by Nicole Helm
Brady loved all of his brothers—would fight next to, protect and die for every single one of them. But he and Gage had escaped the Sons together, thanks to Jamison. They’d been together from the very beginning, and no matter how old they got, there was a deeper bond or connection between them. They were twins.
The fact Gage was willing to keep part of the story a secret from their brothers only made Brady feel guilty that there were still things Gage didn’t know.
Brady didn’t like to deal in guilt—he refused to wallow in it. If a man was guilty, he needed to change his actions to not feel guilty anymore. Maybe there’d been reasons to keep Elijah a secret, but the reasons had lost their weight.
“I think I should tell them. Everything. Together. I don’t think Mak and I should stay here. I think we should hide. I just have to figure out how I can get him somewhere without being seen—and making sure Cecilia is okay.”
“Heard from her?”
Brady shook his head.
“I don’t like it. I know she can take care of herself, but I don’t like it.”
“Same, but I also know there’s no getting through to that hardheaded woman.” Brady didn’t know why she had to be contrary for the sake of being contrary, but he knew she would be. No matter what he said.
“Let’s set up a family dinner. Cecilia comes and you come. We find a way to hide Mak. If everyone descends on the ranch and there’s no baby—it’ll throw anyone off the sent.”
“But how do we completely hide the presence of a six-month-old?”
Brady looked down at the baby in the portable crib. Mak was still fast asleep, little fist bunched and tucked under his chin, knees bent but spread wide-open. Felicity had brought some clothes so he was wearing dinosaur footie pajamas.
Though he didn’t say anything, Brady could tell Gage was thinking about his future as a father.
“I hate to bring anyone else into it...”
Gage fixed him with a stern look. “I think you know everyone else would be more than happy to help keep that or any child out of the Sons’ clutches.”
Brady nodded. He knew it was true, but it was still against that moral compass he’d always listened to. Don’t bring more people than necessary into Sons danger. Especially innocent ones.
“Gigi has that doll she carries around. She was even pushing it around in a stroller last time she was at the ranch.” Brady shrugged away the guilt that was already poking at him. Gigi was four, and though she’d spent most of those four years in the Sons’ camps before Liza and Jamison had saved her, she didn’t deserve to be dragged back into it.
“Mak’s a bit bigger than a doll, but it’s not the worst plan,” Gage said thoughtfully. “Especially if it’s just between apartment door and truck. I bet Cody could find us a truck with tinted windows.” Gage rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
“I can—”
“You got a baby to take care of. You take care of him. I’ll take care of getting him to the ranch.”
Brady looked at Mak’s sleeping form. Completely and utterly defenseless. Brady might want to protect him all on his own, but this child deserved everyone he had in his arsenal.
“Let’s do it as soon as possible.”
* * *
THE NICE THING about Rachel staying with her was that Cecilia was so worried about Rachel, she didn’t have much worry left for herself. She spent a sleepless night checking and rechecking the doors and windows in her house to make sure they were locked.
Bleary-eyed the next morning, she subsisted off coffee—which she normally didn’t drink—and as much sugar as one human could possibly stand. She did a quick walk around the house looking for any more dead animals or threatening notes.
As she stepped back inside, Rachel was shuffling into the kitchen with a big, loud yawn. Rach had never been a morning person. Cecilia didn’t know why she’d taken a teaching job that required her to do most of her work in the morning, but she could only assume Rachel loved it.
When Rachel stayed with her, she usually walked to and from the school with her probing cane. Cecilia would feel better if she had a support dog, but Rachel had lost hers last year to old age and hadn’t had the heart to go through the process of trying to get a new one.
“I’m going to drive you in today.”
Rachel frowned as she deftly poured herself some coffee. “Why would you do that?”
Cecilia had prepared for that question, and still she winced. She hated to lie to Rachel. So she didn’t lie...exactly. “There’s been some stuff going on. Pranks most likely, but the kind that can escalate if given the opportunity.”
Rachel’s frown deepened. “That’s vague.”
“It’s a vague kind of thing. You’d probably be fine walking, but it’d make me feel better if I drove you.”
Rachel sighed a little, and Cecilia half expected her to press the matter.
“It’s too early to argue,” she said around another yawn. “But I’m walking back after my classes are done.”
Cecilia tried not to snap that it wasn’t an option. Compromise was the best bet when talking to a stubborn Knight woman—she should know. “Can you walk with someone? Maybe one of your older students?”
“If you really think it’s necessary.”
“I do.”
Rachel shrugged and sipped her coffee. “I’ll be ready in about twenty.”
While she waited, Cecilia rechecked the house to make sure it was all locked up. She called in on her radio to start her shift, and drove Rachel to the school.
The morning was warm but with a hint of a chill. Fall was starting its slow unfurling, usually Cecilia’s favorite time of year.
It wouldn’t be this year with Layla in the hospital and trying to keep Mak from Elijah and the state.
Cecilia pulled to a stop in front of the school, tried to bite her tongue and failed. “Don’t forget to have someone walk with you back to the house. Someone you trust,” she said as Rachel got out of the car.
Rachel paused. “You’re going to have to tell me what this is all about.”
“When I’ve got more information, I will,” Cecilia lied.
Rachel made a disbelieving sound, then closed the car door and walked toward the school. Cecilia watched until she disappeared inside.
Once she was sure Rachel was inside, she did her normal rounds. It didn’t appear she was being followed today, which was only a minor relief. Someone could start at any moment.
After her first call of the day, a minor vandalism situation that had been solved by involving the mother of the teenage perpetrator, she almost felt relaxed.
Of course, that was when she noticed her tail. She tried to act nonchalant, to keep doing her job, but every hour it was harder to pretend to be unaffected. If they were watching her, was Rachel safe? If they were following her, would Rachel be left alone?
If they were following her in particular, what would they do if they found her isolated and alone?
Nothing, because you’re a trained police officer carrying many weapons with which to defend yourself.
She wanted to believe that voice in her head, to feel sure of it, but she also knew she was one police officer. She didn’t know how many people were following her.
She got another call, this time a disturbance, and had to put her stalkers out of her mind while she tried to make peace between two neighbors fighting about property lines. It was an annoying, pointless screaming match—but it was her job to smooth it over.
It took a full hour, and her head pounded by the time she was walking back to her patrol car. People who couldn’t—wouldn’t—compromise always gave her a headache.
She glanced at her watch. Rachel would have walked to the house by now. Maybe Cecilia could drive by the house, just check in on her. Pretend like she’d forgotten her lunch and w
as grabbing a sandwich so Rachel didn’t get unduly worried.
The pounding in her head stopped, as did her breath and perhaps even her heart when she saw a piece of paper tucked under her windshield wiper. It fluttered in the breeze.
It could be anything, but Cecilia knew what it would be. Another note—sans dead animal this time.
Or so she thought, until she stepped closer to her patrol car. Under the wheel was a dead raccoon. As if she’d run it over.
But she hadn’t.
No, it was another sign. Another warning.
Steeling herself for another threatening note, Cecilia pulled a rubber glove out of the glove pouch on her gun belt. She picked up the note and read it.
She’s pretty.
Cecilia didn’t let herself react outwardly. Inside she was ice, her heart a shivering mass of fear and panic. But outside, her hands were steady and her gaze was cool. She slid into the patrol car and set the note carefully on the passenger seat, pulling off the glove as she did so.
She turned the ignition, calmly eased on the gas. Keeping her attention evenly split between phone and road, she clicked Rachel’s name on her phone screen and called.
The phone rang. And rang.
“Pick up,” Cecilia muttered, swearing when it went to voice mail.
She was tempted to increase her speed, fly through the rez to her house on the eastern edge.
The only she the note could refer to was Rachel. It was a threat against Rachel, and Rachel was alone. Cecilia should have predicted this. Should have insisted Rachel...
What? Not teach her class? Hide away? It wouldn’t have been a fair demand, but Cecilia still knew she should have done something.
Cecilia drove within the speed limit, watching her surroundings in case it was a trap. An ambush. Because threatening Rachel was only about getting to her. Rachel didn’t know anything.
Or would Elijah think she did?
Cecilia swore again, increasing her speed, though not enough to draw attention. She came to a screeching halt in front of her house. If anyone was watching or following, she’d broken her calm facade.
Since she already had, she raced inside, hand on the butt of her weapon. But Rachel was safe as could be, curled up on the couch, earbuds in.
She pulled one out and looked at Cecilia’s form with raised eyebrows. “Everything okay?”
Cecilia let out a ragged breath. This couldn’t go on. She knew Elijah was purposefully trying to scare her, and giving in to threats and scare tactics would give him what he wanted, but...
She couldn’t risk Rachel.
“I have to take you back to the ranch.”
“Cee, you’re being super weird this week.” Rachel’s expression wasn’t confused so much as concerned. “You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on.”
“I know. I know. Look... I’ll explain everything when we’re home. With everyone.” She had to fill everyone in on what was happening. It was the only way to keep Rachel and Mak safe. To make sure none of them were brought unwittingly into this.
Because Elijah was clearly ready and willing to threaten everything she loved. She didn’t have to live with threats. She should act.
“Let’s get to the ranch,” Cecilia said. “I just have to call someone to take the last two hours of my shift.”
“I can have Dad—”
“No. No, I’m taking you.”
“This is really bad, isn’t it?” Rachel asked, twisting her fingers together.
Cecilia didn’t mind lying to the people she loved if it saved them from worry, but she wasn’t sure she had that luxury anymore. “It could be, if I’m not very careful.”
Rachel slid off the couch, crossed the room and took Cecilia’s hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “Then let’s be very, very careful.”
Chapter Five
Brady had faced unhinged people with guns, big men so high on drugs nothing short of severe use of force would subdue them, and a slew of other scary, life-threatening situations in his tenure as a police officer and EMT.
He had been shot trying to save Felicity from her father, had hiked the Badlands trying to find his brother before Ace killed him. At eleven, he and Gage had almost been caught escaping the Sons.
Yet none of those instances had ever made him as bone-deep afraid as the one he found himself in right now. Even in the moment he and Gage had been found by a member of the Sons. Brady had been sure they’d be dead, but instead the man had let them go.
He’d been murdered days later.
Why this was more terrifying, Brady had no idea. Liza was buckling Mak into the doll stroller Gigi had happily pushed into his apartment. Gigi was now holding the doll, making funny faces at Mak in an effort to make him laugh.
Brady couldn’t say he’d been particularly welcoming when Liza had shown back up in their lives a few months ago. As the oldest brother, Jamison had gotten all of them out of the Sons before he’d saved himself. When he’d saved himself, he’d brought Liza with him. The Knights had taken her in and Brady had always assumed Jamison and Liza would live happily-ever-after.
He’d had to believe it was possible. Then Liza had left, gone back to the Sons, breaking Jamison’s heart. Brady had never let on how much that had affected him. He secretly wondered if they weren’t a little cursed by the Wyatt name.
It hadn’t helped when Cody’s girlfriend Nina, another Knight foster, had also taken off. Not to the Sons but to no one knew where.
A few months ago, Liza had reappeared, needing Jamison’s help to save Gigi, her half sister, from the Sons. A while after that, Nina had shown up, gunshot wound and all, needing Cody’s help to keep their daughter safe.
And somehow, they were all back together and happy with it. Like the time in between didn’t matter.
As an adult, Brady didn’t know what to make of it. How to reconcile the things he’d begun to think were impossible, with what was in front of him. Possible and growing.
“It’ll be fine,” Liza reassured him, likely misreading the course of his thoughts. “Gigi will be gentle.”
Brady had no doubt Gigi would handle this with the utmost care. Even at four, she’d dealt with more than most kids should ever handle. “He could make a noise.”
“He could,” Liza agreed, crouching to give Mak’s belly a tickle. The baby gurgled appreciatively. “But Gigi and I will be chatting loud enough to cover any baby sounds.”
Brady looked dubiously at Mak. He’d heard the boy scream pretty effectively for all manner of reasons, but he was freshly fed, changed, napped and seemed happy enough.
“I didn’t want to drag you and Gigi into this.”
Liza stood slowly, and she fixed Brady with a look. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you hardheaded Wyatts to realize we were there too. Even Gigi knows what it’s like in there. We’d always be part of helping someone stay far away from the Sons. No matter the risk. Because it’s always worth the risk to get out.”
Brady looked down at Gigi, who looked up at him solemnly. She was wearing a pink T-shirt that said Girl Power in sequins.
She knew too much for a girl of almost five. Brady knew, from his own experience, that escaping at eleven had given him a determination to help. And even as young as Gigi was, he saw that in her expression.
“All right. Let’s go.”
* * *
GIGI WAS GIVEN the stroller. Liza pulled the hood down so that it obscured all but Mak’s feet.
Gigi took her job as pusher very seriously, slowly and carefully pushing it forward. Mak babbled in baby talk, but Liza started talking over it. She asked Gigi about some TV show Gigi liked and Gigi began a monologue on the merits of each character.
God bless her.
He and Liza worked to carry the stroller down the stairs, Gigi admonishing them to be careful with her baby.
> They reached the tinted truck they’d borrowed for the occasion. Brady tried to search the perimeter without giving away that’s what he was doing. He didn’t spot anyone, but that didn’t mean they weren’t being watched.
“Now, you go on and get in your car seat,” Liza said to Gigi, helping her into the back seat.
“Make sure you buckle my baby in,” Gigi ordered sternly. She was an excellent actress, though she did give Brady a little wink as she scrambled across the back seat.
Liza sighed as if it were a silly request. “Dolls can’t get hurt, sissy. It’s a little silly to—”
“You have to buckle her in. Just like me,” Gigi insisted.
Liza rolled her eyes and nodded and bent down to pick up Mak. He made a little squealing sound, but Liza had angled her body so that it would be almost impossible for any watcher to see what was supposed to be a doll actually wiggle.
Gigi started singing the ABCs at full volume, clearly obscuring Mak’s noises.
Brady could only watch in awe as these two people managed to enact his plan even better than he’d imagined, and without a hitch.
“Hop in the passenger seat, cowboy,” Liza said as she closed the back door.
“I can drive.”
“No, you can’t.”
Brady scowled at Liza. “I’ve been cleared to drive.” His shoulder was feeling moderately better. He hadn’t even wanted to cut it off when he woke up this morning. It was possible the last round of antibiotics had worked.
Liza snorted. “My truck. I drive. Those are the rules, bud. Now, you can stay here, or you can come out to the ranch for some of Grandma Pauline’s potato casserole.”
She was still playacting, and continuing the argument would make it seem more important than it was. So he had to suck up his control issues and go to the passenger side.
If he grumbled to himself a little bit while he did it, no one had to know. He slid into the seat and closed the door and then let out a long breath. They’d gotten through one hard part successfully, he thought. Mostly because of the precocious little girl in the back seat.