Chapter 40 Gable
Gable
The only sound that follows the doorbell is Motor barking.
My heart is beating so damn fast it’s like a drum in my brain, my blood rushing as I stare at Ella on the coffee table, legs bare, face pale and covered in blood.
The cuffs are biting into my skin, but the pipe I’m chained to hasn’t budged an inch. I’m on my knees, my muscles burning from trying to free myself. But I’m fucking stuck in place.
My gaze darts from Ella to the door.
The doorbell rings again.
Ty stands, his belt still unbuckled. The belt I’ll fucking kill him with.
“Well, answer it,” he snaps at one of his men.
The man nods and goes to the door, opening it. I can’t see who is on the other side, but I hear a woman’s voice, one familiar and sweet.
“Hello! I’m so sorry to bother you. I think I’m totally lost.”
Who is that?
I look at Ella. Color is returning to her cheeks as we lock eyes.
Her gaze darts to the carpet. To the knife. Then back at me.
I want to shake my head. Tell her no. She can’t fight Ty, certainly can’t fight all these men, but I can’t expect her to lie there and do nothing.
“I’m busy.” The man goes to shut the door, but the woman must wedge her foot there, because it doesn’t close.
“I really am sorry to be a bother, but would you really leave a woman out here all alone?” she asks. “Maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Silence Silver.”
Silence.
Z’s wife. He’s here.
My eyes lock with Ella’s just as the back windows explode. Weapons are drawn. Shots are fired. I call out Ella’s name as she rolls onto the floor and people continue firing, but she doesn’t stop moving. She crawls over to me.
“Are you okay?”
She nods, but her hands are trembling as she cups my face. “I’ll be fine. We need to get you out of these.”
Our attention is drawn to the front door—where Z has entered.
He’s in jeans and a gray Harvard sweatshirt, a college that motherfucker did not go to, and he’s holding a gun.
Clinging to the back of him, cheek pressed against his sweatshirt, is Silence.
She looks the same as when I saw her five years ago.
Her blonde hair is long, tied in a high pony, and her freckled cheeks are flushed.
As the commotion continues, Z strides over to me, Silence in tow.
“How did you know?” I ask.
“Hunter sent out an alert.” He examines the cuffs and pulls out a small, leather wallet. Inside are a number of silver devices for lock picking, and he gets to work on the cuffs. “Nice to see you again, Ella.”
She nods, face pale. “Never thought I’d be happy to see you.”
He grins. “I bet.”
The cuffs come free and I wrap my arms around Ella. We stand, and she remains close, her ear resting against my chest, just as the gunfire stops. The sudden silence is jarring, and my ears are still ringing when someone calls out the all clear.
The living room is filled with bodies and Z’s men. Blood soaks into the wooden floor, decorates the walls and mirrors, and bullets litter the room.
“How did you get here so fast?” I ask.
“I liked the look of the city when we came up here last time,” Z says. “So, I thought I’d bring Silence on vacation. Thanks for ruining my weekend.”
Silence folds her arms. “You weren’t going to get laid anyway, you piece of shit.”
He groans. “Come on, Silence—”
“Fuck you, you fucking liar.” She prods his chest aggressively, blue eyes filled with fire. “Freelance computing, my fucking ass!”
He stole my fake job.
“I couldn’t tell you, baby—”
She puts her hand in his face. “Do not speak to me.”
I kiss Ella’s head, holding her as close as possible, feeling her frantic heartbeat against me. She’s breathing fast, and I tilt her face up. Her lip is swollen, and the cut across her cheek looks equally painful.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I whisper, gently cupping her neck.
She tries to smile, but it’s weak. “It isn’t your fault. You kept me safe for as long as you could.”
Not long enough. As the bodies are moved, I keep Ella pressed to my front, and Z tries desperately to speak to Silence. She continues to ignore him, before finally addressing Ella.
“I’m Silence, by the way. His wife.” She throws her thumb in Z’s direction. “Do you have a first aid kit? I’m a nurse; I can look at that cut, if you like?”
Ella nods, glancing up at me before limping away with Silence to sit on the couch.
Z watches his wife with a tortured expression.
“I’m guessing she knows what you do now,” I say.
Z groans. “I’ll be lucky if she speaks to me again.”
“You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t kill you,” I say, watching Ella. She winces as Silence inspects her thigh, and a fresh burst of anger erupts within me. As Z checks in with his men, I walk through the remaining bodies, turning them over one by one until I find Ty.
Alive.
Barely, but still breathing. “Lucky fucking me,” I say, gripping his shirt and yanking him to his feet.
I chuck him into Ella’s writing chair and he gasps, his hand pressed to a wound in his stomach that’s gushing blood.
His face is shining with sweat, and he rests his head back to look at me.
I reach for his belt, yanking it free from the loops.
“You wanna know why you know me, and I don’t know you?” I ask as I fasten it around his neck. He winces as I tighten it. “Because you’re a fucking amateur. Pricks like you are lucky to crawl in my fucking shadow.” I pull, and his face reddens as he tries and fails to pull in air.
He hurt Ella.
He tried to rape Ella.
He deserves this, and so much more.
But Ella is also watching, and she doesn’t need to see more death.
I relax the belt. “Who hired you?”
Ty pulls in a ragged breath and laughs. “He’ll hunt you both down. He won’t stop.”
“Who?” I tighten the belt and he chokes, his eyes bulging until I loosen it again.
A deep breath, but slower than the last.
He stares at me with half-lidded eyes. “You … you have no idea how entirely fucked you are, Flynn.” He laughs again, a rattling, painful sound. His breaths slow.
Until they stop entirely.
Ty’s face becomes expressionless, his eyes vacant.
I release the belt and step back.
I’m not accustomed to feeling fear. I’ve only ever experienced it on the few occasions I worried about Asher, and recently, with Ella. But right now, it’s coursing through my veins.
We came so close to dying.
For what? Revenge?
I reach into Ty’s pocket and take out the hard drive. It’s so small, so seemingly harmless, but it’s almost taken everything from me.
I head for the stairs. “Ella, I’m packing your things. Be in the car in ten.”
“Wait,” she says, and I face her. “Where are we going?”
The only place left that’s safe.
“Home.”
Ella is asleep in the back seat with Motor, her leg bandaged under clean pajamas, her cheek stitched up. I didn’t have any pain relief, but a few glasses of whiskey had her sleepy enough to doze off, and I’m sure Hunter will have something stronger.
The men Z hired for tonight will clear up the mess at the cabin, so that’s one less thing to think about, but I still have an endless list of worries.
Ella being number one.
After I finished packing, she clung to me while Silence treated her, held my hand while her cheek got stitched, and hovered close by as I loaded up the car. But she didn’t talk.
I want her close to me. As far as I’m concerned, I never want her out of my sight ever again, but I need her to talk to me about what happened. I know more than anyone how deep trauma can bury itself if you push everyone away. Especially when it comes to something like this.
It takes two hours to reach Hunter’s home.
My home from when I was eighteen. The huge estate is on the shores of Lake Washington, hedged in by woodland, the back leading onto the pebbled, private beach.
Asher always preferred the pool, but I loved the lake.
It felt more primal to swim in natural waters, and sometimes I’d spend hours staring out at the water, wondering how my life changed so drastically in the course of one night.
We stop at the secure gate, and the security guard, TJ, recognizes me immediately. He welcomes me back and allows us through, and I drive up the long path that leads to home.
The first time I came here, I thought it was a joke.
There was no way I knew anyone who lived in a place like this, and even if I did, they’d never let a fuck-up like me move in.
But Hunter did own this place, and Asher and I did move in with him.
A year into us staying here, Hunter adopted us both officially, but even then, none of it felt real.
We pull up to the marble steps and Hunter is waiting for us with the housekeeper, Bastian.
Bastian is in his mid-sixties and has worked for Hunter for as long as I’ve known him.
He’s a good guy, and I know he has a past with the DeLucas, which is why Hunter trusts him.
His gray hair is brushed back, neat as always, and he’s in a suit and tie, despite it being late.
I get out and open the back door. Crouching, I watch Ella for a moment before speaking.
“Gibson, we’re here.”
She opens her eyes, and when she sighs, I can still smell the whiskey on her breath. It makes me want to kiss her, but I resist. I don’t want to touch her, not unless she makes the first move. Not after Ty.
She rubs her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Nearly midnight.”
She nods before getting out. To my relief, she takes my hand, and as we walk up the steps, Hunter’s attention is focused entirely on where we’re connected.
He doesn’t know about us.
If there even is an “us.”
“Hi, Ella.” Hunter tucks his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry we’re meeting again like this.”
She forces a smile. “Maybe one day we’ll chat under normal circumstances.”
“I hope so.” He looks at our hands again, then at me. “You okay, kid?”
“Fine. Hey, Bastian. Ella, this is Bastian. He makes sure we don’t burn the place down.”
Bastian smiles warmly. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Gibson. I’ve got the guest room all made up for you.”