out and blocked his path with his arm. When Bryce tried to step around him, the man grabbed him by the arm and shoved him backward.
As he stumbled back, Bryce was very aware of all of the open space that was waiting less than five feet behind him—somewhere around four hundred feet of open space, at that.
Bryce had only thrown one single punch in his life; it had been in second grade, on the playground, when some jerk kid had told him some dumb Your Mama joke. Still, Bryce found himself making a fist in that moment, fully prepared to fight if he had to.
“What the hell is your problem?” Bryce asked.
“Gravity,” the man said.
He made a motion then, not a punch but more like a throwing action. Bryce threw a wrist up to block it, realizing what was in the man’s hand just as he caught the golden glitter of the sunset’s reflection off of its metal surface.
A hammer.
It struck his forehead hard enough to make a sound that, to Bryce, sounded like something that might come out of a cartoon. But the pain that followed was not funny or comical at all. He blinked, absolutely dazed. He took a single step back, every nerve in his body trying to remind him that there was a four-hundred-foot drop behind him.
But his nerves were slow, the blunt attack to his forehead sending a blinding pain through his skull and a numbing sensation down his back.
Bryce crumpled, falling to one knee. And that’s when the man reached out with his foot and kicked Bryce directly in the center of the chest.
Bryce barely felt the impact. His head was a blazing fire. But the kick sent him flying backward, his side striking the ground hard enough to send him bouncing back even farther.
He felt gravity claim him at once but was confused as to what, exactly, had happened.
His heart raced and his pain-filled mind went into panic mode. He tried to draw a breath as his muscles took over, flailing for any sort of purchase.
But there was nothing. There was only the open air, the wind off his descent passing by his ears and, seconds later, the briefest explosion of pain when he hit the hardpan dirt below. In the single breath left within him, he saw the red tint on the side of the wall he had just climbed, his final sunset ushering him out.
CHAPTER FOUR
What had at first felt like paradise quickly started to feel like a prison of sorts. While she still loved her son more than she could even start to explain, Mackenzie was getting stir-crazy. The occasional stroll down the block just wasn’t cutting it anymore. When the doctor had cleared her for light exercise and to start picking up the pace around the house, she instantly thought of jogging or even some light weights. She was out of shape—perhaps more than she had been in over five years—and the abs she had often prided herself on were buried beneath scar tissue and a layer of fat that she was unfamiliar with.
In one of her weaker moments, she started to weep uncontrollably one night when getting out of the shower. Ever the dutiful and loving husband, Ellington had come rushing into the bathroom to find her leaning against the sink.
“Mac, what is it? Are you okay?”
“No. I’m crying. I’m not okay. And I’m crying over stupid shit.”
“Like what?”
“Like the body I just saw in the mirror.”
“Ah, Mac…hey, you remember a few weeks ago when you told me that you’d read that you would start crying over random things? Well, I think this is one of them.”
“That C-section scar will be there for the rest of my life. And the weight…it’s not going to be easy to get it off.”
“And why does this bother you?” he asked. He wasn’t taking the tough love approach, but he also wasn’t coddling her. It was a stark reminder of how well he knew her.
“It shouldn’t. And honestly, I think the crying is over something else…it just took the sight of my body to bring it all out.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your body.”
“You have to say that.”
“No I don’t.”
“How can you even look at this and want it?” she asked.
He smiled at her. “It’s quite easy. And look…I know the doctor cleared you for light exercise. So, you know…if you let me do all of the work…”
With that, he gave a flirtatious glance back through the bathroom door and into the bedroom.
“What about Kevin?”
“Taking his late-afternoon nap,” he said. “He’ll probably be up in a minute or two, though. Just so happens, though, that it’s been a little over three months. So I don’t expect anything that happens in there to take long.”
“You’re such a dork.”
He responded with a kiss that not only cut her off but instantly erased the way she had been feeling about herself. He kissed her deeply and slowly and in it, she could feel the three months that were pent up within him. He led her gently to the bedroom and, as he had suggested, he did all of the work—carefully and with skill.
Kevin’s timing was perfect. He woke up three minutes after it was over. As they walked into the nursery together, Mackenzie pinched his butt. “I think that was a little more than light exercise.”
“You feel okay?”
“I feel exceptional,” she said. “So exceptional that I think I might try the gym tonight. You think you can watch little man while I head out for a bit?”
“Of course. Just don’t overdo it.”
And that was all it took to get Mackenzie motivated. She never half-assed anything. That included working out and, apparently, being a mother. Perhaps that was why a little over three months after bringing Kevin home, she felt guilty for going out for the first time. She’d gone to the grocery store and the doctor before, sure, but this was the first time she had headed out knowing that she would be away from her baby for more than an hour or so.
She got to the gym just after eight, so most of the crowd had thinned out. It was the same gym she had frequented when she had started with the bureau, before she had relied on the bureau’s own facilities. It felt good to be back here, on a treadmill like anyone else in the city, fighting with the out-of-date resistance bands and working out just to be active.
She only managed half an hour before her abdomen started to hurt. She also had a severe cramp in her right leg which she tried to work out but to no avail. She took a break, tried the treadmill again, but decided to call it a day.
Don’t even try to be hard on yourself, she thought, but it was Ellington’s voice in her head. You’ve grown a human inside you and then had it cut out. You’re not going to go back into this thing like Superwoman. Give it some time.
She had broken a sweat, and that was good enough for her. She went back home, showered, and fed Kevin. He was so content that he fell asleep while nursing, something the doctors advised against. But she allowed it, holding him there until she, too, felt tired. When
