by Eden Summers
“Find your father,” I grate in her ear. “We don’t move until we see him.”
Her head pivots, scoping the yard, while I do the same.
There’s not enough light. Too much noise.
“Over there.” Abri shrugs her right shoulder.
I follow her line of sight, finding Emmanuel on the pebbled path, Salvatore at his side, both hustling toward the helicopter. “I don’t see the kids.”
Where is my fucking niece and brother?
“We’re running out of time, snowflake. And if this doesn’t work, nobody is going to like what I do next.”
She stands taller, her posture rigid despite our agreement. “Give Remy a few more seconds. He won’t hurt them, I promise. He’d never harm a child. And he’d never risk my life either.”
My adrenaline kicks up a notch. My paranoia, too.
I need to come up with another plan.
Fast.
“Look,” she blurts. “There they are.”
Remy walks out from beside the house, the kids in front of him, his grip on their shoulders one of casual intimidation.
“You better hope you’re right about him.” I snarl, despising his audacity to touch them, and take the first step away from the house. “Otherwise my hand won’t be the only thing that’s left bleeding.”
31
Anissa
Dirt scratches my eyes as Hunter and I lay on the moist grass, the chopper’s blades whipping dust and mulch around our faces.
We’ve stuck to the shadows, slowly creeping past the tree line and farther into the house yard as Cole stands on the porch with the woman, one bloodied hand around her throat, the other holding a gun to her head.
“They’re leading Stella and Tobias toward the helicopter.” Benji’s voice carries through my earpiece, his tone frantic. “I won’t let them take her again.”
“Stay out of sight,” Hunter warns. “We don’t know what’s going on yet.”
That’s not true.
We know Cole has taken a woman hostage. He’s hurt her, the carnage from her neck soaking into her white blouse, the liquid staining his hand.
I should feel sympathy. Even compassion.
I don’t.
I can’t muster anything with this gnawing hunger to get the kids and Cole to safety eating away at my soul.
“We’re not going to let anyone take them away from here.” I have no basis for my assurance. Not when the Costa’s bearded son is marching the children toward the fence leading to the open field. All I know is that I’ll risk my life before I let Emmanuel succeed.
“You can’t expect me to wait, Hunt,” Benji growls. “Make a move before I do it myself.”
“I swear to God, if you don’t fucking stick to the shadows I’m going to have an even bigger issue with you than I already do.” Hunter crawls farther along the grass, keeping in line with Cole.
I glance behind me, toward the house and into the darkness, trying to find the rest of our team among the trees.
Hunter and I took the far side of the property. Sarah, Luca, and Benji took the opposite. They’re meant to be mimicking our position, staying in line with Cole, waiting for any sign that he’s lost control of the situation.
“We need to wait.” I keep my voice low. “We don’t want to scare anyone into making a rash decision. Cole included.”
I keep slithering along the grass as our target walks the woman through the garden and around some bushes, approaching the wooden fence. The kids climb through a few feet ahead, the man guiding them closer and closer to the helicopter.
“Still feel loyal to him with what he’s doing to that woman?” Hunter asks beside me.
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate.
She’s one of them—the enemy.
If anything, Cole is teaching her a valuable lesson about straddling the laps of men who are spoken for.
“Maybe we’re wearing off on you after all.” He raises into a crouch, retrieves his gun, and starts moving forward again.
“Wait.” I hustle to keep up. “What are you doing?”
“We need to—”
“Benji, pull back.” Sarah’s concern cuts into my ear. “They’re going to see you.”
I swivel, panicked, and scan the other side of the yard.
“You better fucking listen to her.” Hunter’s voice is lethal. “You’re walking a knife’s edge as it is.”
“That’s my daughter,” Benji pleads. “What the fuck would you do in my position?”
“Listen,” Luca cuts in. “I’d fucking listen. Now get your ass back here.”
The bearded blond leads the kids away from the fence, as Cole and the woman climb through the railings. They’re too close to the helicopter. I can already picture Costa’s son hauling their little bodies under his arms to run them toward his family.
“Stop.” Cole’s shout is heard over the constant whip of air. “Stay there.”
The blond shakes his head, relaying something indecipherable in return. He indicates for his sister to move forward with a wave of his hand.
They’re doing an exchange.
“This isn’t going to work.” Benji’s voice is brutal. “As soon as he lets her go, he’s dead.”
Tobias and Stella’s faces are pale against the floodlights, their eyes wide with panic.
“He’s got a plan. He knows what he’s doing. Just look at him.” I keep crawling as I focus on Cole. He stands tall, confident, unshakable. He isn’t cowering. The gun in his hand doesn’t tremble. He believes he has this under control, and we need to trust him.
“Fucking hell.” Hunter points across the yard, his finger leading to Benji who steps from the shadows in his tailored suit to stand in plain sight, his gun raised.
My stomach nosedives. “If they see him…”
I can’t finish the sentence; the fear is too much.
“Get back,” I snarl the demand, my vehemence explosive. “Before I take you down myself.”
Cole keeps the woman tight against his chest, the guards, the sons, and Costa all watching him as Benji continues to inch forward.
It’s only a matter of time before he’s seen.
I huddle next to Hunter. “We need to get closer.” I raise into a crouch and pull out my gun. “Once they notice—”
“Benji no,” Sarah’s shout rings through my earpiece.
“Fuck.” Hunter takes off in a run.
I do the same, not understanding what’s happening or where I’m going until I see Benji sprinting through the garden, his gun bobbing in front of him, his focus on his daughter.
I witness the moment the guards notice. I see them aim their weapons as the older son shoves his father into the helicopter.
“Benji,” Luca yells. “Stop.”
Shots are fired. Stella screams. Men shout.
Hysteria descends as Hunter drops to his knees in front of me, raining bullets at the helicopter.
“Take cover.” He grabs for me as I pass.
I don’t listen. I don’t stop.
I slap away his hand and push my legs as fast as they’ll carry me, diving between the fence railings while the bearded man sprints for his family.
“Get down,” Cole roars at the children, still standing tall, his gun blasting at the enemy as he pushes the woman free.
There’s so much noise. Destruction bombards my ears, filling me with terror.
A guttural shout breaks through the commotion. A guard falls to his knees, clutching his thigh.
I anticipate the pain of that shot. I imagine the impact of a life-threatening bullet as my legs burn from exertion. Still, I don’t stop. I’m the closest protection the children have and I won’t let them down. Not even when Stella and Tobias turn to me in fear, Cole’s niece taking a backward step at my approach.
I barrel into them, arms outstretched, slamming us all to the ground.
“Don’t move.” I stay on top of them as Stella gasps for air and tries to scream. I use my body as a shield in the dry
grass, cradling their heads with my hands. “Stay down.”
So many shouts break through the night. Demands. Threats.
The whip of the chopper increases, the swish of blades kicking up dirt and twigs. I squeeze my eyes shut as I drag the kids farther into me, covering them the best I can as more gunfire rains down around us.
A tornado of movement swirls above my head, the brightness from the floodlights dimming behind my eyelids.
“You’re okay.” I talk to the children, rambling nonsense. “This will all be over soon.”
Footsteps thunder toward us. A heavy weight slams into my back.
“I’ve got you.”
It’s him. Cole.
He helps to shield the children as the noise above us lessens, the whoosh of air fading with each heartbeat until the storm of sound is almost gone.
I could cry with relief, the burn of threatening tears taking over my closed eyes… until the pungent smell of blood fills my lungs, the scent stealing my hope to leave me cold.
32
Cole
“Daddy.” Stella scrambles out from beneath us and runs for her father.
“Toby?” Luca yells. “Where are you?”
“He’s here.” Nissa shifts, giving the boy freedom to rush to his feet.
I don’t move. I barely budge an inch from my resting place against her back while the commotion of a heartfelt reunion sounds behind us.
I need a moment. Just one. To breathe her in and remember she’s mine.
“Is everyone accounted for?” Hunt shouts. “Torian, where the fuck are you?”
“I’m here.”
Anissa wiggles, attempting to free herself.
“Don’t move.” I speak against her neck, drawing the scent of her deep into my lungs. I’m owed one fucking second of calm before I have to concentrate on getting everyone out of here. “Tell me you’re okay.”
She stills, relaxing. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” I shift to the side and help her turn to face me, those emotional eyes staring back at me through the night. “That didn’t go down how I’d expected.”
“I know.” She cringes. “I’m sorry. Benji wouldn’t listen.”
I ignore the anger over my brother-in-law’s actions, not wanting anything other than my little fox claiming my attention through the adrenaline detox.
“I smell blood.” Her tongue anxiously slides out to swipe her lower lip. “Are you hurt?”
“My palm is going to need a few stitches.”
“Why?” She grabs for my wrist, turning over my hand to inspect the injury. “Jesus Christ, what happened?”
“I told Costa I’d sliced his daughter’s neck. It had to look real.”
“So you stabbed yourself?” she asks. “Next time draw the enemy’s blood, not your own.”
“I’ll make sure to do that.” I grin and lean in, pressing my forehead to hers. “How’d you find me?”
“We followed the scent of your dumbass decisions. Didn’t you ever learn not to get into a car with strangers?”
I snicker, plastering my mouth to hers. I part her lips with my tongue, delving deep, drowning in her. All it takes is a taste and I’m grounded.
“Let’s get out of here.” Sarah claps her hands nearby. “If a helicopter and gunfire don’t draw the cops, I don’t know what will.”
I’m not ready. Not even close.
I keep my lips smashed to Nissa’s, needing her, craving her.
“Come on, Torian.” Hunt approaches, his boots crunching in the grass. “We’ve gotta move.”
“He’s right.” Anissa breaks the kiss, placing her hands on my chest to push me back. “I can’t be here if police arrive.” She climbs to her feet and waits for me to follow. “We’ve got two cars parked at the front of the property.”
“We’re going to need to clean up inside first. My blood is on the floor.”
“Where?” Hunt walks backward toward the house, reaching into his pants pocket.
“Through the French doors. Maybe on the porch.”
“Leave it with me. You guys get out of here.” He lobs a car fob through the darkness at Nissa. “Take the kids and Benji. We’ll follow a few minutes behind.”
“Are you sure?” she asks.
He turns his back, striding hard. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Come on.” I grab her hand and lead her toward Benji and Luca who are huddled with the kids on the pebbled path. “Let’s go.” I raise my voice, drawing their attention. “Benji, you and the kids are coming with us. Everyone else can get a ride in the second car.”
“Sure thing.” Luca grabs Toby’s shoulders. “It’s all over now, little man. Penny’s waiting for you back in the city. We won’t be far behind you.”
I slow my steps at the sight of my half-brother. The poor kid is going to have a lot of unpacking to do once we get home. His mental suitcases were already stuffed with trauma before he arrived in Portland; now he’s got this shit to deal with, too.
“Hey.” I stop before him, looking down at the resilient jut of his chin. “How are you holding up?”
He nods. There’s no reassuring expression or search for comfort—just wide eyes and thin lips.
“Are you ready to get back to Penny?”
Another nod. No emotion. No warmth.
“Come on.” Anissa places a hand on his shoulder, leading him along the path.
I lag a step behind, giving him space. In the coming days, I’ll need to make decisions about his future—who he’ll live with, what school he’ll go to, what role he’ll play within the family.
If he doesn’t already despise me, I’m sure he will by then. But right now, I have enough of that toxicity focused toward Benji to drown out the static of what’s to come.
We pass the house, then the front porch, with Stella and her father dragging their feet behind us. Every scrape of his shoes against the stones grates on my nerves, building my resentment.
I’d had the situation with Costa under control. I’d been fucking heartbeats from getting Stella and Tobias free without a goddamn bullet exchange, until he fucked it up.
Now he has even more to answer for.
Nissa leads the way out the front gates and along the road, the distance growing between us and the huddled father and daughter duo trailing behind. When she reaches the Escalade, she helps Tobias into the back seat, closing the door behind him before meeting up with me at the front of the car.
“I can already tell you’re pissed at Benji. But go easy on him. He was worried for his daughter.”
“Don’t soften for him, little fox.” I glide stray strands of hair behind her ear, smudging blood near her temple. “He caused this. Not only tonight, but the entire situation. If it wasn’t for—”
“I know.” She steps into me. Foot to foot. Hands to my chest. “I really do. Just let it go for now. Let him be with Stella without having to worry about what lies ahead. If not for him, do it for her. She needs her father’s comfort after everything that’s happened.”
She’s right. But it doesn’t lessen my animosity.
Benji needs to be dealt with. There’s no escaping punishment. Whatever that is, I still haven’t determined.
“Please, Cole.” She twists her fingers in my shirt. “Let them have a few days.”
“Yeah. Okay.” I hold out my good hand. “Give me the keys.”
“I’m driving.” She turns for the car, striding away like a confident warrior. “You have to bandage yourself up.”
“When did you turn into an overlord?”
She laughs. “When you left me alone with your thugs.”
“I guess I need to do that more often in the future.” I head toward the passenger side, ignoring the humorous glare she gives me.
“Don’t even joke about it. Hunter and I almost killed each other.”
“But you didn’t, which is better than ninety percent of the people he works with.” I open my door and slide in, Nissa doing the same on the driver�
��s side.
She starts the engine once Stella and Benji round the hood, the headlights illuminating Sarah, Hunt, and Luca casually jogging toward us in the distance.
It’s all done. Over. Yet there’s no sense of relief when the damage has already been inflicted.
“That was quick.” She waits for the father-daughter duo to climb inside, then puts the car into gear.
“Hunt knows what he’s doing.” I turn, meeting my niece’s gaze as she crawls into the middle seat and clasps her belt. “Ready to go, little one?”
She nuzzles into Benji’s side and nods.
“How about you, Toby?” I switch my focus to the boy who stares out the window, not meeting my gaze.
“Yeah,” he mutters.
The poor kid deserves a lot better than what I’ve given him.
“Time to go home.” Nissa pulls onto the road, doing a U-turn to drive back toward the city.
We sit in silence, rounding the wide corners as we skirt the darkened farmland.
I glance at my niece and Benji every now and then, needing the sight of their bond to soften my thoughts for his future.
They’re arm in arm, huddled close. Stella blinks back at me each time, but Benji is lost in the moment, his eyes closed, his face hard with emotion as he clings to his little girl.
He may not be a loyal soldier, but I’ll admit he’s a good father. A doting dad.
That’s the only thing working in his favor.
“Where’s Mom?” Stella murmurs.
“She’s waiting for you.” Benji’s voice is roughened. Emotional. And so it should be.
We wouldn’t have a building vendetta against Costa if it wasn’t for him. There’d be no mental scars for Stella. No death of her babysitter. No bullshit to cover up with Robert.
I turn back toward the road, my thoughts of punishment building.
I’d worked out a plan with Abri—one where I’d promised no retaliation toward her father. One where I could be left in peace to enjoy Anissa. Now all the future holds is vengeance for the motherfuckers who dared to fire their weapons in the presence of children.