Eulogy (Eagle Elite #9) by Rachel Van Dyken
All is lost.
I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore.
My thoughts are filled with hatred and dripping with rage.
I’ve lost my soul.
She took it to the depths of Hell with her and haunts me with images of what could have been.
Sixty lives are mine to take.
Sixty lives stand in the way of my vengeance.
Sixty lives plus one more.
When the last drop of blood falls — mine will be spilled.
Only one person stands in the way.
She doesn’t realize I’ll kill her too.
I don’t own a heart.
And even if I did — I wouldn’t fall prey to its lies again.
I am Chase Abandonato.
Heir to a legacy of betrayal.
And I will kill them all.
Even if it means pointing the gun at myself.
A life for a life.
A soul for a soul.
Now I lay me down to sleep… I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Blood in. No out.
The next stand alone in the internationally bestselling Eagle Elite Series.
Check out rachelvandykenauthor.com for updates on this series or stand-alone reading order!
Excerpt Eulogy (Eagle Elite #9) by Rachel Van Dyken
The door opened and closed.
“Nixon, I already said—” I stood ready to go head to head with him if need be, when Trace rounded the corner, arms crossed. “Trace.”
She nodded to Dante.
He looked between us, muttered a curse, and walked out with his hands up like he wasn’t going to be held responsible for whatever blood was spilled.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I took another swig. Already my vision was blurring, I’d drunk half the bottle. Why the hell hadn’t I passed out already?
Trace pried the bottle from my hand.
I let her.
With one swing, she thrust it against the wall. Amber liquid flew everywhere, and brown glass joined more glass on the floor.
“That was wasteful,” I muttered.
“You’re wasteful,” she fired right back, making my lips twitch.
“Come up with that all by yourself?” I rolled my eyes. “Go home, Trace.” Home to your husband, to your child, to your perfect life.
“Just because Nixon’s my home, doesn’t mean you aren’t.” Tears filled her eyes as she glanced at my hands, my cut up bloody hands. Without speaking, she grabbed them both in hers and kissed the blood with her innocent lips. I tried to jerk away.
She held fast.
“Stop.” I clenched my teeth.
I didn’t want it.
I didn’t want her love.
I rejected it.
She’d rejected me.
I didn’t even want her friendship.
It hurt too much.
She was my best friend’s wife.
The last thing she needed to be doing was kissing my hands, kissing my sin, my mistake, my failures as a husband.
As a human being.
I closed my eyes tight against all the voices in my head, voices that screamed my worthlessness, that fueled my rage.
“Come on.” She pulled my hand, and for some reason, I followed her. Maybe the Jack was finally hitting me. I swayed a bit on my feet as I followed her into the master bedroom.
The one I was supposed to share.
I froze at the door. “Not here.”
Trace sighed and walked down the hall to the next room. It had a mattress on the floor and a new comforter set in blue.
Out of all the colors of the rainbow? Why blue?
The thought made me cringe and then laugh out loud. Yeah, the Jack was hitting hard.
Trace shoved me in the general direction of the mattress, and I collapsed on top of it. And then she left.
Or I thought she did.
Minutes later a warm rag was getting dragged across my palms, my fingers, and then the comforter was covering my body. My shoes were tugged off.
She sighed and rubbed my back. “Come back to me, Chase. Come back to us.”
“Maybe,” I slurred through a drunken haze. “I was never yours to begin with. Theirs. Hers.”
I could feel her sadness.
The air was heavy with it.
But my anger won.
It always did.
I jerked away from her. “Go away.”
“You’ll have to kill me first,” she challenged in a voice that sounded too sweet to be threatening.
“Don’t tempt me,” I threatened, feeling instantly guilty at the sharp intake of breath, and then, she kicked me while I was down.
Literally dug the point of her boot into my ribs several times until I turned around and grabbed her leg and pulled her to the mattress on the floor, hovering over her, angry, so angry.
“Don’t ever threaten me again.” Her chest heaved, brown eyes lit up with tears. I hung my head, bracing my hands on either side of her.
I’d been this way once with her.
Pushing her against the ground.
Holding her there with my body.
I’d tasted her lips.
I’d been hers.
And then I’d been nothing.
And now, now she was still there.
I wanted her gone.
I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “If you don’t want me to threaten you again, I suggest you get out.”
“Or what?” The challenge hung between us.
I wasn’t relenting.
Neither was she.
But she reminded me of everything I’d lost.
Of every reason why I lost it.
“Trace.” My body shook. “Understand this, you’re not longer safe with me. Get. Out.”
I slowly moved away from her just as she got to her feet and said, “I never was.”
I fell asleep to the sound of laughter.
And wondered if she’d always haunt me that way.
Mocking my life.
Even in her death.