Mykel: King's Descendants MC #3

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Mykel: King's Descendants MC #3 Page 16

by Bella Jewel

“Don’t tempt me.”

  “You can’t do this,” I say, my voice a little less hostile. “They’re my family. They’re all I have left.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Waverly. You’ve done enough of that. They’re getting exactly what they deserve. If they had stayed out of my business, none of this would have happened. They chose to involve themselves, and now they’re going to pay the price.”

  He doesn’t know I called Alarick.

  I hang onto that little piece of information.

  And then, I pray.

  17

  WAVERLY

  We arrive at Dax’s place, and as we do, I can hear the sirens in the distance. They’re probably a few minutes away, but not far. Dax drives me down the driveway, and then, with a grin that I’ll forever remember in my mind, he reaches over and opens the door. “Say hello to the cops for me, will you? I hope they enjoy your DNA all over Bennett. You’re not walking away from this either. Get out.”

  I stare at him. If I can distract him just long enough for the cops to arrive, I might very well be able to fix this.

  “No,” I say, my voice strong, unwavering. “If I’m going down, you are too.”

  He laughs. “I will shoot you, Waverly.”

  “Do it then.”

  I’m testing everything right now—praying that I’ve been right, praying that he’s actually felt something for me.

  He holds the gun to my forehead and presses the cold end against my skin. “Get out.”

  My lips tremble, but I hold his eyes. “No.”

  “I’ll fuckin’ kill you, Waverly,” he roars.

  “Then do it!” I scream. “Shoot me, Dax. I’m not getting out.”

  He stares at me, and I see a flash, just a flash, of uncertainty in his eyes. He pants and his hand shakes just a little. If I could guess right now, I’d say everything inside of him is telling him to shoot me, but his heart is stopping him.

  “Do it,” I whisper into the darkness. “Kill me.”

  With an angry growl, he lowers the gun. He lowers it and he shoves me so hard I fall backwards out of the car. I haven’t worn a seatbelt since we got back in, and I’m starting to regret that decision as I hit the dirt on the ground with a thud that knocks the wind out of me. I lie there, dazed and confused. The car moves. Dax reverses it so hard I have to roll quickly to ensure I’m not run over.

  Then, just like that, he’s gone.

  He could have killed me then. He could have taken my life and any information I had about him, and been done with it. It wouldn’t have mattered.

  But he didn’t.

  He didn’t shoot me.

  I was right. All along, I was right.

  Dax cared about me.

  I push to my knees as the sirens get closer, and it’s so dark I can’t see if anyone is still at the house. Dax didn’t drive all the way in—just enough that he knows I won’t be able to get back out before coming up against the cops. I lift to my feet, and the burn of broken flesh on my knees and my hands makes me wince in pain, even my back aches, but I don’t care.

  I stand and I run.

  I run with all my might towards the house.

  I get there just as Alarick, Mykel, Cohen and Bohdi are getting into the truck. They see me and they all stop, their faces scrunching slightly in horror.

  “Waverly?” Alarick asks, his voice rough. “Is that you?”

  “Waverly?” Mykel whispers, his voice horrified. He steps forward, reaching out for me but I’m too frantic. I’m too desperate for them to get the hell out of here.

  “Why are you still here?” I cry. “The cops are coming. You need to leave. Alarick, why are you still here?”

  He looks to me, and there is so much fear in his eyes. “We don’t have Kendric and Samson. They’re out there digging up fuckin’ Bennett’s body. They’re goin’ to get caught. We couldn’t fuckin’ leave them. We don’t leave a brother behind.”

  Oh god.

  No.

  No.

  This isn’t happening.

  Please god, this isn’t happening.

  THE SIRENS NEAR, AND I know the guys aren’t going to get out of here if they don’t go soon. I know where the body is; I’m the only one who does. Which means I need to be the one to find Kendric and Samson, and get them out of here before they get caught. Alarick doesn’t need to stay—none of them need to.

  “I’ll find them,” I say. “Go, now.”

  Alarick’s eyes narrow, and he shakes his head. “No.”

  “Alarick,” I yell, my voice frantic. “You cannot stay here. Stop thinking about me; think about your club. He’s set this up. You will all go down. You need to leave, and you need to do it now.”

  Alarick hesitates, but Cohen steps forward and grabs his arm. “She’s right. We gotta go Pres. If we stay, we’re all goin’ down.”

  “You’ll get caught,” Alarick growls. “You’ll get fuckin’ put away.”

  “I’ll get out,” I whisper hiss. “I’ll get out, I swear it. I know where that body is. You don’t. It makes sense for me to be the one to go. Now please, I’m begging you, leave.”

  “I’m stayin’ with her,” Mykel says, his voice hard. “I’ll make sure she gets out.”

  Alarick looks to him, and then to me, and then barks a curse. “You two get out of this, do you hear me? You make sure you come out.”

  I nod. “Go. Please.”

  Nodding, he gets in the truck with the others and within seconds, it speeds off down the driveway. Dax would be long gone by now. I turn to Mykel, and whisper, “You should have gone.”

  “Fuckin’ never. I’m not leavin’ you—not after everything you’ve done for us. Now, let’s find the guys before they get caught.”

  I nod, and using Mykel’s phone flashlight, we run towards the thick woods. We make it to a large barn in the paddock when the police cars arrive. Lights flash our way and Mykel grabs me, pulling me around the back of the barn and slamming my back against it.

  “What are you doing?” I cry.

  He presses a hand to my mouth, and panting, we both go silent. A moment later, torchlights flash past the barn and into the paddocks, and loud voices can be heard. If we don’t get into the woods soon, we’re not going to get Kendric and Samson out of this. Mykel releases my mouth and snarls low, “They’re lookin’ for us. We don’t have long.”

  When the light disappears, we move again, this time without our flashlight on. At least until we reach the woods. When we do, Mykel turns his phone torch back on and I rush down the path that leads to where we buried Bennett. I recall it pretty clearly; I have a good memory like that. Not to mention every now and then, I see the marks I left so I’d know how to find it again. Thinking of it now, that probably wasn’t the smart thing to do because the cops will be led right to the body.

  We run until we’re sweating and panting, a solid fifteen minutes. I recall having to help drag that body down here, and it wasn’t easy. I push the memory from my mind and finally, we reach the spot where Dax and I buried Bennett.

  Kendric and Samson are both hard at work, digging the body up. They’re covered in dirt and when they see us, they stop and their eyes narrow. “What’s goin’ on?” Kendric asks. “Why is Waverly here?”

  “The cops are here. It was all a fuckin’ setup,” Mykel tells them, his voice strained. “You gotta leave. You gotta get the fuck out of here.”

  “What?” Samson barks. “You’re fuckin’ joking?”

  Voices can be heard, seemingly getting closer. Police yelling to each other, though I don’t know what they’re saying.

  “We have to go,” I say, frantic. “If they find us here, we’re going to prison.”

  “We’ve got a body exposed,” Kendric growls. “I can see his fuckin’ arm. What do you want me to do with that?”

  “Leave it,” I say. “Just leave it.”

  “I can’t fuckin’ leave it. I need to fill it back in.”

  “She’s right; leave it. It doesn’t matter,
” Mykel tells him, looking behind him.

  “I have to clean up at the very least. Samson and I have been sittin’ here; I need to make sure nothin’ is left behind. You go. I’ll get out,” Kendric says, taking the shovel and shoving large scoops of dirt back onto the body.

  I feel sick.

  “I’m not leaving you here,” I cry. “Please Kendric, we have to go.”

  “Leave me here,” he growls. “Go. Now. I’ll get out.”

  “He’s right. We gotta go,” Mykel says, taking my arm. “Samson, let’s move.”

  “I’m not leaving him here!” I yell, jerking my arm from Mykel’s.

  Kendric walks over and looks down at me, his face hard. “Mykel will throw you over his fuckin’ shoulder and carry you out if you don’t do as I’m askin’ right now. Go. Get the fuck out of here. I’ll catch up.”

  I want to shake my head, to fight him, but I know there’s no point. Mykel will most certainly carry me out of here. I step forward and hug Kendric so tightly, it hurts my sore and damaged body. He hugs me back, and then Samson, Mykel and I start running.

  I know we’ll reach the fence boundary soon, and we’ll be able to get out. It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll make our way out before the cops find us.

  I just pray to god Kendric makes it too.

  Please, please let him make it out.

  It simply cannot end like this.

  18

  WAVERLY

  My whole body hurts. Every piece of me aches, right down to my toes, as we run through the thick woodland that makes up Dax’s property. Only when we reach a fence, and we know the cops aren’t close behind, do we stop and take a breather. We’re all panting, all of us exhausted, but I feel like my body just might not make it any farther. Once we’re at the road, we should be able to get a ride home.

  I just pray the cops aren’t there already, because if they see us like this, they’re going to know that we were in on this, and we’ll have nothing to fight back with.

  “I don’t know if I can run anymore,” I whisper, pressing my fingers to the dried blood on my face. The wound on my head hurts, god, does it hurt, and I want to curl up and feel sorry for myself, pretending none of this ever happened.

  “I can hear the road,” Samson says, his voice strained. “We’re not far.”

  “I’ll call Alarick, have him come get us,” Mykel murmurs.

  “Kendric hasn’t caught up,” I say, my voice shaky. “Do you think he’s okay?”

  “Kendric can take care of himself.” Mykel grunts. “We need to focus on getting out of here.”

  I nod, and rub my arms. I’m sweating, and yet I feel cold. My whole body is aching so badly I don’t think I can take another step. I know I have to, but everything inside of me is screaming just to lie down and be done with it.

  “Come on,” Mykel urges me, taking my arm gently. “We’re nearly there.”

  I take a step, and I can’t help the sob that rips from my throat. I’m in so much pain, but I’m not going to let it beat me. I take another step, and the sobs keep coming, but I don’t stop. I fight through every single bit of pain because I’m going to get out of here. Dax is not going to win. We’re going to be stronger than this.

  “I got you,” Mykel says, his voice kinder than I’ve ever heard it. “I won’t let you fall, you hear me?”

  He hooks his arm around my waist, and then, without being asked, Samson steps up to the other side of me and does the same. Together, they keep me moving. Together, they hold me up. Tears run down my cheeks at their sheer kindness, and when we finally reach the road, I don’t let Mykel go. Samson releases me and Mykel’s arm stays right where it is, and I turn my body slightly and hang onto him.

  He leans down, brushing a kiss across my head, and that kiss is everything.

  It’s everything.

  Ten minutes later, I see a truck slowing down and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s Alarick. So far, no cops have gone past, but that’s not to say we won’t run into them soon. We climb in, and as soon as we do, Alarick turns and his eyes scan over us. “Where’s Kendric?”

  “He’s coming,” Samson says. “He wanted to make sure nothin’ was left behind.”

  Alarick’s eyes flash, and he glances off into the woods. He’s concerned, we all are, but there’s nothing we can do right now. We need to get out of here.

  “We’re goin’ back to Mykel’s place. We’re goin’ to get rid of every single thing we’re wearing or have touched, and we’re goin’ to fuckin’ pray we’ve gotten away with this.”

  Nobody says anything the entire drive home.

  I press my cheek to Mykel’s shoulder and close my eyes. Over and over, I say the same prayer.

  When we arrive back home, Mykel helps me out of the car and before we’ve even reached the front door, Briella is running down the stairs. She reaches me and takes my face in her hands. “Oh honey, oh. Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” I tell her, my voice crackly. “I just . . . I just need to sit down.”

  “Come on. Let’s get you sorted out.”

  We all enter the house, where Cohen, Bohdi, Merleigh and Briella have been waiting. The moment they lay eyes on me, their faces fall. I know I look terrible, but judging by their expressions, it’s a whole lot worse than I’d first thought.

  Mykel turns to me when we’re in the light, and the second he sees me, his eyes flash with a rage that’s terrifying. “Waverly,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “Fuck.”

  “Is it that bad?” I ask softly, rubbing my arms.

  “What happened to you?” Alarick asks. “What did he do?”

  I stare down at my feet, and I tell them what happened. I tell them about the bathtub, and how he tried to drown me. I tell them how he slammed my head into the dash, and how I kicked him to get out of the car. I tell them every single horrible thing he said, and every single horrible plan he had.

  “Fuck,” Mykel barks, clenching his fists. “We should have killed that filthy fucker when we had the chance. I’ll make him suffer for this.”

  “He’s gone,” I whisper. “He’s skipped town by now, him and Peter. They’re long gone, thinking they’ve gotten away with their perfect little plan.”

  “Fuck,” Alarick barks, slamming his fist so hard into a lamp that it launches off the table and shatters onto the ground. Everyone goes silent. “I should have fuckin’ known. I should have fuckin’ picked it up. Fuck!”

  “It’s okay,” Briella says softly, taking his arm.

  He jerks it out of her grip and storms from the house, slamming the door so hard it nearly shatters. Briella looks to me, gives me a small smile, and then follows him out. I watch them go, and my heart sinks. I wish I had known. I wish I had figured this out earlier too. I wish we had realized just how manipulative Dax really is. Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this mess.

  “We need to get you cleaned up in case the cops show,” Mykel murmurs. “You might need a stitch in your head.”

  “We can’t go to the hospital,” I say softly. “If we do, and they find out . . .”

  “We don’t need to go to the hospital. I’ve got everything we need here.”

  Well.

  I’m sure that’ll be enjoyable.

  Mykel takes my arm and leads me down the hall to the bathroom, and once we’re inside, he walks over, leans down and begins running the water. I watch him, arms wrapped around myself.

  “Bath is going to be kinder on your sore body,” he says, standing upright and turning to me. “Let me know if you need a hand.”

  He goes to walk out, but in a soft voice, I call his name. He stops and turns back to me.

  “Please stay,” I whisper. “Please, don’t go.”

  His eyes hold mine, and he pauses for a moment. Then he takes a step forward and his hand reaches out and cups the side of my face. My heart pounds against my ribcage. He slowly releases me and takes hold of my muddy clothes, and gently, he undresses me. It hurts, every single piece of my body hur
ts, but knowing he’s here and taking care of me makes me feel so much safer.

  When I’m naked, he helps me into the bath, which is warm, but not too hot. I slowly sink down, and all the scratches, grazes and wounds on my body sting. I clench my eyes shut and hold my breath, knowing this is the best thing for me right now. Once I’m sitting fully in the bath, Mykel sits on the side and soaks a washcloth with some water before slowly starting the big job of removing all the blood, dirt and grime from my face.

  It takes a while, and it’s painful. Slowly, the bathwater turns an ugly shade of brown, a mix of blood and dirt. Mykel washes my hair, cleans me up, and then helps me out of the bath and into a fresh towel. “You’ve got some good scratches, but the one on your head is going to need a few stitches. You think you can handle that?”

  “After tonight, I think I can handle anything,” I say softly.

  He leads me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where he sits me on the end of the bed and tells me to wait while he gets me some clothes. A few minutes later, he returns with some pajamas and then he helps me into them. “Come downstairs. I’ll get you cleaned up. Goin’ to need a hand with the stitches; it’s goin’ to hurt.”

  “I know.”

  He steps forward again, taking my face in his hands and leaning down to kiss me. It feels so damned incredible, every part of me goes warm. I love knowing he cares, knowing that I matter in this moment, because god knows, I need to matter right now. After everything that happened, I need him.

  I just need him.

  THE MOMENT WE WALK out into the living area, I know something is wrong. I know it because Zariah is here, and she’s in uniform, and she’s got a look on her face that makes me sick. It makes my stomach turn and my chest tighten. Something has happened.

  She turns to me, and when her eyes go to my face, she looks absolutely gutted. She rushes over, and the moment she reaches me, she throws her arms around me and pulls me close. The hug hurts, but I need it. I hang onto her and she whispers ‘oh thank god’ a few times before pulling back.

 

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