Beautiful Sacrifice

Also by Jamie McGuire

ALSO BY JAMIE MCGUIRE

Providence (Providence Trilogy: Book One)

Requiem (Providence Trilogy: Book Two)

Eden (Providence Trilogy: Book Three)

Beautiful Disaster

Walking Disaster

A Beautiful Wedding (A Beautiful Disaster Novella)

Beautiful Oblivion (Maddox Brothers: Book One)

Beautiful Redemption (Maddox Brothers: Book Two)

Red Hill

Among Monsters (A Red Hill Novella)

Happenstance: A Novella Series

Happenstance: A Novella Series (Part Two)

Happenstance: A Novella Series (Part Three)

Apolonia

Beautiful Sacrifice by Jamie McGuire

Copyright © 2015 by Jamie McGuire

Copyright © 2015 by Jamie McGuire

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Chapter One

Too many people in a small room sounded a lot like the roar of a fire—the high and low inflections, the constant and familiar hum that only became louder the closer you got. In the five years that I’d waited tables for Chuck and Phaedra Niles at The Bucksaw Café, being around that many impatient, hungry people day after day made me want to torch the place at times. But the lunch crowd wasn’t what kept me coming back. It was the comforting drone of conversation, the heat of the kitchen, and the sweet freedom from the bridges I’d burned.

“Falyn! For fuck’s sake!” Chuck said, trying not to sweat in the soup.

He reached out his hand and stirred the broth in a deep pot. I tossed him a clean rag.

“How is it this hot in Colorado?” he complained. “I moved here because I’m fat. Fat people don’t like to be hot.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be working over a stove for a living,” I said with a smirk.

The tray felt heavy when I lifted it in my arms but not as heavy as it used to feel. Now, I could carry it with six full plates, if necessary. I backed into the swinging double doors, bumping my butt against them.

“You’re fired,” he barked. He wiped his bald head with the white cotton cloth and then tossed it to the center of the prep table.

“I quit!” I said.

“That’s not funny!” He leaned away from the heat radiating from his station.