Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I woke up tangled in Merrick’s arms, the weight of his body heavy and grounding. Carefully, I slid out from under him, grabbed my phone from the nightstand, and slipped quietly out of the bedroom.
In the kitchen, the smell of brewing coffee filled the air as I sat on the couch, scrolling on my phone.
The device pinged, and my chest tightened in anguish as I read the text message.
Over the past few weeks, I’d avoided calls from Alec’s mother and sister.
Now I knew why they’d been so insistent.
Grief cracked open in me raw and fresh, like no time had passed at all.
They wanted me to return to our alma mater for the ribbon cutting of a new child development lab—one they were naming in his honor.
I didn’t even hear Merrick until the deep timbre of his voice cut gently into the silence. “What’s wrong, Wildfire?”
Startled, I handed him my phone, not trusting myself to speak without my voice cracking. His brow furrowed as he read it, then lifted his steady gaze back to me.
“You should go,” he said, his voice low and steady.
Tears pricked hot, and I shook my head. “I don’t think I can.”
He sat beside me, pulling me into his chest in a tight embrace that told me I didn’t have to hold myself together. His lips brushed my temple. “I’ll go with you.”
I blinked up at him. “Really?”
“Really,” he said firmly.
I swallowed hard. “It’s just … going back there, seeing everyone, remembering …”
Merrick squeezed my hand. “I know. But sometimes, the only way through is to face it. Alec deserves to be remembered. And you deserve to heal.”
I wiped at my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. “Maybe.”
He smiled, just a little. “So, a child development lab?”
Grateful for the distraction, I exhaled. “Alec was a child psychologist. He wanted to work in public schools and help kids who were struggling. He always said if he could change just one kid’s life, it was enough.”
Merrick nodded, his expression thoughtful. “He sounds like a good man.”
“He was,” I whispered.
There was a silence, heavier but not uncomfortable. Then Merrick cleared his throat, almost uncertainly. “You want kids?”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “No. Alec did, though. It was always a pain point between us.”
Relief flickered in his gaze. “Good. I’ve never wanted them either. Why bring kids into this fucked-up world?”
I managed a shaky smile. “Exactly. Plus, they’re sticky and loud and smelly. I do want a few dogs, though,” I added. “And a goat. Maybe two. Oh, and some chickens. And a peacock.”
Merrick tilted his head at me, exasperated. “So no kids, but you want a goddamn petting zoo?”
I grinned, shrugging. “Pretty much.”
He shook his head, muttering under his breath. “The things I am willing to put up with for you, Wildfire.”
A loud honk sounded from outside the window, startling us both. I looked up, confused.
Merrick stood and walked to it, pulling back the curtain. “Looks like the prospects are here with the furniture.”
“What furniture?” I followed him, peering over his shoulder. A moving truck idled in the driveway, a club prospect leaning against the hood, arms crossed.
Merrick turned to me, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “You’re moving in. First load’s the big stuff—couches and tables. Whatever you want to keep here, we’ll bring in. The rest can go into storage.”
I blinked, still processing. “But I haven’t even packed anything.”
He shrugged, his tone casual but his eyes warm. “You can pack today. ”
I stared at him, torn between surprise and something softer, something that made my chest ache in the best way. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
He stepped closer, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. His knuckles grazed my jaw, making me meet his gaze. “Dead fucking serious, Wildfire.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You asked me to move in less than twelve hours ago.”
“And?” He brushed a loose strand of hair back from my face. “Life’s short. I don’t waste time when I know what I want.”
I laughed. “Old man logic.”
“Smart man logic,” he countered with a grin. “Get dressed. I’ll unload with the prospects before heading to Fort Worth for club business.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Just say you’re doing shady biker shit you can’t tell me about.”
His grin widened. “I’m doing shady biker shit today. Put some clothes on before the prospects see you. I’d hate to have to rip their eyeballs out.”
I shook my head and pressed my lips to his.
“If you need anything while I’m doing said shady shit, ask one of the prospects or call Fuse. He’ll be hanging out with Hatchet today,” Merrick said.
An hour later, I faced a stack of moving boxes and a small army of new prospects assigned the unfortunate duty of helping me.
“What can I pack?” asked Arson, a lanky man with jet-black hair and flame tattoos licking up his arms.
“The entire kitchen? Merrick owns like two cups and paper plates,” I said with a laugh.
Arson chuckled. “Perfect. I can take this room if you want to take another. You’ll have to tell the guys what you want them to pack, though, because Merrick said, and I quote, ‘Don’t go through her shit without asking first.’ And none of us wants to piss off the boss.”
I shook my head. Overprotective alpha males.
“Bayou, can you pack up my office? I have a lot of books.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said in his deep Southern accent, nodding at me as he grabbed a set of boxes and headed down the hall.
“And Zen, I think you could handle anything that’s in the main room and the closets. I’d like to take the blankets and throw pillows to Merrick’s, but everything else can go into storage for now. I’ll handle packing my bedroom and bathroom.”
Zen nodded, his mop of dark-blue hair falling over his face.
I lugged a box into my room, shut the door, and yanked open the nightstand drawer. My hand closed around the small collection of toys I wasn’t about to let a prospect stumble across. I tossed them into the bottom of the box, then buried them under T-shirts and leggings.
“Sorry, boys, no bonus finds for you today,” I muttered to myself.
By the time I emerged after packing my room, nearly the entire house was boxed and taped. The men were loading the truck like an efficient machine.
Arson wiped sweat from his brow. “We’ll get the rest of your boxes in the truck and over to Merrick’s. Just send us a text if you need anything else,” he offered.
I thanked the men, sending them off with bottles of ice-cold water from my nearly empty refrigerator.
Alone in the house, I started cleaning the kitchen. The counters were bare except for a stack of library books I’d set aside while packing. I picked them up, frowning at the overdue notices tucked inside. They needed to go back downtown.
I considered waiting for Merrick to go with me, but he was busy with whatever secretive club business kept him unavailable today.
Asking a prospect to escort me to the library felt absurd.
Besides, the sooner I got the books returned and cleaned up the house, the sooner I could pass the keys back to Eva so she could rent it out.
I grabbed my keys and jumped into my Range Rover, heading downtown. The streets buzzed with the lunchtime crowd, and parking in front of the library was full. I circled the block twice before finding a spot farther down the street.
Inside the cool library, I dropped off the books and breathed a sigh of relief—one less thing to worry about. As I walked back to my car, I pulled out my phone to check for messages. I sent a funny GIF to Hatchet and responded to my brother, who was asking when I’d be returning for a visit.
The street was quiet, the sun high and hot overhead, but something prickled at the back of my neck. I slowed and glanced backward casually.
A man in a dark bandanna stood twenty yards back.
My heart skipped a beat as his eyes met mine.
I quickened my pace, turning the next corner. I glanced back again, my gut clenching as I realized he’d closed the gap between us.
I forced myself to walk faster. Coincidence, I lied to myself. He wasn’t following me. We just happened to be heading in the same direction.
My paranoia felt ridiculous, but the feeling in my gut wouldn’t go away.
I chanced another glance. He was closer.
My walk turned into a clipped power stride.
I turned another corner and glanced around.
In my haste, I realized I’d passed the street where I’d parked and headed toward an abandoned construction site on a more industrial block.
The hospital where Hatchet lay loomed in the distance, its sign a beacon, but it might as well have been miles away.
I ducked behind a stack of wooden pallets, crouching low. My hands shook as I tried to call Merrick. Voicemail. Damn it. I dialed Fuse next, my breath coming in short gasps.
He picked up immediately. “Kenna. What’s wrong?” I could hear Hatchet in the background, demanding to know what was happening.
“I think I’m being followed,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I’m hiding in a construction site near the hospital. But maybe I’m being paranoid.”
“Trust your gut,” Fuse urged. “If you felt it, you’re not imagining it. Stay hidden, but run if you can get away.”
My stomach dropped as the man crossed my line of vision. His boots crunched slowly across gravel. Hunting me.
“Kenna Walsh,” the man sang, his accented voice echoing across the abandoned space. “Come out, come out, wherever you are …”
I whispered a curse. “He’s here. And he knows my name.”
“Listen to me,” Fuse said, his voice steady. “Stay silent, and stay on the line so I can listen in. I’m coming. Do you know the cross streets? Or see any signs that can help me find you?”
“It’s the abandoned Zaide building not far from the library.”
“I know where that is. I’m on my way. Stay calm. And Kenna, if he gets to you, you fight with everything you’ve got.”
I pressed myself deeper into the shadows, my pulse pounding in my ears. Even from a distance, I could hear the man’s footsteps crunching on gravel as he moved closer.