by Vi Carter
My heart slams into my chest. “Can I hear it?”
I want to hear it. I want to hear how she sees me. “It’s not finished yet.” She sounds unsure and I want to see her face but I’m not ready to face her yet. My body is still reeling from what we had just done. It wasn’t fucking. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I push it away and drag her closer to me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SCARLETT
It’s weird as I move around his kitchen. I asked him to wait on the couch and watch some TV, but he’s sitting at the kitchen table watching me cook.
“Remember your promise.”
I glance over my shoulder at him, while holding the wooden spoon over the pot, so none of the tomato soup drips onto the stove.
“What promise?” I’m trying to think of what promise I made to him.
“That you wouldn’t try to kill me.” His lip tugs up slightly but his eyes tell me he's very serious.
I stir the pot. “You think I’m going to poison you?” I question before taking a taste. I cough. It needs more salt. “You could be right.” My heart jumps as his strong hands clutch my waist.
“I like you in my kitchen.”
I bite my lip. I like being in his kitchen and that scares me. How long would this last until he didn’t like me in his kitchen? Over the past few days, I hadn’t thought about escaping.
“What are you thinking?” He leans in, his beard scratching my cheek.
“I’m thinking it needs more salt.” As I manage to move past him, his hands slide from my waist and I feel the loss immediately.
Dean returns to the table and sits back down. I finish up the soup and each time I glance at him, he’s watching me. I hate how nervous I feel as I walk with the soup to the table.
“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it,” I say, placing the bowl and spoon in front of him. He digs in straight away and when he glances up at me, his smile is warm.
“I like it.”
I duck my head, hoping to hide my stupid smile, as I scoop up a spoonful of soup. It is nice.
“Who taught you how to make it?” Dean asks. His bowl is nearly empty.
“My auntie. She worked night shifts in the hospital, so it was a healthy meal that didn’t require too much work.”
I take another spoonful, and I’m there. Back at the wooden table, glancing up at the plasma on the wall. I hated the island behind me. It always held some alcohol that he had started to drink or finished. I never touched it, but I knew it was there. My soup warms my stomach and when I flicker a glance at Dean, he’s watching me again.
“What?” I ask as my stomach squirms.
“You're different.”
I laugh, it’s not a belly laugh, it’s abrupt and I’m just grateful that I have no soup in my mouth or it would be spewed everywhere.
“What exactly are you comparing me to? All the other females you have kidnapped?” The words are out of my mouth and I want to stuff them back in. His fist tightens around the spoon.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever taken.”
Lucky me. I have nothing good to say to that, so I eat more of my soup.
“Why can’t you just take a compliment?” His words sound angry.
I glance back up at Dean and I see hurt on his face. Like I hurt him for telling him the truth about the situation. I don’t want to imagine what it would feel like to have someone like Dean really favor me over other women. I would be flattered, but this isn’t a normal situation.
“Because it’s not a compliment.” I stand, my stomach growing sour with what he is confronting me with. “This isn’t normal.” I tell myself out loud as I place the bowl and spoon in the sink. “This isn’t right.” I tell the sink.
“This isn’t my home. You didn’t pick me.” I’m ranting but I’m choking.
My heart leaps as his hands touch my waist. I hadn’t heard him move.
“Let’s go for a drive.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I don’t want to go outside today, Dean.”
“What do you want?”
He asks the question like he might give me what I want. My freedom, I want to tell him, but, I’m not stupid—that won’t happen.
“I want to be alone.” My heart beats faster and his hands slide from my waist. I turn to find the room empty. Guilt churns in my stomach for sending him away.
After a while, I decide that I don’t want to be alone. I hate my thoughts. I hate how I want to see him. I find Dean in the gym and I stay at the threshold as he does pull-ups on a bar. He has no top on and I watch all those muscles coil and tighten with each lift.
He pauses in the middle of one of his pull-ups before he continues. It’s the only tell that he knows I’m here.
“How many can you do?”
He drops down and turns to me. My core tightens as sweat makes a path down his chest. I try to keep his gaze, but fail.
“One hundred.” He picks up a towel and wipes away some of the sweat. “Do you want me to prove it?” He asks.
I can’t stop the smile. “No. I believe you.” His body told me that he worked out a lot.
He sits down on a weight bench and picks up a weight. “You can join me if you want.”
I’d preferred watching him, but I step into the room.
“Don’t try to kill me.” He sounds so serious.
“Didn’t I already tell you I wouldn’t? You can't keep bringing it up.”
I love the sound of his laughter. “I can keep bringing it up. It’s not every day the woman you live with keeps trying to kill you.”
Live with? He makes it sound like it is my choice. I push that thought to the back of my mind as I reach up and grip the bar. I try to pull myself up, my arms wobble and I touch the ground again. Dean puts down his weights and sits up. His dark eyes drink me in and I grip the bar and try harder. I shiver and shake but manage to get my chin above the bar.
“Do it again.” he demands.
I glance at him and grip the bar and try to pull myself up again. I manage to do it, but it takes everything in me. Dean gets up and moves behind me. He lifts me up easily as I grip the bar. “One, Two, Three…” I grin at him over my shoulder, our faces close. “I think that’s cheating.”
He grins back. “Who said?”
I laugh and when he lowers me to the ground, his hands remain on me, and I like it. I like the feel of his hands on me. I like the smell of him, I like the smell of his home. I’m starting to feel something that resembles happiness here. I close my eyes and try to picture if this were my choice, how that might feel. I could be happy. I think of crossing that line and allowing myself to be happy right now. Turning in his arms, my stomach squirms as his dark eyes roam my face.
I want to tell him I could be happy with him, but I have no idea how he actually feels about me. He hadn’t picked me, he had taken me.
His fingers run up alongside my face and stop at my temples. I can see he wants to ask me something, but he hesitates. I don’t blame him.
“You're different, too.” My heart jumps into my throat after the words leave my mouth.
“Is that a good different or a bad different?”
His fingers move in circles.
I shrug. “Just different.”
He nods like he gets it, his fingers work their way down to my neck.
“In a good way,” I add.
His fingers stop, his gaze skips to mine. I can’t decipher what’s going through his head. Is he thinking I’m foolish? I’m showing him that I’m starting to care. That isn’t wise. I need to remember why I am here and how I got here.
His lips crash on mine and it weakens me. I’m clinging to his sweat soaked chest. My hands rise up and circle the back of his neck. He breaks the kiss, his eyes skip across my face. I have no idea what passes in his gaze, I can't decipher the emotion.
I release him as an alarm I have never heard before rings out.
“What’s that?”
Fear. That’s wh
at I read on Dean’s face. He grabs his top and pulls it on as he rushes from the room and I’m on his heels as he enters the gun room. He removes a gun from the wall and punches the code into the safe, where he takes out a box of bullets.
“What is that?” I ask again.
He loads the gun without looking at me. “Someone is in the house.
Fear skitters up my back. “Like, here?” I’m pointing at the floor, but keeping my voice down.
He points at the ceiling. “Up there.” He sticks the loaded gun into the band of his trousers. I follow him out the door. He locks the gun room behind us.
“Has this happened before?” I ask as I follow him into the kitchen. The screech of the alarm still blares and I want it to stop. It’s causing my heart to race too fast.
“No.” Dean looks around the space before going into the kitchen. He opens the cabinet under the sink and reaches inside it while looking at me. He pulls out a hunting knife, and everything stills in me as he stands up.
I don’t want him to leave. “Just stay here, and whoever is up there will leave.” I plead with him taking a step forward.
“No.” He walks around me and I block his path again.
“Please, Dean.”
“What are you afraid of? That I’ll die up there and you're locked down here? Remember the code?”
I nod. But that’s not why I don’t want him to go up there.
“Tell me the code!” He barks.
“7610 but …”
He steps closer to me. “If I don’t return, wait until tomorrow before you leave, in case they are still up there.”
I hear his words but they aren’t registering. I’m not thinking of me getting stuck down here, I'm thinking of someone hurting him up there. I never get to tell him, because he places a kiss on my forehead and leaves. The moment the door closes, the alarm stops. My ears buzz in the silence and I wait for him to return.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
DEAN
“How did you find me?” I keep the gun in my hand as Gage turns to me. He’s in the hallway. My gaze skips to his empty hands.
“It wasn’t hard.” He has a few days growth of stubble.
“Are you trying to grow a beard?” I grin at him and also try to listen for anyone else. “Are you alone?” I fire quickly.
“I’m alone. I found a burnt out car, and have been searching this area. I’ve been here a few times, but it looked derelict.” He glances around the hallway at the peeling paint and fading wallpaper.
“What do you want?” It was stupid of me to have left the vehicle so close to where I live, but it wasn’t registered in my name. I didn’t think anyone would piece it together. Of course Gage did.
“Where’s Kate?” He glances into the sitting room behind me.
“That’s what you came for?” I push the gun into the band of my trousers. My trigger finger is feeling heavy and I don’t want Gage to piss me off and make me shoot him.
Gage takes a step towards me, dark circles under his eyes look stark. “I came because you never came back and I had to go to the meeting myself.” His jaw clenches.
“So, it’s sorted?” I ask.
He grabs me by the collar of my shirt. “Are you fucking serious?!”
I shove Gage off me. “Yeah, I am.”
He runs a hand down his face. “They want you. You shot a woman who had a connection to the Irish Mafia.”
I shrug. “Fuck sake, Gage. I shoot a lot of people.” Those words weigh heavily on my shoulders.
“Children?” He asks, then holds his hands up. “Don’t tell me.”
He glances behind me again. “Where’s Kate? Did you kill her?” He’s done waiting. He storms into the sitting room and I follow him in. He’s facing the door . “What the fuck is that?” He glances at me. “Is she locked in there? What is it?”
“She’s fine. You need to leave.” My hand moves to the waistband of my trousers and Gage follows my hand.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me?”
I grin at him. “It’s very tempting.”
“I know you don’t give a fuck about me, but they paid dad a visit.”
Blood drains from my body. “Is he dead?” I try to keep my breathing even.
“No, but they roughed him up.”
I nod as relief allows the blood to re-enter my system.
Gage steps closer. “They hurt mam.”
I can’t look at him. He’s blaming me. I shrug because I don’t know what else to do.
“Do you care?” He shoves me and the strain is heavy in his eyes.
“I get you’re upset, but don’t touch me.” He knows I don’t like to be touched.
“Let the girl go and we might be able to fix this.”
My stomach tightens. “Letting the girl go will do no good. You said it was over the woman I shot.”
“But they are using the girl as a way to bring you out. So release her and give them one less reason. These people are fucking serious, Dean!” He curls his hands into fists and steps away from me again, he’s back to glaring at the door.
“What the fuck do they want? I kill people. That’s what I do!” I’m shouting, because I have no idea how to fix this.
“They set up another meeting in two days’ time.”
I glare at Gage and sneer. “I’m not going. I’ll be clipped in a second.”
Gage clears the space and shoves me into the wall. “If you don’t show up, our parents will be their target. They won’t stop at me, Dean, think of mam and dad. For one fucking second, think of someone other than yourself.”
I shove Gage off me. “So what? I’m not a fucking martyr. I’m not going to die.”
“You’re a selfish bastard.” He’s facing the door again. “I want to see the girl.”
I laugh now. What the fuck was his hang up with Scarlett. Did he like her? “No.”
Gage pulls out a gun and I’m grinning. Honestly, I’m a little surprised that he has the balls to pull a gun on me.
“Open that door.”
“No.” I continue to grin.
He fires a shot into the ceiling, and I flinch. “Fuck sake, Gage! You’ll attract attention.”
He points the gun at the floor. “I’ll empty the rest into the floor.”
He knows he’s won. I move faster than he expects, my gun pointed at his head. “If you do, I’ll shoot you.” I threaten, and it’s his turn to grin.
“So, she is down there, and she must be alive.”
He’s watching me. “I already told you she’s alive.”
“I want to see her.”
He has no idea how close I am to pulling the trigger, or maybe he sees it in my eyes as he slowly puts away his gun.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I push the gun against his temple.
He growls at me, but wisely raises his hand. “I’ve told you everything. You’ve pissed off some pretty powerful people. Now I just want to save our parents’ lives.”
Letting Scarlett go might ease the anger of the people who want me dead, but they would still want me dead. Also, I wasn’t giving her up. I take the gun out of my brother’s face. The moment I do, his fist connects with my nose. The rush is instant as I bend over. Blood drips onto the wooden floor.
“This is a safe house?”
I glance up at Gage while holding my nose. I can only open one eye as pain radiates from my face.
“Yes.” I grit out.
Gage nods as I stand straight and wipe blood from my face.
“I’m bringing mam and dad here. They’ll be safe.”
“Sure, why don’t you come, too? We can sit down and have that family dinner we have always talked about.” He is out of his fucking mind. My own mind skips to Scarlett sitting with my parents.
“I will.”
I’m standing straighter. “I was joking.”
“I’m not.”
“What about Scarlett? How the fuck do I explain that?” I had to state the obvious. His grin has me clenching my fist
s.
“That’s your problem. Expect us here in a few hours.” He starts to walk away. “Also, maybe come up with a good cover story of why you have a safe house.”
“Don’t bring them back here!” I shout at Gage as a new panic starts to rise. I don’t want people in my space. The front door slams and I’m staring at the wall.
Fuck.
I arrive into the kitchen and Scarlett isn’t there. I’m not overly surprised. I’m waiting for her to charge or attack me with something, but I don’t hear a sound. Taking the dish cloth, I run it under the cold tap and press it against my nose as I walk through my home. Is he really going to bring our parents here? How would I explain Scarlett? I could lock her up until we got this sorted. Two days. She’d only be locked away for two days. I could duct tape her mouth so she didn’t make any noise. Tie her to the bed.
I open the doors as I pass but each empty room has my stomach twisting. When I enter the bedroom, her tear soaked face glances up at me.
“What happened?” I drop the cloth and I’m gripping her face. Had Gage deceived me? Had someone hurt her while I was up there with him? She’s not speaking and everything in me is crashing.
“What happened?” I squeeze her face tighter.
“I heard a gunshot…” Her words trail off as she sobs and I pull her into my chest. I can’t think clearly as blood pumps too quickly around my body.
“I thought they shot you.” She’s whimpering and I pull her tighter to me. She is crying for me. She has been worried. She has been as worried about me as I have been about her. I plant a kiss on the crown of her head.
“I’m okay. I’m here.” I smile into her hair and she clings to me. If I had been shot, she would have been stuck down here. That’s what she is fucking crying over. It wasn’t over me. It was being left here alone. I pull her tighter, burying her face against my chest. Her small hand taps my back and I close my eyes as I hold her tighter. I need to end her now, end her before she consumes me.
I tighten my hold on her until her slaps turn more frantic. I’m away from her and she’s gasping and staring up at me. I push my hands behind my back, like I didn’t just consider killing her.