talk to him.
“What brings you to LA?”
“My boyfriend lives here.” Nathan.
“So you’re not a resident?”
“No, I’m here from New York, just for a few days.” Hopefully longer if Nathan will take me back.
The questions continued to come. What did he think of the spate of forest fires in the LA hills? Did he think that Lindsay Lohan was for real? Did he have pets? Was he married? Did he want to get married? Was he fighting for equal rights? For the most part, Ryan managed to keep up until he realized that the driver wasn’t actually listening to his answers, and so he was able to subside to a new level of tired grunts in answer to each new question. Still dazed from his early morning flight from New York, his mind limped through thought and memory, attempting to make order out of chaos. The views from the taxi, the vista of the city laid out through the misty smog, were gorgeous, and he itched for his camera. It was a very strange feeling not to have it with him, but the rush to get here, to see Nathan, had precluded organizing his extensive camera equipment. It was the first time in his memory he’d gone anywhere without at least one camera.
He missed taking photos of Nate. His gorgeous lover had started as his model for Style and hell, Ryan loved every minute of seeing Nate through the viewfinder. They’d slipped into a relationship, a fiery, intense love affair. Then his beautiful lover had revealed he wanted to try acting and even had a role lined up. Although when that had happened Ryan didn’t know, as Nathan hadn’t told him a thing.
“It’s such a cliché,” Ryan told him. “Model turned actor.”
He was only teasing but Nathan took him so seriously. “It’s just a dream of mine, and I’m lucky they let me try for it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had done this?”
“I thought they’d laugh me out of the door, I never imagined they’d say yes.”
Ryan had pulled Nathan into a hug. “I’m proud of you, babe,” he said firmly. Of course, inside he’d faced the finality that he was losing Nathan. No point in a future when they were separated on opposite sides of the US, and he certainly wasn’t going to hold Nathan back. It had been easier for Ryan to assume they were ending with Nathan’s move to LA.
Ultimately Nathan left his position with Style and moved permanently to LA, embracing his burgeoning acting career. The arguments increased at the same rate as the distance between them. Ryan had always been the one who picked the fights. Fucking idiot. Ryan fought insecurity and jealousy and the only way he could do that was to pretend Nathan leaving for a new career meant nothing to him.
Nathan got the role in the TV series, up and away from his independent film part, starting with a six-month contract. His picture was emblazoned on page twenty-nine of a teen magazine that Ryan’s assistant left on his desk. The photo was one of Ryan’s, and it was one of his favorites. Nathan, beautiful, shirtless, his lean body stretched with catlike grace, leaning back on his elbows. His jeans were pushed down and his hipbones teased at what was hidden. He was pictured gazing away from the camera thoughtfully, his soft dark hair in disarray around his face. The lighting had been faultless, each coppery highlight in Nathan’s hair picked out in detail. The photo was simply perfect.
They had gone home after that shoot and made love and it was the moment Ryan knew he was head over heels for Nathan. They’d exchanged I love you’s and Nathan began to make plans for a future together, a house outside the city maybe, adoption, hell, the whole family thing. Ryan wasn’t sure he was capable of all that, but he’d nodded and listened. Then he saw the damn photo again and he knew at that moment he should never have let his fears stop him from believing in what they had.
Ryan didn’t hesitate when he saw that photo. He loved Nathan and they had been apart too long. Sure there was a relationship to save, he texted Nathan and Nathan had answered. Ryan impulsively booked a flight immediately—the first flight he could get to LA. He called Nathan from the airport and left a voicemail when Nathan didn’t answer. Now he sat in the taxi as the driver steered it up into the hills. He needed to push aside his insecurities, drop to his knees, and beg forgiveness of the one person who made him whole. He hoped he wasn’t too late.
7:12 a.m.
After his pathetic, half-hearted stumble-run, Nathan decided he needed to get indoors and get a shower. He wasn’t sure what time Ryan would get here but Nathan wanted to be at least halfway decent when he did.
He couldn’t help the excitement that flooded him. He really wanted to see if maybe his ex-lover would want to find some kind of resolution. Maybe they could agree to split their time between the two cities?
He was just inside the main door when the floor beneath his feet moved, subtly the first time, slowly, a groaning, a creaking, and a soft shaking. The ground shift left him holding the doorframe. It only lasted a few seconds and was over before he could force a thought about it through the rest of the clutter in his mind. The checklist in his head clicked in automatically before the shaking had stopped. He smiled briefly. That earth movement would be dominating the news today. Hey, maybe today was a good day for him to walk proudly out of the closet! Surely revealing his sexual preferences would never be more newsworthy than an earthquake in Tinseltown.
He thumbed to the number of his brother out of state and hit Send. The phone at the other end rang once, twice, a third time, and voicemail kicked in. He decided not to leave a message. No one really needed to know that a minor shock had hit his apartment in the hills above LA. The trembler hadn’t been strong enough to be worthy of hitting the news anywhere outside of California. Nathan had just been trying to be a good citizen, letting a family member know like the government said he should. He made a mental note to charge the damn cell when he finished his shower.
Seconds later, just as Nathan pocketed his cell, the earth around him ripped apart with such savagery that it was impossible to stand upright. Nathan scrabbled to hold the side of the doorframe, trying to find his feet. His vision blurred as dust and concrete fell about his head, knocking him to the ground. Before the shaking stopped, before the ceiling joists cascaded down and trapped his legs, he slammed into unconsciousness.
Chapter 2
They were about ten minutes away from Nathan’s apartment when the pre-shock hit. The driver cursed as the car skittered sideways, and Ryan grabbed on to the door and his belt in confusion.
“What the hell?”
“S’okay, just a small one. We get them all the time out here.”
Ryan knew what he meant. Earthquake. He’d never really experienced an earthquake before and it had felt weird, like the whole of the earth beneath the car had slid sideways, stones and loose gravel from the hills above them dropping onto the car in a crashing, rattling rain.
Ryan peered out the window at the sweeping vista of LA sleeping below him, wondering how many people woke up to the sound that was like distant thunder and to the shaking of the earth. The car had skidded to the edge of the road, and he shot a quick glance down the slope, thanking God that it hadn’t been a major quake. Smiling ruefully, he sat back in the seat as the driver pulled away and angled back onto his side of the road.
A breath-stealing jolt yanked him from his musings.
The car was moving; no, the hill was moving…shuddering and falling…pushing the hapless car ahead of it. The rocks, vegetation…the sky tumbled. The car neared the edge, the driver shouting hysterically as it tilted sideways, large chunks of hillside falling to dent the car, beat at the car, push the car to the edge, to the drop, to the shaking and dancing of the moving earth.
Ryan clung with both hands to the grab handle over the cab’s door and jerked at every noise, every motion. This wasn’t good, not good at all. He stared out, snatching a quick look down at LA, and what he saw was burned into his mind. Explosions. He thought he saw buildings shattering and imploding, but that had to be his imagination. What the fuck is happening?
The car ceased its crazy ride and, for one second, remained poised on the edge, overhanging the drop. Then a final shove of moving dirt sent it careening, tumbling down the rise.
The car lodged against a natural outcrop and came to a sudden and bone-crunching stop, the thunder and passion of the earthquake still warring around it, the hill subsiding, plummeting, and falling in a haphazard storm of rocks and debris. The seatbelt saved Ryan’s life. It stopped him from being thrown from the car and crushed under it as it rolled and slid, but it also ultimately trapped him inside the vehicle as the chassis twisted and buckled against the onslaught of the hillside. All too soon the noises around him started to slow, and he was left in the dark surrounded by dust and earth, his eyes burning with fumes. He needed to get out of the taxi now.
With a powerful resolution born of a desire to live, he heaved himself out of the belt and pushed at the door with his booted feet, tumbling out as it burst open. He crab-walked away from the compacted car, his eyes taking in what was essentially half a car. The front had been flattened and the driver crushed.
He was trapped in a nightmare. The remains of the cab perched precariously on a bed of dirt and rocks of all sizes. Flames licked up leaking fuel, eating at the crushed metal. Ryan knew he could do nothing for the driver. He was gone…crushed…dead…fuck.
Stumbling to his feet, he clutched at his forehead, pulling his hand away and staring in a shocked stupor at the blood. A head injury. Crap.
The car groaned as the metal heated. Half out of his mind with horror and dread, believing the car would explode, he twisted and scrambled his way up over the remains of the road, feeling the heat on his back as the fire continued to eat away at the mutilated car. The cab wasn’t the only car destroyed. One that had been ahead of them lay crushed so badly no one could have escaped. Another vehicle that they’d passed on the freeway had plowed into an embankment and burst into flames. All of the vehicles had been tossed around like toys in the hands of Nature.
Finally he crashed to his knees, his back to the view below. There was nothing he could do for anyone in any vehicle here, and his gaze focused on what was left of the road. Reluctantly, spurred by horrified fascination and the need to face what had happened, Ryan pushed himself to his feet and turned slowly. Shielding his eyes with his hand and coughing, he faced the nightmare vista of LA laid out before him. Fire. He could see fire, drifts of dark gray smoke, and clouds of dust. Debris. The ground still stirred uneasily beneath his feet. This was a living disaster movie, surreal, unbelievable. LA was unrecognizable. Everything had gone eerily silent where he stood above the rage of the distant fires and destruction, the motion of the earth around him having finally faded.
The taxi burned brightly, and he shuddered at the thought of the dead driver. Ryan didn’t want to think about a world where death could be a blessing. He could have been trapped in that car, trapped in the flames. Fire: his worst fear, his nightmare.
Living, breathing fire tracked steadily on its way up the hillside following a dirty trail of oil and fuel that speeded its path. He really needed to move and now, but for a second, he stopped, dazed, still watching LA shattered by the ground on which it had risen. Jesus, this looks worse than the Northridge quake of ’94. He recalled a spread in National Geographic that said the quake had only lasted thirty seconds, but he remembered it killed about sixty people and injured several thousand. Images of collapsed freeways and fires flashed across his thoughts, quick jumbled images of death and destruction. This looked bad, and this wasn’t just a small part of the city. The entire LA downtown looked to be destroyed.
Below him lay LA, and around him, but not too near, he heard sirens and smelled smoke. Nathan was somewhere above him, perhaps hit as hard as he’d been. Maybe he was trapped, possibly dead—Ryan froze and refused to think of the worst scenario any more.
Should he try to contact someone? Who? Emergency services? If the situation hadn’t been so horrendous, Ryan might have laughed at the stupidity of his thought. There was no one else that could be right here and now; Nathan had him and him alone to depend upon.
He checked his pocket. Fuck, his cell was in the car, along with a hastily packed flight bag.
Tensing his muscles one by one, he tested for injuries. Each limb seemed bruised but worked. He was relatively uninjured, and nothing appeared broken. His breathing had become easy and regular. He thanked the heavens for the fact that he went running every day and was fit. Picking his way carefully, he started up the hill. Climbing over piles of stone and tossed trees and foliage, he managed to trace parts of the broken road, breaking into a run when he could. He’d been running for ten minutes when he came to an abrupt stop.
“Holy shit.”
Mother Nature had destroyed all that Ryan knew as right and normal. The road twisted in on itself, decimated and ripped apart. It was difficult to see where he needed to scramble but as long as he moved uphill, he was going in the right direction. He imagined he was just over two miles from Nathan’s apartment, in normal circumstances about twenty minutes at a steady uphill run. Over the unsettled wasteland he traversed, he knew the trip would last much longer.
Nathan could be hurt up there. Over the next rise could be total devastation. Ryan quickened his jog, his heart pounding as he jumped and climbed the fallen hillside. He didn’t pass any other cars that had signs of life in them, just burned, twisted wreckage and bodies he couldn’t stand to look at.
As he topped the last hill, to the place where Nathan’s complex had sat, he stopped, horrified. The last time he’d been here, when Nathan first came to LA, the whole area was beautiful—landscaped and artistic design nestled into the hills. But now…
He gaped at a scene that looked like something out of a war movie. Everything was flat. Half the mountain had crushed the private entrance. The gates and what had been the parking area were torn in two.
“Fuck.”
I’m coming to you… Early morning flight to LAX… I don’t want to play phone tag anymore… I just want to see you face to face and talk… I miss you, Nate… I’m sorry… I love you.
Nathan Richardson leaned against the park gates and pocketed his cell after listening to his lover’s voicemail for what must be at least the twentieth time. The message was emotional and Ryan’s voice was choked as he spoke. Still, in the few words Nathan heard he got the message. He and Ryan needed to do one hell of a lot of talking.
They’d been together two years, Ryan a photographer and Nathan his model. It was the worst cliché ever and surely destined to fail. But not them. They were in love and going strong. Nathan wanted forever, commitment, a place they owned together, hell, even a ring. Ryan, older than Nathan by five years, had too many breakups under his belt to think that a happy ever after was even possible.
When Nathan was offered a part in a small independent movie, it had been the beginning of the end. Nathan had used modeling to finance acting classes and he jumped at the chance to join the cast of an independent gay film with a contract for two months’ work and an audition for a soap as a new love interest in some kind of triangle.
Nathan expected Ryan to protest—for his lover to tell Nathan he couldn’t live without him and not to go. Instead Ryan grew quieter by the day and merely encouraged Nathan to take the role. Nathan could see what was happening—Ryan was subtly saying he didn’t want a forever kind of thing anyway. Ryan was ending their love affair while he had the chance to be in control of how it ended. They didn’t fight. They drifted apart and Nathan let it happen.
That had been two months ago.
Two days ago Ryan had texted him. I miss you. So much.
Nathan didn’t know what to type in return. Ryan wasn’t exactly offering endless love and a ring. But when Nathan read those few words he knew getting over Ryan was unachievable. He loved the man, and always would. His friend Jason wanted him to move on. He could no more move on from Ryan than he could turn straight.
Ryan was the other half of him.
I love you, Nathan sent in reply.
I want forever, Ryan texted back.
I can go for that, Nathan replied quickly.
I can get a flight. Unspoken was asking if Ryan could visit Nathan.
Please.
Despite staring at the screen for an hour, there were no more messages.
Then the voicemail came when Nathan was on his run. Heartfelt and perfect. The two of them could make this real. Not long and his lover would be here, then they could clear the air and maybe he and Ryan could find a way to move on.
Ryan Ortiz said he was ready for forever and Nathan wanted that so badly.
He had run here, the opposite side of the US, to give Ryan time to think about what he felt and what he wanted. It had killed him not to be calling Ryan every day, but Nathan knew Ryan and knew his best bet was to not pressure his lover. His gaze passed over where he now lived, a place so very different from his and Ryan’s former home in the chaos and noise of New York.
A small complex of four apartments, quiet and remote, the peace and solitude suited his frame of mind perfectly. He lived in this two-bedroom apartment in the hills beyond LA, rented from an absentee landlord, and had made it his own with photos of family and even one of him and Ryan in happier times. As much as he wished he could, he hadn’t been able to cut Ryan out of his thoughts, or his life.
He stood in the roughhewn park carved out across the road from his home and looked away from his sanctuary to the nature that surrounded him. The park itself was a jumble of trees and rocks, grass and pathways, some steeply climbing higher into the hills, some gently curving and ideal for his attempted runs. The nearest main road was a quarter-mile away, and most people drove past the entrance to the small complex without realizing the road led to people’s homes.
Jason and his girlfriend had put an offer on one of the two empty apartments. Having his best friend in LA living next door was a good thing. He needed that connection if he couldn’t have Ryan in his life on a permanent basis. Although…maybe…somehow he and Ryan could make it work?
Nathan smiled as a cloud of birds rose gracefully from the oak at the edge of the park, heading skyward at an incredible speed. He loved that he was so close to the peace of nature, and the sight of the birds was both eerie and fascinating. He couldn’t stop looking at it, wishing he had his camera with him, cursing at another amazing photo opportunity lost.
Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to share what he’d seen with Ryan.
* * * * *
Thursday 6:59 am
Ryan Ortiz sat forward in the cab as they rounded a corner. He was desperate to get his Nathan into his arms where Ryan could hold him and tell him that he loved him. The cab was moving too slowly and all the driver wanted to do was talk to him.
“What brings you to LA?”
“My boyfriend lives here.” Nathan.
“So you’re not a resident?”
“No, I’m here from New York, just for a few days.” Hopefully longer if Nathan will take me back.
The questions continued to come. What did he think of the spate of forest fires in the LA hills? Did he think that Lindsay Lohan was for real? Did he have pets? Was he married? Did he want to get married? Was he fighting for equal rights? For the most part, Ryan managed to keep up until he realized that the driver wasn’t actually listening to his answers, and so he was able to subside to a new level of tired grunts in answer to each new question. Still dazed from his early morning flight from New York, his mind limped through thought and memory, attempting to make order out of chaos. The views from the taxi, the vista of the city laid out through the misty smog, were gorgeous, and he itched for his camera. It was a very strange feeling not to have it with him, but the rush to get here, to see Nathan, had precluded organizing his extensive camera equipment. It was the first time in his memory he’d gone anywhere without at least one camera.
He missed taking photos of Nate. His gorgeous lover had started as his model for Style and hell, Ryan loved every minute of seeing Nate through the viewfinder. They’d slipped into a relationship, a fiery, intense love affair. Then his beautiful lover had revealed he wanted to try acting and even had a role lined up. Although when that had happened Ryan didn’t know, as Nathan hadn’t told him a thing.
“It’s such a cliché,” Ryan told him. “Model turned actor.”
He was only teasing but Nathan took him so seriously. “It’s just a dream of mine, and I’m lucky they let me try for it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had done this?”
“I thought they’d laugh me out of the door, I never imagined they’d say yes.”
Ryan had pulled Nathan into a hug. “I’m proud of you, babe,” he said firmly. Of course, inside he’d faced the finality that he was losing Nathan. No point in a future when they were separated on opposite sides of the US, and he certainly wasn’t going to hold Nathan back. It had been easier for Ryan to assume they were ending with Nathan’s move to LA.
Ultimately Nathan left his position with Style and moved permanently to LA, embracing his burgeoning acting career. The arguments increased at the same rate as the distance between them. Ryan had always been the one who picked the fights. Fucking idiot. Ryan fought insecurity and jealousy and the only way he could do that was to pretend Nathan leaving for a new career meant nothing to him.
Nathan got the role in the TV series, up and away from his independent film part, starting with a six-month contract. His picture was emblazoned on page twenty-nine of a teen magazine that Ryan’s assistant left on his desk. The photo was one of Ryan’s, and it was one of his favorites. Nathan, beautiful, shirtless, his lean body stretched with catlike grace, leaning back on his elbows. His jeans were pushed down and his hipbones teased at what was hidden. He was pictured gazing away from the camera thoughtfully, his soft dark hair in disarray around his face. The lighting had been faultless, each coppery highlight in Nathan’s hair picked out in detail. The photo was simply perfect.
They had gone home after that shoot and made love and it was the moment Ryan knew he was head over heels for Nathan. They’d exchanged I love you’s and Nathan began to make plans for a future together, a house outside the city maybe, adoption, hell, the whole family thing. Ryan wasn’t sure he was capable of all that, but he’d nodded and listened. Then he saw the damn photo again and he knew at that moment he should never have let his fears stop him from believing in what they had.
Ryan didn’t hesitate when he saw that photo. He loved Nathan and they had been apart too long. Sure there was a relationship to save, he texted Nathan and Nathan had answered. Ryan impulsively booked a flight immediately—the first flight he could get to LA. He called Nathan from the airport and left a voicemail when Nathan didn’t answer. Now he sat in the taxi as the driver steered it up into the hills. He needed to push aside his insecurities, drop to his knees, and beg forgiveness of the one person who made him whole. He hoped he wasn’t too late.
* * * * *
7:12 a.m.
After his pathetic, half-hearted stumble-run, Nathan decided he needed to get indoors and get a shower. He wasn’t sure what time Ryan would get here but Nathan wanted to be at least halfway decent when he did.
He couldn’t help the excitement that flooded him. He really wanted to see if maybe his ex-lover would want to find some kind of resolution. Maybe they could agree to split their time between the two cities?
He was just inside the main door when the floor beneath his feet moved, subtly the first time, slowly, a groaning, a creaking, and a soft shaking. The ground shift left him holding the doorframe. It only lasted a few seconds and was over before he could force a thought about it through the rest of the clutter in his mind. The checklist in his head clicked in automatically before the shaking had stopped. He smiled briefly. That earth movement would be dominating the news today. Hey, maybe today was a good day for him to walk proudly out of the closet! Surely revealing his sexual preferences would never be more newsworthy than an earthquake in Tinseltown.
He thumbed to the number of his brother out of state and hit Send. The phone at the other end rang once, twice, a third time, and voicemail kicked in. He decided not to leave a message. No one really needed to know that a minor shock had hit his apartment in the hills above LA. The trembler hadn’t been strong enough to be worthy of hitting the news anywhere outside of California. Nathan had just been trying to be a good citizen, letting a family member know like the government said he should. He made a mental note to charge the damn cell when he finished his shower.
Seconds later, just as Nathan pocketed his cell, the earth around him ripped apart with such savagery that it was impossible to stand upright. Nathan scrabbled to hold the side of the doorframe, trying to find his feet. His vision blurred as dust and concrete fell about his head, knocking him to the ground. Before the shaking stopped, before the ceiling joists cascaded down and trapped his legs, he slammed into unconsciousness.
Chapter 2
They were about ten minutes away from Nathan’s apartment when the pre-shock hit. The driver cursed as the car skittered sideways, and Ryan grabbed on to the door and his belt in confusion.
“What the hell?”
“S’okay, just a small one. We get them all the time out here.”
Ryan knew what he meant. Earthquake. He’d never really experienced an earthquake before and it had felt weird, like the whole of the earth beneath the car had slid sideways, stones and loose gravel from the hills above them dropping onto the car in a crashing, rattling rain.
Ryan peered out the window at the sweeping vista of LA sleeping below him, wondering how many people woke up to the sound that was like distant thunder and to the shaking of the earth. The car had skidded to the edge of the road, and he shot a quick glance down the slope, thanking God that it hadn’t been a major quake. Smiling ruefully, he sat back in the seat as the driver pulled away and angled back onto his side of the road.
A breath-stealing jolt yanked him from his musings.
The car was moving; no, the hill was moving…shuddering and falling…pushing the hapless car ahead of it. The rocks, vegetation…the sky tumbled. The car neared the edge, the driver shouting hysterically as it tilted sideways, large chunks of hillside falling to dent the car, beat at the car, push the car to the edge, to the drop, to the shaking and dancing of the moving earth.
Ryan clung with both hands to the grab handle over the cab’s door and jerked at every noise, every motion. This wasn’t good, not good at all. He stared out, snatching a quick look down at LA, and what he saw was burned into his mind. Explosions. He thought he saw buildings shattering and imploding, but that had to be his imagination. What the fuck is happening?
The car ceased its crazy ride and, for one second, remained poised on the edge, overhanging the drop. Then a final shove of moving dirt sent it careening, tumbling down the rise.
The car lodged against a natural outcrop and came to a sudden and bone-crunching stop, the thunder and passion of the earthquake still warring around it, the hill subsiding, plummeting, and falling in a haphazard storm of rocks and debris. The seatbelt saved Ryan’s life. It stopped him from being thrown from the car and crushed under it as it rolled and slid, but it also ultimately trapped him inside the vehicle as the chassis twisted and buckled against the onslaught of the hillside. All too soon the noises around him started to slow, and he was left in the dark surrounded by dust and earth, his eyes burning with fumes. He needed to get out of the taxi now.
With a powerful resolution born of a desire to live, he heaved himself out of the belt and pushed at the door with his booted feet, tumbling out as it burst open. He crab-walked away from the compacted car, his eyes taking in what was essentially half a car. The front had been flattened and the driver crushed.
He was trapped in a nightmare. The remains of the cab perched precariously on a bed of dirt and rocks of all sizes. Flames licked up leaking fuel, eating at the crushed metal. Ryan knew he could do nothing for the driver. He was gone…crushed…dead…fuck.
Stumbling to his feet, he clutched at his forehead, pulling his hand away and staring in a shocked stupor at the blood. A head injury. Crap.
The car groaned as the metal heated. Half out of his mind with horror and dread, believing the car would explode, he twisted and scrambled his way up over the remains of the road, feeling the heat on his back as the fire continued to eat away at the mutilated car. The cab wasn’t the only car destroyed. One that had been ahead of them lay crushed so badly no one could have escaped. Another vehicle that they’d passed on the freeway had plowed into an embankment and burst into flames. All of the vehicles had been tossed around like toys in the hands of Nature.
Finally he crashed to his knees, his back to the view below. There was nothing he could do for anyone in any vehicle here, and his gaze focused on what was left of the road. Reluctantly, spurred by horrified fascination and the need to face what had happened, Ryan pushed himself to his feet and turned slowly. Shielding his eyes with his hand and coughing, he faced the nightmare vista of LA laid out before him. Fire. He could see fire, drifts of dark gray smoke, and clouds of dust. Debris. The ground still stirred uneasily beneath his feet. This was a living disaster movie, surreal, unbelievable. LA was unrecognizable. Everything had gone eerily silent where he stood above the rage of the distant fires and destruction, the motion of the earth around him having finally faded.
The taxi burned brightly, and he shuddered at the thought of the dead driver. Ryan didn’t want to think about a world where death could be a blessing. He could have been trapped in that car, trapped in the flames. Fire: his worst fear, his nightmare.
Living, breathing fire tracked steadily on its way up the hillside following a dirty trail of oil and fuel that speeded its path. He really needed to move and now, but for a second, he stopped, dazed, still watching LA shattered by the ground on which it had risen. Jesus, this looks worse than the Northridge quake of ’94. He recalled a spread in National Geographic that said the quake had only lasted thirty seconds, but he remembered it killed about sixty people and injured several thousand. Images of collapsed freeways and fires flashed across his thoughts, quick jumbled images of death and destruction. This looked bad, and this wasn’t just a small part of the city. The entire LA downtown looked to be destroyed.
Below him lay LA, and around him, but not too near, he heard sirens and smelled smoke. Nathan was somewhere above him, perhaps hit as hard as he’d been. Maybe he was trapped, possibly dead—Ryan froze and refused to think of the worst scenario any more.
Should he try to contact someone? Who? Emergency services? If the situation hadn’t been so horrendous, Ryan might have laughed at the stupidity of his thought. There was no one else that could be right here and now; Nathan had him and him alone to depend upon.
He checked his pocket. Fuck, his cell was in the car, along with a hastily packed flight bag.
Tensing his muscles one by one, he tested for injuries. Each limb seemed bruised but worked. He was relatively uninjured, and nothing appeared broken. His breathing had become easy and regular. He thanked the heavens for the fact that he went running every day and was fit. Picking his way carefully, he started up the hill. Climbing over piles of stone and tossed trees and foliage, he managed to trace parts of the broken road, breaking into a run when he could. He’d been running for ten minutes when he came to an abrupt stop.
“Holy shit.”
Mother Nature had destroyed all that Ryan knew as right and normal. The road twisted in on itself, decimated and ripped apart. It was difficult to see where he needed to scramble but as long as he moved uphill, he was going in the right direction. He imagined he was just over two miles from Nathan’s apartment, in normal circumstances about twenty minutes at a steady uphill run. Over the unsettled wasteland he traversed, he knew the trip would last much longer.
Nathan could be hurt up there. Over the next rise could be total devastation. Ryan quickened his jog, his heart pounding as he jumped and climbed the fallen hillside. He didn’t pass any other cars that had signs of life in them, just burned, twisted wreckage and bodies he couldn’t stand to look at.
As he topped the last hill, to the place where Nathan’s complex had sat, he stopped, horrified. The last time he’d been here, when Nathan first came to LA, the whole area was beautiful—landscaped and artistic design nestled into the hills. But now…
He gaped at a scene that looked like something out of a war movie. Everything was flat. Half the mountain had crushed the private entrance. The gates and what had been the parking area were torn in two.
“Fuck.”
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
BOOKBUB / KOBO / SMASHWORDS
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk
Seth & Casey
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Alpha Delta
B&N / iTUNES / SMASHWORDS
KOBO / GOOGLE PLAY / WEBSITE
All the King's Men
B&N / iTUNES / SMASHWORDS
KOBO / GOOGLE PLAY / WEBSITE
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