Inevitable: Carter Kids #5

by Chloe Walsh

  The moment I recognized Teagan as the bundle Noah was cradling, a scream tore from my throat, and this time he did notice me.

  "It's okay," he continued to soothe as he ploughed through the house with his wife in his arms. "I've got you, Thorn." Storming past me, he bit out, "Call Lucky."

  "Lucky?" I balked, shaking my head in sheer freaking horror, all while I battled down the very inappropriate swell of excitement in my chest at the sound of his name. Swatting down that unwelcome sensation, I asked, "Shouldn’t I be calling an ambulance? Or the cops?"

  "No cops!"

  "But, Noah, you're bleeding all over."

  "Just do what I motherfucking say, Hope," he roared, "and call Lucky."

  I moved to follow after them, but Noah warned me off with an almost animalistic growl. "Do not come up these stairs, Hope Carter," he snarled, "stay the fuck down here and call Lucky!" before climbing the staircase and disappearing out of sight.

  "Omigod, omigod," I muttered to myself because no one in this stupid house had any interest in listening to me. "Okay. It's okay, Hope. Just breathe…" Rushing over to the front door, I quickly slammed it shut and locked it before sliding across the many deadbolts. The trail of blood that Noah had left in his wake caused my stomach to churn inside of me and I shook my head and blew out a harsh breath before rushing back into the kitchen to retrieve my cell. With trembling hands, I quickly scrolled through my contacts list until I found the contact Hunter.

  Jesus, what the hell had happened tonight?

  I knew something was wrong.

  I freaking knew it!

  I pressed call and held my cell to my ear while I quickly dashed around and locked every door and window I feared an intruder could use. My heart was racing so hard, I was sure anyone within a three-mile radius could hear it. I didn’t dare delve into the reason why my body seemed to be thrumming with anticipation. There was nothing good about this situation.

  Nothing at all.

  When Hunter's phone rang out and went to voicemail, my fear spiraled to new heights and I quickly hung up before redialing. "Answer your phone, asshole," I muttered to myself as I frantically paced the room.

  "Hello to you, too," I heard Hunter reply, clearly amused.

  "Oh, thank god." I sagged in relief and quickly began to relay tonight's events to my uncle's best friend and former cellmate. "Hunter, I don’t know what's happening, but Noah just walked in here and he's covered in blood, like completely drenched! And he told me to call you." My voice was rising with every word I spoke. "And Teagan? I don’t even know if she's okay. He's got her wrapped up in a blanket…and he's taken her upstairs. Shit, Hunter, I tried to help, but they've gone upstairs and he told me not to follow them. God, I don’t know what to do…"

  "Hope, breathe," I heard him say, and weirdly enough, the tone in his voice soothed something deep inside me. "I'm on my way, sweetheart."

  I sagged, visibly sagged, against the kitchen island. "I don’t know what to do," I squeezed out.

  "I'm coming," he replied. "I'm in my car now. I'm twenty minutes away. Lock all the doors."

  "Okay." I nodded, trying to calm myself down. "And they're already locked." Hunter was coming. He wouldn’t be long. He would fix all of this. I just knew he would. "Should I call an ambulance? Or the police? Hunter, there's a lot of blood –"

  "No cops," Hunter was quick to interrupt, repeating the words my uncle had spoken to me just a few minutes earlier. He wasn’t as aggressive as Noah, but I could hear the warning tone in his voice just the same. "Just hang on in there, sweetheart. I'll be there soon."

  "Don’t hang up!" I practically shouted the words, my desperation evident in my tone. Pathetic as it was, hearing Hunter's voice on the other line made me feel safer. "Just…just stay on the line and talk to me."

  He paused for a long moment before saying, "I'm not going anywhere."

  "I'm scared," I blurted out, biting every nail on my free hand until I was left with nothing but stumps. "This has something to do with JD, hasn’t it?"

  Lucky didn’t reply and his silence only caused the anxiety inside of me to skyrocket.

  "Oh god." Of course it does. "What if he's coming here?" I prided myself on being a strong woman, but right now, I was a weeping, crumbling mess. JD Dennis was violent and unpredictable. There was no level of violence he wouldn’t stoop to in his search of revenge. "Maybe you shouldn’t come here, Hunter." I knew he was involved in the fire. I'd protected both him and Noah from the police by lying about their whereabouts that night. I'd told the detectives I had spent the evening watching movies with both men and when my uncle had gone to bed, I had taken his best friend into my bed. It was a lie, but it had fallen so easily from my mouth that morning that the police had believed me. And why wouldn’t they? I had a perfect record. I was the ideal citizen. I was in so much shit here.

  "No one is going to hurt you," I heard him say in such a confident, reassuring tone that I almost felt a little relief. I could hear horns honking and the sound of an engine revving in the background as I clung to the phone like it was going to somehow fix all of this. "Do something for me, Hope," he added, voice slightly muffled. "Go into the kitchen."

  "I'm already in the kitchen."

  "Okay," he coaxed. "Good. Now see the cupboard under the sink? Open it up."

  I did as he instructed without question. "I'm here."

  "Good girl," he said coaxingly. "At the very back, you'll see an opened box of laundry detergent. Can you see it, sweetheart? I think it's purple."

  "I see it," I told him as I used my free hand to retrieve the detergent box. It was heavier than it should have been, and when I looked inside and saw the black shiny barrel of a gun, my heart stopped in my chest. "That's a gun, Hunter," I spluttered.

  "Pick it up, Hope," he ordered. "It's fully loaded, no safety, so be careful."

  I reached inside and froze. "I've never held a gun before," I whispered. I was anti-guns. My mother was shot when I was a child. Noah was shot last year. Guns and my family did not go well together. "Where did you get this?" I asked, gaping at the black, metal life taker in my hand. "Why isn’t it stored in a secured gun safe?"

  "Do you really want to me to answer that?" was his response.

  Oh god.

  No.

  No, I really did not want him to answer.

  "What now?" I asked instead, choosing not to incriminate myself further into this man's world.

  "Wait for me," he replied. "I'm nearly there. And if any motherfucker tries to get inside that house before I get there, shoot 'em in the nuts."

  Half laughing, half sobbing from the sheer craziness of the situation, I walked back into the foyer and sank down on the step of the stairs. "Why the nuts?" I heard myself ask as I stared down at the gun in my hand. "Why not the head or the chest?"

  Lucky let out a low chuckle. "I was trying to spare you from taking a life, but have at it, sweetheart. You shoot 'em in any damn place you want."

  The sound of tires screeching outside filled my ears and I stiffened. "Is that you?"

  "Yeah, sweetheart, I'm here."

  Four words.

  Four magnificent fucking words.

  I tossed my phone on the step and leapt to my feet. With the gun still clasped tightly in my left hand, I ran to the door and quickly unbolted every lock and deadbolt before throwing it open just as a car door slammed loudly.

  From the porch light, a pair of muddy black boots entered my peripheral vison. My gaze followed those boots upwards to the dark, faded jeans and then the red plaid shirt, unbuttoned and revealing a white wife beater, finally landing on a stubbly jaw, slightly crooked nose from being broken more than once, and piercing blue eyes. His signatory man bun was on full display, holding his dirty blonde hair back from his almost inhumanly gorgeous face, as he walked with purpose towards me.

  My heart skyrocketed in my chest at the sight of him and an unwelcome gasp tore from my throat. I didn’t think twice about running out into the darkness, t
he relief of seeing him, driving me forward. He had barely made it to the bottom of the porch steps when I threw myself at him. "Thank god," I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck in a death grip.

  "Take it easy," Hunter replied in an oddly nervous tone. He didn’t return my hug, choosing to keep his hands held up instead, and I when I realized why, I quickly stepped back. I had unintentionally been pressing the nozzle of the gun against his back.

  "Oh god," I gasped, holding out the evil piece of metal for him to take. "I'm so sorry."

  "That's alright," he replied with a smirk as he took the gun from me. "At least it wasn’t my nuts."

  "That's not funny." Only Hunter could crack a joke in a situation as volatile and precariously dangerous as this.

  "Then why are you laughing?" he shot back with a wink as I watched him fiddle around with the gun expertly before sliding it into the back of his jeans. The move sent a shiver down my spine to think how often this man had so obviously handled a gun. It disturbed me even deeper to realize how much I liked it.

  "Nerves," I croaked out.

  "Come on," he said then, breaking me from my less than stellar thoughts. "Let's go inside and clean our best friends' latest mess up."

  When we were back inside the house with the front door locked, Hunter disappeared upstairs, but not before instructing me to boil some hot water. What the heck was I to these people; a tea maid? I did it anyway, much to my chagrin.

  When twenty minutes had passed by and neither Hunter or Noah had come back downstairs, I contemplated going upstairs and demanding to be told everything, but the sound of a car pulling up outside quickly rid me of all thoughts. I kind of reminded myself of Chunk from The Goonies in this moment as I panted like a panicked dog and ran around like a headless chicken, attempting to call out for Hunter and Noah, but I couldn’t get my words out loud enough for anyone to hear me.

  A loud knock vibrated on the front door, followed by the sound of the doorbell ringing and I crept towards the front door like I was walking across a mine field. "Please, don’t kill me," I whispered to myself as I peeked through the keyhole. "Dear God, don’t let me die tonight."

  Surprise, confusion, and a huge abundance of relief flooded my body when I looked through the keyhole and my locked eyes on Max Jones standing on the porch with a medical bag in his hand.

  I quickly set to work on unlocking every deadbolt and chain before swinging the door inwards. I'd never been a huge fan of Teagan's doctor uncle, but right now, and considering the amount of blood splattered on the floors in this house, I was damn glad to see him.

  "Where are they?" were Max's first words as he strode past me like a man on a mission.

  "Upstairs," I offered, closing the door behind him before locking it once more. I turned to show him the way but he was already halfway up the staircase. "Go on up," I muttered under my breath.

  Max had no sooner disappeared upstairs when Hunter rejoined me in the kitchen.

  "Is someone going to tell me what's going on?" I asked, trailing after Hunter as he walked into the adjoining mudroom and retrieved a mop and bucket.

  "You sure you're ready for it?" Hunter responded by asking as he walked over to the sink and filled the bucket with boiling water before adding bleach. When he was done, he turned around and placed the bucket on the floor and sank the mop inside. "There's a reason Noah told you to stay down here." He paused before adding, "You want full disclosure. I get it. But our world isn’t exactly…kosher." He squeezed out the mop head before walking back into the foyer.

  Swallowing deeply, I picked up the mop bucket and followed after him. "Whatever it is, I know I can handle it," I replied, and in that moment, I meant it.

  "There's no going back once you know," Hunter warned me as he mopped up every blood and mud stain splattered across the floor tiles. "Last chance to run."

  "I'm not running," I heard myself say. Walking over to where he was cleaning, I reached forward and placed my hand on the mop handle, stopping him in his tracks, and said, "Tell me."

  Hunter looked at me for the longest moment, his blue eyes piercing me, before releasing the mop and shrugging. "Alright, HC." Gesturing towards the staircase, he added, "Don’t say I didn’t warn you."

  The sounds of puffing and pained grunts came from just behind Noah and Teagan's bedroom door, causing me to stall. Bracing myself, I inhaled a deep calming breath and pushed the door inwards. The sight of my uncle's bare and clearly wounded stomach as he sat on the edge of their huge bed filled my vision and I balked. Max was using one hand to press what looked like a bloodstained towel against Noah's ribs while holding a suspicious looking metal contraption in the other. I guessed the towel had been white in its previous life, but I couldn’t tell tonight, not with the sheer amount of blood smeared on it. The image caused my stomach to churn violently. Another half dozen or so neatly strapped bandages were littered across Noah's upper body, all of which were tinged red, and I heaved at the sight.

  "Oh my god, Noah!" I managed to wheeze out, the sight of the bloodied towels and instruments splayed on top of their bed causing the bile in my stomach to rise up my throat.

  "What the hell is she doing in here?" Noah demanded, looking behind me to glare at Hunter.

  "She carried a watermelon," Hunter shot back mockingly. "Why do you think?"

  "Noah," I sobbed, gaping in absolute horror. I'd known he was wounded when he stormed into the house earlier tonight. I just hadn't really known how badly.

  "I'm good, Hope," Noah managed to squeeze out seconds before a pained grunt tore through his lips. He seemed to be breathing through his nose, concentrating on not moving as Max appeared to be stitching him up.

  "Are you guys sure I shouldn't call an ambulance for him?" Fear and concern rushed through my body. My gaze moved from his battered body to the blood smeared bedsheets. Staggering back from the blood, I pressed a trembling hand to my forehead and sagged. "Or for me?"

  "You would be afraid," Noah grunted with a small shake of his head. "My own niece afraid of blood. How the hell am I related to you?"

  "I'm not afraid of blood," I ground out, averting my gaze from the horror scene in front of me. "I'm afraid of you bleeding out and dropping dead in front of me."

  "Calm her down or take her out of the room," Max muttered in an irritated tone. "I’m trying to concentrate and she's a distraction."

  Just then warm hand landed on my shoulder, grounding me, and eliminating some of my trembling. I didn’t have to look behind me to see who it was. I already knew his touch. For two whole months before Jordan returned, Hunter and I had been virtually inseparable. I'd know that comforting touch anywhere. I turned and walked straight into his arms. Screw the way we had left things when he left The Hill. And screw the fact that our friendship had been fractured by almost sleeping together. I needed a damn hug and the man had great arms.

  "Hope?"

  Teagan's voice came from somewhere behind me and I swung around, desperate for the reassurance that she was, in fact, alive and in one piece.

  When my eyes landed on her willowy frame standing in the doorway of their ensuite bathroom, and her bruised and battered body, something that rarely happened to me occurred.

  I cried.

  "Teegs," I wept as I practically threw myself on the fragile blonde. Wrapping my arms around her frail body, I hugged her tighter than I knew was safe, but I couldn’t help myself. From the moment Noah had shuffled her upstairs until now, I hadn't been sure she was even breathing.

  "I'm okay," she whispered as she squeezed me back fiercely, comforting me. "I'm okay, Hope."

  How, I wanted to scream!

  How in God's name was she okay?

  How was any of this okay?

  "What's happening here, Teegs?" I asked, tone wobbly as I took in the sight of her bruised face. God, her face was so badly marked she didn’t even look like Teagan.

  Wordlessly, Teagan took my hand in hers and led me out of their room and across the hall to the family bathroo
m. And when she closed the bathroom door and finally opened her mouth, I knew the secrets she confided in me would haunt me until my dying day.

  JD Dennis had found her and Noah.

  After years of hunting and hiding, dodging and ducking, their long-lived feud had finally come to a boil. At the Ring of Fire, no less.

  Blood had been shed, lives had been taken, and I was now one of the few people privy to the information that not only had Noah killed tonight, but so had Teagan.

  When Teagan had explained everything that had happened to them tonight, my mind was blown. Seriously, how could so much drama and bad freaking luck follow her and Noah?

  I couldn’t wrap my mind around all of it.

  When she told me about how they had threatened to slit open her cesarean section scar, I felt faint. "I'm okay, Hope," she assured me for what had to be the fiftieth time since her revelation. She was sitting on the toilet lid. Meanwhile, I was kneeling beside her, clinging onto her hand like it was a lifeline. "I promise," she added, forcing a sad, teary-eyed smile. "Stop worrying."

  "Stop worrying?" I had been worrying about this girl since she bombarded her way into my life senior year of high school. Teagan was like the sister I never had, and coming from a family of five brothers, that was saying a lot. I loved her. I trusted her. The thought of anything else happening to her, having seen her go through all she had this past year was almost too much to bear. I'd been right there by her side, watching helplessly as she grieved the death of her baby at the hands of JD fucking Dennis.

  "Do you trust him?" I asked, inclining my head in the direction of the bathroom door to where her uncle was still treating Noah's wounds across the hall. Max had never been a fan of Noah. Having him here kind of worried me.

  Teagan nodded slowly. "I do. He doesn't know everything. He says he doesn’t need to…" She paused and swallowed deeply before adding, "That's probably for the best."

  "And Hunter?" I croaked out. "What does he know?"

  "Everything and more," she whispered, ducking her face, her blonde hair like a curtained halo framing her face. "Lucky is Noah's right-hand man. It's more than friendship between them, Hope. It's like they're brothers. You know, sometimes I think he knows more than I do."