Sequel to The Dead Don’t Fall.
As malevolent forces close in, Ian and Adam’s desperate hope for a future together is threatened by their most ruthless adversary yet.
In El Paso, Ian faces a series of shocking betrayals that derail his quest to reunite with Adam, forcing him and his newly reunited group to journey to New Orleans to confront the culprit. Meanwhile, longing for Ian’s return, Adam forges a new life in Colombia, cultivating new friendships while battling the lingering scars of his past.
Their hard-won reunion propels them and their friends from the lively streets of Bogota into the wild, shadow-drenched jungles of Bolivia. Here they must rely on each other as they never have before, building a home and steeling themselves for a confrontation with an adversary determined to stalk them to the ends of the earth.
Clinging to each other in a treacherous and uncertain world, Ian and Adam must make their last stand. As together they face an unstoppable foe and a past that refuses to die in an epic showdown that will determine their fate and the fate of everyone they hold dear.
Note: This book ends on a cliffhanger and contains strong violence and dark, mature themes, including characters dealing with past trauma.
Over two months had passed since the last time they were together. Now that they were, Ian was at a loss for what to say to him. Remembering the letters they’d exchanged, the words he’d said to no one else, only Adam. Words he meant with all his heart. Yet now, Ian found himself unsure of where they stood.
Ian held the door to their room open for Adam. Adam stepped inside, still silent. The scarred side of his face tilted away from him. Through the cracked window, the wind howled.
Ian shut the door, blocking out the conversational drone of the group nearby.
Their boisterous voices reduced to an indiscernible hum.
When Ian reached to take him in his arms, Adam pulled away. The rejection stung. Adam sat at the edge of the tiny bed to remove his shoes, his jeans, and his T-shirt, stripping down to his underwear.
Adam glanced up to meet his eyes. His scar, a jagged line of twisted pink and red, ran across the left side of his face like an angry river. From the tip of one beautiful green eye to the curve of his perfect lips. Ian had spent so many long, lonely nights dreaming of those lips.
Was it possible that Adam was even more beautiful now? Not despite the scar, but because its existence highlighted all Ian loved about him. His strength, his resilience, and yes, his beauty, a beauty not even the worst evil could destroy.
Under the weight of Ian’s scrutiny, Adam faltered. “You don’t want me anymore.”
Ian knelt before him and took Adam’s hands in his. “I’ll always want you. Nothing’s changed.”
Adam searched his face, looking for traces of sincerity or any falseness. Ian wasn’t sure, but he let him look, though the weight of Adam’s stare left Ian unsure.
“Don’t lie to me,” Adam said so low Ian almost didn’t hear him. “I know what I look like now.”
Ian couldn’t bear it. He took hold of Adam’s face and kissed him, pouring all his longing into the gesture. Ian kissed his lips and his eyelids. He tasted his tears as they fell over the curve of his unblemished right side. Then, as Adam shook and wept in his arms, Ian kissed the length of his scar, one gentle kiss at a time.
“I want you so much,” Ian muttered between kisses. “You have no idea how much.”
Adam shoved his hands away, rising.
Ian turned to go after him, but Adam held him off. “Everything’s changed,” Adam whispered, not looking at Ian, but somewhere else. Somewhere far in the past, where Ian feared he might not reach him.
How could Adam not know how much he meant to him? How could Adam think for even a second that anything could come between them, let alone a scar? A single physical mark of what they had endured, one of many—only, the emotional ones ran darker, bolder.
“No, no, it hasn’t.” Ian took Adam by his shoulders and forced him to look at him. “You’re still the same.”
“I’m not,” Adam insisted with a firm shake of his head. “Whoever I was, that man, he’s gone, and I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Ian kissed his forehead. Shuddering with relief as Adam’s eyes fell shut, and he leaned into Ian’s touch. His hands were on Ian’s waist, stepping into his space.
Ian was hyper-aware of every line and curve of Adam’s body, the mere inches between them a distance too far. But Ian would find a way. A way around all the terrible things they’d done and would do yet. Anything to give Adam a glimpse of the beautiful life still possible. As long as they had each other, they’d figure out the rest.
“Ian --
Ian silenced him with another kiss, and Adam returned it with all the fire and passion they’d once shared. Heat hot enough to burn the world down around them. But Ian no longer cared, because Adam was alive and he was his. For that alone, Ian was ready to believe God might exist after all. His fingertips trailed the rise and fall of goosebumps as they spread across Adam’s skin. Ian kissed him slowly, as if time itself belonged to them, and them alone.
A hazy eternity passed as they stopped to press their bodies close, to feel what they’d been needing for so long. Though Ian burned for him, he didn’t want to rush this; he wanted to savor all that had eluded him these last few months. He wanted to make this night last forever.
