Kiel grabbed the gun, rolled onto his back, and squeezed off three rounds. “In the car, right fucking now,” Kiel said, but I wasn’t sure who he expected to listen to him.
My body shook, and I couldn’t make my fingers move correctly. The door handle was too slick, the action to pull it too complicated especially when Arturo struggled, crawling on an elbow to open the door. “Cara, move!” Kiel shouted, tugging me up with one hand and stuffing Arturo into the front seat with the other.
There was so much blood on the beige leather in my car, and my driver wheezed and coughed as he leaned against the headrest. “Padre nostro, che sei nei cieli, sia santificato il tuo nome,” he started, and tears burned and blinded my eyes as I recognized the Our Father whispering in a rush from his mouth.
“Arturo, don’t…” I tried, surprised my voice sounded frantic. “I won’t allow you to start preparing for things that aren’t coming!” I glanced around us on the street, willing Kiel to hurry to the other side of the car and get in the driver’s seat. As a distraction, I pulled a handkerchief from my bag, holding it tight over the gunshot right at Arturo’s collarbone.
“Padre nostro, che sei nei cieli,” he started again, and I could only join him, figuring it couldn’t hurt to ask for a little help.
It felt like an hour and half a second and a thousand years since we’d stepped out of the car and into an ambush.
Logically, I knew it was no time at all, and I exhaled the breath I’d been holding when Kiel finally jumped into the driver’s seat, grabbed the key from Arturo’s outstretched hand, and tore down Fifth Avenue.
“Are you hit?” he asked me, voice panicked as he glanced at my driver then back to me. “I can’t stop to check, Cara. You have to tell me. Check yourself out…”
“I’m…fine,” I said, head shaking when he reached an arm back toward me, grabbing my leg like he needed to touch me to see if I was still warm and alive and not bleeding to death on the sidewalk.
“Get your phone. Call Johnny. Put it on speaker.” He bypassed two cabs as they tried blocking his attempt to merge. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see if anyone had gotten in his way. “Cara…”
“I don’t know where…” The weak response came out in a sob, and my entire body shook.
“Check your bag. Do it now, baby.” His grip turned viselike on my legs, and I used my free arm to dig through my bag, emptying it onto the seat. My phone was at the bottom, and I grabbed it, thumbing through my recent texts, Arturo’s blood smearing over the screen.
“Yeah?” My brother answered after two rings, his voice quiet but amused.
“Carelli, this is Kiel,” he said as I held the phone up. “We got hit.”
“Madonn’!” The amused tone was replaced by breathy panic as Johnny moved. The sound of his feet pounding came through the receiver same as his cursing and shouted oaths and demands as he moved. “Cara?”
“I’m here, ciccio. I’m fine… I just…” My voice was weak, terrified-sounding, I was sure. I held on to Kiel’s fingers as he gripped my knee.
“Cazzo,” Johnny answered, his voice cracking and his breath panting now. “Where are you? Oddio, you tell me now.”
“You still got a plane for the museum?” Kiel asked, glancing from the street in front of him to the rearview. There were sirens in the distance, but no one followed us.
“We do.”
“Meet me at the airport.”
“Where are you taking my sister?” My brother had stopped running, and the loud rev of a car accelerating muffled his question.
Kiel glanced at me in the mirror, his eyes wide but fierce.
He looked determined.
He looked in control, and with that one look, I knew he would protect me.
Damaged marriage or not.
Betrayal or not.
Kiel would protect me.
He tightened his hand on the steering wheel and pushed down on the gas, answering my brother’s question as though it was an afterthought. “I’m taking her to the only place that’s safe right now.”
11
Kiel
Gangsters weren’t stupid.
They’d be shitty at their jobs if they were.
Vinnie, and I’d bet my left nut that that asshole was responsible for the attack on us, wasn’t a stupid gangster either.
We couldn’t just book a hotel and hide out in Seattle until shit got sorted.
Money bought power.
Power created control, and that bastard had a lot.
Much as I hated it, we’d have to hide.
That took effort.
There was no quick escape or quicker exit once we landed.
Seattle was a city.
It had space and people. A clutter of distractions that would make us vulnerable. But Seattle wasn’t where we needed to be. To get to that place, it would take time and a hike I wasn’t sure Cara was up to.
“You’re kidding, yeah?”
“Nope.”
The jeans were her size, I knew that. No one knew that ass like I did. While I hadn’t seen much of it in the past five years, I’d recently gotten reacquainted. The hips were still wide, the ass plump and perfect.
Size eight, easy. The boots, though…
“You can’t expect me to trek up a mountain…”
She shut up when I yanked the hiking boots out of her hands, frowning at her attitude. The princess was resurfacing, and that asshole was pissing me off.
“You think that bullshit back in New York was a joke?” She shook her head and dropped the boots onto the floor of the truck Kane had left for me at the airport because the paparazzi was still breathing down his neck.
I grabbed her wrist, waving her own fingers at her. The tips were still stained with Arturo’s blood despite the half hour Cara had spent in the airplane bathroom.
“This isn’t from finger painting. These motherfuckers want me dead, and they don’t seem to care in the least if you get mixed up in that shit.” She blinked at me, and I pushed back the quick urge that came over me to touch her.
It was her fault, all of this. If scaring her got her dressed and up the mountain faster, I’d do it.
“Either get dressed, put on the damn boots, and follow me, or you can stay here and let Vinnie and his assholes bring you back to your father’s. I’m sure that’ll be fun for you.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“Doesn’t matter what you meant, Cara.” I tugged on the sweatshirt my brother had left for me in the cab of the truck and didn’t look at her. “Just hurry the hell up.”
The truck was older. Probably an early eighties Ford that I bet Kane had borrowed from someone on his crew. It got us from the airport and to the dirt road that hid our family’s generous cabin. No trucks. No cars. Nothing but your feet and a little effort hauling up any supplies you’d need and you’d be there.
Kane and I had bought it ten years ago. Our mother’s anxiety had worsened living in the city, and she wanted quiet, woods, and enough stars overhead that wouldn’t be lost in the chaos around her in Seattle. She couldn’t handle the hike, so Kane kept several ATVs chained and covered in a small shed near the bottom of the trail where a large, flat ridge had been cleared. The ATVs were gone. All up at the cabin, waiting for me to call for a ride, but I thought the princess could use the wilderness, and I’d feel better after the long walk.
Cara dressed in silence while I pulled on my boots and grabbed the backpack from the bed of the truck. Kane had outfitted it with plenty of supplies—flashlights and batteries, water bottles, and a compass watch with GPS altimeter, barometer, and thermometer that glowed yellow in the dimming light. There was also a burner phone, a handful of protein bars, and a first aid kit.
Maybe it was a little overkill, but Kane liked to be prepared. He liked me to be prepared too, but I could never quite get up to his level with that shit. My brother had also left me his Glock and a box of ammo. Wasn’t sure if that was meant for shooting any animals that got in our way or the
animals who’d already tried to kill us, but there wasn’t time to think about it. He also left me, if the two pickups were any indication, some backup. Kane’s own Ford and Dale’s Chevy were parked next to my truck on the ridge across a small grouping of trees that hid the ATV shed. That asshole had my back, and apparently, so did his friend.
“The coat’s a little big,” Cara admitted, coming around to the back of the truck where I’d pulled down the tailgate. She glanced up at the sky, then tilted her head toward the trail that started on the other side of the ridge where I’d parked the old truck. “It’ll be dark soon.”
I knew that. I did have eyes. “That happens every night.”
“Well, I just mean, how are we going to manage…in the dark?”
“A few hours in the dark won’t kill you,” I snapped, tucking the gun in my waistband before I slid on the backpack. My voice was sharp, and when Cara glanced at me, exhaling a long breath, I realized my attitude wasn’t needed.
Hadn’t I apologized to her this morning? Hadn’t I promised I’d never treat her like I had the other night in my hotel room? Now I was biting her head off for asking questions.
Sensible questions that anyone born and raised in the city might have when faced with worn jeans, hiking boots, and a climb up mountainous terrain.
Pushing back my irritation, I stood in front of her, adjusting the lining on her coat and refastening the buttons so it fit more snugly around her small waist. “It’ll get cold quick, but moving will keep us warm.”
She nodded but didn’t speak, going still as I pulled up her hood and slipped a small flashlight in her front pocket. When I made to pull away, Cara stopped me with her gloved fingers around my wrist. “I wasn’t trying to be a brat,” she admitted, moving her gaze up to look me square in the eyes. “I…I’ve never been in a situation like this, and I gotta admit…I’m out of my element.” Cara nodded around us, to the trees and darkening sky, then she jerked her eyes at the noise of what sounded like an owl hooting above us.
“Nature?” I said, not keeping the laugh out of my voice. “I know damn well this isn’t your element.”
“Yeah, well, I’m more of an urban jungle woman.” She squeezed my hand, attention again flying around and above us. “You sure you know how to get us to this cabin?”
“I could do that blindfolded.”
“Yeah,” she started, pulling the flashlight from her pocket as she followed me to the trail. “Let’s not do the whole blindfolded hiking thing.”
* * *
She was winded quickly, something that boggled my mind. “Drink slower,” I told her, handing her another water bottle. Her small panting had me stopping ten minutes away from reaching the cabin. “You’ll get sick if you down it too fast.” She ignored me, taking long gulps like she hadn’t had water in a month. My low laughter caught her attention, and Cara held the bottle near her mouth, holding it still as she glared at me.
“What?” she asked, the word breathy.
“I’ve seen you tackle ten blocks in four-inch boots, carrying a heavy Chanel bag over your shoulder and a large Triple Mocha Frappuccino in your hand, and not break stride. But this?” I waved my own bottle around us as we sat near the edge of the trail catching our breaths. “This has you all out of breath?”
Cara kicked me with the tip of her boot, and I laughed harder, earning a middle finger from my wife. “Hello, it’s up a mountain in the cold. Not remotely the same terrain as the Upper West Side.” She slumped, shoulders lowering as she messed with the label on the water bottle. “Besides, I’m never…scared in New York.”
Something happened to her expression then. Something that had me dropping any humor I still felt at her ridiculous shallow breaths. We’d put the mountain and miles between us and the shooting, a trek that did the job of distracting us, but that didn’t mean in moments like this Cara wasn’t still messed up a little by what had gone down.
She didn’t say anything as I slipped next to her, forgetting the backpack and water bottle to pull her against me with one arm over her shoulder. “Don’t be scared, Little Goddess. I’ve got you.”
“You say that, but what if…” She went quiet again, head shaking. I did what I always did when Cara was nervous or worried or so frustrated she couldn’t see straight. “Kiel…” she started, then shut up completely when I lowered my mouth to hers and kept her head still with one palm against her cheek.
Cara had promised she didn’t want to sleep with me. She’d sworn this morning that she’d never ask to be in my bed again. But the way she kissed me back, the slow, deep push of her tongue against mine, how she arched toward me, taking as much as I gave, told a different story. I wanted to kiss her to keep her calm. I wanted my mouth and breath to ease away the worry that had morphed into dread and fear. Maybe it worked. Maybe it backfired. I only knew that if I went on kissing her, if she kept kissing me back like she was, then our trek up the mountain would go even slower.
It hurt like hell to back away from the sweet taste of her, but I manned up and did the right thing.
“Kiel…”
“Goddess…”
“Fuck’s sake, I think I might puke.” I heard, jumping to my feet when the voice shot out from the trail then traveled closer. My brother was an asshole. If I didn’t know it from past experience, I’d get the impression from that smirk on his face, the same one cracking over his friend Dale’s stupid mug too.
“The fuck are you doing?” I asked, relaxing the grip I had on the Glock at my waistband when those two assholes came nearer.
“Escorting you,” Dale offered, still grinning. He at least kept his attention around us and not on me or Cara like my brother.
“You took too damn long,” Kane said, standing in front of me long enough to nod and slap my shoulder. “Figured you were close, though.” He turned his phone, grinning at the green and white tracking app with my number and “Little Asshole” for my name at the bottom of the screen. Asshole was tracking me the whole time. When I only glared at him, Kane laughed, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. “Come on. Stop making out with your woman, and let’s get up to the cabin. Kit’s made enough food for an army.”
Kane didn’t wait for me to ask a bunch of dumb questions, like What the hell are you doing here? or Why the hell are Dale and Kit with you? Instead, my brother nodded at my backpack, then to the empty water bottles—a silent demand that I pack up my shit and not leave trash on the ground, before he and Dale started back for the trail, their flashlights shifting around the path and to the surrounding woods.
I didn’t argue. I didn’t get mad that my brother had brought along company to the cabin when I hadn’t wanted anyone there. I didn’t do anything but follow Kane as he led us up the trail. I followed because that’s what my brother expected.
Smug bastard.
12
Kiel
The rest of the hike was quiet, except for Kane drilling Dale about Gin.
“Shit or get off the pot,” Kane told his friend, earning a quick glare from the SEAL. Dale could cut one look that would leave most men nervous, but Kane knew the guy. He knew when he’d pushed too many buttons. My brother wasn’t remotely done with that shit.
“The hell are you talking about?”
Kane sighed, head shaking like he couldn’t believe how dense his friend was. “Funny, you don’t look that dumb or blind.”
Dale turned, jaw clenched, looking big and brutal as he faced my brother. “Fuck you, asshole…”
“I’m not the one who wants you to fuck them.”
He meant Gin, and Dale knew it. Hell, I’d only dropped by the set a handful of times, and I still knew how bad the woman wanted him. Dale ignored the comment, flipping the bird at Kane before he walked ahead, my brother’s laugh trailing behind him.
The hike served a greater purpose than Kane having the chance to fuck with his friend’s head. It gave Cara the opportunity to get calm as we moved up the trail. Her expression was somber, a little sad, but she didn�
��t complain.
For me, the silence and darkness, the monotonous movement of putting one foot in front of the other, served only to put me back on that sidewalk, cold and more terrified than I’d ever been in my life with Cara’s trembling body under me.
Even in the dark, 2,850 miles from that Fifth Avenue sidewalk, I could still feel the sticky weight of blood on my fingers. The guy had sneered at me. An honest to God sneer like we were disgusting insects he took immense joy exterminating.
There was no choice.
No thought.
He’d already shot at us.
He’d already hit the driver.
He wouldn’t get a chance at Cara.
One minute he was there, that asshole, full of hate and violence, likely getting off on the damage he’d done. The next, there was nothing in his eyes at all. Just the blank nothingness and an open gaze that would never see anything at all again.
Dead. At my hands.
That had never happened to me before.
By the time we made it to the cabin, the teasing Kane had delivered to Dale was gone and the realization of what had happened to us descended like a haze that filled every available space in the small cabin.
“Kiel,” Kit greeted as we walked inside, pulling me into a hug I gladly took.
“Kit,” I returned, pulling back to nod at my wife. “This is Cara.” She was tired, that much I made out as she tried giving Kit a weak smile. She didn’t bother pretending to be polite when Gin walked into the kitchen with a case of Bud in her hands.
Like clockwork, Dale met her by the island, tugging the beer from her arm despite her small protests. “Kiel,” she said, her wide smile almost was warm as Kit’s. “I’m so glad y’all made it.”
The women were more welcoming than Kane and Dale had been, but then, most guys I knew didn’t fawn over their family and friends when they’d delivered shit right on their front steps.
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