Relentless

by Sybil Bartel

I never lost my temper… not until I was in the lawyer’s office for the divorce settlement and Leo told his lawyer he wanted a seat on the board of directors for my charity. Because, according to him, he’d been the mastermind behind it. I lost it that day in the lawyer’s office—in a silent, seething, refusing to speak, stand up and walk out way. I was so angry, I’d refused to negotiate.

  But this? What Thomas had said? It was a thousand times worse.

  I was on my feet before I knew what I was doing. I was out the door and at the top of the stairs before I could think it through.

  And I was yelling down at Thomas before I had a chance to realize how selfish I was being. “If your common sense was half as large as your ego, you’d know I don’t pity a damn thing about you!”

  His huge booted feet hit the ground, but he didn’t even pause. “Save it for someone who gives a fuck, sweetheart.” Biting out the last word, he used the term of endearment as a weapon.

  Crushing hurt mixed with self-righteous anger, and my chest felt like it was caving in. “You’re a coward, Thomas Knight! You’re the one who’d lied to me! You did all this. You don’t get to walk away angry from me!”

  A black Escalade came down the driveway and pulled up next to Thomas.

  He didn’t even glance at it. Turning, he leveled me with a glare that almost knocked me to my knees. “I did this?” he roared as the driver door opened. “Did I hold you down and fuck you too?”

  The man, Shade, from the hospital stepped out.

  My mouth opened but nothing came out.

  “What’s wrong, Fallon?” Thomas taunted, completely ignoring the fact we had an audience. “My words too crude for you, or is it just me? I was good enough for you to fuck last night, but now that you know who I am, I’m shit? Is that it?”

  Shade looked between us, then crossed his arms and stared at me.

  I was done. With everything. “You certainly know how to make a spectacular fool of yourself.” Pivoting, I walked back into his apartment, and because I had no dignity left, I slammed the door.

  My misery knowing no bounds, I went for my purse and yanked my cell phone out. Powering up, it had barely come to life when the texts started streaming in. Dozens of them, mostly from Summer, with a few from Leo thrown into the mix, because this had become my life.

  Summer: Where the HELL r u?

  Summer: This isn’t a joke. I told u I was coming over and you have a guard parked outside ur house? Seriously??? Did it even occur to you to tell the dumb shit to watch the back of the house? He needs to get a clue, and if you even THINK about telling one of those Luna fuckers to grab me and take me back to rehab, I WILL FUCKING SHOOT THEM!!!!!

  Summer: Call me back RIGHT NOW!!!!!

  Summer: I need the goddamn laptop, Fallon!!!!!!!!

  Summer: I’m calling Leo. Where TF are you??WHERE THE FUCK IS MY LAPTOP???

  Leo: Summer says you took something of hers?

  Summer: You’re going to regret this Fallon. BIG TIME.

  Leo: Where are you? Call me, Fallon.

  Summer: JFC ANSWER YOUR PHONE

  I deleted all the texts. Then I dialed the only number I could think of.

  André Luna answered on the fourth ring. “Luna,” he clipped as voices sounded in the background.

  “It’s Fallon Amherst.”

  “Hold.”

  “Okay.”

  I heard shuffling, a car door open and close, then he came back on the line. “Where’s Knight?”

  “Outside,” I admitted. “But I can’t stay here.”

  “Why?”

  There was no intonation in his voice, and I didn’t know how to take it. He saw what had happened this morning in front of his office. I shouldn’t have to explain, but apparently my humiliation wasn’t complete.

  Refusing to be a victim, I put some backbone into my voice and admitted the truth. “I slept with him last night.”

  “Doesn’t make him any less qualified to protect you.”

  Fighting for patience, I tried to remain calm. “I’m asking for a favor, André. Can you please come pick me up and take me home?”

  André exhaled. “Look, Fallon. I know you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye over the years, and I apologize for my part in any of that. Your ex-husband was, and still is, my client. I know the struggles you’ve been through with your ex, and I have nothing but respect for you. That said, even if I wasn’t neck deep with Miami PD and two dead bodies in a hospital parking lot, I would not take you back to your house while there are men out there who shot at you for reasons even I can’t quite figure out right now. So unless there’s a compelling reason why you can’t let Knight keep you safe tonight, then—”

  “Summer stole Julio Estevez’s laptop and I have it.”

  Silence. Then, “Come again?”

  “Summer showed up at my house Saturday with a laptop she tried to hide in an ottoman and told me she’d be back for it.”

  “Jesucristo.”

  “I’m assuming it belongs to Julio Estevez. She’s been trying to get it back from me since early this morning, but I haven’t been home, and apparently you have a man stationed at my house. Regardless, the laptop isn’t at my residence anymore, and I suspect Summer wants to trade it for drugs.”

  “Where is Summer right now?” André demanded.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Where’s the laptop?”

  “In my car.”

  “Mierda. You have the keys?”

  Another call came through, and I glanced at the display. “Yes, I have the keys, but my car is parked outside Club Frenzy, and Summer is calling me right now.”

  “Don’t answer her yet. Who else knows you have the laptop?”

  “Just Summer, and now you.”

  “When did you turn your phone on?”

  “Just now, right before I called you.”

  “Mierda. All right, listen carefully. You’re going to hang up and immediately shut the phone down. Then find Knight ASAP. Understand?”

  “You’re scaring me,” I admitted.

  “Chica, you should be scared. They could be tracking your phone right now and lifting your location. You’re no longer secure there, and we’re done talking on this line. Shut your phone down right now. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up.

  ARMS CROSSED, SHADE STARED AT me. “How old are you?”

  “Fuck off.”

  He glanced up the stairs where Fallon had just slammed the door. “You know who she is?”

  “Do I look stupid?” I growled.

  “You really want me to answer that? Because from where I’m standing, you just let the hottest supermodel of this century walk—”

  “Say one more word about her, and I’ll pound your fucking face in.”

  Shade snorted. “You could try.”

  The mood I was in, I wouldn’t try. I didn’t give a shit he had thirty pounds on me and was a couple inches taller, I’d take him. He was a decade older at least.

  Shade tipped his chin at me. “Why aren’t you armed?”

  My hands went to my hips, and I glared at him. “My gun’s in the Escalade because no one knows where the hell I live. I know who the fuck Fallon Amherst is, and I’m twenty-three. Any other questions?” I challenged.

  “Yeah.” He glanced around. “How’d you afford this place?”

  “I worked for it.”

  Expecting him to talk more shit, he surprised the hell out of me by slapping me on the shoulder. “Good job, kid.” He scanned the long driveway. “You got any security besides the cameras on the house and barn?” He nodded at the open front gate. “Can you close that remotely?”

  Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I pulled up the app that monitored my security. I was about to close the gate when my cell rang. Swiping across the screen, I took Luna’s call.

  “What’s up?”

  “You need to relocate, STAT,” Luna clipped.

  I glanced at Shade, and his hand went to his gun in the holster on his waist. “Wha
t’s going on?” I asked Luna.

  “Summer stole Estevez’s laptop and stashed it at Fallon’s a few days ago. I’m assuming that’s what she was gonna trade to Estevez’s guy, but Fallon took the laptop. It’s in her vehicle. I’m on my way to retrieve it, but your location’s compromised. Fallon called me from her cell just now. They could’ve tracked her.”

  “Fuck.” Glancing at Shade, I nodded at his Escalade. “We’ll head back to base now.”

  Shade lifted his chin in acknowledgement and went to his SUV as I hit the steps.

  “Copy that. Meet you there.” Luna hung up.

  I was halfway up the steps when a yellow Maserati I knew too damn well came roaring down my driveway and spun out in front of the Escalade.

  Shade was out of the Escalade with his gun drawn before my feet hit the ground.

  The Maserati’s driver door opened, and Summer got out with a gun in her hand. Eye makeup smeared down her face, wearing the same damn see-through shirt as yesterday, she aimed at me. “Where the fuck is Fallon, you prick?”

  “Lower your weapon,” Shade warned as he came around the Escalade.

  Swinging her gun in a wide, sloppy arc, Summer aimed at Shade. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “The guy who’s gonna shoot you if you don’t put your fucking weapon down.”

  Summer smirked, but there was fear in her eyes. “Ha. I’ve already been shot, asshole.” She swung her aim back at me. “Tell Fallon to get the fuck out here.”

  Cursing myself for leaving my goddamn gun in the SUV again, I lied to her. “She’s not here.”

  Summer recklessly pointed her gun at the apartment. “I tracked her phone and the lights are on, asshole. I’m not stupid. Tell her to get out here and bring my laptop or shit’s gonna get real, real fast.”

  I heard the door at the top of the stairs bang open, but I didn’t take my eyes off Summer. “Go back inside, Fallon,” I ordered.

  “Shit,” Shade muttered.

  “Told you,” Summer sneered.

  Dread hitting my chest, I turned.

  Standing at the top of the stairs with an arm around Fallon’s neck and a gun pressed to her temple, the asshole in black leather from the club glared at me. “Give me the laptop or she dies.”

  Motherfucker. “You bring this piece of shit here, Summer?”

  “He didn’t fucking teleport, asshole,” Summer clipped. “Of course I fucking drove him. I also dropped his ass off down the road because I’m not stupid enough to waltz up on your pathetic bodyguard bullshit. Now get my laptop!”

  Staring at Fallon with a gun to her head, my brain fucking scrambled. “How did you find us?”

  “Do you ever fucking listen to what I say?” Summer yelled, sounding like she was about to lose her shit. “You think only loser bodyguards can track a cell phone? Get. The fucking laptop. NOW!”

  Fuck, fuck. “Shade?”

  “Yeah?” he replied absently.

  “You a good shot?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the asshole.

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

  I spared Shade a quick glance.

  His right arm extended, aiming one gun at the asshole who had Fallon, Shade’s left arm was extended in the opposite direction as he simultaneously aimed at Summer.

  Jesus.

  “Who you want me to shoot first?” Shade asked casually.

  Every damn thing Luna and the guys had taught me flew through my head. Protect the client. Protect your weapon. Protect your position. Plan for contingencies. Stay alert. Stoic and attentive. Protect yourself. You’re no good to the client if you’re dead.

  I remembered all of it.

  But not a damn word of it mattered.

  Fallon had a gun pointed at her head.

  And her piece-of-shit daughter was behind it.

  “Get the fucking laptop!” the asshole yelled at me.

  There was only one move. “Hold,” I clipped at Shade.

  Turning, I went for Summer.

  The asshole at the top of the stairs would have to take his gun off Fallon to shoot me, and if he did that, Shade would shoot him.

  Eyes darting everywhere, hands shaking, strung the fuck out, Summer waved her gun at me. “Stop right there, Cowboy, or I’ll fucking shoot you. Then we’ll really have matching scars.”

  “You’re full of shit,” I challenged, a step away from her. “You won’t pull that trigger.”

  “Shoot him, bitch!” the asshole yelled.

  “Summer,” Fallon cried.

  I grabbed the barrel of Summer’s gun and shoved up.

  She pulled the fucking trigger.

  Fallon screamed.

  Shade fired.

  Everything went to hell.

  THOMAS GRABBED THE GUN IN Summer’s hands, and she pulled the trigger.

  Fear, acute and stabbing, pierced my heart, and I screamed. For Thomas. For Summer. For the man who kissed me like he loved me. For the boy I gave a stuffed dolphin too.

  Tears hit my eyes as I watched the scene in front of me unfold like a movie.

  Except everything played out in slow motion.

  Thomas’s elbow swung into Summer’s face, making hard contact with her nose.

  Heat ripped through my thigh.

  Another gunshot rang out.

  Summer dropped to the ground.

  Hot wetness splattered all over my face, chest and arms.

  Thomas spun to face me, arms extended, Summer’s gun in his hands.

  The man from the club who’d broken into Thomas’s apartment through the stable entrance and grabbed me fell backward.

  His arm still around my neck, his body weight pulling on me, my feet slipped. My back hit the railing.

  “NO,” Thomas yelled, dropping the gun and breaking into a sprint.

  My back went over the railing.

  My head dipped upside down.

  My heels dug in to the wooden landing.

  Time suspended.

  Then the arm around my neck tightened…

  And I was falling.

  EVERYTHING I’D EVER THOUGHT I wanted in my life flashed before my eyes.

  A caring mother.

  That football scholarship.

  A career in the Marines.

  A body that didn’t betray me.

  But when Shade’s shot hit the asshole in the middle of the forehead and he started to fall backward off the balcony with his arm locked around Fallon’s neck, I didn’t want anything except Fallon to not be hurt.

  Years of football training, years of conditioning, countless hours running to keep my body in the best physical shape I could, it all culminated in a single moment.

  Dropping Summer’s gun, my gaze locked on the woman I wanted more than anything, I sprinted toward the stairs.

  I was two paces out when she was pulled by the dead asshole’s arm locked around her neck in a death grip, and she flew backward off the balcony.

  I didn’t think.

  Muscle memory kicked in.

  My feet dug in to the packed dirt.

  I leapt.

  Arms out, heart pounding, breath short, fear crushing, I reached for her.

  I reached for Fallon.

  My Fallon.

  My love.

  My woman.

  Her body hit my arms, and I hit the ground.

  The impact reverberated through every single muscle, bone and nerve in my body.

  Ignoring it all, hugging her to my chest, I rolled and sat up.

  Then I looked down at her.

  Perfectly still, she didn’t move.

  “Fallon,” I begged, my hands shaking, my breath short.

  Her eyes closed, her arms loose, she didn’t respond.

  “Fallon,” I panicked.

  A hand landed on my shoulder. “Nice catch, kid. Give her a minute, she had the wind knocked out of her.” Shade picked up the gun I’d dropped. Then he grabbed the dead asshole by the shirt and dragged his body a couple yards away.

  Holding her nose wi
th one hand, half stumbling, Summer dropped to her knees near us and crawled the last few feet toward Fallon. “Mama,” she cried.

  I didn’t pay attention to Summer or Shade or the dead asshole.

  Blood splatter covering every inch of the woman I loved, I stroked her hair and I begged. “Please, baby, please. Come back to me.” I kissed her forehead. “Come on. I’m not gonna fight with you. I’m not gonna lie anymore. Just wake up.” I shook her once. “Come on, beautiful.” Shit lodged in my throat. “I need you to wake up, goddamn it. Wake up.”

  Fallon sucked in a wheezing breath, and her eyes popped open.

  “Thank fuck.” I held her face. “Fallon, baby, can you hear me?”

  She tried to suck in another breath, and panic flooded her features.

  “You’re okay, sweetheart. Take it easy. You had the wind knocked out of you.”

  Her eyes darting to Summer, she looked back at me and tried for another breath. “Can’t… breathe,” she rasped.

  “Slow, easy breaths. It’ll come. Give it a second. You’re okay.” Please, God, let her be okay.

  “Fallon,” Summer whispered.

  Her eyes on me, Fallon inhaled.

  “That’s it,” I coaxed. “Nice and slow for me, sweetheart.” I stroked her hair again. “Nice and slow.”

  She took another breath and another while Summer quietly cried.

  So fucking grateful she was alive, I smiled at Fallon, but she frowned. Alarm spread, and I quickly scanned her body.

  Fuck, fuck.

  A welt on her left outer thigh. Red, fresh, distinctive. I touched just below the bullet graze. “Tell me where else it hurts,” I demanded.

  Her body cradled by mine, her chest rose with another breath. Then another. “Push me up,” she rasped.

  Careful, watching her face for signs of pain, I gently brought her up into a sitting position.

  Not wincing, not looking at me, she inhaled deep, and her gaze landed on Summer.

  “Mama,” Summer barely whispered, tears streaming down her makeup-stained, bloody face. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  The rage was instant. Pointing at Fallon’s leg, I glared at Summer. “You shot her.” I tipped my chin toward the dead asshole. “And you brought this asshole here.”

  “Y-yes, but he wa-wasn’t supposed to hold a gun on her.” Summer cried harder. “I-I swear. He was only supposed to get the laptop while I drove in the fr-front and made a distraction.”