Killshot

Killshot (Icarus Series, Book One)

By Aria Michaels

Copyright 2014 Aria Michaels

Copyright

This book is an original publication of Aria Michaels. Killshot is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or have been adapted fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, alive or dead, as well as businesses, locations, groups, or organizations is purely coincidental. The publisher and author do not accept responsibility for any third-party website, social media personality or groups, or their content.

Copyright 2014 Aria Michaels

Edited by Claire Allmendinger of BNW Author Services

Cover Design: Kari Ayasha, Cover to Cover Designs

Rights

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without expressed written consent of the author and/or publisher. Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials. It is not only a violation of the author's rights, but of copyright law. Purchase only authorized editions.

Printed proudly in the United States of America

  

Chapter One 

"Take it, Beans," I pleaded.

My little brother stared defiantly down at the floor, refusing to accept his inhaler. I held it out to him again. He stubbornly pushed it away and crossed his arms over his chest. It killed me watching him suffer like this, tears rolling down his little cheeks as he struggled to breathe. A stray lock of wavy blond hair was plastered to his cheek.

I knew my little brother was angry; that he was scared and confused. I felt the same way, though I had not allowed myself the luxury of breaking down yet. Beans needed me, and I needed to be strong for him, especially now.

"Lucas Eric Larson," I yelled, grabbing him by his tiny shoulders.

He froze, his arms dropping limply to his sides as his eyes finally met mine. I knew that would get his attention. It had been five years since Beans had earned his nickname, and since then, I had used the name he had been born with only a handful of times. His bright green eyes stared up at me, glistening with unshed tears as his chest, rose and fell, rapidly.

"Take it," I repeated, holding the inhaler on my palm and blinking back tears. "Please, Beans."

He nodded slightly, and grabbed it from my shaking hand, his experienced little fingers curling expertly around the apparatus. He shook it vigorously, flipped the cap off, and took two slow pulls from the mouth-piece. His chest shook from the effort, but each breath that followed became easier, less raspy. I held his shoulders, breathing in rhythm with him as the heaving in his chest began to slow. After a couple minutes, his breathing was almost back to normal.

"Liv," he whispered, his small hand trembling in mine. "Livie, I'm scared."

"I know, buddy," I said, smoothing his hair away from his sweat-drenched face. "Me too."