Besotted: An Enemies-to-Lovers Small-town Romance (Carmel Cove Book 3)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  But there was no sign of Eve.

  “We found Trent,” I heard my brother whisper and figured he’d called Ace.

  My eyes narrowed on Trent as he paused and ran a hand through his gelled hair before planting it on his hip. He was being yelled at.

  “I know.” He nodded again. “I understand, sir. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.” This fucker looked afraid, because Ace was right. He was just a pawn. And Eve had just linked him and potentially whoever he worked for to multiple disappearances. “This won’t be a problem, sir.”

  “You see her?” Mick murmured in my ear.

  I shook my head.

  “I promise, I’ll take care of the girl.” And then I caught it. Barely a flicker. Unnoticeable unless your gaze was trained on his face like mine was—like a sniper waiting for the perfect shot. For a split second, I saw Trent’s gaze glance up to the second floor on this side of the house as he mentioned ‘taking care of’ Eve.

  I heard Mick’s muffled curse as I stepped back from the corner of the building and looked up the monstrous stone facade that led up to the second floor where a glass deck protruded out from what I would guess was a bedroom.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Where’s Ace?” I volleyed with.

  “On his way. He said to wait for him to get here, or the cavalry. Anyone really,” Mick warned. “He’ll be here in another minute. Trent’s still on the phone. We just need to watch him, Miles.”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t waiting.

  I didn’t know what his plans for Eve were—I didn’t know who he meant when he said they were coming to get her tonight. But I did know that motherfucker had a personal hatred for me—for what I’d done to him—that he’d take out against Eve. If he hadn’t already.

  Spurred by the thought, I reached out and touched the stone, assessing the depth and texture of the rock. Thank fuck rich assholes always insisted on using real stone to decorate their houses, otherwise this would’ve been a lot harder.

  “Miles!” My brother’s grunt carried along the breeze as I gripped the stone. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

  I didn’t know if there was anyone else in the house besides Trent, but I’d guess if there was any security, they’d all be on the ground floor to detain anyone who tried to come inside. And I’d guess they wouldn’t leave someone in the room with her.

  “I’m going to get my girl,” I growled underneath my breath.

  “You can’t fuckin’ climb the goddamn house.”

  My head whipped to him, and I stepped right in his face. Even though he was larger than me, we were the same height. I met mirrored eyes, although they contained very different emotions than I was sure my gaze did.

  “For my woman, I can do anything.” And then I reached for the stone siding and began to climb.

  His growl faded into the wind but he didn’t try to stop me. Glancing down, I saw his mouth tighten before he turned and took my previous post at the corner of the house, keeping an eye on Trent as I scaled the building.

  My arms and fingers burned at about halfway. This wasn’t like anything I’d climbed before. The grips were incredibly narrow and the pitch was straight vertical. My feet could barely catch on the edges of the slim decorative ledges of the stone in order to push myself higher. A few times, I even slipped, biting back a curse as I only had my arms and shoulders to hoist me higher while my feet fumbled for another stable stop.

  With the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I wasn’t afraid of falling and breaking my neck; I was afraid of not making it to the top in time.

  I didn’t think I’d ever scaled a face in such a short amount of time but still, fast didn’t feel fast enough as I was finally level with the second-floor deck. My knuckles white with the strength of my grip, my foot slid out to rest on the metal side of the floor of the deck, the railing made of thin metal slats along the sides but glass across the front. I wanted to move quickly, but with the glass facing out over the lower deck where Trent still was, I didn’t want to draw his attention.

  Carefully and quietly, I slid out along the outside of the railing before climbing over it.

  Sinking back along the side wall, I saw immediately that the curtains were drawn across all the windows, and I knew Eve had to be inside. Locating the deck door that was in the center of the space, I slipped slowly toward it, my ears picking up only Trent still on the phone even though I tried to hear any sound coming from inside.

  As I moved, I examined the glass and realized I wouldn’t hear anything from inside; the glass was far too thick. I couldn’t say for certain it was bulletproof, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

  Reaching the door, I tested the handle and realized it was locked.

  Fuck.

  Digging into my back pocket, I pulled out my utility knife. The way the lock had been installed on this door was backward. It wasn’t put on to keep outsiders from coming in, it was installed to prevent whoever was inside the room from getting out.

  I quickly loosened the screws on the faceplate and pulled it off to reveal the interior of the lock. Just as I turned the bolt to unlock the door I heard my brother whistle from down below.

  Trent was off the phone.

  I didn’t know who or what was waiting for me inside, so I stood to the side and slowly slid the door open just an inch at first, listening for any movement inside.

  And that was when I heard it. The small, muffled whimper.

  Eve.

  Flipping open the larger knife on my utility blade, I slid the door open farther and threw back the curtain, prepared for an attack.

  What remained of my heart dropped into my stomach, cracking and breaking into a thousand pieces when I saw her.

  Tied to one of the bedposts, her beautiful face was scarred with tears and that mouth I’d called a liar was blocked over with duct tape. Rage that burned hotter than the sun burst inside when I saw how her shirt was ripped down the front, her chest heaving with her unsteady and frightened breaths. My eyes lingered on her stomach. Still flat and unassuming, but filled with my child. My future.

  As I dragged my gaze back to her face, I realized it was her eyes that killed me. Wide and frightened. She looked at me like she didn’t recognize me—and she probably couldn’t without her glasses. But what killed me was it was the same look she’d given me when I’d accused her of lying to me about being on birth control and of trying to trap me into forever.

  Shaking my head, I’d have to deal with hating myself later. Right now, I just had to get her out of here. I had to make sure she was safe.

  I stepped toward her and she flinched, pushing back against the bed.

  “Evie,” I rasped with a low voice. “It’s me, baby. I’m here. I’m goin’ to get you out of here.”

  Eve

  “It’s me, baby. I’m here. I’m goin’ to get you out of here.”

  I sagged against the pole at my back, relief drenching me like a bucket of cold water on a torturous hot day. My shoulders sunk as the weight lifted.

  They’d found me

  He’d found me.

  Miles was here. For me. For our baby.

  His figure, that was only further obscured by my happy tears, came closer, like a shield closing in around me. I was safe.

  “I’m here, Evie,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, and I wanted to weep at the way he said my name.

  Coming more into focus, he crouched in front of me and cupped my face. I turned my head against his hand as his thumbs began to wipe away the streaks of sorrow.

  That seemed to stretch and bend into something longer than a second, like we both needed to make sure the other was real.

  Ever so gently, he peeled the strip of duct tape from my mouth and as soon as my lips were free, he covered them with his own.

  And just like so many of my other firsts, he claimed this one, too.

  He made sure my first breath was him. He made sure my first sigh, my first whimper of re
lief, my first word after the fear of my life being silenced forever, was his name.

  “Miles…” It drifted off my lips as though it was the natural sound of my exhale.

  “I’m here, baby,” he promised with a hoarse and heavy voice as his mouth skated over mine. He smelled like wood and musk and Miles, and his lips tasted of warmth and safety.

  All that mattered was he was here, and that me and our baby were going to be okay.

  The fight didn’t matter. The words didn’t matter. The house didn’t matter.

  They could matter later when the larger notions of life and death, love and loss, weren’t on the table.

  They could matter later, but they would never change how I felt about this man.

  Too long I’d known that I’d fallen in love with him. With all the rough and raw edges he’d thought would be enough to keep me away. Too long I’d convinced myself I’d be fine without him.

  The truth was… there was no getting over Miles Madison.

  He planted a series of short kisses on my lips. Each time I leaned closer for more even though it was the wrong time and the wrong place and the wrong words between us, I still needed to anchor my lips to his and convince my heart he was really here.

  “I’m right here, and I’m goin’ to take you home. You’re safe now,” he swore thickly and as his lips pulled back from mine, the sob that had been bottled up inside them broke free.

  My shoulders shook with the welling urge to cry.

  “It’s alright, Evie. I’m here. Just stay strong for me, okay? Just for a few more minutes until we’re out of here.” I felt his hands trail behind my arms to see what was holding me.

  Pieces of our reality closed in. “D-Did you climb up here?” I murmured as I felt him work the cool blade of a knife underneath the zip ties.

  “I came in from the deck.” I heard a snap before the pressure around my wrists released and blood rushed back into my fingers.

  “Right.” I turned to him. “B-But did you climb the side of the house to get onto the deck?”

  “Well, I tried calling for Rapunzel, but she didn’t answer,” he replied with gruff seriousness, causing the corners of my lips to tip up in a smile. A strange sensation at this moment—in these circumstances—but with him here, I knew everything was going to be okay.

  “Where are your glasses?”

  I pointed in the direction of where I’d heard them crash into the wall. Miles strode over and bent down, muttering a soft curse.

  He returned and I saw clarity approach my vision as he slid the frames back onto my face. They sat a little lopsided on my ears and the left lens was fractured through like a cobweb but at least I could see him.

  My eyes adjusted, and I stared at him. One eye seeing him. The other eye seeing him like my heart did—his face repeated in every single fractured piece that was left of it.

  He was everywhere because he was my everything.

  “You climbed the house to save me?” I murmured, my hands planting on the warm familiar planes of his chest.

  “Are you really worryin’ about how I got up here to save you right now, Eve?” he growled at me in disbelief, cupping my face. “I’d climb through every circle of hell to save you, alright? Now, let’s get out of here.”

  It seemed my heart could no longer beat steadily, rather the awkward stumbling fast and then slow, loud and then soft, seemed to have become its new norm.

  “Well, I was just wondering because if you did that, then that means he,” my voice cracked, “i-is still out there and—”

  I broke off when a gunshot and shouting turned both of our attention to the door.

  “Come on,” he instructed, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet as the commotion downstairs escalated. “This way.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “I don’t know. I’m hopin’ Ace and his team from Covington, but we aren’t staying to find out. I’m gettin’ you out of here. Those guys can handle themselves.”

  I tore my eyes away from the door only when I heard a giant ripping sound. Gasping, I watched as Miles tore the thick cotton curtains down from the rod.

  “Hold this.” He shoved one end of the curtain into my arms before tying the other to the second curtain. Handing me the knotted end, he repeated the task with the remaining two curtains, stacking the whole pile in my arms.

  With an efficiency that took only seconds, he unscrewed one end of the curtain rod and pulled it free from the hooks that anchored it to the wall.

  The shouting outside grew louder, followed by two more gunshots.

  “W-What are we going to do?” I clutched the fabric tight to me, afraid that at any moment Trent was going to come through that door and hurt Miles. Hurt him and take me.

  Miles’ warm grip around my arm brought me back through the fog of fear, and I found nothing but comfort when I looked into his eyes as he pulled me toward the deck door, curtain rod in hand. “Outside. Now.”

  He looked over the railing and whistled. Hazarding my own glance, I saw Mick standing below.

  “What’s going on inside?”

  “No idea, sweetheart, but we’re not stickin’ around to find out,” he replied as I watched him use the curtain to tie one of his fancy climber’s knots around the center of the curtain rod.

  “W-What are we doing?” I stammered, my mouth not catching up with my brain that had a pretty good idea what was about to happen.

  “You remember what I taught you about rappelling?” he asked as he looked up at me.

  I nodded and swallowed thickly.

  “Good.”

  Shoving the rod against the slats of the deck, I realized he was anchoring it there to brace and distribute the weight soon to be suspended from the makeshift rope across several of the railings. Shoving the curtains between two of the posts, the rest toppled down along the side of the house. Mick caught the end to prevent it from hitting against the building and drawing any attention.

  “Over,” he demanded, leading me to the railing.

  My gaze slid, heavy with worry, to his. “What about you?”

  “I’ll come as soon as your down. It won’t hold both of us.” He held my wrists as my fingers gripped the railing and I swung my leg over the side.

  My head was still fuzzy from when Trent had hit me and the pounding was getting worse from only being able to really see out of one eye. But adrenaline does wonders… adrenaline and Miles.

  “You can do this, baby,” he encouraged softly, clasping my face and planting a kiss on my forehead. “Just a few feet and then Mick will have you, alright?”

  I nodded and tried to swallow.

  Crouching down, my hands worked their way down the railing until I lowered one foot hesitantly over the edge of the deck and onto the stone facade of the house. Ensuring I had a good stop, I let go of one of the metal rods and grabbed the rope, hearing the clank of the curtain rod against the railing.

  “Keep going, Evie, you’re doing great.” His encouragement fueled every movement.

  Next went my other leg and, with a deep breath, I let go of the railing completely, relying on the rope for my support.

  “Perfect, sweetheart. Perfect.”

  If we survived this, I needed to kiss him again. And then maybe kill him. But definitely kiss him first.

  Slowly but surely, my feet walked down the side of the house and my hands hardly felt the burn of the curtains as the fabric rubbed against my grip.

  “You’re almost there. Just a lit—” My head jerked up when Miles broke off with a grunt.

  “Miles?” I yelled, not caring who could hear as fear iced through my veins.

  I was maybe fifteen feet from the ground, but I couldn’t move any farther. I could only hang on and listen to the grunts and groans of a fight happening on the deck above me.

  There was a flash of black, and I knew it had to be Trent.

  “Miles!” I yelled again on a choked sob with nothing but the sounds of struggle as a response.

  No
.

  No, no, no.

  This couldn’t be happening. He’d gotten here. He’d saved me. He’d climbed the fucking house to save me like they do in the fairy tales. But the prince doesn’t die in those stories. He’s not supposed to die.

  I squinted but with my broken glasses and throbbing headache, I couldn’t see. I couldn’t see him. I could only hear two men fighting. The sickening smacks of flesh on flesh felt like they were being punched into my stomach… into my chest.

  “No, no…” I shook my head and cried.

  He had to be okay. He just had to.

  A gunshot rang out and an unearthly wail escaped from my mouth at the sound, my whole body reeling from the shock even though I hadn’t been struck.

  My arms shook with the strength it took to hang there. My hands burned from the fabric slowly slipping through their grip. But, instead of descending, I began to climb. I couldn’t leave him.

  I had to get to him.

  I had to save him.

  I was blind to everything and anything but that.

  Sobbing, I began to pull myself higher, my shoes frantically trying to grip on to the stone. But I was too distracted and distraught to know what was stable and what wasn’t. My left foot slipped and sent me crashing into the side of the house. It didn’t hurt—I was already so close to the side I couldn’t have moved maybe six inches.

  But it put more weight and strain on my arms than they could bear, especially with such a sudden jolt. And in a split second, I lost my life-saving grip on the rope and went tumbling backward.

  I reached for the rope… the wall… anything… but my hands came up empty. Closing my eyes, preparing for impact, and the last thing I saw was the fractured face of a man at the edge of the railing.

  But the ground never came.

  With an oomph and a gigantic grunt, I landed in Mick’s arms instead. My weight and the force of the fall hardly made him flinch as his hold steadied me against his frame

  I blinked and focused on his face. “You alright, Eve?” he drawled, his voice worried. “Scared the daylight out of me. Christ,” he started to swear and then, realizing he was holding me, thought the better of it. “Miles would’ve killed me if I let you…” He trailed off as he remembered, like I did, what precipitated the fall in the first place.