Retaliate

by Kristin Harte

  “You should take Finn back to town before you get flooded in here. I don’t know what’s wrong with him and Anabeth, but there’s some sort of tension there.”

  “Yeah, I saw that myself.” Gage came around the table, smacking my shoulder hard before squeezing it. “This girl makes you happy. Might be time to think about changing things in your life to accommodate hers. But no matter what, I’ve got your back, brother. Always.”

  There was nothing to say to that because I already knew I’d probably be making some big changes if I wanted to keep Anabeth in my life. I simply nodded, staring out the window as he headed outside and led Finn to his Jeep. As he backed out of the driveway and disappeared into the hazy afternoon rainstorm. I sat and looked out the window for what felt like hours as my determination sank in.

  Ignorance was not knowing something; stupidity was learning the same thing over and over without catching on. I’d been down this road with Anabeth, been left behind and hurt and damn near crushed by her. And there I was, ready to let her do it again.

  I was as stupid as any man had ever been, but there was no stopping what I’d started. I’d fallen back in love with Anabeth, but it wouldn’t matter. She was going to leave me. To leave Justice. And once again, she’d take my heart with her unless I figured out a way to convince her to let me go with her. But there were conversations to have before I could try for that, explanations needed. About why she left in the first place, why she’d broken my heart. Why she hadn’t loved me enough then to find a way to work out whatever was going on with her.

  To move forward, we’d have to go back. I didn’t know if she was ready, though.

  Or if she ever would be.

  At least without one hell of a push from me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Anabeth

  I woke up warm and comfortable, wrapped in Bishop’s arms with his solid weight beside me. The shadows lining the walls of my bedroom told me I’d slept much longer than I should have. I couldn’t even remember coming to bed—the last thing I recalled was sitting with my back to the door and crying. Sobbing, really. Suffering as I deserved to suffer, even though I hated feeling so broken and worthless.

  I didn’t feel worthless in Bishop’s arms, which scared the daylights out of me.

  I rolled over to face him, looking into his deep, gray eyes and fighting the warm tug they had on my heart. “Hi.”

  He didn’t speak, didn’t smile either. Instead, he stared at me, a strange, almost detached expression on his face.

  “Bishop?”

  “You’re going to head back to Vegas, aren’t you?”

  My heart stuttered, and my mouth went dry. “Yes.”

  A tic in his jaw gave away his anger, so I reached for him. Held on to his face as I tried to find the right words to explain.

  “I have no job here, no way to make money. There’s no real future for someone like me in Justice.”

  His eyes seemed to harden right in front of me. There was no stopping his anger, no calming it down. Before I could even try, he rolled away. Sitting up on the edge of the mattress, he rested his elbows on his knees and kept his back to me. Stiff and unyielding. Angry.

  “No future with me, you mean.”

  His words landed like a lead balloon inside my stomach. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Why’d you leave? That first time—why’d you run away from everything?”

  From him. He meant from him. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. I couldn’t deal with the disappointment if I told him the truth. The disgust. It was one thing to see his pain—to know I’d broken his heart. It was another to rip out that heart and leave it on the floor.

  “I had to,” I said, giving him nothing else.

  His voice sounded hard and filled with rage when he asked, “Why?”

  “Bishop—”

  “Goddammit, Anabeth.” He exploded off the bed, pacing back and forth. His steps heavy, his face angry. “Tell me why you left. I deserve to know the truth.”

  But I couldn’t. I shook my head, every inch of me hating that I couldn’t give him what he wanted. “Please don’t ask me. I can’t…I just can’t.”

  Bishop finally stopped pacing, his head hanging low and his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon. Or he was dealing with a ton of pain. “I won’t do this again.”

  The first tear hit my cheek followed closely by the second and the third. All the years apart, all the pain at being separated, at leaving him and forcing myself to try to forget—it came out in my tears. I’d never allowed myself to cry over Bishop, never given in to the urge. How could I when the pain was of my own making? But, now? So close to what I’d always wanted but still so far away? All I could do was cry.

  “Anabeth—”

  I shook my head, cutting him off. “I know.”

  Which was the wrong thing to say. He growled like a bear, long and loud and filled with a rage I deserved. “You don’t know. You weren’t here. You don’t know how much of a mess you left me in. You destroyed me, Anabeth, and you don’t even care.”

  Oh God, he was so wrong. So very, very wrong. “I care. I care so much.”

  “Then tell me why.”

  I shook my head, unable to stop the tears from falling. “You’d hate me. I hate me for what I did. I can’t…I won’t say it.”

  Bishop went quiet and still, his eyes losing their fire as he stared at me. As his shoulders curled in slightly, just enough for me to notice. A posture of defeat.

  I’d broken him…again.

  “I’m going to wait downstairs for Gage to come back,” he said, his voice harsh and raspy. Cheap whiskey over ice instead of the usual sound of good bourbon.

  “Okay,” I whispered. Maybe later we could talk more, maybe he would listen to me when I told him he shouldn’t know. When I tried to explain around what happened. I didn’t want to disappoint him again, and there was no way—

  “Once Gage gets here, I’m leaving. He’ll guard the house tonight.”

  My world screeched to a halt. He was leaving me. Fitting, considering I’d been the one to run away from him, but this time…I’d sort of allowed myself to hope for more. For something. For things I knew better than to even want.

  “Bishop, I’m sor—”

  “No.” Clipped, concise, completely robotic. Too pissed to show emotion. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to, Anabeth. Not again. Not without knowing the truth. It’s the one thing I want, the one thing we need to rebuild something that could be great, and you can’t give that to me. I don’t know what to do with that.”

  He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me behind this time. Leaving me to curl up with the pillow that still smelled like him and sob one more time for all the things we’d lost. All the things we could never get back.

  For being such a coward.

  * * *

  Rex was one hell of a lap dog even though he was too big to be one. He was also a good dog to have around when your heart had been shattered into a million pieces.

  “Who’s a good boy?” I said, letting my voice go all soft and silly. The dog practically knocked me off the couch to snuggle, something I needed at that moment. Bishop had left hours ago, and…he hadn’t come back. I’d expected him to. Truly thought he’d come walking back through the door at any second to try to get me to stay or to change my mind or even just to fight with me.

  Instead, I got nothing. But Rex…and Gage.

  “All good.” The man himself walked into the living room, causing my canine blanket to sit up, though he didn’t leave me. Thank goodness, because I think being alone with Gage might have ranked right up there on the nightmare scale with being covered in spiders.

  “Thanks for keeping an eye on things,” I said as I patted Rex’s side.

  Gage frowned at his dog before shooting me a look. His eyes were darker than most—nearly black. The color so deep, they almost seemed dead or flat. Shye had called them sharklike, and I had to agree. But there was a spark
there, something alive and interested. In what, I had no idea.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice deep. His tone direct.

  Oh, his interest was in me. Or gossip about me and Bishop. Got it. “You really want me to get deep with you?”

  “Not in the least, but you’re my buddy’s girl. I have to do what I can to make sure you’re okay.”

  His words sliced across my chest like razors. “I’m not Bishop’s anything.”

  Gage chuckled and leaned a hip against the fireplace, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Both of you really suck at this. It’s obvious he wants you and you want him… Quit fucking around.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Nothing worthwhile ever is.”

  My chest tightened, the truth choking me. “I can’t…he’d never forgive me.”

  Gage continued to watch me, frowning.

  At least, until he opened his mouth again. “You know they murdered Leah.”

  My breath caught. So blunt—no sugarcoating anything for this man. “Yes, but I don’t know what that has to do with this situation.”

  “Life is short. Take every ounce of pleasure you can get, and fuck the rules.”

  Fuck the rules. “That’s an interesting take on life.”

  “I’m an interesting guy.”

  I raised my eyebrows, letting the sarcasm drip from my voice as I replied, “And so humble.”

  “It’s the SEAL in me. We’re the best—no question.”

  “Alder might argue that fact. If I remember right, the man was a Green Beret.”

  “Alder can argue all he wants about his subterfuge skills and unconventional warfare tactics. In terms of brute force and getting shit done, SEALs are where it’s at. We’re the best.” He snapped his fingers, causing Rex to jump up and pad across the room toward him. “I’m going to do another sweep outside before locking up for the night. Stay put, okay?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. SEAL, sir.” I cocked a brow and gave him a totally inaccurate salute, to which he just rolled his eyes before strolling out the door. But his words lingered, his vivacity for life hovering in the air around me.

  Life was short. I’d missed out on so much already—time with friends, with Bishop, with Miss. All because I couldn’t bear to admit my sins to the man I loved. That fear had ruled me for over a decade, had left me grief-stricken and mourning for almost half my life. The three of swords card permeating my every move and thought. Stealing my chance at happiness.

  How much longer would I allow it to take the things I loved away from me?

  Too many thoughts weighed me down, and the only comfort I could think of was my old standard—a nice, strong cup of tea. I headed for the kitchen, letting my memories take over. Letting the pain flow through me that I normally fought off. That I tried not to remember.

  As the water heated, I gave myself over to the grief of what I’d lost. I gave myself permission to feel that pain, even if just for a moment alone in the kitchen. Heart cracked wide open for once, I let the pain take me.

  Having a baby would have been all wrong for us at the time.

  When I’d found out I was pregnant with Bishop’s child, I’d still been in high school. He’d still been in college. We’d been too young to deal with the responsibilities of becoming parents. And yet, as I stood there in the kitchen where I’d grown from teenager to woman, I couldn’t stop my hand from resting on my belly.

  The timing may have been off, but I would have loved that baby with everything I had.

  I’d never truly gotten to mourn the life we’d created. Never gotten to deal with the possibility of having a child either. The baby had been gone before I’d even realized it was there, taken away from me because I’d been careless and stupid.

  So very stupid.

  I’d messed up one time, had made a decision that I knew was wrong, and I’d lost our child because of it. How could I ever admit that to Bishop? How could he ever look at me again if he knew?

  “No sense worrying over maybes,” I muttered, remembering the words Miss had said a thousand times throughout my life. She’d helped me leave, had kept me from falling apart after the loss had caused me to shut down emotionally. She’d disagreed with my decisions, though. Had wanted me to stay in Justice, to tell Bishop what had happened, and to…I don’t know. Wallow in the pain? Deal with the loss? It was too late to know at that point, though. Miss was gone. Bishop was gone. Our baby was gone. Meanwhile, I stood in Miss’ kitchen, making another damn cup of tea to soothe my fragile soul. Alone. Always so alone.

  Or perhaps not.

  As I poured the water to steep the tea, a shadow at the window caught my attention. I glanced up, assuming it was Gage walking past as he’d been doing while on guard duty. I assumed wrong. Though I couldn’t see through the glass due to the darkness and the rain outside, the shape was clearly all wrong. The height off and the shadow too thin. That wasn’t Gage out there, which meant…

  “Shit,” I hissed, my hands shaking as I picked up my teacup. I needed my phone. Needed to call for help or find Gage or hide. Something. Anything. I tried to keep my face impassive, tried to pretend I didn’t know someone lurked just on the other side of the glass. And I calmly, carefully walked back down the hall toward the stairs leading to my bedroom where I’d left my phone.

  Calmly and carefully went flying out the window when I heard the crack of broken glass from behind me. I raced through the foyer instead. Five feet, four. Footsteps behind me urging me to run harder, faster. Three feet left. I reached for the newel post that anchored the stairway railing, knowing I still had to get all the way to the second floor. Foot on the first step, ready to leap to the third and…

  I didn’t make it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bishop

  The day had gone to shit. Ever since I’d left Anabeth’s place, I’d done nothing but drive and stew and grow angrier with the world. The rain fell in sheets, the ditches and creeks I passed not able to hold back the waters any longer. Not that I gave a shit. Let it flood. Let the whole damn town get washed away so we could all start anew. There was nothing I could have wanted more.

  And yet, that wasn’t the truth. I didn’t want the town to flood because that would cause hardships for the residents. Alder, as the oldest Kennard brother, ran shit, but I felt the responsibility we’d been born into just as strongly. Also, I did want something more than a fresh start for the town. I wanted a fresh start with Anabeth. I wanted her to stay, to be in my bed every night, to give us a chance at the life she walked away from over a decade before.

  But she wasn’t staying, which meant I wouldn’t be getting what I wanted without giving up so much. Just another thing to sour my mood and make me want to keep roaming the streets like some sort of wraith.

  My phone pinged with an incoming text, so I pulled over at the next road. No sense causing accidents when the rain would be doing enough of that. Once stopped, I swiped the screen to life.

  House secure, girl upset. WTF did you do?

  Gage, of course. Not Anabeth. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with my best friend, so I tossed the phone across the seat and pulled back out into traffic. More driving, less sitting still.

  The anxiousness, the need to run from the pain, overwhelmed me. I’d moved past those feelings, had learned to tuck my Anabeth memories away and not think about the pain she’d caused me. She’d ripped that wall down, though. Yanked the memories right to the forefront of my mind and left them there, raw and hurting.

  My Firefly, the heartbreaker.

  “Motherfucker,” I said as I turned back toward town. I wanted to hate Anabeth for bringing this on me, to curse her name and walk the fuck away from her for good, but I couldn’t. My heart wouldn’t let me. I knew I’d go back to her house, that I’d fight for her again and again and again. I had to—she was the other half of my soul, the one woman who’d ever seen the real me and simply loved me. I’d never give up on her.

  Which, at that moment and in th
at situation, pissed me off even more.

  Another ping for a text. I almost ignored it, almost left that phone lit up across the seat, but that sad, little weak spot inside me said it could be Anabeth. I pulled over again, and I reached for the phone. Swiped the screen that had long since gone dark back to life.

  And I read the two words without comprehending them for a solid thirty seconds.

  Ambush. Breached.

  When their meaning finally sank in, my heart dropped. Breached. Someone had made it into Anabeth’s house. Had gotten past Gage and had my girl all to himself.

  I slammed my foot down on the gas, cursing the fact that I’d again worn my dress shoes instead of my boots. I wasn’t prepared for this at all, which threw my anger into downright rage.

  “Hang on, baby. I’m coming.” I performed a quick U-turn then gunned the engine, flying through the rain at a speed not safe for anyone. More than once, my tires slipped as I raced toward Widow’s Ridge, but I held on to the wheel and kept myself on the road. I had to get there; I had to make it. My god, the things they could be doing to her. And Gage, my best friend and partner. I’d left him there to do my damn job. You never left your wingman alone—I knew that. I lived that rule, which was why Gage and Rex had been living with me. Why he’d even moved to Justice in the first place.

  I’d fucked up bad all around on this one.

  As I turned onto the road leading up to the ridge, I grabbed my phone again. We needed backup. I had no idea how many men had breached the house, but I didn’t want to take a chance that we’d be outnumbered without sending out a call for support.

  “Siri, call Alder cell.”

  “Calling Alder cell,” the robotic voice returned just before the phone clicked and started to ring. One, two, three, four…voice mail.