CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Kye
MY FINGERS DRUMMED THE STEERING WHEEL AS I REPLAYED the conversation with my attorney over and over.
It had a war of emotions playing out in my mind.
On the upside, she felt like between Fallon and me, we had a strong case for adoption.
But one thing stood in our way: the monster who had been picking off members of The Reapers MC one at a time and seemed to have targeted me.
The sooner Trace and the Mercer County Sheriff’s Department could catch this guy, the better. If they didn’t, she said she wasn’t sure any judge would approve adoption. And the girls would be caught in limbo.
Apparently, Renee hadn’t shown up for a few of her motion hearings. My lawyer assured me that it would help speed along the termination of her parental rights. Judges didn’t appreciate parents being no-shows when their children were at risk of being taken away.
Honestly, that was the best gift Renee could give those girls—could give all of us. Simply letting them go. She’d never been a mother to me, and not once had she been one to them. Letting them go would be the most motherly thing she could do.
But I knew it wouldn’t come without pain for my sisters. One day, they’d know she hadn’t bothered to fight for them. She hadn’t shown up for them. I just had to hope the family we were creating would be a balm for that.
Just like I hoped a judge could see just how much I loved my sisters and how I would put my all into giving them the permanent home they deserved.
When that happened, we were taking a trip to a private island. Maybe I’d take the whole Colson crew. We’d go for two weeks, soak up the sun, and celebrate that we were a family. Because by then, we’d damn well have earned it.
Fallon’s ringtone cut through my truck’s speakers, and I hit the answer button on my wheel. “Hey, Sparrow—”
“He tried to kill me—”
My blood turned to ice. “What? Who? Where are you?”
“I—I don’t know who. I don’t know where he is—I … I don’t know where I am—”
Sheer terror shot through me as I pulled to the side of the road and pulled up Fal’s location on my device.
“—I’m driving—I—off Whychus Lane—I—”
“I found you. I’m on my way. Stay on the phone. Do you see him behind you?” I barked.
“N-n-no. I d-d-don’t see him.” Fallon’s teeth chattered violently, making it hard for her to get the words out.
“That’s good, baby. That’s so good. Just keep driving.” I swerved back onto the two-lane road and gunned my engine. I hoped like hell one of Trace’s deputies saw me because I’d lead them straight to Fallon. “You’re gonna see me coming straight for you. Look for my truck.”
“Wh-what i-if h-he g-g-gets me?”
“He’s not gonna get you, Sparrow. I’m the only one who’s getting you, okay? Just me.” I pressed my foot harder against the gas, not giving a damn.
“O-o-okay,” she stammered.
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.” Rage flooded my system, terror battling for supremacy. And then I saw the white SUV.
Fallon was flying down the road at full speed, weaving slightly.
“I see you, Sparrow. I see you. Slow down. Pull over.”
“I’m scared,” she croaked.
“I know. But I’m here. I’ve got you. Like always. Just slow down.”
The speed of the white SUV dwindled, and she jerked it to the side of the road. But I didn’t slow until seconds before I shot across the pavement. My tires squealed as I slammed on my brakes, and then I was out of my truck and running for Fallon.
I tried to jerk her door open, but the locks were engaged. Fallon struggled with the handle for moments that felt like a lifetime. Finally, she managed to open it. She tumbled out into my hold as sirens sounded in the distance. Someone must’ve seen me flying like a bat out of hell.
Sobs racked Fallon’s body as she climbed me like someone trying to board a life raft.
“Are you hurt? Tell me where you’re hurt.”
“N-not hurt,” she struggled to say as the sirens got louder. Closer.
I looked down the road, trying to see if anyone had been following her, but I didn’t see a soul.
I brushed a hand over the side of her face, trying to pull back so I could get a look at her.
That’s when I noticed it. Her skin had gone unnaturally pale, but I saw angry red marks wringing her neck.
Fury lit in my veins, and it took everything in me to shove it down, way down to where the demons lived.
“Sparrow,” I rasped. “Your fucking neck.”
“I-I’m okay.”
There she was, trying to make me feel better, when someone had strangled her—so hard they’d burst blood vessels under her skin.
“You’re not okay,” I snarled.
A door slammed, the closest sirens cutting off. “Kye?”
I turned, still cradling Fallon in my arms. Some part of me recognized Deputy Fletcher as the officer walking toward us, but I could only get out one thing. “Someone just tried to kill my wife.”