Firetrap: The Soul Scorchers MC (The Scorched Souls Serial-series Book 1) by C.L. Riley Page B
Authors: C.L. Riley
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gave me a place to be alone and think. Right now I had some major thinking to do.
Olympia
It felt like I’d been hobbling through the forest forever, my calf still burning. Undoubtedly, it had only been an hour or two. Every step was a chore that added to my agony. I needed a break, and I was desperate for a drink.
A few scattered raindrops had hit my face a while back, but since then, the clouds had burned off. The sky was blue, dotted with a few fluffy clouds. I was pretty sure I smelled the ocean, though I couldn’t be certain. My tongue felt like sandpaper. If I didn’t find fresh water soon, I’d follow the briny scent to the seashore and drink salt water; screw the kidney complications.
How do I know about salt water but can’t remember my own identity?
It appeared my memory loss was only partial. I could recall life-basics, but personal information remained elusive.
My self-assessment was cut short as my calf spasmed in protest. I couldn’t take one more step, not like this. Collapsing beneath a tree, I leaned back, the ridges in the wood digging into my tender back. The situation was hopeless. With no food, no water, and not clue where I was, my time was limited. Add in the leg cramp that wouldn't quit, and I was down for the count, literally. Anger and frustration coursed through me. I was helpless to save myself.
Without a miracle, I was going to die out here.
Maybe if I took a nap I’d regain some energy. As logical as that idea seemed, a nagging thought that I wouldn’t wake up intruded. Despite the warning, I couldn’t stop my eyes from shutting. Keeping them open required too much strength. Strength I didn’t have.
The breeze wrapped around me and birds chirped. A squirrel scurried somewhere in the branches. With the forest sounds as my background music, I let myself drift away, releasing my fears and worries, and embracing peace.
There was no more pain, no more thirst. No more anything, just relief.
Death wasn’t so bad after all.
Boone
Hiking further than usual, I contemplated my latest text. Doc had updated Bones after speaking with the fire chief. I wasn’t surprised by the news.
Evidence of a struggle in the mayor’s primary residence had led law enforcement to consider kidnapping for ransom as a potential motive. The Olsen’s were sitting on a shit load of money, especially with the life insurance payout Olympia had received following her mother’s death. Madeline Olsen’s case had been reopened in light of recent events. I wanted them to take another look at Rita’s death, but doubted they would. The fact she’d been married to me not Seal Cove’s mayor, made all the difference.
For now, the ATF was calling the shots, but keeping local police and the fire chief in the loop, enlisting their help as needed.
Conner Mills insisted to anyone who would listen that the Soul Scorchers were involved. He had no evidence to support the claim, but continued to point to Rita’s fire-related death as a link. According to Doc, Seal’s Cove residents had divided opinions in relation to us and our supposed part in the fires. Some were eager to see the club fall, while others wanted nothing more than to maintain the benefits we provided.
I agreed with Conner about one thing. Everything was somehow connected. Rita’s death and the Olsen fires were linked. It didn’t take some government agency to figure that out. If only I could prove it and find the arsonist responsible. The ATF was wasting time scrutinizing us, but getting them to believe that wouldn’t be easy.
A search party was being organized to hunt for Olympia and her father, on the off chance they’d escaped, and were hurt, or wandering nearby. I would join up with them shortly, along with my brothers. We planned to help wherever possible, learning what we could in the process and improving public opinion.
So much for clearing my head; all I could think about was Olympia.
Imagining her as a kidnapping victim, or worse,
Olympia
It felt like I’d been hobbling through the forest forever, my calf still burning. Undoubtedly, it had only been an hour or two. Every step was a chore that added to my agony. I needed a break, and I was desperate for a drink.
A few scattered raindrops had hit my face a while back, but since then, the clouds had burned off. The sky was blue, dotted with a few fluffy clouds. I was pretty sure I smelled the ocean, though I couldn’t be certain. My tongue felt like sandpaper. If I didn’t find fresh water soon, I’d follow the briny scent to the seashore and drink salt water; screw the kidney complications.
How do I know about salt water but can’t remember my own identity?
It appeared my memory loss was only partial. I could recall life-basics, but personal information remained elusive.
My self-assessment was cut short as my calf spasmed in protest. I couldn’t take one more step, not like this. Collapsing beneath a tree, I leaned back, the ridges in the wood digging into my tender back. The situation was hopeless. With no food, no water, and not clue where I was, my time was limited. Add in the leg cramp that wouldn't quit, and I was down for the count, literally. Anger and frustration coursed through me. I was helpless to save myself.
Without a miracle, I was going to die out here.
Maybe if I took a nap I’d regain some energy. As logical as that idea seemed, a nagging thought that I wouldn’t wake up intruded. Despite the warning, I couldn’t stop my eyes from shutting. Keeping them open required too much strength. Strength I didn’t have.
The breeze wrapped around me and birds chirped. A squirrel scurried somewhere in the branches. With the forest sounds as my background music, I let myself drift away, releasing my fears and worries, and embracing peace.
There was no more pain, no more thirst. No more anything, just relief.
Death wasn’t so bad after all.
Boone
Hiking further than usual, I contemplated my latest text. Doc had updated Bones after speaking with the fire chief. I wasn’t surprised by the news.
Evidence of a struggle in the mayor’s primary residence had led law enforcement to consider kidnapping for ransom as a potential motive. The Olsen’s were sitting on a shit load of money, especially with the life insurance payout Olympia had received following her mother’s death. Madeline Olsen’s case had been reopened in light of recent events. I wanted them to take another look at Rita’s death, but doubted they would. The fact she’d been married to me not Seal Cove’s mayor, made all the difference.
For now, the ATF was calling the shots, but keeping local police and the fire chief in the loop, enlisting their help as needed.
Conner Mills insisted to anyone who would listen that the Soul Scorchers were involved. He had no evidence to support the claim, but continued to point to Rita’s fire-related death as a link. According to Doc, Seal’s Cove residents had divided opinions in relation to us and our supposed part in the fires. Some were eager to see the club fall, while others wanted nothing more than to maintain the benefits we provided.
I agreed with Conner about one thing. Everything was somehow connected. Rita’s death and the Olsen fires were linked. It didn’t take some government agency to figure that out. If only I could prove it and find the arsonist responsible. The ATF was wasting time scrutinizing us, but getting them to believe that wouldn’t be easy.
A search party was being organized to hunt for Olympia and her father, on the off chance they’d escaped, and were hurt, or wandering nearby. I would join up with them shortly, along with my brothers. We planned to help wherever possible, learning what we could in the process and improving public opinion.
So much for clearing my head; all I could think about was Olympia.
Imagining her as a kidnapping victim, or worse,
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