Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Phoebe
A ll I really wanted to do was close my door and pretend that none of this had happened. Only I didn’t think I was going to have a choice, not when my family wouldn’t leave me alone. I mean, I loved my family. I truly did. They were kind, generous, and always took care of me. Even if that meant they were overbearing to the point that they made me want to rip my hair out.
Case in point, I hadn’t been shot. If anything, I had probably been in the way and was the reason Kane got hurt, more than he would have if I hadn’t been there.
I hadn’t been admitted to the hospital, and I hadn’t even needed to go to the ER. But Kane and the others wouldn’t consider anything else. So I had gone with him to the ER, and then hadn’t been able to see him. Not only had my family pretty much forbidden it, Kane hadn’t come to me.
I didn’t know why that hurt me. We weren’t together anymore, we both made sure of that. He wasn’t mine to check on, nor was I his. I should just get that in my brain and forget that anything had happened. But I couldn’t. I wanted to know more. I wanted to make sure he was safe. That he was being taken care of.
Who was going to tuck him in and make sure that he actually rested?
I had a few cuts and scrapes, my palms taking the brunt of it when I fell because Kane pushed me out of the way of a damn bullet. But I wasn’t the one who’d been shot at. Not technically. He had, and had bled on me. And I hadn’t been sure how to help him until Kingston arrived and told me what to do.
I hated feeling inept and like I wasn’t smart enough to handle things on my own.
But that wasn’t in my wheelhouse. This was in their wheelhouse. They dealt with things like this often. Kane put himself in danger and there was nothing I could do about it. There hadn’t been anything I could do about it when we were together, and there sure as hell wasn’t anything now that we were separated.
Annoyed with myself for my train of thought, I glared at my older sister.
I loved Isabella. She had shoulder-length dark hair with my eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a no-nonsense attitude that meant that she could get what she wanted out of anyone most days.
She’d had to.
She was the eldest of us and took that responsibility seriously.
Considering our father was rarely in our lives, she had been the one to take care of us.
Our mother mothered just as much as Isabella did. But with Dad constantly on work trips, and the two of them never actually married, Isabella had taken the bulk of the responsibility.
It didn’t matter that I had two other older sisters and an older brother, Isabella had always taken the role of protector.
Our father sure as hell wouldn’t have done it. No, he and my mother had loved each other, according to our mother, and had always done their best to make sure that we weren’t caught in the middle of their dramatic love affair.
I was pretty sure my mom still loved my father, even though he was rarely around. He always showed up with huge promises, giant presents, and then left as if he had never been there, though the scars of his manic happiness always left evidence.
My mother loved him, even though he was a wild-child with a life of his own.
I hated that I was even thinking about him right now.
I wasn’t sure if Isabella had called Dad to tell him that I was hurt.
I sure as hell hoped not.
“Isabella, I’m fine. Go annoy someone else.”
My eldest sister scowled at me. “You’re lucky I don’t tuck you in so tightly that you’re unable to move, missy. Why were you at the Montgomerys? What on earth do you need from your ex?”
“Stop badgering her,” Sophia, the second oldest of us, said as she came forward, a tray in hand.
“I’m not badgering, I’m asking.”
“More like interrogating,” Kyler grumbled as he walked into my bedroom and flopped into the armchair in the corner. More like draped himself. He somehow made it look effortless, his hair falling over his forehead in a dramatic way, and I just rolled my eyes at him.
Kyler was an “artist”—he had the temperament of an artist sometimes. But the way he had one leg propped up over the arm of the chair, and his beautifully sculpted cheekbones resting on his fist, he looked like he was ready for a cover shoot for Rolling Stone.
And yet, he would fight to the end of the earth for his siblings, and both of our parents. Because for some reason he and Dad still got along. I’m not quite sure why.
“I know Emily is out of town, but why are you guys all here?” I asked. I let Sophia settle me against the headboard with fluffy pillows behind me. I looked down at the tea and toast in front of me, with perfect marmalade jam, and narrowed my gaze at my beautiful sister.
Sophia was tall and elegant, a former principal dancer for the Denver Ballet. She had retired a year ago, not because she couldn’t out dance anyone there, but because she wanted to start a new phase of life while she could still enjoy it. Now she was a dance teacher and working on starting her own dance studio. I couldn’t sometimes believe that my elegant and beautiful sister, who had put her body through the wringer in order to become a principal dancer, was somehow related to me. I was far shorter, far rounder, and had significantly worse coordination and balance.
As was evidenced by the fact that they had put me in bed immediately, as if I were a Victorian child with a cough, when all I had done was fall.
“Seriously, why were you there?” Isabella asked, and I ran my hand over my face.
I wasn’t going to tell them. They didn’t have a right to know. No, that was a lie, they had every right to know, but I couldn’t let them know. Not when I knew as soon as I said the words, I would worry them to the point that the current mothering and hovering was going to pale in comparison to how they would act if they knew. I needed to talk to someone who actually knew what they were doing, hence why I needed to talk to Kane. Only I wasn’t sure how to get to him if he wasn’t going to let me see him.
I needed to stop acting so irrational when it came to him. But that was always my problem.
“It doesn’t matter why I was there. It’s Kane. I don’t know why it’s any of your business.” I didn’t mean to sound so rude, and from the way that my siblings looked at me, they knew it was out of character.
“I’m sure you feel that way, as you tell us that often.” Isabella’s tone turned icy, and I winced.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Sophia said as she patted my cheek. “You’re hurt, and you’re grouchy. And Isabella is grouchier.”
“Just like a cat when someone steps on its tail,” Kyler grumbled while Isabella scowled. I flipped him off. He smiled that beautiful smile of his, the one that made every single person around us fall at his feet since we were toddlers. “There she is. My loving sister.”
“I’m really okay. I’m not even hurt.”
“You were in the hospital ,” Isabella added.
“Because it was an overreaction. Kane was the one that was hurt.” I swallowed hard, the sight of his blood still unnerving me.
“That’s why you shouldn’t be with him anymore. He works a dangerous job and you got hurt because of it.”
I ignored the guilt because I wasn’t sure that was true. I’d gone to him for a reason. “He protects people.”
“He didn’t protect you,” Isabella snapped. We butted heads more often than not because Isabella wanted to keep me safe—just like she did the rest of the family. And she got angry when she didn’t have control over a situation.
Sophia stood between us, arms outstretched. “Stop it. Isabella, you liked Kane, don’t act like you suddenly hate him. He does good work, and he did the security for this apartment and your house. Why are you acting like this?”
“Yes, why are you?” another voice said as my roommate and best friend walked in. “Thank you all for letting me know that my best friend and roommate was hurt, by the way,” Claire grumbled.
“Damn it, I’m sorry,” Isabella said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’re gearing up for tax season, and I fucked up. My brain’s doing too many things.”
Claire reached out and gave Isabella a one-armed hug.
“It’s okay. But seriously, next time that my best friend gets shot at, maybe let me know.”
“I’m fine. Have you heard from Kane?” I asked.
Claire shook her head. “No, I only heard because Kingston mentioned it.”
I raised a brow and she waved me off. “Group chat. You’re part of it too, so I’m sure you got the text.”
I glared at Kyler, who had the grace to look a little embarrassed as he pulled my phone out of his pocket. “I didn’t read any of the texts. I was just making sure you got some rest.”
“How is all of you in here hovering over me when I’m not even hurt helping me rest?” I asked as I put my hand out for my phone.
He slid off the armchair in a smooth and fluid move, one that I saw Claire notice. Claire had always had a crush on Kyler, not that she would do anything about it, and I’m pretty sure Kyler would never do anything about it either. Or maybe they had and they weren’t going to tell me. It didn’t matter though because I had a feeling Claire was meant for someone else. Of course, my thoughts on that meant nothing because I thought I was meant for Kane, but here we were.
“Thank you for my phone, now everybody get out. You’ve fed me, overprotected me, and now I’m in bed when I’m really fine. I could run a mile right now.”
Claire blinked at me.
“Okay, I could walk a mile very quickly,” I corrected, and all three of my siblings laughed.
“We’ll leave you be, and I’ll update Emily too,” Sophia said as she tugged Kyler and Isabella out of the room.
“Be safe, lock the doors, and give us any updates you have from the authorities, okay?” she added, and then put her hand over Isabella’s mouth as she literally dragged my eldest sister out. Kyler laughed, closing the door behind him, leaving Claire and me alone.
“So, you really okay?” Claire asked, and I heard the honest worry underneath her tone.
I nodded, rubbing a hand over my chest.
“I’m fine. Really. Kane’s the one who got hurt.”
“Do you want me to ask Kingston if he’s okay?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine.”
“That sounded like a lie,” she grumbled.
“I know you have work to do, so go do it and I’ll just sit here and wallow in my own self-pity.”
“Why were you there, Phoebe?”
“No reason,” I lied. I needed to tell her. She deserved to know because she could be in danger too. I hated keeping secrets from my best friend and from my family. But maybe I was just overreacting. That’s why I needed to talk to Kane. Why I had been there in the first place. And yet it all felt as if it was too much.
“I’d like to know why you were there too,” a deep voice said from the now open door. I hadn’t even realized the door had opened at all, and from the way Claire gasped and whirled, I realized she hadn’t either.
“You scared the hell out of me,” she snapped before her shoulders relaxed.
I did the same, my heart aching. He had a sling on his arm and looked so pale. He had been shot in front of me, and now here he was, standing in my room as if he were fine, while I was lying down like an invalid.
“What are you doing out of the hospital?” I blurted.
“I’m fine. Seriously. I’m fucking fine,” he grumbled as he slid the sling off his arm. I didn’t miss the wince that he tried to hide as he tossed the sling down to the armchair.
Claire looked between us and held up her hands.
“You know, I don’t need to be a part of this. But I will get details later, okay? Because you’re hiding something, and you don’t hide things from your best friend,” Claire said as she glared at me, then looked up at Kane. “Don’t hurt her.”
Kane’s eyes darkened at the warning, but he nodded briskly. “I don’t have any plans to.”
“We never do,” she whispered before she left the room, closing the door behind her. I knew it was the strength of her character that allowed her to leave with so much curiosity in her gaze. I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to do the same if the shoe were on the other foot.
Alarm shot through me as I put the tray to the side and scrambled out of bed.
“Get back in bed.”
“No, you should. You’re the one who needs to be in bed.”
He raised a brow. “You’re asking me to your bed?”
I let out a small growl, throwing my hands up in the air. “Are you serious right now?”
He sighed and ran his hand over his face, wincing as it jostled his shoulder.
“I’m fine. It was a graze, and I have stitches. I hate the sling. It hurts my neck more than anything.”
“Let’s just sit down then. You got shot tonight.”
“And you got thrown to the ground.”
“I just have a few cuts on my hands. See.” I held up my hands, and I realized it was the wrong thing to do when his eyes darkened.
“You got hurt because of me,” he growled, his voice low and pained.
I moved forward before I even realized I was doing it. I put my hand on his chest, ignoring the slight sting from the cuts. I could feel his heartbeat underneath my palms, that familiar rhythm that always helped me sleep. Because I had known he was there. Always.
Of course, that had been one of the problems.
“You got hurt because of me,” he whispered again, his gaze on mine.
I swallowed. “No, it could have been because of me.” There, I said the words; I broached the subject. Because there was a reason I had gone to his place. I had needed help.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, his whole body stiffening.
I’d made a mistake. More than one. I shouldn’t have gone to him for this. I should have gone to Kingston, or anyone else. Another company for that matter. Maybe I was just overreacting, and I hadn’t needed anyone at all, but I shouldn’t have gone to Kane. All it did was bring back old hurts.
“Never mind,” I whispered and turned away. He reached out and gripped my wrists before I could get very far.
“Phoebe, what the hell?”
“It’s fine. It’s really fine.”
“No, it’s not. The shooter was someone after our team. Someone that hurt Daisy and Kingston.”
My eyes widened, remembering when they were hurt.
“Are they okay? Oh my God, did they get hurt again?”
Kane swallowed hard. “Everyone’s fine. Or they will be. But do you remember Tim Sherman?”
I nodded. “He owned that security company that was your rival.”
“‘Was’ being the operative word. Most of what’s left of the company are in jail or having their business being dismantled. It’s a whole shit show. But Tim is still out there. And he has a grudge.”
I licked my lips, fear pulsing through me. “And he wants to hurt you? Who protects you?”
His lips twitched. “My family does. And I’m decent at doing it myself. At least when my head’s on right.”
“Then you should go. And make sure you’re safe, I’ll talk to someone else.”
His eyes narrowed. “Wrong thing to say, sweet.”
“Kane.”
“Talk to me.”
“I think I have a stalker,” I blurted.
He blinked and then his jaw set, his hand fisting at his sides. “What?”
“I might be wrong. But I’ve gotten a few letters and a few phone calls where all I can hear is breathing on the line. And I can’t figure out who is calling because they’re from blocked numbers. I thought it was just spam at first, but now I don’t know. It’s just weird, and sometimes I feel like someone’s watching me. Maybe I’m overreacting, and watching too many thriller movies and listening to those podcasts to get me to sleep at night.”
“You still listen to those?”
“I like true crime stories where they talk peacefully and respectfully about the victim and their families, and when the families are involved. I can’t help it.”
“Tell me everything.”
I shook my head. “No. I’ll talk to someone else. I just realized that this is a horrible mistake.”
Because I couldn’t be the reason he got hurt again. And I wasn’t sure I could even be in the same room with him. Not that I hated him. No, it was the exact opposite.
He was suddenly in my space, a hand on my waist. He always did that to keep me steady. Either that or cupped my cheek. He was always touching me, protecting me.
“Phoebe. What the hell?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m overreacting.”
He shook his head. “You don’t overreact to things like that. Tell me everything.”
I laid out the letters and described the phone calls. When I moved away to go to my desk, he glared at me. “I’m just getting to my journal. I made a note about the dates and details so I would remember. I thought I was losing my mind and overreacting.”
When he looked through the list, his eyes went stormy and he glared at me. “There are seven calls on here, Phoebe.”
“And they could have been spam. Maybe a telemarketer.”
“You obviously didn’t think so if you made a list.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Did you go to the authorities?”
I shook my head. “What are they going to do? Tell me that I’m crazy?”
“Then you’ll have a paper trail.”
I winced. “But there’s no evidence.”
“You have notes.”
“That aren’t addressed to me and were delivered to my place of business. They could be for anyone.”
And that was the problem. It sounded as if I was overreacting. I watched too many scary movies and had dated a man who helped protect people. I was probably more paranoid than most.
“Okay. We’re going to figure it out. And I’m not leaving your side.”
That was the exact opposite thing I needed him to say. Because while my heart leapt at the thought, my brain knew I needed to take a few steps back. Full stop and run away.
“I need someone else. It can’t be you. I can pay, I promise. But it has to be someone else. For obvious reasons.”
“You’re not fucking paying, and no, you’re getting me. I’m going to protect you.”
And with that promise, I knew my fate had been sealed. Now Kane knew and there would be no getting away from this.
He was already hurt, and I could still feel his blood on my skin.
I refused to go through that again.