The Vixen's Lead (Kit Davenport Book 1)

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The Vixen's Lead (Kit Davenport Book 1) Page 21

by Tate James


  I glanced at my hands, which were shaking so hard I must have looked like I was having a seizure. My terror was causing a massive adrenaline overload, and I was probably minutes away from a blackout. There were too many witnesses at the hospital, so I headed back outside. The Aston wasn’t in the ambulance bay any longer. River must have moved it into one of the parking slips nearby.

  River followed me, but none of the others. They probably thought he was the best one to deal with me. Maybe they were right.

  I didn’t care.

  Dropping to a crouch, I slid my hand under the cuff of his slacks where he kept a small, but sharp knife. Freeing it, I took the blade and cut a deep gash in my forearm from elbow to wrist.

  “Fuck,” River gasped. “Kit.”

  Hot blood gushed from the wound, but the skin was already knitting back together as good as new. The rush of healing should have balanced me out, but the buzz, while decreased, wasn’t gone.

  So I repeated the action, only I cut deeper this time and it hurt like hell. Healing flooded to my arm, and the skin sealed closed. Still, the wildness coursing in my veins seemed to throb. I might need a third injury; maybe I could dig the blade in deep through muscle. Head spinning, I tried to steady my breathing. I’d never healed so quickly or had so much energy surging through me.

  I staggered, losing my balance. River didn’t let me fall, though. He pulled me close even as he slipped the blade out of my hand. I let him hold me while I caught my breath. Steadier, I pushed away from him and wiped the blood off my arm onto my T-shirt.

  “Talk to me, Kitten,” River begged, not letting me get too far away before he cupped my face in his hands. “What the fuck was that?”

  Meeting his gaze, I shrugged. “You told me to sort myself out. I didn’t think this was the right time for a thirty-mile sprint or a quick fuck in the car, so I gave the energy something to heal instead. I’m fine now.”

  My voice sounded as flat and numb as I felt, despite the roller coaster of guilt and blame in my gut. Tugging my face away, I turned to head back inside. I needed to wash my hands, and hopefully the staff would think the blood was Lucy’s.

  Lucy. My heart squeezed.

  River moved with me, a hand on my lower back. I was too exhausted to tell him not to touch me, so I said nothing. Once back inside, I chose a chair in the corner of the waiting room and curled into a ball with my head against my knees. No one spoke, but they also didn’t leave. After an eternity, I must have fallen asleep because a gentle hand shaking my shoulder woke me.

  “Miss Davenport?” The nurse asked in a careful but friendly voice. “The gentlemen over there told me you are Miss Jones’ next of kin?”

  “I... yes, yes I am. How is she? Is she okay?” Shaking off the fog, I rushed to my feet. The nurse’s relaxed smile offered me the first real measure of hope since I’d answered the video call earlier.

  “She’s in critical but stable condition. We have her in a medically induced coma until the swelling in her brain goes down, but her vitals are good.” She patted me on the arm. “Do you want to see her? It’ll have to be quick though.”

  Did I want to see her? I nodded eagerly and hurried to follow her to the Intensive Care Unit where Lucy rested in a private room.

  Lucy looked so tiny and frail covered in bandages and with her right arm in a thick cast. She had a breathing tube in, and her face was a patchwork of different bruises. The machines around her beeped steadily.

  “Why don’t you sit with her for a few minutes? A lot of people think you can still hear your loved ones talking to you through a coma.” She gave me one last pat on the arm. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  I sank into the chair beside Lucy’s bed and stared at her. I had no words to say, and even if I did, I doubted she would want to hear my voice. It was my fault this had happened to her and no amount of apologies would change it. So instead I sat there, crying silently and praying she would be okay.

  37

  The boys were waiting for me in the waiting room, then they ushered me out of the ER and back to the cars. I had no idea what to say to them, and they apparently didn’t know what to say to me.

  I got in the car because they told me to. When I didn’t buckle my seat belt, Cole reached over and did it for me. I had no idea why. Why should I care about keeping myself safe in the event of a car crash when Lucy had almost died tonight? Caleb sat beside me, holding my hand while I stared out the window at the world rushing past.

  I had so many questions for Lucy’s doctors that I wasn’t able to vocalize. How long would she be in the coma? Would she have any aftereffects of the brain trauma? What if she could never speak again? What if she could never work her magic on the computers?

  That didn’t even take into account the damage to her right wrist and hand. How would that affect her gadget creation? Fuck me, she lived for those inventions. Had knowing me cost her everything? She’d never forgive me.

  I’d never forgive myself.

  At some point I realized we’d arrived home because Caleb had my door open and unbuckled my seat belt. Then he tugged me out of the car and guided me inside. He didn’t slow until we reached Wesley’s bathroom.

  While he messed with the tub, I stared out the picture window. How long had we been at the hospital? Then Caleb stood between me and the window, and his mouth moved.

  What the hell did he want from me?

  I looked past him to the bright blue butterfly flapping around the windowsill. It reminded me of Lucy’s awesome new hairdo since summer break. How she managed to get that color past our school headmaster was beyond me, but she always did have a way with people. Does. She does have a way with people. Fuck, she was not gone. She had to be fine. That was what the nurse said. Wasn’t it? A tear rolled down my face.

  Fabric briefly obscured my view as Caleb began stripping me out of my clothes. The butterfly disappeared, and then Caleb lifted me into the hot, foamy water.

  My limited attention shifted to the softly moving bubbles. Caleb crouched beside the bath, an expression of anguish on his face. What did he have to be so upset about? It wasn’t like he even knew Lucy. Not really. Ugh, he continued talking, and it distracted me from my inspection of the bubbles.

  “Get out,” I croaked.

  “Kitty Kat! Hey! I was—”

  “Get. Out,” I repeated, forcefully. Lucy was my fault, but the boys weren’t without blame.

  Hurt creased his features, but I didn’t care. They’d betrayed me by going behind my back on a choice that was mine and mine alone. Eventually he stood and left. The warm bath must have thawed me some because I could hear the quiet exchange between Caleb and one of the other guys just outside the bathroom door. A moment later it opened again, admitting Wesley.

  “Kit, um... Caleb thought maybe it’s best not to leave you alone, but I understand why you maybe don’t want to see any of us...” His mouth twisted downward, and he shuffled his feet. “Would you be okay with me hanging out with you for a bit? We don’t have to talk.”

  I dragged my gaze from the bubbles to his face and stared for a long time. I didn’t get them. None of them. Wesley least of all.

  “Aren’t you worried?” I asked suddenly.

  He flushed, his face crimson. “About ahh..?” He couldn’t seem to finish the question and settled for pointing at me in the bathtub.

  I didn’t give a damn if he saw me naked. “About your family. Grant and your mother.”

  Strangely, he looked relieved rather than concerned. Venturing into the bathroom, he closed the door behind him. Finally, he settled into the same spot he’d sat in when I bathed the last time.

  “Um, no?” He sounded confused. “Why would I be?”

  “That bitch threatened them. She said if I don’t turn myself in that she will go after your loved ones. You said your little brother was in a wheelchair... what if…?” My voice hitched, and the tears threatened again. It was bad enough I had Lucy on my conscience. I couldn’t fathom it happening to
other innocents.

  “Oh that.” Wesley nodded, but he still didn’t sound concerned. “No, I’m not worried. She was bluffing. We all got new surnames and histories when we joined Omega Group. There is no way of connecting our families back to us. Even if she had somehow worked it out, which I promise you she hasn’t, I have all sorts of alerts and cameras set up so I know they’re safe.”

  “What about the others?” No one could be totally safe.

  “Um, well, I guess they won’t mind me saying too much under the circumstances...” he spoke to himself thoughtfully. “River, I think he already told you, has no remaining family. The twins lost their parents and older brother in a plane crash when they were little. They grew up with an aunt, but there is definitely no love lost there. Cole...” He paused, his mouth twisting slightly. “Cole lost his mother when he was twelve. As for loved ones, they’re all here in this house.”

  I considered his words. Despite Wesley’s objections, I still didn’t believe Dupree had been bluffing. Wesley’s little brother seemed like the most obvious target, but it could be anyone. I found it unlikely that the other four men in the house had literally no one else they cared about.

  “Come on,” Wesley said, rising and grabbing a massive towel. “Your water is probably getting cold, and you’re running out of bubbles.”

  He held the towel out and politely averted his gaze, his cheeks flaming. My bubble cover was sparse at best. Standing, I took the towel from him and wrapped it around me before stepping out of the tub. Someone had brought in a change of clothes for me at some point. Probably a good idea since all my other clothes had been drenched in blood.

  “You can, um, sleep in my bed if you want? I know you’re still pretty pissed at everyone... I can go sleep on the couch or something.” His awkwardness made it impossible to stay mad at him.

  I was too tired to be angry. “Don’t; your bed is big enough. We can share.”

  38

  Wesley wasn’t in his room when I left the bathroom. I should probably get food, but I wasn’t remotely hungry and I didn’t want to go out to the kitchen. Picking a side of the bed, I slid under the covers. With the lights off, I was trapped in a dark room with only myself for company.

  The door cracked open, and a broad frame in shadow padded in and came to crouch beside the bed.

  “Hey Kitty Kat,” Caleb whispered cautiously, probably expecting me to snap at him again.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “Wesley just had to make a couple of calls, so I thought you might want some company until you fall asleep?”

  I nodded, scooted toward the middle of the bed to make some space, then lifted the blankets in silent invitation for him to join me. His sigh of relief was just barely audible as he crawled in and encased me in his arms.

  “I know it’s not enough, but I’m so sorry. You know I love Lucy, too.” He breathed the words against my hair. Guilt stabbed at me for my behavior that day.

  I snuggled tighter against him. “I’m sorry for being a bitch. It wasn’t your fault.” It really wasn’t; it was mine. And there was no way in hell I was going to let anyone else suffer on my behalf, ever again.

  I drifted to sleep in his tight embrace, only waking when he slipped away and Wesley climbed into the other side of the bed. When Wesley stayed on his side of the bed, I scooted over to invade his personal space.

  He welcomed me with one of his hugs.

  “Thank you for being you,” I whispered into his chest, and he just hugged me tighter in response.

  “Get some sleep, Kit,” he told me quietly. “It’s almost five in the morning.”

  I nodded against him, concentrating on my breathing and slowing it down to a pace suited to someone asleep, forcing my muscles to relax. It wasn’t long before Wesley really went to sleep and I was able to slide out of the bed without waking him.

  As silently as possible, I crept out to the hallway. The house was dark and silent. Retrieving my bag from the closet, I changed my clothes there in the hallway. Dressed, I made my way to the kitchen. Caleb’s mustang was parked in the driveway. That would save me from having to open the garage and risk waking the guys.

  He kept his keys in a bowl near the door, so I retrieved them and slid out into the night.

  Once in his car, I released the emergency brake and allowed the vehicle to roll further down the driveway before starting the engine. When I’d made it through the first five minutes on the road with no one following me, I let myself relax.

  I’d escaped undetected but I couldn’t shake the sickening feeling that something bad was about to happen. It had been gnawing at me since the moment I stepped out of the bath and had finally got bad enough that I needed to act. I could only assume someone was going after Lucy again, and I needed to go back there and keep her safe.

  39

  The drive flew by, and I was running on autopilot. I didn’t speed, not when the last thing I wanted to risk was getting pulled over. Before I knew it, I was back in the hospital parking lot, then rushing down the quiet hallway towards Lucy’s room. I had no idea what this feeling was that was pushing me forwards but I just needed to make sure she was okay. She was the one person I loved more than anything in this world.

  Miraculously, no one stopped me and I pushed through the door to her room seconds later. She was exactly as I had left her. Unconscious and hooked up to a million beeping machines. I heaved a sigh of relief, prematurely, as two huge shadows stepped into my line of sight from where they had been hidden.

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” one of them warned as I stepped back into a defensive stance, “not if you want your friend to live.” The other figure took one step closer to Lucy’s comatose body and cocked his gun, pointing it at her.

  “Please,” I whispered, staring wide eyed at the gun pointed at my best friend’s head, “don’t hurt her. It’s me Dupree is after.”

  “We know.” The man speaking was just slightly behind me so I couldn’t get a clear look at him, but the cold press of metal against my spine said he had a gun on me too. “The boss is going to be real pleased with this turn of events.”

  His friend chuckled and the sound scratched across my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. The speaker prodded me with his gun.

  “You and me, we’re going to walk out of here real casual like and get into a car. My buddy here, he’s going to stay and keep an eye on your friend. Just to make sure you cooperate. Understood?” I nodded frantically. Anything to get them away from Lucy.

  “How do I know you won’t kill her after I’m gone?” I asked in a shaking voice.

  “You don’t,” he gloated, “but if you don’t come with me, we will kill her. Right here, in front of you. Is that what you want?”

  I shook my head and he prodded me again with his gun. “Well then, let’s move.”

  Doing as I was told, I walked with him out to the parking lot. I didn’t dare try and raise an alarm or fight him. My safety wasn’t worth Lucy’s life. Surely I could find a way to free myself later once I knew she was okay.

  Once we reached a nondescript looking van I felt the familiar jab of pain in the side of my neck as the man behind me plunged a syringe into my flesh.

  I woke alone in a tiny concrete room and lying on the single piece of furniture—a cot. The door was a steel mesh, with holes probably barely big enough for a small hand to fit through. The cell opposite mine appeared identical.

  Clearly, Dupree’s wish had come true. She had me at her mercy. I could only hope that now she would leave Lucy and the guys alone. I would never forgive myself if any of the guys had to suffer the same heartbreak if Dupree made good on her threat.

  I tucked my knees up and leaned my back against the concrete wall, waiting for the drug induced headache to subside. It wouldn’t surprise me if it were hours before Dupree showed her face. If she showed it at all. In the movies, the bad guys left their captives to sweat it out in solitude before confronting them.

  I passed the time counti
ng the squares in the mesh door, and sure enough, it was hours before I heard any kind of movement. When I did, I sat up at attention, as it sounded like something heavy was being dragged down the steep staircase and along the narrow corridor.

  Several guards came into sight, but they ignored my cage in favor of the one opposite. They tossed a body inside, locked the door, then clomped away down the corridor without a word to me. That worked; I didn’t want their attention.

  Once they were gone, I rose and peered through the door to study the man in the other cell. My stomach lurched when I recognized the tattoos on one of the limp arms.

  “Fuck. Austin, you fucking dickhead, what the fuck are you doing here?”

  When he twitched suddenly, rolling over and spitting out a mouthful of blood, I jerked back a step.

  “Nice to see you too, Princess.” He groaned, dragging himself up to his hands and knees with agonizing slowness.

  “What are you doing here? I left to keep you all safe, you goddamn fucking moron!” I wanted to bang my fists against the cell until the door shattered.

  “No shit.” He glared at me, one eye blooming a beautiful shade of purple. “I think it’s fairly obvious I followed your stupid ass when I saw you sneaking out. Figured you were likely to pull an idiotic move like this and, oh look, I was right. Always nice to be predictable, sweetheart.”

  At a loss for the right retort, I screamed in frustration and slammed my hand against the cage door.

  “Good comeback.” The infuriating man laughed, then winced.

  At the top of the stairs, the door opened again. Austin collapsed back against the floor, and I waited to see what fresh hell approached.

  40

  The footsteps grew closer, slow and measured. Definitely not the guards. I checked Austin, but he was slumped as though the guards had just dumped him there. I steeled myself in preparation for who might be coming, but nothing could have prepared me for… Simon?

 

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