He retrieved the key she’d given him and unlatched the deadbolt, opening the door to ominous silence as dread choked him. A quick survey found the kitchen and living room empty. He rushed down the hall to her bedroom, pushed the door open, and for several precious seconds his heart ceased to beat.
Pen was gagged and bound to her bed. Stripped nearly bare, she struggled against her bonds, screaming and thrashing to get free. The wild panic in her eyes was a sight that would haunt him the rest of his life. Kyle canvassed the empty room as he rushed inside. Where was that little prick? He had to be hiding somewhere. The second he got Pen out of here, he was going to hunt that bastard down.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He rushed to her side. Spinning the lock of the zip-tie around to the wood of the newel post, he slipped his fingers beneath the plastic strap and jerked down, breaking it free.
She screamed against the gag, eyes darting wildly as she desperately shook her head. He searched for the buckle to unfasten the gag, but couldn’t find it through her tangled mess of hair. Tears streamed from her eyes as she tried to yell something he couldn’t understand. “Hold still. I can’t find the buckle.”
Her eyes were pleading with him to hurry, but he was moving as fast as he could. His fingers finally grazed the metal and he unfastened the latch. The moment he pulled the gag free, her gaze darted over his shoulder and she cried, “Behind you!”
He spun around as the pop of a Co2 cartridge exploded. A dart whizzed past his shoulder, burying into the sheetrock and he locked eyes with Bob, the Animal Control officer, standing in the entrance of the closet. A moment of surprise registered on his face when he missed the shot. He quickly reloaded the gun with another dart as Kyle bailed off the bed and charged him.
He caught Bob’s wrist as he pulled the trigger and Kyle nearly took a tranq dart in the chest. He forced his arm up, the dart lodging in the ceiling as he slammed his elbow into Bob’s ribs and felt a satisfying crunch. The expulsion of air sent him hunching over and the gun clattered to the floor. Kyle kicked it beneath the bed and met Bob’s jaw with an upper-cut that sent him stumbling into the walk-in closet.
Kyle dove in after him, catching Bob in the chest with his shoulder and taking him down—hard. He slammed his fist into the bastard’s jaw, once, twice. His knuckles split open when they connected with teeth as he rained punches down on the man who’d threatened Pen’s life. No win in the cage ever felt as satisfying as beating the shit out of this sick, twisted fuck.
He was vaguely aware of the sound of sirens outside, the slamming of car doors, and charging of feet as police officers stormed the house. He didn’t stop swinging until several officers pulled him away.
“He’s down, Kyle. It’s over.”
He locked eyes with Detective Paskel, the haze of rage slowly fading. The cop had him pushed against the wall, an officer on each arm and Paskel’s forearm crowbarring him across the chest. They were wise not to let him go or he’d have been back on that bastard to finish what he’d started. Two more officers pushed past them and entered the closet. When they came out, they had Bob Pratt cuffed and in custody.
“Pen.” Kyle shoved off the officers that were reluctant to release him.
At Paskel’s conceding nod, they let him go and he rushed to her side, but another officer was already there, cutting her free. She scrambled across the bed and threw herself into his arms. The moment they made contact, she broke down, sobbing against him. He held her tight as the detective stepped away, giving them a moment of privacy and shouting orders to the arresting officers to secure the scene. Someone approached them and draped a robe around Pen’s shoulders and Kyle helped her slip it on.
“As soon as Pratt’s cleared by medical, I want him booked and waiting for me in an interrogation room. I’ve got another woman to find.”
It was a sad reminder that for Detective Paskel and Peyton Sinclair, this nightmare was not over. But for Pen, she was finally safe and a predator was off the streets. He shuddered to think of how close he’d come to losing her. Hugging her tighter, he was reminded how small she was. So fragile…
No, not fragile. His Pen was tough; she was a fighter. She’d survived a hellacious past and a psychotic madman, and she was still here…still standing.
It was late by the time they got home. Pen was physically and emotionally exhausted. After the photographing, the statements, and the chaos of having her place turned into a crime scene, Kyle had noticed her flagging and finally said enough, announcing that he was taking her home.
After drawing a steaming bath, he settled into the tub with her, seeming to know exactly what she needed to ease the pain and stiffness of her aching, sore muscles. Emotionally, she was numb. Perhaps it was shock, because she still couldn’t believe what had happened. Kyle’s arms came around her, his legs cradling hers as she leaned back against him and closed her eyes. They sat like this for a long time, with him just holding her, comforting her with his presence.
“I don’t understand,” she said softly, breaking the introspective silence. “I sensed that he was off, but I work for a psychiatrist. That’s to be expected with some patients. He never did anything to make me think he was behind this. If anything, I thought he might have a thing for Vi. How did he get my number?”
“I suspect you’ll have your answers in the next few days. I don’t think Detective Paskel is going to leave any questions where this guy is concerned.”
“I suppose it doesn’t really matter now. It’s over.”
She sighed and leaned her head back against his shoulder. He hugged her tighter, resting his cheek against hers and whispered, “Tetelesti.”
A small smile curved her lips. “You’re right. It is finished.”
From this moment on, she was only looking ahead. She’d been through worse. Bob Pratt was not going to be the stone that broke her. She would take comfort in knowing that he was no longer free to hurt anyone else, and she trusted Detective Paskel to pursue justice—for her, and for Peyton.
“You know… It’s official now.”
He nuzzled her cheek and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. “Yeah? What’s that?” he murmured, kissing the shell of her ear.
“You’re my hero.”
Epilogue
“Oh, my…” Pen exclaimed with a mouth full of food. “You weren’t kidding, Kyle. This is the best lasagna I’ve ever had.”
Willow laughed and Kyle winked at his little sister. She’d gotten her wish; their little family was finally back together. They were having their Thursday night dinner. It was overdue, but better late than never. And Kyle had to admit, it felt good having everyone under one roof again—even if it was just for the evening to honor the Scott’s long-standing tradition. He’d missed this…more than he’d wanted to admit.
“Thanks. It’s our mom’s recipe. And Kyle’s favorite,” Willow added. “If you want, I’ll teach you how to make it. The secret is in the homemade sauce.”
“I would love that. Thank you.”
“I’m pretty sure I would have starved to death if it wasn’t for your mom’s cooking,” Regan added between mouthfuls of garlic bread. “Wait until you try her cherry upside-down cake. Growing up, I lived for Thursday family nights. They were my saving grace.”
“Mom was everyone’s saving grace,” Kyle commented. “Dad couldn’t cook for shit.”
Regan and Willow laughed.
“You’re telling me. I’m just glad that after all these years we could keep the tradition alive,” Willow said, giving Kyle and Regan a warm, grateful smile.
“Well, I’m glad to be a part of it,” Pen said, raising her glass for a toast.
“Welcome to the family,” Willow added, lifting her glass.
Pen had officially moved in with him today, and Willow had moved out. It was bittersweet, this new phase of their lives, but Kyle had to admit, it was overdue. He’d never seen his sister so happy, or so in love. Watching Regan with her, he wondered how he could have been so blind to wha
t had been so obvious. Those two were meant to be together.
“To Pen,” Regan added, raising his glass. “For accomplishing the impossible and stealing this hardass’ heart.”
They all laughed.
“To family,” Kyle toasted. Two wine glasses and two beer bottles clinked in the center of the table.
“So,” Regan said, taking a bite of lasagna. “Am I gonna have to start callin’ you Coach 2.0 now, or what?”
Kyle chuckled. “Kinda looks that way, huh?”
As of 12:45, Kyle was officially the new manager and coach of Miller MMA. “Gonna need an assistant and a computer system. Hell if I know how Coach managed to run that place on paper. Whaddaya say, Will?”
“Hmm?” She glanced over at him with a mouthful of food, looking confused as to what he was asking her.
“You want the job or what? I know it’ll only be temporary until you get through nursing school, but I could really use your help getting some new programs up and running. I think—”
“Yes! Yes, I want the job!” She shot out of the chair and raced over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank you!”
He chuckled and hugged her back. “I know before you left you’d been hoping Coach would take you on as his assistant. I think you’d be great for the job.”
Regan caught his eye and he glanced at his friend. He smiled and gave Kyle an approving nod.
“All right, then. We start tomorrow morning. Eight a.m. sharp.”
For the first time in five years, Kyle could honestly say he was hopeful. He was optimistic about his career, things were going well Willow and Regan, and he was looking forward to a future with Pen.
Life was good…but the journey to get here had been tough. Through it all, he’d learned a valuable lesson—fight for the people you love, and never let go.
COMING DECEMBER 12, 2017!
One and Done
An Island of Love novel
“Surfs up! Hop on my board and I’ll give you the ride of your life…”
~Balen Kroft, International Surfing Champion
“If you kiss enough frogs, eventually you’re going to get a fungus.”
~Autumn Harris
When Autumn’s best friend surprises her with a girls’ getaway in Cyprus for her 30th birthday, she makes up her mind that now is her time to shine. This is exactly the fresh start she needs to put the past and a messy divorce behind her. She might have bought into the ideology of Mr. Right once, but that myth was long busted—been there, done that—and she has the broken heart to prove it.
When a family emergency causes her bestie to bail on her minutes before their flight takes off, Autumn finds herself alone and bound for the “Island of Love.” Her friend had an itinerary chock-full of girlfriend goodies planned—massages, salsa lessons, parasailing… Okay, maybe not parasailing, but this was going to be a week of fun, and now it’s a week for one. Armed with her Best Friends Guide Book for Having Fun—and no best friend—Autumn plans to check into her beachside villa with her new BFF, Captain Morgan.
Being ranked one of the top surfers in the world does have its perks, but discovering your sex-tape was released on social media? Definitely not one of them. On the heels of a scandal that has sponsors threatening to cancel his contracts, Balen Kroft has strict instructions from his publicist to lie low for the next week while this whole fiasco blows over. Seven days of incognito before hitting the surf again at the Titans of Mavericks Invitational might not be such a bad thing—rest, relaxation, and fun in the sun… Until he comes face-to-face with his own personal riptide. If he’s not careful, Autumn Harris may just pull him under.
The fiery ginger has no idea who Balen really is and he’s determined to keep it that way. After the last eight months and a series of self-destructive behaviors, he’s content to let her believe he’s a homeless, beach-bumming surfer, living a carefree life one day at a time.
Autumn’s sexy vagabond is just charming enough to convince her to let him crash in the spare room of her villa. In exchange, he offers to be her new bestie for the week, taking her on all the excursions her friend had planned. It’s a tempting offer… Her own personal tour guide and the possibility of some hot, no-strings, surfer-guy sex? What woman in her right mind would turn that down? She’s a big girl who knows the score. What can possibly go wrong?
Turn the page for an extended excerpt of this sexy island romance!
Chapter One
“Excuse me! Coming through, people!”
Autumn stood back, watching as her friend struggled to drag her luggage down the narrow aisle. Cutting Summer a wide berth, she pretended she had no idea who that crazy woman with no concept of size regulation was. How they let her on the plane with that thing was a freaking mystery. Summer’s suitcase could have doubled for a body bag.
“Oops, sorry… Pardon me.”
Autumn mumbled her own apologies to the assaulted passengers as she squeezed past them, none looking very forgiving. By the time they made it to their seats at the back of the plane, she was pretty sure her friend had run over at least two people’s toes and given the guy ahead of them a concussion. That girl was not as strong as she thought she was, and Summer just dropped her suitcase on some poor man’s head.
Yeah, that just happened.
Thank God he was gracious about the whole thing. It probably didn’t hurt that her tits were in his face as she leaned toward him, profusely apologizing while trying to hoist her body bag off his lap.
“Why don’t I just put it up there for you?” he offered, rising from his seat with her suitcase in hand.
Holy shit, he was big…and hot. There was no use pretending he wasn’t. Sitting down, Autumn couldn’t fully appreciate the sheer size of what must easily be six-foot-three-inches of rock hard muscle. A flutter of feminine awareness awakened in her stomach like a baby butterfly taking flight for the first time after struggling free of its cocoon. The foreign sensation caught her off guard and she pressed her hand to the flat of her belly. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been around a man and felt…well, anything.
“Thanks. That would be great,” Summer said, dropping dramatically into the seat two rows behind him.
The man gave Autumn an apologetic smile for holding up the line, but it quickly changed to something a lot smarmier when his gaze dropped below her neck. And just like that, her butterfly’s wings were clipped and that little Monarch torpedoed to the ground. Why was she surprised? She should have been used to it by now. God blessed her with an impressive pair of breasts, though most days she’d argue it was a curse.
Despite popular belief amongst the male species, she was more than just a tight ass and a great rack. As of ten seconds ago, her patience had dwindled to a two, so if this guy knew what was good for him, he’d get his eyes back in his head and move the hell out of her way.
With little to no effort, he stuffed Summer’s suitcase in the overhead compartment. But instead of returning to his seat, Passenger 32-C turned to the side and gestured her past him with a gallant sweep of his arm. There was no way they were both going to fit through that aisle. Not without a lot of up close and personal contact, and Autumn was not giving this skeeze a cheap thrill.
“That’s all right. I can wait for you to sit back down. I’m not in that big of a hurry.”
His sheepish grin confirmed he’d just been busted, but the guy didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed about it. Yep, total doucher. Just her luck, the first guy to light her fire since Alex doused it would have to be this yahoo. Did all women naturally attract these assholes, or was she just lucky?
If Autumn’s life were a Marvel comic, this would be her super power. Not only could she spot a douchebag a mile away, she also seemed to draw them in like moths to a flame—which was why Autumn Harris was officially done with men. #iheartmyvibrator. Roger Rabbit never cheated on her and could make her come in under sixty seconds, so who needed men? Certainly not her.
The guy folded his
massive frame into his seat as she promptly pushed past him, her eyes rolling in disgust. If Autumn didn’t know better, she’d swear the guy’s throaty chuckle followed her all the way to her seat. Summer was already settled by the time she got there and, bless her heart, she’d saved the aisle for Autumn. Her friend knew she was claustrophobic and hated to fly—a lovely combination. So then why, one might wonder, was she on this airplane bound for Cyprus, A.K.A the Island of Love? Because her best friend and travel agent extraordinaire came across an amazing vacation package for two and she was taking Autumn on a girls’ getaway for her 30th birthday.
“See, this is exactly why you should check your bag.” Autumn dropped down beside her, carrying nothing but a small purse. “Mr. Helpful back there tried to feel me up on the way to my seat.”
“You should have let him. He’s hot.”
Autumn shifted in her chair to get a better look at her friend. She couldn’t tell if Summer was joking or not. She had a sarcastic sense of humor that, on most days, Autumn could wholeheartedly appreciate. But today? Not so much. Autumn was dreading the sixteen-hour flight ahead of them and praying they had enough alcohol on the plane to get her there.
Before she could tell her friend to kiss her ass—because when you’ve been besties since kindergarten, you could do things like that—Summer’s cell started to ring. “Aren’t you supposed to have that thing shut off?”
“The plane isn’t moving yet.” She rifled through her purse that was currently singing, if you like piña coladas, and Autumn most certainly did—anything with rum in it would do nicely right about now. Summer found her phone as she was getting caught in the rain.
“Mom? Yeah, I’m on the plane. We’re about to take off. What’s up? What? Me-ma is dead?”
In for the Win Page 30