A RAGING DAWN Read online

  A Raging Dawn

  Fatal Insomnia, Book #2

  CJ Lyons

  Contents

  A Raging Dawn

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  About the Author

  A Raging Dawn

  Fatal Insomnia, Book #2

  CJ Lyons

  LUCY GUARDINO THRILLERS:

  SNAKE SKIN

  BLOOD STAINED

  KILL ZONE

  AFTER SHOCK

  HARD FALL

  BAD BREAK

  LAST LIGHT

  DEVIL SMOKE

  OPEN GRAVE

  GONE DARK (coming 2017)

  * * *

  RENEGADE JUSTICE THRILLERS, featuring Morgan Ames:

  FIGHT DIRTY

  RAW EDGES

  ANGELS WEEP (coming 6/5/2017)

  * * *

  FATAL INSOMNIA MEDICAL THRILLERS:

  FAREWELL TO DREAMS

  A RAGING DAWN

  THE SLEEPLESS STARS

  * * *

  HART AND DRAKE MEDICAL SUSPENSE:

  NERVES OF STEEL

  SLEIGHT OF HAND

  FACE TO FACE

  EYE OF THE STORM

  * * *

  SHADOW OPS, ROMANTIC THRILLERS:

  CHASING SHADOWS

  LOST IN SHADOWS

  EDGE OF SHADOWS

  * * *

  CAITLYN TIERNEY FBI THRILLERS:

  BLIND FAITH

  BLACK SHEEP

  HOLLOW BONES

  * * *

  ANGELS OF MERCY MEDICAL SUSPENSE:

  LIFELINES

  WARNING SIGNS

  URGENT CARE

  CRITICAL CONDITION

  * * *

  YOUNG ADULT THRILLERS:

  BROKEN

  WATCHED

  * * *

  CO-WRITTEN WITH ERIN BROCKOVICH:

  ROCK BOTTOM

  HOT WATER

  * * *

  SINGLE TITLE STANDALONES:

  LUCIDITY, a Ghost of a Love Story

  BORROWED TIME

  * * *

  PRAISE FOR NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER CJ LYONS' THRILLERS WITH HEART:

  * * *

  “Everything a great thriller should be—action packed, authentic, and intense.” ~New York Times bestselling author Lee Child

  * * *

  “A compelling voice in thriller writing…I love how the characters come alive on every page.” ~New York Times bestselling author Jeffery Deaver

  * * *

  “Top Pick! A fascinating and intense thriller.” ~RT Book Reviews

  * * *

  “An intense, emotional thriller…(that) climbs to the edge of intensity.” ~National Examiner

  * * *

  “A perfect blend of romance and suspense. My kind of read.”

  ~New York Times Bestselling author Sandra Brown

  * * *

  “Highly engaging characters, heart-stopping scenes…one great rollercoaster ride.” ~Bookreporter.com

  * * *

  “Adrenalin pumping.” ~The Mystery Gazette

  * * *

  “Riveting.” ~Publishers Weekly

  * * *

  Lyons “is a master within the genre.” ~Pittsburgh Magazine

  * * *

  “A great fast-paced read….Not to be missed.” ~Book Addict

  * * *

  “Characters with beating hearts and three dimensions.” ~Newsday

  * * *

  “A pulse-pounding adrenalin rush!”

  ~New York Times bestselling author Lisa Gardner

  * * *

  “…Harrowing, emotional, action-packed and brilliantly realized.”

  ~New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs

  * * *

  “Explodes on the page…I absolutely could not put it down.”

  ~Romance Readers' Connection

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  Copyright 2015, CJ Lyons, LLC

  Edgy Reads

  * * *

  Cover art: Toni McGee Causey, stock photos courtesy of Serhii Vyblov and erllre / Dollar Photo Club

  * * *

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, Edgy Reads. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

  * * *

  CJ Lyons and Thrillers with Heart trademarked by CJ Lyons, LLC

  * * *

  Library of Congress Case Number 1-2699689901

  Fatal Insomnia Medical Thrillers

  * * *

  FAREWELL TO DREAMS, Fatal Insomnia Book #1

  A RAGING DAWN, Fatal Insomnia Book #2

  THE SLEEPLESS STARS, Fatal Insomnia Book #3

  Based on a real-life disease that promises a horrifying death, CJ’s Fatal Insomnia series chronicles one doctor’s search for redemption, hope, and an unexpected chance at love.

  She might be dying, but she’s finally learning how to live…

  CJ Lyons scores a major triumph. Totally absorbing and impossible to put down.” ~Douglas Preston

  Want to be the first to have a chance to read the new books? Sign up for my Thrillers with Heart newsletter HERE—and you’ll also get a free copy of the first Lucy adventure, SNAKE SKIN!

  Be sure to open the Thrillers with Heart emails; they’ll arrive every few weeks with info on contests, new books, and exclusive offers for my readers!

  Chapter One

  * * *

  To fear love is to fear life,

  and those who fear life

  are already three parts dead.

  ~Bertrand Russell

  * * *

  Living with lies means sleeping with fear. Or in my case, not sleeping and running away like a thief racing the dawn.

  The December moonlight eased its way through the sheer curtains of Ryder’s bedroom, as I scanned his dresser. I wanted to make certain I hadn’t left anything behind. It wasn’t as if I could nev
er come back if I forgot something, but I didn’t want to make assumptions. Or promises I couldn’t keep.

  Ozzie, the service dog who’d adopted me, looked up from where he lay in front of the door, blocking my escape. A sigh heaved through his body in the way only fat, pampered, well-loved Labs can sigh.

  “Hush,” I whispered, mindful of Ryder still asleep in the bed I’d just left. “I have to go.”

  He thumped his tail and looked at me with mournful eyes.

  “I know you miss her,” I said as I bent to tie my Reeboks. Ozzie’s owner, a ten-year-old girl named Esme, was away at school and had entrusted me with his care. It’s a long, complicated story involving a tragic love affair, a ruthless billionaire, a vicious gang leader, and a serial killer stalking the city.

  My life used to be so simple: go to work in the ER, play my fiddle, eat a little humble pie at family meals, repeat. But in the last three weeks, my existence had spiraled from one complicated story into another to the point where it was becoming difficult to remember which were lies and which were secrets.

  Not after today. My shoulders slumped as I turned back to the bed one last time. Today was the day the truth would come out and I could walk away from my life. Maybe to Tahiti. Probably to Tahiti. Most certainly alone. I told myself that’s always been the way I wanted it: no strings, no debts, no heartbreak.

  Well, maybe this time, a little heartbreak.

  My gaze fell on the sleeping man I’d left behind. I wanted…I wished…

  The numbers on the nightstand clock blinked. Three twenty-one. I spotted my cell phone beside it. Instead of reaching out to Ryder, sleeping deeply, as any sane person would be this hour, I grabbed my phone. No assumptions, no promises. Not today, when I’d be learning for sure if there’d be any tomorrows for Ryder and me.

  He’s a detective, assigned to Good Samaritan’s Advocacy Center where I used to be an ER physician. We met only three weeks ago, but you’d be amazed at how much you can pack into three weeks when you agree to not talk about the past or the future, and one of you is recovering from a minor bullet wound, while the other is hiding from a death sentence.

  A tremor shook my free hand, and I clenched it into a fist, smothering it inside the pocket of my hoodie. At least I had Tahiti…

  Tahiti wasn’t me giving up. I was going to fight for every moment I could. Rather, it was a promise. I might be dying, but death would not define me. I was going out when I decided and how I decided, disease be damned.

  Except…Ryder. A complication almost as unexpected as my one-in-a-hundred-million diagnosis. I couldn’t allow myself to want or need Ryder more than I already did. Sex was something we could both walk away from without getting hurt.

  I stood there, staring, phone in my hand, watching him sleep, yearning to reach out and comb his hair back from his eyes. Ryder doesn’t snore; the sound he makes is more a constant rumble like a furnace running hot. After I left his warm embrace, he’d curled up on his side, one fist tucked under his chin like a baby.

  Not that I’d ever tell him that. In addition to being a detective, facing the worst the streets of Cambria City have to offer, Ryder had been to war in the early days in Afghanistan. Yet, he still projects an aura of untarnished innocence. Not naïveté, definitely not. More like he’s seen it all—the good, the bad, and the ugly—and has somehow risen above.

  It took all my strength to turn away from him now. Ozzie raised his head, shaking it, the fairytale wise man warning me to turn back before it was too late. Except this was no fairytale.

  The phone in my hand rang. A cheerful ring tone crashing through the night like a battering ram. I didn’t have to look to know Ryder was awake. Fully alert, the way cops and soldiers and ER doctors woke, instantly and ready for anything.

  I also didn’t have to look to know who was calling. “Are you okay?” I answered.

  “There are footsteps. In the hall. They keep coming and going.” Tymara Nelson’s voice stretched tight with fear, ready to break.

  I sagged onto the bed, my back to Ryder, but I felt his warmth as he shifted to sit up behind me. He settled one hand on my shoulder, a gift of encouragement and understanding.

  “Did you actually see anyone? Did they stop at your door?” The first four times Tymara had called like this, I’d sent the cops to check on her. The next, I’d called Devon Price, the owner of the Kingston Tower apartments where she lived, and he’d ordered his men to watch over her. But Devon’s former gang members had made her too nervous, and so she’d sent them away. Not that I blamed her for being nervous about testifying, but there wasn’t much more I could do to help.

  “No. When I look, there’s no one there.” A strangled cry emerged with her words. “But I know it’s them.”

  Seven months ago, Tymara had been viciously attacked. A man she barely knew had raped her at knifepoint. Then, he’d blindfolded and bound her and invited others into her apartment to do worse. They’d left her for dead after a night filled with degradations that were unimaginable—unless you were the ER doc performing her forensic exam and taking her history after she miraculously survived.

  Tymara didn’t sleep much anymore. If I hadn’t convinced her that the conviction of the one man the police had caught would be our best chance to get him to reveal the names of his partners in crime, she wouldn’t even be testifying today. In the six months since he’d been arrested and placed behind bars, there’d been no actual threats against her, but that didn’t stop her middle-of-the-night phone calls to me.

  “It’s going to be all right, Tymara.” I kept my tone soothing and gentle as I lied to her. I’d dealt with enough victims to know it would never be all right, but things would—could—get better. “I’ll come over.”

  “No. No.” She blew out her breath. “I’m fine. It’s all in my head, I know. I just needed—”

  “I don’t mind. Whatever you need. I can come to your place, or I can call the police—”

  Cambria City barely had enough funds to keep the police department functional, much less provide anything extravagant like witness protection, but Ryder had friends who owed him. He’d offered to watch over Tymara himself, even though he didn’t start his new position at the Advocacy Center until today and technically, this wasn’t his case. He still felt a sense of ownership. Tymara was one of our victims, which meant we’d do whatever it took to bring her the justice she deserved.

  “No.” Her tone was firmer now, filled with hope that this would all soon be over and she could reclaim her life. “I’ll be all right. It’s only for a few more hours.”

  “I’ll be there by eight thirty to pick you up.” Today was the second day of the trial; administrative issues and the testimony of police officers and lab techs had consumed the first.

  “I go after you, right?”

  “No. I think Manny decided to start with you before lunch. And then me after.” Manny Cruz was the ADA prosecuting Tymara’s rapist, Eugene Littleton.

  “Right, right. I remember. He’ll be there? In the same room?” She meant Littleton.

  “Yes. But you don’t have to look at him. You’ve met Manny, just focus on him.”

  “You won’t be there?” She was twenty-three, but the uptick in her voice made her sound like a little girl.

  We’d gone through this dozens of times. I’d walk her through it a dozen more if it helped to ease her fears. “I’ll be waiting outside. I can’t come in, not until after I’ve testified.”

  “Right. Sequestered. That’s what Mr. Cruz said. He’s nice, don’t you think?”

  Actually, I didn’t. Manny Cruz was one of those competitive types who measure every encounter as a win or loss—and he liked to win, no matter the cost. Which made him the perfect prosecutor for this case. Once he won and Littleton was convicted, Manny would go after everyone else involved, knowing that with Littleton’s testimony in exchange for a lighter sentence, they’d all be easy wins.

  Whatever it took. “Sure you don’t want me to come over?” Ry
der squeezed my shoulder, offering his own services. It scared me that in only three weeks we didn’t need words. It had never been that way with my ex, Jacob, and he and I had been married two years.

  Tymara’s voice drifted drowsily. “No. Really. I’m fine now. I’m going to go back to bed. Thanks, Dr. Rossi.”

  “No problem at all. Let me know if you change your mind. See you soon.” I hung up.

  “Coming or going?” Ryder asked from behind me, his breath stirring the small hairs on my neck. His tone wasn’t judgmental. Ryder never judged me, not even at times like this, when he had every right to.

  I slid free of his warmth, stood, and steeled myself against the cold. “What do you mean?”

  “Where do you go after I fall asleep? Even if I wake up in the morning and you’re still beside me, I can tell you’ve been gone during the night.”

  It was a valid question. What kind of woman used a man for sex and every pleasure imaginable, but couldn’t remain in his bed for a full night?

  Answer: the kind of woman whose brain is half-rotted by warped proteins known as prions.

  Whatever my final diagnosis turned out to be, my brain was literally burning itself out. Which scared the hell out of me. And yet, during my time with Ryder, waiting for my lab results, I couldn’t help but convince myself that at any moment I’d get a call from the hospital telling me that they’d made a dreadful mistake, that everything was going to be just fine.