by West, Naomi
And he was running this auction. If he’d be accused of trafficking before, there was no reason to think he wasn’t doing it again. Saxton was right. Carter was a bad man. He should be taken out. It would save many people.
She thought back to all the times she’d been afraid of him. The times he yelled and punched things and broke things. It was horrible living with him. That’s why she’d moved out when she found out she was pregnant. Why she’d dropped out of high school to work to pay for a place to raise her son. She didn’t know what would happen if a crying baby woke Carter up or disturbed him in some way.
Since she’d moved out and wasn’t around him all the time, she’d started to forget over the years how bad he’d been. She had less contact with him, and it was always under casual, low tension conditions that gave no cause for him to act out. She’d convinced herself that he’d changed. That even if he was still getting into trouble, he wasn’t as bad as he used to be.
But now here was this truth staring her in the face. Carter was still up to all the horrible things he had always been up to, maybe worse now that he had time to grown his empire. And he was a gang leader now, too? Could it be any worse?
She had defended him to Saxton because she felt like she had to. She felt like no one else would, and that was her duty as his sister. There had been good times. She had memories of him helping her tie her shoes, sticking up for her at school, and even coming to see Ian when he was first born. He’d given her money on occasion and offered more than once to get her involved in some business of his that would bring her significant money. But she was never willing to do anything illegal. Bu he wasn’t all bad. He had been there for her at times. And she needed to defend him now.
He was her brother, and she didn’t want to see him dead, even if he was bad, even if he did bad things. He didn’t need to die for it. He could go to jail. Spend years there and maybe change and get some sort of life back. Some life doing something good. If he was killed, there’d be no chance for redemption for him. Didn’t everyone deserve that chance?
Leaving Saxton had been necessary, but hard. She hated the idea of being alone again, knowing that Carter might have his gang after her. Could Mr. Creepy have been working for Carter? Could he be kidnapping her to get information on Saxton? Maybe Carter was searching for Saxton just as hard as Saxton was searching for him. Maybe Carter wanted information like Saxton did. Well, she hadn’t given it to Saxton, and she wouldn’t give it to Carter, either. She could play dumb.
But she hadn’t wanted to leave either, because she had been desperately hoping he would change his mind. She walked down the stairs slowly, hoping he would run after her. Tell her he loved her and he’d do anything for her. She wanted him to at least walk down to see them out. Something. Anything. But he’d watched her go without so much as a word to try to convince her to stay. And that hurt.
She couldn’t deny her feelings for him, and he hadn’t hid his for her. They had something. And she’d made big threats. She couldn’t go back on them. She couldn’t just turn around and tell him she was just kidding and didn’t mean it. She still needed to know he wasn’t going to go after Carter. Even if the reason was more that she didn’t want Saxton to get in trouble or injured than it was to protect her brother. Her brother could protect himself. And that’s what she was really worried about.
If Carter was the leader of this gang, the Cruel Crows, and everything Saxton claimed had been true, then if he tried to go after Carter, he’d likely only get himself killed. She couldn’t bare the thought of that. It was bad enough that this Liam and who knew how many others had fallen at Carter’s hand. She couldn’t stand the thought of Saxton being injured, too. Or worse.
And it would be her fault, in a way. If she hadn’t entered the auction and alerted Saxton to the knife thing, he wouldn’t have been asking around and he wouldn’t have gotten stabbed. If she hadn’t told him who the knife belonged to, he wouldn’t be planning to walk into certain death. He was going to get himself killed, and it was all her fault. She couldn’t live with that. Having someone’s blood on her hands was bad, but having the blood of the first man she’d felt anything for in over six years was so much worse. She wanted him to live, and she wanted to have some sort of life with him.
But she’d messed that up, too. Why in the world had she threatened him like that? Just to keep him safe? If he thought she’d turned him in, maybe he wouldn’t go after Carter and wouldn’t get killed in the process? She hadn’t thought before she’d said it. She was so desperate, it had just come out. And then it was too late to take it back. That statement alone might have sent him away for good. He might never speak to her again for saying that, for making such a vile threat.
Sara stared ahead, into the dark night through blurry vision. Now what? Go home and carry on tomorrow like nothing had happened? Explain to Ian, what? That she and Saxton had gotten into a fight and they would never see him again? Was that even true? Or could he somehow forgive her for what she’d done? He had no reason to. She’d turned against him fully and sided with her murderer brother over him. And she’d done it knowing he was right and she was wrong. She had betrayed him in the worst sort of way. If she were him, she wouldn’t forgive her.
She wiped her eyes again and took several deep breaths before starting the car. She drove home slowly, her vision still blurred, making it hard to see in the dark night. They made it to their apartment’s parking lot. She checked her phone, a glimmer of hope flaring bright, then dying when she saw no missed calls, no texts from Saxton.
She got out of the car, feeling so heavy with regret and despair that she couldn’t hold her head up. She opened the car door and picked Ian up, then slung their overnight bag over her shoulder. She closed the car door and locked it, each step of the process feeling like she was moving through Jell-O.
Her eyes burned, her jaw ached, her throat was scratchy. She needed her bed. Maybe after a good night’s sleep, this would all be better. Maybe in the light of day, it wouldn’t seem as bad. Maybe somehow, everything would be okay.
She allowed herself to dream as she climbed the stairs laboriously. One foot, shift up, the other foot. Maybe she would wake up to Saxton at her door, bringing her fresh coffee and flowers, saying he was sorry, that he wouldn’t go after Carter. And then he’d come in and they’d have breakfast and he’d tell her it was all going to be okay anyway because Carter had been arrested for some nonviolent crime that would keep him locked up for life. They were safe, Liam was avenged somewhat, Saxton wouldn’t get killed or go to prison for murder. Carter would be off the streets and out of commission. It would all work out for the best.
She let out a heavy sigh as she fumbled for her keys. There was no way any of that would happen. Maybe Saxton would show up. Maybe. But of all of her little daydream fantasy, that part was both the thing that seemed the least likely to happen, and was the thing she wanted the most.
Sara shifted Ian so her hand was free to unlock the door. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. She felt over the wall for the light switch. Her fingers didn’t touch it, but the light flipped on.
The sudden shock of seeing someone in her kitchen sent her heart into a furious panicked rhythm. She didn’t recognize him, but she recognized the eagle crest.
As the man raised his hand and brought it down hard on her head, the crest on the hilt of his knife was the last thing she saw before her vision went black. She felt herself hit the floor, had time to worry about Ian crashing down beside her, then she had no more thoughts.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was late, but Saxton was so full of rage and so wired up, he’d never be able to sleep. And now that he knew who Liam’s killer was, he had to act. How could he lie down and sleep, knowing this guy who had killed his friend—his brother—in cold blood was out there walking around, maybe murdering more people. Carter had to be stopped.
Sara was crazy. That was all there was to it. She believed that her brother was good. Okay, sure. He cou
ld see that. You always wanted to believe the best about your blood. He refused to hear anything bad about Nolan, even if he knew all the crap he was up to. And after Nolan’s death, you would have thought he lived the life of a saint the way he was talked about. But Nolan had been far from good. And Saxton knew it, but he’d deny it all day. Just like Sara was doing.
The real question was, did she believe it? Did she really think Carter wouldn’t commit murder, or did she know she was fooling herself? It could go either way. Did it even matter now? Would he ever be able to look her in the eyes again and not want to tear her apart? Unless it was an empty threat out of fear. Unless she knew Carter was bad, but felt it was her duty as his sister to protect him. Did her threat really matter?
He stopped his pacing to think for a moment. He was tempted to dismiss it. But that would be a fool’s move. He might be able to convince her not to go to the police. Or she might actually follow through on her promise. So, what were his options? Take her out, too? He couldn’t bring himself to do that. No way. Threaten her back? It would be low, but he could threaten Ian. He could even kidnap him for a time if he had to. That might be okay. Ian was a cool kid and he knew Saxton, so he probably wouldn’t even put up a fight. He’d simply show up at school early, and tell Ian his mom had sent him. Easy.
But that move was as low as her threat had been. It was a card to keep in his back pocket, though. He hoped he wouldn’t need it. It all came down to timing. How quickly could he find Carter? Would she notify him in some way to tell him Saxton was coming? If Saxton found him and took him out, how fast could he get to Sara to stop her or threaten her into silence? If she was even really going to do it. Were her feelings for him strong enough to keep her from doing it? Maybe she thought it would stop him, and that was the only reason she said it. She couldn’t have actually meant it.
When he recalled the terror and anger in her eyes, though, he thought she might mean it. If he was careful in how he did it, though, it might not matter. Telling her he was going to kill Carter would make a suspect for sure, but if the police found nothing, there was nothing they could do about it. He’d need a good alibi and to make sure that he left no evidence behind. That, he could handle.
So, that had to be it then. Think it through enough to make no mistakes. Find Carter, kill him, then go to Sara and find a way to convince her not to go to the police, no matter what it took to get her to agree.
He gathered the things he would need. Fresh clothing that he hadn’t sweated in all day. A freshly cleaned knife, freshly wiped gun, and gloves that would stop fingerprints. In all his preparation, he probably didn’t have to worry so much. What he’d told her was true. Cops didn’t have time to pay attention to gang murders. They’d probably be glad Carter was gone. They might even help Saxton get away with it because he would have eliminated a worse criminal, and Carter’s death would save them from trying to gather evidence to take him in. And would save taxpayers from prosecuting and jailing him.
When he had his things, he made a call to a member of his MC. “Hey man, can you stop by in an hour? I’m working on my bike and need to borrow a wrench. My light will be on upstairs, so just leave it on the porch, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
This was code. They all knew if an alibi was needed, all they had to do was “borrow a wrench.” Crasher would come over, see his light on, and would tell the cops that Saxton had been home at the time when he would be out finding and killing Carter. He’d drive his bike down the back alley with his lights off, where no one would see him leave. They’d done things like this before and it made enough of a hassle for the police that they didn’t want to bother trying to disprove the alibi.
Saxton made sure his light was on, then pulled on a dark hat, and headed out to his garage. He didn’t start his bike, but instead pushed it down the alley until it was far away from his house and the ears of any neighbors who might be awake. Then, he started it and drove with the lights off until he made a few turns.
As he turned onto a main street and flipped on his lights, he realized that the car who had been behind him turned with him. He made a sudden turn left. So did the car. Two more turns confirmed what he suspected. He was being followed. Maybe the same guys who tried to take Sara.
Sara. His heart almost stopped.
If he was being followed, what if she had been followed when she left his place? It’d been over an hour now since she left. Anything could have happened. Someone might be watching her right now.
He turned abruptly to head in the direction of her apartment. Before he did anything, he had to make sure they were safe. Had to get them somewhere. Back to his place, or anywhere else. Didn’t matter where, so long as they weren’t sitting home alone like waiting targets. Maybe he’d even take her to the Jagged Souls headquarters. His guys would more than look out for her. They’d be very safe there.
He was still being followed. That couldn’t happen. He turned back around, like he was heading away from Sara’s. Wouldn’t want to alert them where he was going. That might guarantee that someone would be sent to her place. And they might beat him there.
He made several fast turns, shooting down alleys and little spots he knew well. The guy following him was good. Through all of it, he kept up with Saxton. But there was one factor that couldn’t be overcome, no matter how good his tail was. The guy was in a car and Saxton was on a bike.
He rode until he got to just the place he was looking for. A little park in a small neighborhood where nothing much happened. But there were some little trails. And no place for a car. Plus, it also had several outlets that couldn’t be seen from the main road. It was all thick trees and brick walls, designed to keep the outside world out.
Saxton tore into the park and saw the headlights behind stop when he got to the brick wall that was only big enough for pedestrians and bikes. Saxton made a turn left, then shut off his bike. He pushed it fast down another street. This one had an underpass. And the underpass had an adjoining alley that was also a bit too narrow for cars. And it was hard to see from the road because of the bridge above it and the buildings surrounding it.
Saxton pushed his bike, with his lights off, and when he got to the alley, hopped on and sped off. After several minutes, his tail hadn’t returned. He circled around the city the long way to come back in the direction of Sara’s. It had taken far longer than he liked and as he sped down her road, he wished he’d been able to just call or text her. But phones could be tracked. And part of keeping the alibi was leaving his phone in the same location that he’d made the call from.
He pulled into her parking lot and stashed his bike behind the dumpster, out of sight. One more glance around to make sure so one was there, no one was sitting in a vehicle, and he bolted inside. The stairs passed under his feet two at a time and his heart was already speeding by the time he reached her floor.
Her door was closed and it looked like they were sleeping. No light under the door. He took a few breaths to calm himself. No signs of forced entry meant they were probably fine. His next challenge would be convincing her to let him in, to hear him out, to go anywhere with him. He’d been so focused on getting there and making sure she was safe that he hadn’t thought at all about how he’d convince her of anything.
He didn’t want to wake up Ian if he was sleeping. First, Saxton tried calling for Sara through the door. He puts his lips close and said her name a few times. No response. He tapped his knuckles on the door softly. Still nothing. He knocked harder and waited. He didn’t hear any sign of anyone moving. Not even coming to check and see who was at the door.
He knocked harder. This time, he was afraid he’d wake up the neighbors. That wouldn’t be good, either. He put his hand on the knob. He could just break in. He tried the knob and it turned in his hand.
Instead of relief at being able to get in easily, he was immediately flooded with panic. Sara would never, ever leave the door unlocked. She was much more careful than that. He flipped on a light switch and sta
red down at the blood on the floor.
In seconds, he was tearing through the place, not stopping to think that if a crime had been committed here, the last thing he should do is get his hair and fibers all over from his frantic searching.
He’d gone through every place she or Ian could be in this tiny apartment. And God it was tiny. How did they both live here? She wasn’t there. And neither was Ian.
He went back to the door and looked closer at the blood. Beside the door, a lamp was knocked over. It looked like there was a smear in the blood, like a foot pushing against the floor to get up or get away.
As he stared at it, two things were certain. He’d been too late. They already had her and Ian.