Imperfect

I grab my beer from the coffee table and stand, moving out to the porch once more. It’s still raining heavily, but I can just make out the headlights of an approaching car. I recognize Keets’ truck as it pulls up in front of the house, and I chuckle in amusement as he and Ruth make a mad dash for the porch. “Wet enough?” I joke, slapping him on the back. The smile dies on my face when he pulls down the hood of his jacket and I see his eyes. “Shit, Keets, what’s wrong?” I ask, glancing over at Ruth. She’s deathly pale, her lips tinged blue from the cold. “It’s Sha

“We can’t find her,” Keets answers, his eyes wide with fright.

I shake his shoulders, hard. “What the hell do you mean, you can’t find her?” I yell.

“We went to her house to see how she was doing,” Ruth explains. I glance over at her, not releasing Keets from my firm grip. “She wasn’t there.”

“Did you check the bar?” I grind out.

Keets nods. “Yeah, her car was there, and this,” she holds out Sha

I curse savagely and shove Keets away from me, ru

“Don’t blame yourself,” Keets says. I glance up at him in surprise. How can he possibly know what I’m thinking? He smiles gently and places a comforting hand on my arm. “We’ve been friends a long time,” he reminds me. I smile back, but it fades as I think about Sha

“Where to first?” I ask, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. I know from all my Army training how important it is to keep a clear head. But it’s all I can do to stop from grinding my teeth together in frustration.

“I don’t know,” Keets admits. “Ruth and I already checked her house.”

“Could she have gone back into town?” I ask.

Keets ponders for a moment. “It’s possible,” he agrees. “But I doubt it. She only went back to town with us because Ruth asked her to.”

I know he’s right, but I’m prepared to try anything. “Town,” I order, sitting back in my seat and staring out at the wet road. The rain has increased, and with it the wind. I’m sure we’ll blow right off the road if we’re not careful. We drive for some time, and I’m almost dozing off in my seat when I hear Keets muttering to himself. “What is it?” I ask, sitting up straight and peering at him in the dark truck.

Keets shakes his head. “The lights are on at the stables,” he says. “There’s only one person I know crazy enough to go up there on a night like this.”

“Sha

Keets nods as he turns the truck down a small narrow lane. It’s dark, the high beams of the headlights the only light. A small animal darts out from behind a tree and Keets slams on the brakes, slowly inching forward. “Sorry.” He grins as he glances over at me.

I nod, my heart still in my throat. We approach the stables and Keets cuts the engine. We both slip on our dry jackets, and I grab my flashlight as I step out of the truck. I follow Keets into the stables, my eyebrows arching as he bypasses all the stalls. Clearly, he knows exactly where he’s going. He pauses at the last stable on the right and by the time I make it to his side, I can’t contain my grin. He’s leaning over the rail, stroking the nose of a large horse and speaking softly to it.

“A friend of yours?” I joke, reaching out to pat its side. The horse is silky soft, and a beautiful strawberry-blonde color. It’s clearly owned and loved.

“This is Lady.” Keets grins, glancing at me as he continues stroking her long nose. “She’s Sha

“Sha

Keets laughs. “Maybe if you left your house even once, you’d know that already.”

“It seems there’s a lot I’m missing,” I mutter, glancing around. “So, where’s Sha

“I don’t know,” Keets admits, his brow furrowing in worry. “I thought for sure she’d be here.”

“Maybe she did go into town,” I say, ru

Keets shakes his head. “I just don’t believe that,” he says quietly. “Why would she leave her car behind?”

“Well.” I sigh. “She’s definitely not here.”

“Come on,” Keets says, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Let’s check her house again before we go into town. I just hope the road’s not flooded.”

I start to follow Keets back down the row of stalls, but a flash of lightning lights up the stables and I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye and I turn my head toward it. I shine the flashlight out into the corral, feeling my heart beat faster as I see movement again. “Keets!” I yell, breaking out into a run. “She’s out here.” I reach her before he does. Skidding to a stop beside her, my heart feels like it’s been ripped in half as I see her badly bruised leg. I kneel beside her, not caring about the mud on my jeans as I carefully lift her head, cradling it on my lap. “Shan,” I say in a loud voice, leaning over her as my trembling fingers brush away strands of her hair that have come loose and are stuck to her cheek. “Sha

I’m back on the field, nursing my friend Jackson as he dies in my arms.

“Stone,” he says, grabbing the sleeve of my jacket desperately, blood pooling beneath him and sinking into the hot, dry sand. “Help me.”

Hot tears burn the back of my eyelids as I close my eyes. We’re miles away from any kind of help. There’s nothing I can do but stay with him until the end. “It’s okay,” I reply gruffly, holding him close as I stare into his terrified eyes. I feel so fucking helpless. One of my best friends is dying right in front of me, and I can’t do a damn thing to stop it. Jackson makes a strange gurgling sound in the back of his throat, and I wince as blood bubbles out of his mouth. He starts to shake, his face much too pale. It won’t be long now.Tears pour down both our faces as we lie in the sand.

“Stone,” Jackson says. His voice is quiet now, barely above a whisper. I have to lean close to him to hear what he says.

“Tell my wife I-I—”

“Shh,” I soothe, holding him tightly. “Save your strength. I know, I’ll tell her. You have my word.”

I feel his body go limp, and I throw my head back. A wail tears from my chest; it sounds inhuman. It’s the wail of a man who’s lost his friend . . . his sanity.

“Her leg’s hurt,” Keets says, kneeling beside me and touching it gently. She cries out and her face screws up in pain, but her eyes remain closed. “She’s passed out.” He leans forward, scrunching his nose. “She reeks of alcohol.”

“So call an ambulance,” I respond gruffly.

Keets pulls out his cell phone and shakes his head. “No reception. Storm must be screwing it up.”