by Karen Ball
The rifle …
They will kill you. That man of hers and his soldier friends. The minute you shoot, they’ll retaliate. And they won’t miss.
A gloating triumph bubbled up from within him as he lifted the rifle, fixed Kyla Justice in his sight. Death was a small price to pay for ending hers.
The cross hairs trembled, and he stilled, drawing in a steadying breath. There. A perfect sighting, right in the middle of her oh-so-smooth forehead.
His finger tightened, and he felt his tight mouth relax into a smile. “Good-bye, Miss Justice.” He laughed, and it felt good. “I’ll see you in hell.”
King K didn’t know what made him turn.
A nudge, though he wasn’t sure if it came from beside him or within. No matter. No time to think about it. There was only time to turn his head, but that was enough. Because there, just behind them, he saw what no one else did.
A rifle. Pointed directly at them. No, not at them …
King spun. No time for a warning. No time to do anything but throw himself at Kyla Justice. He heard her cry as he hit her. Almost smiled at the muffled outrage as he wrapped her in his arms, covering her with his body.
A heartbeat later he felt a sting at the back of his neck. Everything shifted. Slowed. He tried to move, to control his body, but it had stopped listening to him. Though he told his legs to move, they buckled, and he fell like a stone, taking Kyla Justice with him. Off in the distance chaos exploded. Angry voices. The pop pop of gunfire. A woman screaming. But it was all so tinny. So distant. And he was too tired to listen.
“Jamal.”
This voice caught him. “Tarik …” He forced his eyes open, saw his brother kneeling beside him, tears streaking his face. “Don’t cry, hijo. Don’t cry.”
Tarik’s fingers dug into King’s shirt. “Don’t you leave me! You hear? Don’t go!”
He wanted to do as his brother asked. No, demanded. But he was tired.
So tired. He focused his will on one hand, managed to lift it, lay it over his brother’s. Their eyes locked. “Te amo, hijo mio.”
His eyes drifted shut, and he sank into an engulfing void.
Kyla lay beneath King K’s heavy form, too stunned to cry. His arms were locked about her, his body curled over her like a weighted, protective blanket. Eyes squeezed shut, she dug her fingers into the heavy leather of his jacket. Waited. Held her breath. Listened.
But she knew. There was nothing for her to hear. No breath. No heartbeat.
No life.
King K was gone.
“Kyla!”
Rafael’s voice came to her, frantic, pleading. But still she couldn’t move. Couldn’t make herself leave this one who had given all to save her. She’d only caught a momentary glimpse of the shooter before King hit her, but she’d seen all she needed to.
Sheamus.
The rifle in his hands trained on her. A bitter smile on his face.
“Kyla, please, mija! Talk to me! Are you all right?”
King K’s body was tugged away from her. For a moment she resisted, held on to him, willing life back into his still form. Live! Please, please, live!
But other hands were stronger, and King was lifted away, leaving her exposed. She cried out, covering her face. Strong arms encircled her, cradled her close against a solid chest. Hands cupped her face.
“Kyla, look at me.”
She looked into Rafael’s eyes. Saw the fear, the worry, the burning anger. And, underlying it all, saw something that stole her breath.
Love. A deep, unwavering love that told her everything she could ever need to know.
She lifted a hand, pressed it to his face. “Rafe …”
“Are you all right?”
She swallowed at the raw, hoarse words. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not hurt?”
A shiver ripped through her, and she looked toward King K. Tarik was there, holding his brother’s head in his lap, tears streaming down his face. Kyla groaned, and turned back to Rafe.
“He saved me.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
“For all sad words of tongue and pen,
the saddest are these, ‘It might have been.’ ”
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER
“Truthful words stand the test of time,
but lies are soon exposed.”
PROVERBS 12:19
Sheamus was dying. The thought filled Fredrik’s mind as the scream of sirens sounded in the background, growing ever closer. The police. At last.
“Fredrik, I didn’t have a choice.”
He put a calming hand on Rafe’s arm. “I know. You had to shoot. Now help me, please. I must talk to my friend.”
Rafe helped Fredrik kneel beside Sheamus, the man’s gasping breaths as heartrending as his betrayal. Haunting emotion burned in his eyes.
“What”—low and wheezing, the words carried as much emotional pain as physical—“do you want?”
Fredrik shook his head. “To understand why.” He blinked back tears. “Why did you do this terrible thing?”
Sheamus squeezed his eyes shut and spat out an answer. “Two years! I spent two years preparing, working my way into your precious inner circle, gaining your trust …” A cough racked his body, but it was as though, once started, the tale demanded to be told. “I knew this day was coming, that we’d lose the church to Ballat. I’d been waiting years for it.”
The anger was so deep. How could he not have known this was in Sheamus’s heart? “But why?”
“All those years of paying tithes, of giving money to this place. I deserved something in return! And would have gotten it too. When we sold.”
Fredrik shook his head. “No, dear friend. I told you, selling was not possible …”
“You made certain of that, didn’t you? This stupid youth center of yours. You just had to see it built.”
So many things made sense. All Sheamus did to discourage. How the saboteur seemed to know what they were doing and when.
“You left me no choice, Fredrik.” The bitter accusation in Sheamus’s voice struck Fredrik’s heart. “I went to Ballat and offered my services. He understood what I was worth. Promised me a handsome sum, but only if he got the property.”
“And you did your best to ensure that.”
Hoarse laughter rasped free. “It wasn’t hard. Making sure Ballat and that filthy gang knew what was happening and when. Transposing numbers on order forms. Sawing through the rungs on an old wooden ladder.” His laugh deepened, brought on another coughing fit. “Arrange little accidents here and there. It was all so easy.”
Yes, Fredrik knew he was right. Because they’d trusted him.
He jumped when Sheamus gripped his arm. “Don’t you see? I would have had it all.”
“Everything, old friend, but what matters most.”
Sheamus opened his mouth, as though to refute Fredrik’s words, but he didn’t have the chance. With one final, gasping breath, his hand fell back to the ground … and he was gone.
Fredrik fought tears as he reached out to close unseeing eyes, took Sheamus’s wrinkled hands, and laid them across the still chest.
Then, as the sirens crescendoed around them and red lights flashed through the darkness, Fredrik bowed his head and begged God for mercy on his friend’s lost and tortured soul.
Kyla stood beside Rafe, waiting as Fredrik prayed.
The EMTs had done all they could to save Sheamus, but they were too late. The police had been there for what seemed like hours but couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes, taking statements and photos. Then they told Rafe they were ready to “process” Sheamus’s body and so she and Rafe walked over to tell Fredrik.
It was time to let Sheamus go.
The arm about Kyla was warm and strong, and she leaned close to this man she’d almost lost. This man she would never let go. “Help me up, please.”
Rafe gave her a squeeze, then moved to do as Fredrik asked. He kept his hand under the old man’s arm as he led him to Kyla. S
he put her hands out and embraced Fredrik. “I’m so sorry.”
His head nodded against hers. “Why such things happen, nor Got vaist. Only God knows.” He patted her shoulder and she stepped back. “Come, kinder”—his voice was surprisingly strong—“let us leave the good police to do what they must.”
The three walked toward the church, but as they reached the steps, Fredrik stopped and looked from Rafe to Kyla, a wonderful smile on his weathered features. “Oy, what a thought I just had!” He clapped his hands together, then reached out to them. Exchanging glances, they each took a hand.
“Mein kinder, what has happened has been so difficult. And losing Sheamus”—he faltered for a moment, then went on—“it’s been a terrible trial. But God has breathed a thought into me. One that will bring joy to our hearts, and celebration to all who have worked so hard.” He squeezed their hands. “But it rests with you to make this all so.”
Kyla saw her confusion reflected in Rafe’s dark eyes. “What do you want us to do?”
“You love each other, yes?”
Kyla couldn’t help it, she giggled. Rafe’s free arm slid around her, and those wonderful eyes, so full of love, looked down at her. His answer came sure and strong.
“Yes. Absolutely, yes.”
“Then forgive an old man his foolishness, but let me marry you. Here.” He pulled his hands free then spread them out, indicating the new building behind them. “In this place of new life and ministry.”
Kyla looked at Rafe, taking in the slow smile that lifted his lips, the sparkle in his eyes. When one dark brow arched, she knew his answer. For once in her life, she didn’t hesitate. Didn’t think through all the pros and cons. She just stepped into those waiting arms and lifted her lips for his kiss.
“So? Is this a yes?”
Fredrik’s tickled question almost set her giggling again, but she held it back, turning her head to deliver a stern glance. “No.” Before Fredrik’s face could fall any further, she clarified.
“This isn’t a yes, it’s a you-bet-your life!” She looked up at Rafe again. He hadn’t missed a beat at her seeming refusal. But then, why should he? His smile said he knew her better than she knew herself. “I love you, Kyla. Now and always. Marry me.”
She cupped his dear face. The face that had drawn her all those months ago. The face that had stayed with her all these years, even when she didn’t know it.
The face of love.
“Just try and stop me.”
His kiss made it clear he hadn’t the slightest intention of doing so.
FIFTY-NINE
“If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?”
STEPHEN LEVINE
“And now, may it please you to bless me and my family so that our dynasty may continue forever before you. For when you grant a blessing to your servant, O Sovereign LORD, it is an eternal blessing!”
2 SAMUEL 7:29
Wow.
Kyla blinked, trying absorb what she was seeing. But nothing had prepared her for this. She blinked again, but the vision before her remained.
She looked—
“Beautiful.”
Kyla turned, her smile warm, but whatever she’d intended to say to her sister screeched to an astonished halt.
Double wow.
“Ohh … Annie, you look like a princess.”
Annie came to slip an arm around Kyla’s waist. “It still makes me grin to hear you call me Annie.”
Kyla tilted her head. “Who says God doesn’t still work miracles?”
Annie chuckled, then turned them back toward the mirror. Joy inhabited her features. Kyla’s smile widened at the equal measure of joy in her own.
And why not? She’d never been so happy.
Annie’s arm hugged her. “I think we both look exactly as we should on such a wondrous day. Beautiful and utterly in love. So, are you ready?”
Kyla nodded. “More than I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Rafe is a lucky man.” Annie squeezed Kyla’s hand, and a twinkle brightened her eyes. “And so are you. He’s one handsome man.”
Kyla didn’t argue. How could she when she was flat-out grinning? “Yes, he is.”
“Not”—Annie gathered the front of her dress and started for the door—“the most handsome man, mind you. I’m marrying him. But Rafe comes close.”
“Close, schmose!” Kyla reached for the door and pulled it open. “Rafe is the handsomest man ever born.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Oh I don’t know about that.”
Kyla turned at the simultaneous comments, then swatted at Olivia and Shelby, who’d just come into the room. Olivia held the brides’ bouquets; Shelby held a sparkling dog leash, which was attached to Kodi’s flower-adorned collar.
Shelby glanced down at the German shepherd at her side. “You’re sure she’ll be okay?”
“Absolutely.” Annie fluffed her dress out, then bent over to scratch her adoring dog behind the ears. “You’re gonna be the prettiest flower doggie ever.”
Kyla shook her head. “I still say Serendipity could have done the job.”
Disbelief shone from her sister’s eyes. “Hardly. Dogs can be trained. Cats?”
“Are cuter,” Kyla finished.
Olivia held out the bouquets. “Mira, hermanas, you have other things to focus on now, si?”
“Yeah, you two,” Shelby joined in, “no bridezillas allowed.”
Kyla crossed her arms. “I can see you two are going to be a dangerous combination.”
Olivia’s shrug was eloquent. “I thought so, until she said my brother wasn’t the handsomest man alive.”
Kyla laughed. “That’s just because she’s partial to my brother.”
“I’m warning you, Olivia”—Shelby actually managed to keep a straight face—“you have to stay on your toes with this crazy family.”
“Well, with Kylie, maybe”—Annie smiled her thanks for the bouquet to Shelby. “But I’m so sweet you’ll have no trouble from me.” With that, she directed a stuck-out tongue at her sister.
“Now that’s mature.” Kyla bit her lip to keep from erupting into laughter. She tossed a sniff at Annie. “You’re obviously ready to be an adult and get married.”
“Oh, phooey on you.”
“Yes, indeed. That’s what I like to hear …”
At the deep voice behind Olivia, she turned. Dan stood there, tall and handsome in his tux, his gaze full of tender amusement. “The harmonious tones of my two sisters.”
Moving as one, Annie and Kyla went to throw their arms around their brother in a tight hug.
Annie gave his arm a light punch. “Oh, you know we’re just kidding.”
He glanced past them to Olivia and his wife. “Prewedding jitters, I take it?”
“You know your sisters so well.” Shelby stepped to the side as Kyla and Annie joined Dan in the hallway.
Dan held out his elbows to Annie and Kyla. When they each took an arm, he pressed their hands against his sides and planted a kiss first on Kyla’s cheek, then on Annie’s. “I love you both.”
Kyla couldn’t speak. How she wished their parents were still alive, able to join them in this celebration of what God had done. But since they weren’t, she and Annie had agreed it was Dan who should walk the two of them down the aisle.
“Good thing you’re marrying good, godly men.” Dan’s usually solid voice was just a bit gruff, as though he, too, was fighting his emotions. “Otherwise I’d have to haul you both out to my squad car and take you home.”
Just then the wedding coordinator signaled to them from the sanctuary doorway. They watched Olivia, Shelby, and the bridesmaids line up.
“Oh! They look so pretty!”
“Soapity? For heaven’s sake, Aggie, they’re not even wet!”
“So pretty! Pretty! For the love of Puyallup, Doris, turn up your hearing aid!”
Kyla and
her siblings turned to see two elderly women just entering the church. Kyla couldn’t help a delighted cry. “Agatha! Doris! We’re so glad you could make it.”
Doris Kleffer turned to her best friend and constant companion, Agatha Hunter, with a huff. “I told you we’d be late. Why don’t you ever listen to me?”
Aggie made a face. “Why couldn’t I be the one with a hearing aid. Then I could turn you off entirely.”
“Ladies.”
They all turned at the low voice behind them. Jayce, Dan and Shelby’s adopted son, stood there, taller than ever. Kyla wouldn’t be surprised if he passed Dan’s height in the next year or two. Jayce made his way to the two bickering women and held an elbow out to each. “May I escort you to your seats? We’ve saved two right up front.”
Twittering their delight, Aggie and Doris did as Jayce bid, bowing their heads like royalty to the people in the pews as they made their way up the aisle.
Annie gave a soft laugh and leaned into Dan. “You’ve trained him well, Obi Wan Danobi.”
The strains of music sounded, and Annie unclipped Kodi’s leash, then directed her down the aisle. True to her training, the shepherd padded toward the doggie treat awaiting her at the front of the sanctuary.
As the bridesmaids started through the doorway into the sanctuary. Annie took a deep breath. “Show time.”
Kyla noted the slight tremor in her sister’s voice. “Nervous?”
She nodded. “Not about getting married. But walking in front of all those people …”
Kyla knew what she meant. She’d peeked into the sanctuary before she got dressed, and was astonished at how packed it was. “Forget the people,” Kyla said, her smile both firm and tender. “Do what I plan to do. Focus on the wonderful man waiting at the end of the aisle. He’s the only one who counts.”
Annie couldn’t restrain a grin, and Kyla knew exactly what was coming.
“Good ol’ Kylie. Ever the Sister-Mommy.” Annie touched Kyla’s arm. “Especially when I need it. Thanks.”