Solace (The Kingwood Series Book 4)

by S. L. Scott

  “This is one of those times,” she says. Why is she referencing our conversation about why I had to kill someone? Without regret. “A situation like this is why you made the decision you did, right?” Her words are fierce. Stronger than I thought possible.

  I glance back at Brooks who yells, “Shut her up.” His hand is shaking. Mine is not. He doesn’t want to shoot me. What kind of money collector is this clown?

  When I look back at Delilah, she’s not scared. She’s not shaking. She’s strong and almost relaxed, even though a gun is being held to her head. But I won’t let her die. “Yes, just like this.”

  I’m just about to shoot Brooks when she says, “I understand why you did it now.” Before Benson can react, she shoves her elbow into his ribs and reaches down. Pulling a gun from her boot, she spins and shoots before he can aim his gun at her.

  Brooks shoots when I roll to the side. The bullet penetrates the wood, and I aim over my shoulder, shooting him in the thigh, choosing to spare his life for the time being. I’m on my feet and over him. Cole is dragging his ass into the kitchen. “Get the fuck up and call the cops.”

  Benson is wailing and Brooks is turning white. Standing side by side with Delilah, both of us facing in opposite directions with our guns aimed on these assholes, I say, “Nice shooting.” She’s going to be in shock. I need her to stay focused. Just for a little while longer.

  Her hip bumps mine. “You’re not the only one who used to practice shooting with a BB gun.” And amazingly, she can even find humor in this. Who is this girl?

  “It paid off.” I like her cockiness, but with Cole whining on the phone in the kitchen, we’re going to be here a while. This situation needs to be handled or contained. Directing them with my gun, I say, “Move over. Next to each other.”

  Delilah turns with her gun still aimed on them. When they slide over, she takes a step back, letting me take over. Blood is messy. “You guys look like you might bleed out. This is where I give you a choice. You can either make sure you never come back to this town and our farm or I kill you and feed you to the fishes out back before the cops arrive. Which do you choose?”

  Grabbing his leg in agony, Benson replies, “Our boss will kill us, so we’re already dead men. You need to let us go.”

  “Can’t trust you.”

  “I swear. We won’t. No one will. I’ve got a wife—”

  Squatting down, I look him in his beady eyes. “You threatened my fiancée with bodily harm. You threatened her life. And now you beg for your life by telling me you have a wife?” He squirms under the intensity. “I have a good mind to take you out just for disrespecting her.”

  “Don’t. Please. No trouble. For you.”

  I add, “And her.”

  “Yeah, and the broad. It’s Cutler we’re after.”

  “Right.”

  “We made a deal. There’s no going back on a deal.” We’ll see what sort of deal you get with the sheriff’s department.

  I turn my attention to where it needs to be right now. Sirens sound in the distance. Red and blue lights flash across the fields and invade the living room. “You know I can’t let you go, but I’ll let you live. This time.” Fuck. I just want this nightmare to be over. I need to get to my girl.

  “This gun is still registered to your daddy, Delilah. You need to file the proper paperwork to put it in your name.”

  The farmhouse is shot up. Holes are in the walls, the floor, and in people. Cutler is in the ambulance on his way to the hospital, two gambling-ring criminals are also on their way to the hospital, and all Whaley’s concerned about is the proper paperwork for the gun Delilah used to protect us.

  “I’ll take care of it this week,” she says. Paloma wraps a blanket around her. Delilah’s dress has dried from the warm night air, but when you’re up that high, running off adrenaline, the fall is sometimes chilling.

  I take her hand. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s just catching up with me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine.”

  She’s not a good liar and at times like this I appreciate that fact. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I hold her while we finish giving our statements.

  In towns like McKinney, the whole jail staff comes out for a lookieloo, so we’re grateful we don’t have to go down to the station. Three hours of questioning is quite enough. We’re repeating ourselves with each round. Delilah’s exhausted, so I wrap this up. “We’re done, Deputy. If you have more questions, you’ll have to contact our lawyer and set up a formal interview.”

  Whaley scratches his chin. “I think we have enough to file our reports. If we don’t, we’ll be in touch.”

  “What about your men inside?”

  “They’ll be there all night. I suggest you find another place to stay for a few nights while we do our investigation.”

  Delilah walks toward the fields and stands, staring out. With her arms crossed, I can tell she’s struggling and doesn’t want an audience. “Thank you, officers.” I walk to her, wishing I could make this all go away, like it never happened. Sometimes bad shit happens though. I hate that the outside made its way to the inside of our little piece of paradise. I don’t want to startle her, so I speak before reaching her, “Whaley said we could go.”

  She glances back to me and then returns her eyes to the field. “Where can we go?”

  “Anywhere we want.”

  “Paloma said we could stay with them. She has a sewing room with a foldout couch.”

  “Billy called. They wouldn’t let him on the property, but he said we’re welcome on his farm.” I move next to her but keep my eyes ahead.

  “Your mom called me.” Taking my hand, she holds it. “She said she wants us to come over.”

  “Tomorrow. How about I take you to a hotel so we can decompress?” We’ve had a lot happen and we’ve told the story more times than I care to tell again. “How about a room just for us?”

  “Can we treat ourselves and get one with room service? I’m hungry. By the time we reach a hotel, I’ll be starved.”

  “You can order the whole menu if you want.”

  A sliver of a smile finds its way home on her pretty face. I’ll spend the night coaxing the full one out, though, as she deserves to smile.

  An hour and a half later, we’re standing in our room and she’s staring at the tub, her tone full of disappointment. “Normally I’d take a bath to wind down.” Coming to sit on the bed next to me, she says, “I think I’ll skip it tonight.”

  Almost drowning in one makes her reaction reasonable. Fucker. He’s stolen that from her too. “Sorry I wasn’t there sooner. I thought he’d run, not gone inside.”

  “I thought he was on drugs. Now I’m thinking he was on a mission.” Resting against my chest, her arm drapes over my middle.

  My arm curves around her back, holding her to me. “He only had one bullet in his gun, Delilah.” I don’t mean to sound ominous, but his intentions were clear.

  “He was going to drown me.”

  “And then kill himself.”

  “His life is shit. He’s shit. I hate him so fucking much.”

  Swearing doesn’t come natural to her. The words are distorted, dripping from a place that should never reside inside her heart—hate.

  Sitting up, her palm presses over my heart, and she says, “What if you wouldn’t have found me in time?”

  Caressing her cheek, I lean forward and kiss her. “You saved yourself. I have no doubt after the courage you showed tonight that you would still be here.”

  “In your arms?” It’s an odd question, but the whole night was odd.

  “I have everything to live for now, so no one’s taking me out that easily.”

  Her smile returns, the light in her eyes smothering the darkness that tried to win, tried to take her hostage.

  A knock on the door signals our room service. I hop up and let them push the cart of food inside. After tipping, we’re left alone with enough food to feed a small army. Her eyes are wide and
my stomach growls. “Was the drive worth it?”

  Grabbing a bowl of spaghetti, I can tell by the way she settles back on the bed and starts flicking through channels that she’s content . . . for now. “It was definitely worth it.”

  I’ve been paid a shitload of money over the last few years. It gave me financial security. Something in the bank. But living within the confines of darkness, at times existing just outside the law, I didn’t have this. Contentment. With her, my girl, I’ve found it. Peace, solace, that no paycheck ever provided.

  I’ll take this life over the last every day of the week and twice on Sundays. I reach for the steak because there’s no time like the present to enjoy a few of the finer things in life.

  28

  Delilah

  My throat is flooded.

  Water overflows.

  I can’t breathe.

  I savor the fiery orange on the inside of my lids. Orange means life.

  Flailing my arms to find anything to hold on to that will give me the leverage to save myself is useless. I’m held under the faucet as it pours over my face, drowning me in his arms.

  . . . The horror I felt in that moment has worked its way into my veins. It’s attached itself in ways I can’t remove. I was so close to that slice of paradise with Jason that even though we survived and still have that future, I don’t think I’ll be able to easily let last night go as I almost met death.

  I thought I was doomed to spend eternity tangled up in Cole and death, hate, and hell.

  Jason stirs and I look back. Just the sight of him, the feel of him and me alone in this room has me smiling, though. He once told me he was a soldier, a mercenary of sorts, but when I look at him I only see my dark-haired knight. His sleep is steady, his features finding peace, as his body lies bare for me. The sheet is tangled around a leg, exposing parts of him that I’m the only one privy to these days.

  How can he possibly be that hard when he’s sleeping?

  Men will always be a mystery to me.

  It’s a mystery I’m happy to solve over the next sixty or seventy, or more years. I’d love to live a long life with him. The years we were apart, when he was off doing those things he doesn’t like to talk about, will pale in comparison to the years we’ll spend together. One day they won’t matter at all.

  One day, last night won’t matter.

  We survived. Together. That’s all that will matter when our souls leave this place.

  I shut the blinds and crawl back into bed next to him. Careful not to wake him, I untangle the sheet and cover us both up. I lie there staring at him. Even in the dark he’s so damn handsome. It doesn’t matter that time has touched the carefree youth we once existed in.

  Life has changed him.

  Sighing, I let my mind go where I usually stop it from going.

  Life has changed me, too.

  Lying here now, I know it had to. It would have with or without my permission anyway. I need to accept it.

  Is that how he sleeps so soundly tonight? Even after what could have been a horrific tragedy?

  Is the peace that keeps his features softer in the moonlight his acceptance that the world has bad people in it? He’s just learned to deal with it?

  If he had his way, my life would remain pristine and untouched by the outside world. It’s good in theory but not realistic. I’m human, which means I’ll make bad choices . . . breaking up with Jason and trusting Cole are hopefully the worst. It also means I have a chance to start over, clean the slate, and move on. Move on is what I intend to do. I feel so incredibly fortunate that I get to move on with him this time.

  I run my fingers lightly over his arms, appreciating the dip and rise of the muscles beneath. After the events from earlier I shouldn’t want him. Is it wrong to want to get lost in something wonderful for a while?

  His eyes open. “Delilah.” My name languidly rolls off his tongue as if we have more than one lifetime together. In no great hurry, his hand reaches for me.

  “Make me forget for a little while.”

  Reaching for my top, he starts pulling it up. I raise my arms as it’s taken off and tossed aside. When his large hands take control of my breasts—kneading and squeezing—I close my eyes and enjoy the feel of him and how my body responds to him, to his touch. Moving on top of me, I open for him, opening myself and letting him in.

  I need his weight, his lips on mine, the rough tips of his fingers scratching across my skin. I want him to mark me as his. I don’t need to feel pretty to the world, to wear a tiara and smile. I just want him to find me beautiful when I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is a mess. I only want to be how he sees me, the real me . . . the bare and bold me. The me I am with him.

  His mouth moves to my neck. He kisses and sucks. My hand slides into the back of his hair, wanting this, wanting him to want me like I want him—ravaged and real, carnal and lustful.

  He warms my neck as his fingers flame the fires of desire between my legs. “Yes,” I whisper in his ear.

  “I want all of you, baby.”

  “Take me. Take every last bit of me.”

  The stubble of his beard has grown in overnight and scrapes against my chest. My skin is left raw and stinging. I love it. It’s not so pretty, fitting for how I feel. He looks at me, his eyes gently drifting back forth between mine. “Sometimes the bad helps us remember the good. Let me be that good for you.” He is so good. He knows exactly what I need, how I need to be loved.

  “Leave no part untouched.”

  He pushes inside me, clearly needing me like I need him. My back arches and my head goes back, leaving my neck exposed. Jason pulls back and thrusts forward while his lips find my throat again.

  Wrapping his arms under me, he uses my body against his, uses me for his pleasure while heightening mine. Our bodies start to sweat, sliding with ease and creating more. The sounds of our love are the only sounds I hear. The troubles from the night drift away as I find the ecstasy in his arms instead.

  “I love you,” I exhale with every breath. “I love you. I love you.”

  Our bodies slow until our souls sigh in satisfaction. His head rests on my chest and I hold him there, never wanting to let go.

  Time doesn’t stand still for us. It ticks by as we lose minutes or days, like the years we lost that we’ll never get back. This time there’s no true loss because it’s time I’ve spent losing with him. Allowing the ugly of the day to fade away, together we find our own safe haven. I’ve found solace in his arms.

  Moving to lie next to me, his hand covers my cheeks. He kisses me gently on the lips and whispers, “I didn’t use protection.”

  With my lips against his, I kiss him back with such care for this man I love so deeply. I fall back on my pillow and twirl his hair between my fingers. “I know.”

  I would welcome a baby into this world if it were his, if he was there with me to prove that when lives are meant to be entwined, they twist themselves completely into eternity.

  “Let’s get married as soon as we can get away from here.”

  “Away?”

  “I want to show you all the places I went looking for you.”

  “You didn’t have to leave to find me. I was here waiting for you all along.”

  “I didn’t know you were mine to find. I was searching for the next life. I wasn’t willing to lose you twice.”

  Oh God. All those years he’d believed I hated him. That I didn’t love him. But here he is, forgiving me when I can’t forgive myself. Could I be so kind if the roles had been reversed? My heart would be too damaged to repair if I had seen him with another woman. This man. This man before me is the most generous of beings. And like he once said, maybe my true heart now can heal the broken parts of his soul once and forever. “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for, honeysuckle?”

  “For assuming instead of trusting. I did more than break my heart. I broke yours, and that’s harder to live with.”

  Taking my hand, he places it ove
r his heart. “You healed this broken heart and settled my restless soul.” He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses each finger. He takes my left ring finger, closes his mouth around it, and then slides it out slowly. “If you could have any ring, what kind do you dream of?”

  “I don’t need rings or jewelry. I have everything I need right here.”

  Smiling, he chuckles. “Oh no, you don’t. You don’t get off that easy. I want everyone in Freeland County and wherever we travel to know you’re mine.”

  “And you’ll wear one because you’re mine.”

  “I will flash that ring every chance I get, proud to say I’m the lucky bastard who gets to go home with you every night.”

  Dawn peeks through the window. We slide farther under the covers. “I’m not ready to get up.”

  “Ricardo will manage the farm. Let’s stay a few days.”

  “Here at the hotel?”

  “Here in this bed. We’ll make love. We’ll eat like kings. We’ll binge on bad TV—”

  “And we’ll fuck.”

  “Fuck, it’s sexy when you say that.”

  Snuggling closer, I rest my head next to his on the pillow. I steal a quick kiss but he catches me before I sneak back to my side. “Better get used to this, honeysuckle.” Slipping his arm under me, we mold to each other. “I plan to hold you like this every night for the rest of our lives.”

  My eyelids dip closed, my body finally heavy with sleep, or maybe it’s that peace he found earlier. I turn and he spoons me, his arm wrapping over me. His breath is warm on my neck, but it’s even and comforting. Cocooned against him, I feel safe. “You saved me.”

  “I didn’t save you. You saved yourself.”

  “I’m not talking about last night.”

  No more words are needed. We both sigh in contentment and close our eyes.

  Just as I’m finding sleep, he whispers, “I’m going to make up for every minute of time we were apart. I promise I’ll give you the forever you deserve.”