Chapter Thirteen
Gideon
By the time I make it to the hospital, they've got Zion in a room. Ma and Zayne are already there. Zayne comes out to the waiting room to meet me, looking like he's aged fifteen years.
Aside from the receptionist at the desk, we're the only ones here. I guess it's too early in the day for the mad rush.
"He's alive," he says without preamble. "He's going to be fine."
"Thank God," I breathe. For the last forty-five minutes, I've run through every worst-case scenario on repeat. It's hard not to go there. This is Zion. We damn near lost him once. They weren't sure if he'd survive the flight home. Or surgery. Or the first days or weeks. We clung to hope by the skin of our teeth. And he clung to life by his.
We can't go through that shit again.
"What happened?"
"Lyle Taggert shot him." Taggert has been harassing the model that Zion's protecting. However, from what Zayne said last time we talked, I think our little brother may be doing more than just protecting Makenzie Baird. It sounds to me like I'm not the only Carmichael breaking Rule One.
I suppose it's fitting that we'd all fall in love at the same goddamn time. We've done everything else together our entire lives.
"Did Zion kill him?"
"Sadly, no." Zayne's eyes glitter with malice. "But some genius thought it'd be a good idea to bring him here too. He's right across the hall. Our little brother has been tryin' to get over there to finish the job since he found out."
"Good," I grunt.
"You should go back and see him so you can get back to your girl. I know you don't like to leave her for long."
I eye Zayne sideways. "You sound disturbingly rational today. Why?"
"Maybe I'm just in a good mood."
"Your brother just got shot, jackass. Why are you in a good mood?"
He shrugs, refusing to answer.
"Holy shit," I mutter. "She stopped telling you no."
"Where the fuck have you been? She stopped tellin' me no days ago. We're planning our wedding already." He smirks, his eyes lighter than they've been in weeks. "I bet we beat you to the altar."
"I'm not betting on which of us gets married first, you idiot. My girl is being stalked."
"So, you admit that she is yours."
"You remember that time you hid poison ivy in Zion's sock drawer, but Ma swapped his sock and underwear drawers around the next day and didn't notice the leaf?" I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Keep pissing me off, and I'm telling them both why he had a goddamn rash on his ass for three months."
"Damn, I forgot about that." Zayne laughs.
"Yeah, she's mine," I growl. "And I may need your help tomorrow." I quickly fill him in on the situation, catching him up to speed on everything that's been going on.
"Jesus H. Christ, Gideon. Why the fuck haven't you said anything about any of this?" he growls, glaring daggers at me.
"I've been handling it."
"Yeah, well, we don't handle shit like this alone. There's a reason Zion's back there right now. He thought he was handling his shit too." Zayne mutters a curse. "I should kick both of your asses."
"Or you could be the older brother you've always been and help a motherfucker out," I suggest. "Because that's what I need right now, Zayne. You can be pissed later. But for now, I just need you to help me make sure I don't lose the most important person I've ever met."
"You know I've got you." He clamps his hand down on my shoulder. "You don't even have to fucking ask. I'll be there."
I exhale, grateful beyond words that this idiot is my brother. There isn't anyone else I'd rather have watching my back than him and Zion. Zion can't be there. He's got a bullet hole in him and his own shit to deal with. But knowing Zayne will be at the arena tomorrow to help keep my girl safe makes me feel a whole helluva lot better.
I check in on Zion and spend a few minutes watching Ma fuss over him before Makenzie arrives. As soon as she sees Zion, she sinks to the floor. My brother is across the room to her in two steps, pulling her onto his lap.
I avert my gaze, trying to give them a little bit of privacy as they share a private moment. When he starts growling that she's marrying him, I decide it's time for me to get the fuck out of there.
I leave Ma with Zayne and head to the truck, eager to get back to my girl. After seeing Zion with his, I'm more convinced than ever that Kenna is the only woman for me.
I try to call her on the way to the truck, but she doesn't answer. She must be at the studio already.
I notice several missed calls from Trent and dial his number to see if he has anything for me. Surely, he's calling with good news.
"Hey, I've been trying to reach you."
"I know. That's why I'm calling. What's up?"
"I have something."
"Give it to me."
"John Ballentine and Clive Rucker are old high school buddies," he says. "Rucker nearly lost the bar a dozen years ago. Guess who bailed him out?"
"Jesus. You're sure?"
"Positive. I even pulled up the damn yearbook. They were tight."
"Tight enough for Clive to commit crimes for him?"
"Tight enough for John to pay off a quarter of a mill in gambling debts to save his bar," Trent says. "You wanted someone who owes John; he's your guy. It looks to me like he owes him a whole helluva lot."
"Fuck." I never even considered Rucker, but I should have. He had access to the entire bar. He could have easily slipped into the dressing room and planted those photos. No one would have noticed. Why would they when he owned the fucking place?
Same thing with the flowers and the poem. I'm guessing at least some of them showed up at his place. Kenna's been playing there two or three times a month since she hired John.
The missing piece has been staring me in the face the whole time. It was that motherfucker.
"We need to find him," I growl, popping the truck's locks and climbing in.
"Already on it," Trent says. "I had dispatch issue a BOLO fifteen minutes ago. And I've got an unmarked sitting outside his house. When he shows up, we'll be ready to snatch him up for questioning."
"I want to be there."
"Hell no. If you want anyone to do jail time, you need to stay away, Carmichael. If you fuck up the investigation, they'll walk. You know how fucking hard it is to nail a stalker's ass to the wall."
"I didn't say I wanted to be in the room. You can put me behind the glass wall for all I care. But I want to hear what he has to say. He's our link to Ballentine. Until we find him, I need to know what the fuck we're dealing with."
"Son of a bitch," Trent growls. "Fine. I'll run it by the captain."
"Do that."
My phone buzzes with an incoming call. I glance at the screen to see Kane's name. "Let me call you back. I need to fill Kane in."
"Don't you two try any cowboy shit," he warns me. "I mean it, Carmichael. If you go after him and he slips through your fingers, you'll blow the only advantage we've got."
"I'm aware," I snap. "Jesus. This isn't my first time around the goddamn block." I hang up on him before he pisses me off anymore, swiping to answer Kane's call. "Hey. I've got news."
"Where the fuck is Kenna?"
"What do you mean where is Kenna? She's supposed to be with you. She told me she was going to call you to go to the studio with her."
"She did call me," Kane growls. "I just got to your place to get her, but she isn't here."
"You're sure?"
"I'm positive. I've checked every damn room in this monstrosity. All of her shit is here, but she isn't."
She wouldn't leave by herself. She's too afraid to risk it. And she wouldn't leave all of her shit behind, either. She doesn't go anywhere without her phone.
"Fuck!" I hit the ignition button as fear and rage surge through me in tandem. They threaten to engulf me, drowning me in a sea of fury. And with nowhere to aim it, I choke on it. "That motherfucker has her."
As soon as I say the words, a piece of my soul cracks. Ice spreads through my veins, freezing me from the inside out. He fucking has her. Jesus Christ. He has her.
"Who? John?"
"Yes," I growl, slamming the truck into drive. My hands shake as I peel out of the lot, speeding toward the house. My entire body is numb and disconnected. Maybe that's a good thing. I can't feel the pain if I can't even feel my limbs. "I just got off the phone with Trent. Clive Rucker is his bitch."
"That shady son of a bitch," Kane roars.
"Stay there. I'm on my way, and I'm bringing backup." I hang up with him and dial Zayne, whipping in and out of traffic at a high rate of speed. I don't care if anyone tries to pull me over. Let them. It'll just mean a cop at my house that much sooner because I'm not stopping until I get there.
"Do you miss me already?"
"Get your ass to my house now. Kenna is missing."
Zayne doesn't ask any questions. He just jumps into action. "I'm on the way."
I hang up with him and dial Trent back, trying like hell not to panic. She needs me to keep a clear head right now. I can panic when she's back in my arms, safe and sound. Until then, I need to work the damn problem.
That's how I help her. I work the problem.
Please, God. Please don't take her from me.
For so long, she was afraid to love because she was afraid to lose. She didn't want to be left behind. I won't be. If that motherfucker takes her from me, he's taking my soul. I won't survive it. We aren't meant to live without our souls. We can't. I can't.
"Kenna's missing," I say as soon as he answers the phone. "Kane is at the house, and she's not there."
"She isn't missing, Gideon," he says quietly, something in his tone that threatens to break me wide open. "Clive pulled up at his house with her in tow not even five minutes ago. I already have units on the way."
No. Fuck no.
They really do have her.
"I'm getting her back," I rasp, choking on the emotion clawing its way up my throat. "I don't care what I have to do. I'm getting her back."
"Yeah, we're getting her back, brother," Trent promises. "I'll meet you at your place. We'll go together."