When the Stars Fall (Lost Stars Book 1)

ago. She used makeup to cover them, but they were still there, clear as fucking day for everyone to see. No amount of makeup could hide the truth.
I had done this to her.
I had inflicted pain on the person I claimed to love above all others.
A few months ago I’d almost broken her wrist in the midst of a night terror. I hated myself for the hell I’d put her through. The shouting, the unfounded accusations, the drinking and the times I couldn’t bear to be touched. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for. Love shouldn’t have to hurt this much. She’d tried to convince me otherwise, but she was blind to the truth. And I’d be damned if I would continue dragging her down with me. Lila was tough and she was strong, but her love for me made her weak. She had stayed by my side, through thick and thin, when she should have left my ass.
Hell, she should have left my ass the day I went off to boot camp at the ripe old age of eighteen. Back then I’d had it all figured out. So cocky. So confident that I was strong-minded enough to handle anything. That was only six years ago, but it felt like another lifetime.
Now, she was scared of me. Scared for me. Afraid to leave me alone. Afraid I wouldn’t make it to my twenty-fifth birthday.
Look what you’ve done to her, asshole. Can you really expect her to love you for better or worse?
She deserved so much better than a psycho who had almost choked her to death. The list of shit I’d done to her—to my entire family—was long and unforgivable. Not just the past year since I’d been home, but the years she’d spent waiting and worrying about me while I was off fighting a war she’d begged me to stay out of. Lila would claim that she hadn’t made any sacrifices to be with me, but it was bullshit and we both knew it.
I stood up and set the note on the bedside table then walked out of the bedroom before I could change my mind. I hoped she would understand that I was doing this because I loved her. It was time to set her free. I couldn’t be the man she needed. That man was gone.
The sun was starting to rise as I drove away. I left my home. I left Texas. I left my family. And I left the love of my life. If I could have crawled out of my own skin, and out of my head, I would have left them behind too.
I cranked up the volume on a classic rock song—“Carry On Wayward Son”—and I drove.
Lifting the bottle of whiskey to my lips, I took a long swig.
“You fucked up, McCallister.” I turned my head to look at my buddy Reese Madigan, sitting in the passenger seat of my Silverado. He rubbed his hand over his buzzed cut, his other hand tapping out the beat to the music. Reese loved this song. Used to belt it out at the top of his lungs just to piss everyone off. Dude had the worst singing voice. Couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. “You should have known.”
“He was just a boy,” I argued. “We played football with him. Gave him candy. How could I have known?”
“You telling me you didn’t see the cell phone? You saw it but you hesitated, didn’t you?”
I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my arm. My heart was hammering against my ribcage, fear and dread crawling up my spine.
I checked the passenger seat again. Reese was gone. Because Reese was fucking dead. I was talking to dead men now.
I took another swig of whiskey. And I kept driving.
She’d be better off without me. My girl was a fighter, and she was resilient. I didn’t believe in much of anything anymore, but I still believed in her.

Part I


Chapter One


Lila
“Why do I have to wear a stupid dress?” I grumbled as my mom brushed the snarls out of my hair. I scowled at my reflection in the mirror. The sundress was yellow with white embroidered flowers. Flowers. Barf.
“Because the McCallisters invited us over for a barbecue.”
The McCallisters lived right up the road from our new house, so I guess that made them our neighbors. Yesterday, Kate McCallister stopped by to welcome us to the neighborhood and it turned out that she and Mom had known each other in college. Small world, they’d said, laughing and hugging like long lost friends.
“I can’t see why it should matter what I wear.”
“Stop being a grouch,” Mom teased, dividing my hair into three sections so she could braid it. She was smiling. Had been since Derek agreed to leave Houston and move to Cypress Springs, a small town in the Texas Hill Country. Mom was a nurse and would be starting her new job next week. Derek was an electrician and since he was self-employed, it didn’t matter where we lived, he could work anywhere.
“Two of the boys are the same age as you,” she said. “Maybe you can be friends.”
“I doubt it. Not when they see me in this dress. I look stupid.”
“You look pretty.” She tugged at the end of the French braid she’d just put in my hair. My eyes met hers in the mirror. They were the same shade of green as mine and we both had dark brown wavy hair. Everyone said I was the spitting image of her.
I stopped and thought about what she’d said. “Wait a minute. How could they both be my age?” My eyes widened. “Are they twins?”
“No. They’re cousins.”
“Oh.” My shoulders sagged in disappointment. Twins sounded like a lot more fun. They could fool people by pretending to be each other.
“Well, don’t you look pretty as a picture?” Derek said with a smile.
I forced a smile even though I was still annoyed about having to wear a dress.
“Derek gets