Kyle

by Riley Edwards

  After we’d exited the highway the road became a narrow two-lane street with tiny houses dotting the way. The area was certainly rural and the farther we drove the more I thought it was the perfect place for a missile silo. There was nothing around, sometimes not for miles, between the houses.

  “You’re making a right up here at the stop sign.”

  Emerson made the turn and I went back to staring out the window. When the car behind us caught my attention, I could feel the hair on the back of my neck start to tingle.

  I picked up the burner out of the cupholder and dialed Garrett’s number, but I paused before I hit send.

  “Emmy, no matter what you stay calm,” I told her.

  “What?”

  “I think we’re being followed. The car behind us exited the freeway when we did, followed us down Route 12. Now it just made the same right we did. I could be wrong, but there doesn’t seem to be much around here.”

  I tapped the call button and Garrett answered immediately. “Where are you?”

  “Just turned onto Route 9 but I think we’re being followed. What do we do?”

  “What kind of car?”

  “Black Lexus. And just to say, I don’t see anyone who lives in this area driving a Lexus. This is more of a pickup kinda place.”

  “Plate?”

  “It’s too far behind us.”

  “Alright. Just head to the silo.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me. Get to the silo. No matter what, do not stop until you get there.”

  “The car’s speeding up.”

  “Tell Emerson to speed up, too.”

  “Drive faster, Emmy,” I told her.

  With every inch the speedometer ticked up, my pulse did. too. It was like they were magically connected, and the harder Emmy pressed the gas pedal, the harder my heart pounded.

  “He’s getting closer,” I warned.

  “Everything’s fine. I’m not hanging up, but I need to do something.”

  “Hale Hill Road. You need to make a left up here,” I told Emmy.

  “Then I have to slow down.”

  She was going fifty-five, she’d definitely have to slow. Shit.

  “Okay, just wait. Slam on the brakes, make the turn, then hit the gas again.”

  “Are you crazy? He’ll rear-end us.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, unfortunately getting a good look at Harry. I couldn’t see his lips because thankfully they were covered with tape, but I could see the creases around his eyes. Creases that told me the asshole was smiling.

  He knew what was happening.

  The Lexus was so close, Emerson was right—he would rear-end us if she slammed the brakes.

  “Let him hit us. Just hold on to the wheel tight and brace.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Do it, Emmy!” I shouted. “Now. The turn is now.”

  Emerson eased on the brakes before she hit them harder. We lurched forward, Emmy squealed, then she finally jerked the wheel to the left. She missed the road just barely and we were on the shoulder. Gravel sprayed as Emerson hit the gas and shot us forward.

  “Oh, God,” she panted.

  “Told you, you could do it. One more turn. First left. Same thing.”

  “Yeah, right, okay.”

  “When you get there,” Garrett came back on the line. “Drive past the silo pad.”

  “What’s that?” Then to Emmy. “Any second.”

  “You’ll know it when you see it. It’s a big, round concrete slab. Pass it, do not stop until you get to the outbuilding.”

  “Now, Emerson!” I yelled.

  There was no street sign, no mailbox. The break in the thick trees was the only indication there was a driveway. This time, she didn’t hesitate. The Lexus slammed into us and Emmy turned too soon. The car fishtailed, Emerson fought to keep control, and thankfully righted us before she slammed us into a very large tree trunk that had been in front of us.

  I didn’t have time to think about how I wished we hadn’t buckled Harry up in the back. Listening to him bounce around and hit his head on the back windows would’ve been satisfying.

  “They’re coming in hot.” I heard Garrett announce, not knowing who he was talking to. “Do not stop.” I knew that was for us.

  “Don’t stop, Emmy. Straight past the concrete pad to the building in the back.”

  “Oh my God. They’re gonna hit us again.”

  She was not wrong and a second later, we jerked forward and Emmy gunned it, putting distance between the cars.

  “I see it, Garrett. Stay straight, Emerson. You’re doing great.”

  We flew by the silo pad and the world behind us exploded in a hail of gunfire. The sound so loud, so shocking, I ducked. And unfortunately, Emmy ducked, too.

  “Brake!” I screamed as the building in front of us came into view.

  “Goddamn—” The rest of Emerson’s statement was cut off by screeching tires.

  I braced for impact and prayed this car had airbags, or we were dead.

  Seriously dead.

  The car slammed into the side of the building. Metal crunched and mangled around us as the car crashed through the tin and finally came to a stop.

  “Holy fuck,” I breathed.

  Emmy did it. We made it.

  “You okay?” she whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  “Now what?”

  That was a good question, one I didn’t have an answer for. And sometime during the crash I’d lost the phone.

  “I hear someone,” she whispered. “What now?”

  “Now, we fight some more, Emmy.”

  There was no way we’d made it this far only to be taken.

  My door was thrown open at the same time Emerson’s was. And I wasn’t ready. I didn’t even have my seat belt off but I wasn’t giving up. Not now. Not when we were so close.

  I blindly swung as a man dressed in black leaned into the car. His head jerked back on a grunt and I prepared to scratch his eyes out when his hands grabbed mine.

  “Sweetheart! Stop, it’s me.”

  I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I had to fight.

  There was commotion to my left and an ear-piercing scream rang out, then someone was in my face.

  “Anaya, sweetheart. Calm down.” I froze. Everything froze. Time. My lungs. My arms. Just everything. “There you go. Everything’s fine.”

  No, everything was not fine. Everything that had happened in the last few days made me not fine. But the last few hours had wrecked me.

  My body slumped.

  The seat belt was undone, and suddenly I was out of the car and in Kyle’s arms. I glanced over the top of the car and much like me, Emmy was in Thad’s arms. Only, he had his mouth to her ear and his lips were moving. I couldn’t hear what he was saying but Emerson was nodding.

  They came.

  And just in time.

  How stupid was I to think Emerson and I could take Harry Landry on the run and get away with it?

  Declan passed us on his way to the car but he said nothing. He didn’t have to, his eyes said it all. His hard features and angry gait said the rest. Declan was going to lose his shit and Harry deserved every bit of ire. He killed Jeremy. He bought and sold women. He’d broken something in Monica that had turned her into a walking, talking, soulless human. No, I would not feel any sorrow over Harry Landry.

  “Anaya, sweetheart—”

  The rest of Kyle’s words were cut off as the chopping of helicopter blades filled the air and I scrambled to get out of his arms.

  Oh, God. What now?

  “That’s just Zane.” His warm breath fanned over my neck as he spoke close to my ear.

  I wanted to soak him up. His strength. His magnetism. His courage.

  But I couldn’t.

  And now it was time to face what’d I done.

  Chapter 33

  She was in my arms.

  Thank fuck.

  I was doing my best ignoring her trembling and shuddering i
n my arms as I walked us down three flights of steep stairs.

  When I heard the squealing of tires my heart had stopped. All I could picture was Emerson losing control and slamming into one of the many trees that lined the road and driveway. The car had finally come into view and the three of us had waited until it sped past before we unloaded our magazines into the second car.

  Four men.

  Four fucking men had been following them. No way in hell they would’ve been able to fight their way out of that.

  If we had been five minutes later, Anaya and Emerson would’ve been gone. If we’d run into traffic on the highway—gone. If Dec hadn’t driven like a maniac—gone.

  The thought made me want to wage violence and at the same time fall to my knees.

  I had her. She was here. Safe. In my arms. But she was quaking like a leaf. And she’d said nothing.

  Thad pushed open the door in front of us. With his arms full of Emerson, he held it open with his foot.

  I got it.

  A hundred percent understood the fear and rage I’d seen in Thad’s eyes when Emerson had been kidnapped and taken to Mexico. I understood why after we’d rescued her he’d refused to allow her to walk on her own. Hell, he’d even towed her to the awaiting boat, not allowing her to swim herself. And when we’d gotten back to the hotel, she’d remained in his arms. I got it—all of it.

  We were barely through the door when I heard boots tromping down the stairs at a fast clip.

  Zane caught the door Thad had been holding before he slammed it closed behind him.

  “Jesus fuck,” he clipped. “Goddamn!”

  Anaya jerked in my arms and my stomach churned.

  “Zane—” Emerson started.

  “Goddamn!” he roared.

  “We’re fine,” Emerson told him.

  Thad’s angry growl echoed throughout the cavernous space.

  I made my way across the room to a chair and plopped my ass in it and settled Anaya in my lap.

  “This isn’t fine. This is far from fine.”

  “I’m sorry.” Anaya’s voice wobbled and she cleared her throat. “This is my fault. All of it.”

  “Anaya. Don’t—” Emerson started.

  “I killed her. It’s my fault,” Anaya announced.

  The room went static and a chill washed over me.

  “Come again?” I asked.

  “I killed her, that’s what started it. If I hadn’t killed Monica, Jeremy wouldn’t be dead.”

  Anaya’s body shook and a tearless sob tore through her body.

  “You killed Monica?” I whispered.

  Anaya buried her face in my chest and nodded.

  I glanced across the room at Emerson. Her brows were furrowed and her eyes were on Anaya.

  “What happened, sweetheart?”

  Anaya shook her head against my chest, and after a few moments of silence, Emerson answered.

  “She didn’t kill her. Anaya saved my life. I pushed Monica and she attacked me. I couldn’t breathe and Anaya saved my life. None of this is her fault. None of it. You hear me, Anaya. You. Saved. My. Life.” Emerson’s fierce statement hung in the air so thick I struggled to draw in oxygen.

  There was a crash across the room, but I didn’t spare my boss a glance as he tore apart his living room. Shit was breaking, glass shattering, but I couldn’t see a damn thing. Even though my eyes were open and Zane’s fit of rage was playing out feet away from me.

  I couldn’t see a goddamn thing but Emerson’s intense gaze. My eyes moved to Thad, and his gaze was not intense, it was furious. His dark brown eyes I’d once heard Emerson call soulful had caught fire.

  “Emmy, baby,” Thad croaked.

  Emerson went on to tell us the story. My insides were paralyzed. Fear, anger, pride, they swirled together, and every few sentences I had to squeeze Anaya just to remind myself she was safe. She was here.

  Zane was wisely holding himself off to the side. Intellectually I knew what had happened wasn’t his fault. But my emotions were too raw, too bitter.

  “He said what?” Zane cut into Emerson’s story.

  “I’m paraphrasing of course, but it was something like the great Zane Lewis forgot to scrub your phone,” Emerson repeated.

  Zane was vibrating with anger as he pulled his phone out and put it to his ear. A moment later he barked, “Garrett. Everyone’s phones are to be cleaned. ASAP.” He paused, then finished. “Jax and Dec are on their way with Landry.”

  Smart man, not allowing Thad or me to lay eyes on the motherfucker. Though Dec would handle business before Landry was turned over. He would be left breathing, but the man would never forget Declan, that was for damn sure.

  “Monica said no one found her?” I asked.

  “Emmy and I talked about that,” Anaya said, but didn’t pick her head up off my chest. “At first we didn’t think anything of it. But after everything that happened, I think it’s safe to say that was a setup.”

  “No shit,” Zane snapped. Then he sighed and scrubbed both hands over his face.

  “What about Monica?” Anaya asked.

  “What about her, sweetheart?”

  “I killed her.” Anaya pulled away and sat up in my lap and stared at me through a haze of regret and pain.

  Shit, goddamn, she was feeling this deep. Taking the woman’s life was going to mark her. I waited until Anaya focused on me and decided it was up to me to make sure that cut wasn’t deep, that it would heal.

  “Shits me to have to say this to you, but I need you to listen. What happened to Monica isn’t on you, it’s on her. She made the choice to attack Emerson. We sent you in not knowing if she was a victim or an accomplice. And now you bear the brunt of that decision. And I’m so fuckin’ sorry for that, sweetheart. Her life—not the way she lived it and not how it ended—is not on you. Other people made those choices for her. Whether she attacked Emmy with the hopes of killing Emerson or that one of you would kill her we’ll never know. What I do know is you two are still breathin’ and that is all that matters. You did what you had to do to keep Emerson alive and yourself safe and I’m damn proud of you.”

  “But… what happens now?”

  “Now we go home.”

  “No. With the police. Won’t I be in trouble?”

  “Fuck no,” Zane cut in. “First, you acted in self-defense.”

  “But—”

  “Darlin’, none of this will blow back on you. Monica’s been taken care of. That’s all you need to know. Now you go home, lean on your man, let him help you work this out. All the shit that’s fucking with your head, you give to him. You do not bottle it up. You do not keep it to yourself. You do not dwell. You give it all to Kyle and let him help you move on. That’s it. End of. There’s nothing else to worry about.”

  “And Harry?”

  “He’ll never see the light of day again.”

  “But—”

  “Harry fucking Landry does not exist for you. He doesn’t exist for Emerson. He is gone in a way that is forever.” Zane stopped and looked from Anaya to Emerson. “Sorry doesn’t fuckin’ cut it, so I won’t insult you by apologizing, but I hope you both know I wouldn’t ever knowingly put either of you in danger, but I did it all the same. This is my fault. Not yours. My men are pissed as shit at me as well they should be. We’ll work that out in private and I suspect it will be ugly, but that’s on me. But I want you both to know you did everything right. You both are warriors. Strong, smart, and resourceful. From start to finish you made all the right plays. Damn proud of you both.”

  “Can we get the hell out of here? I want to take my wife home.” Thad stood to punctuate his demand.

  I remained sitting, not sure if my legs would be steady enough to stand. My relief was palpable, making my body limp with it.

  Anaya was safe.

  Thank fuck.

  The seven-hour drive back to Maryland was interesting.

  Zane drove, Thad sat in the front seat only after Emmy had pleaded her case that she wanted
to sit with Anaya. That left me and the two women in the back seat with Anaya in the middle.

  The two women had held on to each other, something I didn’t fight even though I wanted Anaya pressed close to me. The two of them had forged an unbreakable bond, one born from battle and survival. A bond I fully understood.

  The farther we drove away from the silo, the more relaxed Anaya became and the chattier the women were. It twisted my gut listening to them talk about what had happened, but I knew they needed it. Some of it sliced me deep. Some of it made me smile. All of it impressed me.

  Their quick thinking had saved their lives. Not that I was happy either of them was in a position to have to do so, but they had been, and when shit went sideways, they’d stuck together and kicked ass.

  Proud didn’t begin to cut it. Anaya Baker was steel—strong and tough under all that beauty.

  And she was mine.

  I vowed right then as the light of dawn peaked over the horizon, I would do whatever I needed to do to make sure Anaya healed. The blow wouldn’t be permanent. It would bleed and fester. Tomorrow I’d set about making sure it scabbed over, and the scar would be so microscopic you’d need a magnifying glass to find it.

  “Was that Thelma and Louise enough for you?” Anaya giggled.

  “Yeah. Let’s never do that again,” Emerson returned.

  “At least we didn’t go over a cliff.”

  “No. We just slammed through a building.”

  Both women dissolved into a fit of giggles and I clenched my jaw. I didn’t find a damn thing funny about watching the car my woman was in crash through a pole barn. They’d gotten damn lucky.

  “Can we not fuckin’ joke about that?” Thad growled.

  “I think it’s too soon for him,” Emerson whispered.

  “It will never not be too soon, Emerson. I watched my wife… fuck…never joke about it.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Emerson pinch her lips together and look at her lap.

  Anaya’s hand found mine and she threaded our fingers together like I had done that very first plane ride.

  A plane ride that seemed like a lifetime ago.

  One that had irrevocably changed my life.

  Chapter 34