Chapter 13
Kylie
A loud bang jerks me awake. I sit up straight on the couch and fight to find my bearings. The sun is already up, shining through the light fog in the living room side window, and the red numbers on the microwave blare a new day in the kitchen.
I’m confused and weary, but when another bang sounds from outside on the street, I move on sheer instinct alone.
Shit! The freaking garbage! I must’ve forgotten again!
Bolting off the couch, I race toward the garage door on shaky legs and adrenaline. Unlocking it brusquely, I lean out and hit the clicker for the overhead door and take the steps down to the concrete three at a time.
Cold air hits my face as the garage door rises, and I time my exit, skittering under the door with just enough clearance to hit the driveway at a run.
But my feet skid to a stop when I come face-to-face with two men in dark suits walking toward me. There’s no garbage truck. No Rook. Just a blacked-out Escalade sitting in my driveway, idling in place.
That’s when it hits me—it’s not Tuesday. It’s Friday.
And I don’t know these men at all.
“Kylie Moon?” the taller of the two calls out. His voice is calm and neutral, like he’s a teacher taking attendance.
Every hair on my body stands up.
The men close the distance between us quickly, though they’re still standing a good twenty feet from me when they come to a stop.
They look too put together for this to be random, but they don’t look official in any sense of the word I’ve ever known.
They’re not in police uniforms. They don’t have badges.
If anything, they’re dressed in fancy suits I’m more likely to see in an advertisement for Dior than at the department store at the Concordia Mall.
“W-who are you?” My voice is thin, and my hands shake as an overwhelming sense of fear consumes my nerves.
“We’re here to bring you somewhere safe,” the tall man says, his voice still eerily calm. “There’s been a concern.”
“A concern?” My stomach falls to my feet. “What? Who are you? What are you talking about?”
The other man, the shorter of the two, with eyes so light they seem almost translucent in the sun, takes steps closer to me. “Just come with us, and we’ll get everything straightened out.”
His palms are out and his shoulders are relaxed. His posture isn’t threatening, but he removes ten feet of distance between us with his strides. “I can assure you, it’s for your safety.”
When I don’t respond or make any moves to walk toward them, he frowns.
“There’s no need to make this difficult. Just come with us.”
“I don’t know who you are.” My throat tightens. “I—I’m not going anywhere with you.”
The taller man gives a small sigh like I’m inconveniencing him.
“I understand you’re confused,” he says. “But you need to come with us now. It’s very important.”
“No.” My head is already shaking back and forth, like my body is responding before my brain can. “I think you need to get off my property.” I take a step back toward my garage. The concrete is ice-cold under my bare feet, but my brain barely registers it.
A third man appears from the passenger side of the Escalade. He’s taller and broader than the two guys standing in front of me and moving with determined steps. “There’s no need to worry. We’re going to keep you safe.”
His words should be reassuring, but they only make my pulse hit Olympian-sprinter-level speeds.
“You need to leave.”
“Listen,” the man with the light eyes says. “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way.”
My mouth goes dry. “I’m calling the police.”
He doesn’t react to that threat—none of them does—and that’s the most terrifying part.
Every instinct in my body tells me to run.
I fumble to get back into the garage, feet slipping as I try to move as quick as I can, but before I can get beneath the door, a hand clamps over my wrist and yanks me back a few feet.
I freeze, and when I look up, I find the tallest man of the three invading my personal space. His eyes are narrowed and dark in ways my brain can’t comprehend.
When I try to yank my hand away from his hold, he leans toward me so we’re almost nose to nose. “Don’t,” he says, his voice harsh.
I want to scream, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. My breath is sharp and frantic, and I twist my arm back and forth manically, trying to pull free from him.
But his grip just tightens around my wrist.
“Stop, Kylie. We don’t have time for this.”
How he even knows my name when I’ve never seen him in my entire life makes my panic spike into something that feels a lot like lava. “Let go of me!”
I try to scream again, but it comes out strangled.
“Relax—” he starts to say, already dragging me toward their Escalade, but another voice cuts through the air.
“Take your hand off her.”
The man stops, and I turn my head to find Rook Slater walking up my driveway. He’s not in his uniform or work boots, but in jeans and a dark jacket, hair messy like he didn’t sleep. His eyes are locked on the man still gripping my wrist, and this isn’t the grumpy demeanor I’ve grown accustomed to.
It’s harsher. Sharper. And it looks like he would burn the world down for me rather than against me.
Kane and Calloway follow behind him.
Kane is looking directly at Rook, while Calloway’s gaze slides over the men like he’s counting them.
“Rook Slater.” The man with the light eyes smiles faintly. “We heard some rumblings. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.”
Rook doesn’t smile back.
“This doesn’t involve you,” the man still holding my wrist says.
“Yeah, it does.” Rook takes one more step forward. “Because it involves her.”
“She’s coming with us,” the man says.
Rook tilts his head slightly. “No.”
And then, he moves.
It’s not fast like a normal person fast, but fast like my brain can’t keep up with what I’m seeing. One second, he’s standing there. The next, the man holding my wrist is within Rook’s grasp, and choking sounds are coming from his lungs.
I stumble back, wrist suddenly free, but shock making my knees weak. It takes all my strength to stay on my feet.
The man with the light eyes lunges and Kane intercepts him like a truck hitting a deer, and the impact is loud and violent in ways that make their hockey brawls look like child’s play.
Calloway’s already on the other man, shoving him back against the Escalade with a sound that makes me flinch.
Someone swears. Someone grunts. Something cracks.
Everything is happening faster than my eyes can track, but the man who grabbed my arm is on the ground now and his eyes look lifeless.
Oh my God! Is he dead?!
My heart hammers so hard in my chest that it hurts.
But it feels like someone puts life in slow motion when Rook turns toward me. His eyes find mine, and the urgency and command in his voice are undeniable.
“Kylie,” he says. “We have to go.”
“Who? What is—?”
“Now, Kylie!” he shouts, and his tone slices through me. “We have to go now.”
But I’m frozen in place. My head bobs back and forth, my mind a disoriented swirl of fragmented thoughts. “Rook, I—”
“I’m sorry, Ky,” Rook says in apology as he gets even closer, my feet now treading backward toward the garage. “Really, I am.”
“Rook…” I beg, both knowing what’s coming and praying I’m wrong. “Please. Don’t.”
He’s on me in less than a second, pinning my arms to my sides and hoisting me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. I open my mouth to scream and do it loudly. “Rook, no! Put me down!” I gasp, kicking instinctively.
He doesn’t.
He carries me across the driveway and toward their Suburban idling at the curb. Kane is already at the driver’s side, yanking the back door open.
“Rook!” I fight harder, pure terror taking over. “What are you doing?”
His jaw is locked so tight it trembles. “Saving your life.”
“By kidnapping me?!”
“You can hate me later,” he snaps. “Right now, you’re breathing.”
I open my mouth to scream at the top of my lungs, but Cal is there already, holding a hand over my mouth while Kane keeps hold of my legs.
I scratch and fight as hard as I can to no avail as the three brothers carry me to their Suburban. I swear, even if I’d have been able to get a scream out through Cal’s hand, it wouldn’t have been loud enough to wake anyone.
Rook shoves me into the back seat. It’s neither gentle nor cruel, but efficient.
Calloway hops into the front passenger seat, slamming the door, and Kane peels out so fast my head snaps back against the seat.
The locks click automatically.
The world outside blurs.
I twist, trying to look back through the rear window.
The black SUV. My house. The men.
Did they kill all of them?!
But it’s gone behind a curve of forest and houses before I can make sense of what just happened. Before I can even know if those men are alive or if they're dead or if they’re currently in the Escalade following us.
Terror grips me, as the very worst-case scenario in every woman’s mind grabs me by the tits and drags me to the deep end of its waters.
There were three men I didn’t know trying to force me to go with them to an undisclosed location for completely undisclosed reasons, and I’m pretty sure at least one of them is dead in my driveway.
And now, the Slater brothers—whom I do know—have successfully managed to take me. Against my will.
I’m being kidnapped. Actually fucking taken like some sort of Liam Neeson bullshit without my own Liam to find me. I thought I knew the Slater brothers—Alyssa thought they were harmless.
Turns out we were both really fucking wrong.
Turns out there are a hell of a lot of men in this freaking town we need to be very, very afraid of.
The doors are locked, and the handle doesn’t budge as I fight and claw to try to open it. As Kane drives us to an unknown destination, I start begging.
I know this is bad, but maybe, just maybe, I can reason with them before things really get out of hand.
“Guys, guys, please. You don’t need to do this. Please just take me to a police station or something. Or better yet, take me to my gammy’s. I won’t even go to the cops! I won’t tell anyone what happened or what you did to those guys, and we can all just go on with our lives, okay?”
“Ky, relax,” Rook coaches, his voice as soft as I’ve ever heard it, which, quite frankly, pisses me right the hell off.
“Relax? Relax? I’m pretty sure one of those men back there is dead, and you and your band of brothers just fucking kidnapped me, Rook! If you want me to relax, do relaxing things…how about that?”
“She’s funny,” Kane remarks from the driver’s seat, and without thinking, I throw my arm forward to punch him in the neck.
When he catches my fist with ease—sight unseen—my eyes widen to the edges of my face. Scooting back gently, I press myself into the leather of the seat and gulp.
“What the hell is going on here? Who were those men? And why, why, why are you guys doing this?” I question through heaving breaths.
My hands shake uncontrollably as my mind spins from trying to understand what is safe and what is to be feared.
My hands shake uncontrollably and I shove at the door handle again, but of course, it doesn’t budge.
Tears prick my eyes. Fuck!
Rook is beside me, one arm braced across the seat like a barrier, not touching me, but close enough that I can feel heat radiating off him.
My eyes are wild as I look at him, and I reach out to shove him in the chest. But his chest might as well be made of fucking stone for as much good as it does. “Tell me what’s going on!” I demand, voice cracking. “Right now!”
His gaze flicks to my face, then away again. Like looking at me hurts.
“Kylie,” he says, low. “I’m sorry.”
That makes my stomach turn colder.
“Sorry doesn’t cover this,” I whisper. “Those men…who were they?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Rook.” My voice breaks. “Who were they?”
His hand flexes once on his knee like he’s trying to stay restrained, like he’s trying to keep himself contained. “I can’t explain it now.”
“Pretty sure now is the perfect fucking time to explain it!” I scream. “There’s no better time than right fucking now!”
“I’m sorry, Kylie. Not right now. We have to get somewhere safe first.”
“Safe?” My laugh is maniacal. “Nothing about anything that’s happening right now feels safe, Rook! Nothing feels safe!”
More tears prick my eyes when Rook doesn’t respond.
Why won’t he tell me what’s going on?
Because he doesn’t trust me? Because he thinks I’ll scream? Because he’s insane? Or because what he’s about to say is worse than the part where three men tried to take me out of my own house?
I swallow hard. “Stop the car. Let me out.”
His jaw clenches. “I can’t.”
“You can,” I hiss. “Your brother is driving the car.”
“I can’t,” he repeats, and I hear something final in it that makes my breath catch.
I stare at him, shaking, then glance toward the front seat where Kane’s hands are steady on the wheel and Calloway’s eyes are scanning the road like he expects company.
I don’t know what I just got pulled out of. I don’t know what those men in my driveway were trying to do to me. I only know I’m trapped in a car with three men I thought were just…guys.
And I don’t know who I’m more afraid of.