finding Reese.: a SAFELIGHT novel vol.2 (SAFELIGHT Series) Read online

  Published by RISC BOOKS.

  finding Reese. a SAFELIGHT novel vol 2

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents, either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2015 by Imy Santiago.

  Excerpt from We Met on a Train by Imy Santiago Copyright © 2015 by Imy Santiago

  All rights reserved.

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitutes unlawful PIRACY and THEFT of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review, prior written consent must be obtained from the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of word-marks, products, and people mentioned in this work of fiction. Except for the original material written by the author, all quotes, songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in the book finding Reese. are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Editing by Kimberly Ito, Sakura Editing

  Cover design by Marisa Shor, CoverMe, Darling

  Cover image purchased at Shutterstock Royalty Free Stock Photography, #89275525

  Formatting by Stacey Blake, Champagne Formats

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  RISC BOOKS eBook Edition / May 2015—RISC BOOKS Paperback First Edition / May 2015

  ISBN for Amazon eBook: 978-0-9863580-6-7

  Adult Fiction–Contemporary Romance

  MATURE CONTENT WARNING:

  This novel contains graphic language and sexually explicit content intended for individuals over the age of eighteen, and includes subject matter such as Alcoholism, Depression, Anxiety and Panic Disorder, and Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. Your discretion is advised.

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  ALSO BY THE AUTHOR

  DEDICATION

  QUOTE

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EPILOGUE

  SPECIAL EXCERPT

  PROLOGUE

  IN THE RHYTHM OF THE DANCE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE WRITER

  Also by IMY SANTIAGO

  the SAFELIGHT series

  chasing Reese. (volume 1)

  THE DEAFENING SOUNDS OF THE helicopter’s rotors come to a stop once it lands on top of the Purcell Mountains. Kicking Horse to be exact. Grabbing my board and backpack from the cargo bins, I trek away from the helicopter. Chris and Rem are riding with me today. These guys are not only my buddies, they’re also members of my snowboarding team. In the cockpit, the pilot lifts his thumb and I follow suit, letting him know we are good to go. The rotors roar back to life and the three of us crouch, shielding our faces from the snow that spirals as the chopper takes off.

  God, I love the Canadian terrain. While Wyoming has some cool spots to snowboard, it’s got nothing on British Columbia. The harsh weather conditions and roughness of the terrain, not to mention the threat of danger, beg me to shred the lines of this gorgeous mountain.

  As the helicopter flies away, I survey the wintry landscape. Adjusting my polarized goggles, I look at the horizon, admiring the perfect azure sky. The sun glares blindingly against the icy mountaintops, and the howling wind lifts the powdery snow and blows it in all directions. Resting my gloved hands on my waist, I take in the incredible view. Kicking Horse has an elevation of 8,033 feet, and little old me is standing right on top of it. That’s fucking awesome if you ask me.

  The boys arranged this little expedition as a birthday present, and after spending a great weekend with my family in Casper, an outing like this is the icing on my cake. Fresh back from the press tour and winning first place at the world snowboarding championships in Port de Soleil, France my life is pretty darn good.

  The walkie-talkie strapped to my chest chirps as home base makes contact. “How’s it looking up there, Jax?” Robert asks, his voice cracking over the radio.

  Robert Karlsson, the Swedish Son as he’s known by folks in the industry, is a former Olympic champion and my coach. He was my childhood instructor when Dad enrolled me in snowboarding lessons when I was seven years old. I can thank Rob for my career in snowboarding. He saw something different in me, and from day one he believed in my potential. While we’ve struggled with my alcoholism, he’s never turned his back on me. It saddens me that Rob is inching towards retirement. He won’t be able to follow me around the world like he used to. I’m treasuring whatever time we have left together as athlete and coach.

  “Oh, if you could see the view right now, Rob! It can’t get any better than this.”

  “The weather conditions are passable, Jax, but I’m warning you, the snow is dry, and this mountain hasn’t seen major ice movement for quite some time. There’s an avalanche watch nearby, but the target team thinks if you stay away from the east side, it should be a decent ride. Just be careful with crevasses. We need you back in one piece, okay?” Rob cautions.

  “Roger that,” I reply nodding, eager to start our run. “I want to point out the visibility is low, and the wind is blowing something fierce. Base, let’s get this party started. See you on the other side.”

  Strapping the radio back on my chest, I gather the guys for a safety brief.

  “Did you guys hear the radio call?” I ask Chris and Rem. They nod, and await instructions. “Okay. Here’s the plan. We need to go down in intervals just in case the ice patch is as loose as Base thinks it is. Rem, you go first and I’ll go mid. Chris, stay close behind me and be careful. Got it, guys?”

  Chris and Rem nod, then strap their boots onto their boards, and I follow. As I lock the last strap over the point of my boot, the winds shift direction, and then come to a complete stop. I feel a chill rising from the base of my spine, and working its way up to my scalp. There’s an eerie feeling unfolding in my gut as I hear the howling wind in the distance.

  The confidence I had this morning dissipates. A part of me wants to call Base and abort this run. I can’t quite pinpoint what it is, but the bad feeling in my gut increases tenfold. It took a lot of convincing on my part to get the team to sign off on this run, especially Rob, so I can’t pussy out. Let’s just hope my lucky streak continues, and I’ll be shaking off this bad feeling on
ce we reach the bottom of Kicking Horse.

  In the distance, I hear the rotors of the helicopter and I know that’s Gabe, my videographer, ready to document the journey down. Looking to the guys, I call, “All right, guys, it’s now or never. Let’s have fun, and remember to stay away from the east side of the slope if possible. Let’s do this.”

  Rem nods, and jumps down the steep ledge of the mountain. Watching him trek down unharmed builds my self-confidence. Seconds later, I hear Chris’ characteristic whooping as he follows close behind.

  It’s such a peaceful feeling, trekking down the mountain hearing the sounds of your board scraping against the snow, the light spray of powder landing all over your goggles and going up your nose. These are the little things that mean so much to me when I’m riding. I enjoy the silence as I become one with nature. It fills my soul with feelings I can’t even begin to describe.

  But there’s something off about this line in particular. There’s an eerie feeling I simply can’t shake off. Maybe I’m just over-thinking things, or Rob’s resistance this morning somehow shook all of my confidence away, but a part of me feels this could be it.

  A loud crack on the side of the mountain straightens my spine, followed by a shrill scream from Chris. Looking behind him, I see a cloud of snow and ice barreling down the mountain. The ground shakes as nature reclaims its territory. I let out a guttural roar to warn Rem, and he looks back at the monster behind us. I can’t see his eyes, but I can tell he’s scared by the way he’s flailing his arms trying to figure out how to outrun it.

  I journey over, trying to find a safe spot to land, and hopefully escape the avalanche. A garbled cry for help comes from behind me, and I turn my neck just in time to see Chris sucked into the claws of the avalanche. “NO!” I scream, horrified.

  I’ve lost all sense of place and time, but my body seems to be taking me to safety as my board zigzags down to the west side of the mountain. I’ve been able to avoid avalanches in the past, but this time around, I’m not so lucky. It takes another second before the avalanche sucks me under.

  My body is tossed around like a rag doll until I’m buried beneath the snow. It’s packed in around me tightly; I can’t move my legs or arms, and as the snow settles, it feels like I’m encased in a pool of hardened cement. It’s becoming harder to breathe with each passing second, and I’m resigned to the fact that I will most likely die.

  My mind replays memories of my life before me like a movie, and bitter, frustrated tears stream down my face, crystallizing quickly as the freezing cold sweeps over me. I’ve always feared dying like this, trapped in the place I love the most, in the snow. My thoughts are of my family, especially Mom and Jupiter. My tears quickly become painful sobs as the contractions of my cries tighten the snow pack around me. Catalina . . . My best friend and confidante. The news of my death will crush her.

  I wrestle against the hardened blanket of snow and ice to move my arms, and after a few seconds of unwavering persistence, my arms come free. My hands desperately push the snow away from my chest, trying to get hold of the radio. With shaky fingers I press the call button.

  “Base, this is Jax. Do you copy? I’m trapped, but I’m okay. Can anyone hear me?” Taking small, measured breaths, I wait for a reply, but all I get is static. “Base, this is Jax. I’m on the western quadrant of the mountain. I’m alive. Can anyone hear me?” Once again, static feedback rings in the small pocket of snow surrounding me.

  No, no. This can’t be happening. My body shakes violently as the freezing cold goes through all of my layers. I’m finding it hard to breathe, and if no one comes soon, I’ll be dead from hypothermia.

  I’m so cold I can’t feel my limbs, and the more breaths I take, the more exhausted I become. My life as I know it hangs by a thread. Exhausted, I close my eyes and say a prayer. I ask God to have mercy on my soul. While I’m not the most spiritual of men, I think He’s always had my back. All the stupid shit I’ve done, all the risks I’ve taken, I’ve always risen from them all.

  The clock is ticking. I need to dig myself out somehow and go home. I refuse to let this be my end.

  Catalina−the bracelet−look for me, please!

  “Base, please. This is Jackson Reese. I’m alive. Someone come and get me. Please,” I cry into the radio, praying someone answers. I’ll keep trying until my dying breath. This is not how I was destined to die. Not here and not like this.

  Closing my eyes, I rest. What happens next is all in God’s hands.

  “STRYDER! LOOK! HE’S ALIVE!” CATALINA exclaims, her index finger shaking as she points at the screen of her laptop. There is a red dot blinking consistently on the screen at the foot of Kicking Horse Mountain in Golden, British Columbia−the site of a horrifying avalanche that sucked Jackson, Chris, and Rem under almost three days ago. I blink twice, completely in shock. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. He’s alive. My baby brother Jax is alive!

  After returning home from a month-long press tour, we were in Casper celebrating Jackson’s thirtieth birthday. Catalina, the woman I was assigned to work with during Jackson’s press tour−and who I’ve fallen madly in love with−presented Jax with a friendship bracelet with a global positioning service tracking dot powered by pulse as a birthday gift. Catalina and Jackson share a bond I’ll never understand, but I embrace it and encourage it.

  I have to give it to my girl. That bracelet has proven to be the smartest gift I’ve ever heard of, and the fact that it continues to ping two days after the avalanche is a solid indicator that Jax is alive and kicking somewhere underneath a pile of snow. This newfound knowledge makes us aware each passing second is a frantic race to find him alive.

  Yesterday evening, the Canadian officials announced their plans to abandon their search and rescue efforts after recovering the bodies of Jax’s companions, former members of the National Snowboarding team Chris James and Rem Highleigh. As I look at the incessant red dot flashing on the screen, I know this news changes everything, and don’t think twice before dialing Kaelan’s number. As I wait for her to answer, my body shakes with a confusing combination of nervous energy and elation.

  “Jupiter,” Kaelan greets me, her voice gravelly and sad.

  “Kaelan, Jackson is alive!” I scream over the headset. “Our boy is alive!”

  I hear her sharp exhale over the line. “Jupiter, it’s impossible, honey. I know this news is difficult to accept, but we need to grasp the reality that Jax is gone, baby. The sooner−”

  “No, Kaelan,” I yell, interrupting her mid-sentence. “We tracked him down. We know the exact coordinates of where he is! Jax is alive. I know this sounds crazy and all, but trust me when I say he’s alive!”

  “Stryder, slow down there . . . I don’t understand. How did you find him?” Kaelan asks, her gentle voice denoting utter confusion.

  “Catalina got Jax a friendship bracelet for his birthday. On the tag, there’s a GPS tracking dot embedded in it, and it’s not powered by battery, but by pulse. With everything going on, she forgot about it until several minutes ago. She looked up the tracker identification key,” I ramble excitedly. “Kaelan, the bracelet is emitting pings. That could only mean one thing! Jax is alive!” I practically scream.

  “What?! Oh my God! Thank heavens! Okay. Can you send me his coordinates and any information you have about this bracelet? I need to pass it on to the Canadian search officials. This changes everything, Jupiter!” Kaelan sings.

  I ask Catalina to forward all the information to Kaelan via email, and Kaelan offers to get both Catalina and me on the first flight out of John F. Kennedy Airport towards Calgary. Without a moment’s hesitation I accept her offer, and quickly disconnect the call.

  We need to get out of here, and there’s no time to waste. I’ll be damned if the Canadian officials give up on finding my best friend and brother−the one I always wanted but never had−alive. Jax is a fighter and always has been. Call it intuition or providence, but deep down I know it will only be a matter of hours before
he is found.

  Tossing the phone aside I walk towards Catalina, and embrace her. My lips quickly find the silken skin of her tanned neck, and pepper it with adoring kisses. I know this is the least opportune time to be affectionate, or start something I can’t see through, but at the same time she needs to know how I feel. If Jackson is found alive and in one piece it will be all thanks to her. Hope floats in my chest at the mere thought of kissing the agony of the past few days away.

  “Cat, I love you so much. This news gives us hope. Jax is alive and we need to get to him as soon as possible. Kaelan is getting us a flight. We need to get out of here quick. I’m not packing anything. We can buy what we need when we get there, but right now that’s the least of my worries.”

  Her teary eyes connect with mine. The vision before me breaks my heart, and judging by the non-stop quivering of her lips, I know she has her doubts. “What if the bracelet is broken, Stryder? What if it’s just a glitch and Jax is really gone?” Catalina whispers, her voice cracking with each word.

  Her words unsettle me. In a fit of desperation I shake my head repeatedly, and one of my hands cups the back of her neck while the other covers her heart-shaped lips. “Shh. The last thing we lose is hope, Catalina. If we lose it, then what’s the point of living and dreaming? Stop. He’s alive. I feel it in my gut. Don’t be negative, because right now our friend is trapped in the snow in the middle of nowhere probably freezing. We can’t give up. Do you understand me?”

  Catalina nods, and when I remove my hand from her lips she smiles softly, bringing to surface the dimple on her right cheek. Her dainty palm tucks a wayward lock of raven-colored hair behind her ear. “Okay,” she whispers, nodding and trying to sound convincing, but deep down I know she’s anything but.

  Catalina has experienced a world of crippling loss, and seeing her saddened upsets me. Given her past this was the last thing she needed, most especially when she bonded the way she did with Jax during his press tour. That’s how Catalina Pardo and I met. Assigned to work as her photojournalist, touring the world and chronicling Jackson’s career; it was a twist of fate that brought us together. The truth is I knew I wanted Catalina the moment I laid eyes on her, and it was only a matter of time before she became mine.