Ruthless Bastard

by Kennedy, Stacey

  Rhett let the raw intensity fill him. He slowly grinned, a smile he knew looked deadly. “Now that, Kinsley, is my absolute pleasure.”

  Chapter 12

  It took longer than anyone had expected for the doctor to discharge Kinsley, but some of that was also because Asher took her statement there at the hospital. The attack is fresh on your mind, he had said. Yeah, it was fresh, and so was the fear. There, lingering right in her chest, just above her baby. She was curled up on Boone and Peyton’s couch by the crackling fire when she slid her hand under the warm blanket to rest on her belly. She’d never been that scared before. A fear that felt all consuming. From the attack, yes, but also from not knowing who wanted her to close the bar or why. She lived in Stoney Creek, a small town of quiet people. She had no enemies that came to mind. No matter how she looked at this, nothing made any sense.

  It had started snowing again the moment they left the hospital, and Kinsley watched the snowflakes flutter down from the living room window of the lake house that had ivy climbing along its left side. Peyton had bought the place when she moved to Stoney Creek, furnishing it with antiques, and what once was in desperate need of repairs now looked brand new again with a fresh coat of cream-colored paint on the walls. The entire house screamed French country cottage. Kinsley had to squint to see the snow-covered frozen river past the big shade trees, with their branches dipping under the weight of the fallen snow.

  “Hot chocolate makes everything better,” Remy said.

  Kinsley glanced away from the window to find Remy offering her a mug. “Thanks.” Her hands hugged the steaming cup. “You even added little marshmallows. Pulling out the big guns, huh?”

  “Of course,” Remy said with a gentle smile. “After the day you’ve had, you deserve all the marshmallows and chocolate out there.” She took a seat next to Kinsley on the couch, tucking herself under the blanket too.

  Soft jazz music played through the speaker on the mantel, as Peyton exited the kitchen holding two more mugs. She gave Remy one, then sat in the chair across from them, facing the fire. “Feeling a little bit better?” she asked Kinsley.

  “Much. Thanks for letting me come back here,” Kinsley said. “Hospitals have got to be the worst place to be ever.”

  Peyton gave a solemn nod. “They’re definitely cold, but I swear it’s to motivate people into wanting to get better and leave.” And she should know. Before moving to Stoney Creek, she’d worked as an emergency room nurse in Seattle.

  “Well, they succeeded,” said Kinsley, who then yawned. The day, the emotions, it was all slowly coming down on her like a heavy weighted blanket. She snuggled into the couch and took a tiny sip of her drink, the heat instantly hitting her tongue, and the sweetness following soon after. The warmth of the mug bled into her hands, and she wanted it all. It didn’t matter that she had fleece pajamas on, or fuzzy slippers, or the blanket, the coldness that hit her the moment she woke up in the ambulance with a very worried Benji at her side wouldn’t quit.

  “So…” Remy said, blowing on her drink. “Can we talk about Rhett and who the hell he became today?”

  Kinsley smiled softly. There was one thing she needed more than sleep, and that was not to think about the danger she’d been in today. How scary that moment was, and how afraid she was that her attacker might come back. Remy must’ve known that. “You mean, how sweet he was?”

  “Yes.” Remy nodded firmly, taking a fast sip then bringing her mug back down to her lap. “I’ve never in my life seen him like that.”

  “Definitely attentive,” Peyton added. “Even Boone looked a bit shocked by his reaction to seeing you in the hospital bed.”

  Kinsley gave a little shrug. “He’s changing. Little by little. And yes, it surprises me, too, but then it also doesn’t. He’s always been a good guy. He’s just had a hard time readjusting to life here again.”

  Remy cringed. “Which makes me feel like total shit.”

  “Why, because you yelled at him at Merlots?” Kinsley asked with a smirk.

  Remy’s brows rose. “He told you I yelled at him?”

  “I saw you drag him away. It’s not that hard to put two and two together.”

  Remy set her mug down, obviously not as desperate for warmth as Kinsley. “Well, first, I didn’t exactly yell at him. I simply reminded him that I have hexing abilities, and if he hurt you, I’d hex him so he couldn’t get a hard-on.”

  Peyton burst out laughing. “You did not!”

  “Of course I did,” Remy said seriously. “I had no idea he was being this sweet, caring guy. I thought I was dealing with tough, emotionally closed off, looking for his next lay Rhett.” She hesitated and shrugged. “I thought he was being all for show or something, but today…well, that was different.”

  Kinsley sipped her hot chocolate, taking in a marshmallow. She didn’t really have a response, and she knew Remy was just being a good friend. Kinsley probably would’ve done far worse by now if the roles had been reversed.

  “Wait,” Peyton said slowly, her eyes narrowing on Remy. “You can’t really hex people, can you?”

  Remy rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why everyone doubts me all the time.”

  Kinsley chuckled. She didn’t believe in everything Remy believed in, but she’d seen some of her spells literally work magic. Once as a child, Kinsley had poison ivy so bad that nothing would help it. Remy’s grandmother whipped up some cream, and within twenty-four hours the poison ivy was gone. When Remy’s grandmother passed, she left her Book of Spells to Remy, and those spells were what Remy sold at her shop. “You should have seen him later that night after their talk at the bar,” Kinsley said to Peyton. “He looked so pale.”

  Remy’s smiled beamed. “Good. I’m glad he took me seriously, but honestly, I didn’t know…” Genuine curiosity in her bright eyes. “So this is really how he’s been with you?”

  Kinsley nodded. “Rhett’s wanted everyone for so long to believe that he’s this ruthless bastard. But…I don’t know…I see him through a different lens. Maybe that’s stupid of me and will inevitably get me hurt, but he doesn’t scare me.”

  Peyton picked a marshmallow out of her mug. She blew on it, then tossed it into her mouth. “Maybe all this time he just needed someone who understands him like you do, and maybe that’s what you are for him. Maybe he’s coming out of his shell.”

  Kinsley laughed softly. “That’s a lot of ‘maybes.’”

  “It is.” Peyton shrugged. “But it also could be true.”

  Remy watched Kinsley intensely. “I know that look,” she said. “You’re waiting for the bomb to drop and for this to all fall apart.”

  “I’m putting all my hopes into that not happening,” Kinsley responded. “But it would be stupid of me not to see that Rhett’s got a lot of shit to deal with. He’s been through a lot, and there is…this part of him that’s trying to fit into this world he wasn’t expecting to fit into. He saw himself as a soldier. A warrior. He didn’t want a wife, a kid, this nine-to-five kind of life. He wanted to protect his country. He picked that as his path. And while there is this huge part of me that wants to believe that this is actually happening, that we can have something beyond sex, there’s another part of me that is well aware that no one can change like”—she snapped her fingers—“that.”

  Peyton frowned. “But you do think it’s possible, right?”

  “I think he’s trying really hard,” Kinsley said honestly amid the comfort of the two women she loved and trusted immensely. “But no one can change that drastically, and that’s just the reality I’m left with. That one day, while this is going okay right now, I’m going to wake up and want more than he can give me.”

  Awareness drifted into Remy’s eyes, and her voice softened. “That’s why you’ve been okay with this arrangement with him?”

  Kinsley nodded. “He’s trying, and I want to let him try to see if we can make it work. What else can I possibly ask for? I want our child to have two parents. Happy ones that want t
o be there.” Both friends gave her a look of understanding. “I won’t bend on my happiness, but I love Rhett. I’ve loved him for so damn long. And that means I have to love the parts that aren’t totally put together. He’s either going to get to where I am, or he won’t. But if that happens, we’ll have to co-parent, and we need a solid friendship for that to happen. That’s what we’re working towards right now. Not love. Maybe something deeper than we had before, yeah, but just…figuring this out, you know?”

  Peyton’s eyebrows slowly drew together. “Yes, I totally understand. He’s doing what he should be doing, and even more than I think any of us expected.”

  A long moment of silence drifted between them as everyone sipped their hot chocolate. Until Remy broke it. “Out of curiosity, do you think he’ll ever be the marrying type?” she asked.

  Kinsley shrugged and admitted the honest-to-God truth. “I have absolutely no idea.”

  “Well, one thing is for certain,” Remy said. “I’ve never seen the kind of rage I saw in Rhett today. Whoever did this to you today, whoever wants you to close down, I actually pity them. Rhett is coming for them, and I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that wrath.”

  Peyton gave a firm nod. “That’s why Boone thinks it’s not someone from town.”

  “Did he say why?” Kinsley asked.

  “Because no one who knows Rhett would be so stupid to come at him like this,” Peyton said slowly. “No one.”

  Kinsley nodded, as that made a lot of sense. Anyone who knew Rhett knew not to mess with him. The United States government had trained him to kill, and he had no qualms about it when he was protecting those he was told to protect.

  “All right,” Peyton said, setting her mug down on the table. “We’ve had hot chocolate, Boone’s bringing us dinner soon, and we’ve got a couple of Hallmark Christmas movies. What else can I get you? What do you need?”

  Kinsley took a long sip of her cooled-down hot chocolate, wiggling her toes. She looked between her best friend and her sister-in-law and smiled, the coldness finally fading away to the warmth and love in this room. “Just this. Nothing else but this.”

  * * *

  On the north end of Whitby Falls, anticipation flowed through Rhett’s veins as he leaned forward, staring out the front window while Asher pulled his truck into the parking lot of Red Dragon’s Saloon, the local biker bar. Resting just off the gravel road in the rural area of the city, the bar was what biker movies were made of, with its worn plank boards for walls and western false front architecture. But the red and blue neon lights were like a beacon calling Rhett forward. There was a time and a place to let a case fall where it fell, and there was a time to push forward and demand answers.

  Rhett planned to push. Hard.

  From the back seat, Boone let out a long deep sigh. “This could end very badly.”

  “Yes, it could,” Rhett replied, eyeing the rows of motorcycles, his seatbelt the only thing holding him back from rushing in and getting answers.

  Asher stopped the truck off to the side of the motorcycles. “My vote is still that this is highly stupid.”

  “I won’t wait for answers anymore.” Rhett unbuckled his seatbelt then turned to the men he trusted as much as his military brothers, if not more. “You both know what to do?”

  “Plant the bait,” Boone said.

  Asher added, “And then we meet at Flannigan Corners.” The four-way stop in Whitby Falls had been the location of a terrible accident where seven members of the Flannigan family had all perished in a crash caused by a DUI.

  Rhett nodded and grinned. “Keep the truck on, just in case I come running.”

  Asher snorted, turning off the ignition. “Only you would enjoy this.”

  Rhett did enjoy this. He lived for the adventure. The rush of adrenaline that followed as Rhett exited the truck was his fuel. That steady excitement kept him sharp and ready as Boone and Asher headed off toward the bar’s front door. Rhett reached for his weapon in the holster at his waist and moved to the bar’s window. He stayed off to the side and glanced up into it, watching Boone and Asher walk into the bar. Every head turned in their direction, but there was only one person Rhett kept his focus on.

  Dalton. He rose from his spot at the bar as Boone and Asher approached him. The bikers went still around them, all looking to Dalton on how to react. Boone spoke, and they had a short conversation. One that had been planned down to each and every word spoken. Boone and Asher were reporting the attack on Kinsley today and asking the questions they needed to ask to plant the seed to get Dalton acting, if Rhett’s instincts were right. They usually were.

  When Boone and Asher left the bar, the bikers once again looked to Dalton for a reaction. He said something to them, then turned and headed toward the back, past the two strippers dancing around the poles. Rhett moved swiftly, his military training clicking into place, as he became part of the shadows. He slipped through the back door, passing the chef working at the stove, flipping burgers. Loud music came from the front, but Rhett moved hastily, already aware of the layout of the bar that the detectives in Whitby Falls had provided after Rhett left the hospital.

  He stalked carefully down the hallway, taking each breath slow and easy while an aroma of grease and bacon lingered in the air. He held his weapon in his hands, aimed at any threat coming his way. When he overheard Dalton’s enraged voice, he lowered it slightly.

  “I don’t know what shit you’re pulling,” Dalton growled. “But we never signed up for this.”

  A quick peek into the room revealed Dalton speaking on the phone, his back to the door. Rhett slipped in, then tucked himself behind the door, and Dalton was none the wiser, focused on his conversation.

  “You fucking attacked the police chief’s daughter. Do you understand the position this puts us in? The heat you’ve brought on us?”

  Rhett slowed his breathing further and counted with each of those breaths. Patience wasn’t necessarily his strong suit, but hours of practice had made him better. Stronger.

  “You never told us of this plan,” Dalton stated. “And if you had, I wouldn’t have agreed.”

  Rhett took in every single word, imprinting the conversation into his memory.

  Dalton’s back went ramrod straight at whatever the person had said. One hand pressed against the desk. “You’ve fucking made your point now. Leave it at that.” A pause, and Dalton let off a tense laugh. “You’re a fool to believe that. She’s surrounded by cops and a retired Army Ranger.” Another pause, and Dalton snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. You’ve given your warnings, now I’ll give mine. Do not put heat on me again. You will regret it if you do.” And then he hung up, tossing his phone onto his desk. “Fuck,” he spat.

  Rhett lunged forward, slamming the door closed on his way, and a blink later, had Dalton up against the wall by his neck, Rhett’s weapon digging into his chin.

  Dalton chuckled, though his nostrils flared. “You are either stupid or want to die.”

  “I could say the same to you.” Rhett pressed the gun harder against Dalton’s neck and said through clenched teeth, “Tell me who that was on the phone.”

  Dalton snorted. “You’re not going to shoot me, West. You’re a cop.”

  “You’re wrong,” Rhett said slowly. “I’m first and always a Ranger. I protect mine. And don’t think for a fucking second I won’t end you to find out who attacked her.”

  Dalton’s eyes flared. “You’ll never walk out of here if you do.”

  Rhett dropped the veil off the cold-blooded warrior inside him. “Do you honestly believe I give a shit about that?” He dug the weapon deeper into Dalton’s jawline. “Give me a name.”

  Maybe it was the tone of his voice or the look in his eyes, but Dalton’s expression shifted, going lax. “I cannot give you a name,” he said firmly. “To do so would be to endanger my club.”

  Rhett felt the racing of Dalton’s heart beneath his fingers on his neck. “If you can’t give me a name, then give me s
omething to find this person.”

  Dalton’s Adam apple bobbed. “Look into Bernie.”

  Rhett lightened his fingers on Dalton’s neck. “The owner of Merlots?”

  “Yes, him,” Dalton growled. “Now, get your fucking gun out of my goddamn face.” Rhett slowly lowered his gun. He backed away, keeping his gaze on Dalton as the biker said, “I should kill you.”

  Rhett grinned, a smile he knew promised death. “You won’t.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I overheard your conversation,” Rhett explained. “You want this fucker gone as much as I do, and instead of starting a war, you’ll let me end this.”

  Dalton’s eyes blazed and he gestured to the door. “You’ve got one minute to leave before I send my men after you.”

  Rhett kept his weapon aimed at Dalton’s head. “If you’ve lied to me—”

  Dalton raised his hand, a hardness filling his expression. “I don’t touch women or children. A line was crossed today. Fuck off and go deal with it.”

  And that was as close to peace as Rhett and Dalton were ever going to get. Rhett didn’t say anything more; he simply turned and exited the bar the way he’d come in, with no one else aware that he’d even been there. His feet hit the gravel parking lot and Rhett took off running to the east, through the cornfield that was his cover if Dalton indeed sent anyone after him.

  But ten minutes into his run, only silence greeted him as the corn stalks that had been used for the pumpkin festival maze brushed across his arms, snow fluttering down.

  Another few minutes later, he caught the headlights of the truck, and in seconds, he was back in the passenger seat. Asher hit the gas a second later, and the tires skidded against the gravel road.

  From the back seat, Boone asked, “Did you get anything?”

  “Bernie,” Rhett wheezed, his chest heaving.

  “What about Bernie?” Asher asked, taking a quick right turn.

  Rhett used the front of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “That’s who Dalton pointed to.”