Chapter 9
9
KEELY
K eely had started to believe, for a few fleeting moments, that they might have bought themselves some breathing room. It had been almost a week since Jesse had dragged her out to the middle of nowhere, and despite her frustration at being caged, she couldn’t deny that the isolation brought a strange kind of calm.
No phone calls. No emails. No looking over her shoulder, reminding her she had a price on her head. It was the first time she’d felt remotely safe since she’d found those diamonds.
Then something ripped it away in the space of a few moments. It started with the sight of dust coming up the long drive, heading straight for them. Keely had been in the kitchen, stirring sugar into her coffee, looking out the window when she saw them—not Jesse’s truck. Not someone who belonged here. No one belonged here but her and Jesse.
She moved from the kitchen window to the front, setting the mug down, careful to stay out of sight. Dust kicked up as three SUVs rolled down the driveway—too fast, too controlled. The lead vehicle slowed first, stopping about fifty yards from the house. Then the doors opened.
Her pulse spiked. They’d been found. Jesse was outside, near the barn, running through drills on a makeshift target range, armed only with a paintball gun.
Keely didn’t think—she moved. She grabbed Jesse’s Glock from the kitchen counter, the one he never left far from reach, and sprinted for the door. She didn’t get two steps before gunfire erupted. The first bullet shattered the kitchen window, glass spraying the floor behind her. Keely ducked low, clutching the gun as she forced herself to breathe, to think.
Jesse. She needed to get to Jesse.
Her heart pounded as she slid toward the back of the house, dropping to her knees and crawling. She couldn’t afford to be seen. More gunfire ripped through the air, the deep, brutal sound of automatic weapons cutting through the quiet Texas morning.
Then—Jesse’s voice.
“Keely! Stay down!”
She didn’t listen. Not when he was out there alone. She reached the back door and eased it open just enough to see Jesse crouched behind the small outbuilding where he kept the ATV and other essential equipment. He’d exchanged his paintball gun for a rifle and his expression was deadly.
He looked up, catching sight of her, his entire body tightening. “Get back inside!”
Keely ignored him, her grip on the pistol firm. “Not a chance.”
“Goddamn it...”
Another round of bullets cut off his curse. Jesse swung out from behind the small building, firing three precise shots, dropping two of the men before they could make it to the house.
Keely moved, sprinting low across the back porch, heading straight for Jesse. She slid in behind him, breathing hard, her fingers wrapped too tightly around the pistol.
Jesse grabbed her by the waist, yanking her flush against him. “I told you to stay inside.”
Keely’s breath caught, but she fought past the heat curling low in her belly. Not the time.
“You seem to have forgotten. I don’t take orders well,” she said, forcing a calm she didn’t feel.
Jesse’s jaw clenched, but before he could say something infuriating, another round of gunfire split the silence, hitting the building and the dirt beside it.
He pushed her down behind him, moving to a new vantage point. “You see how many?”
Keely peeked over his shoulder, her hands shockingly steady. “Five. Maybe six. Moving toward the porch.”
Jesse muttered something low and deadly, then adjusted his grip on his rifle. “Keep your head down. Only shoot if you have to.”
Keely bristled. “I’m not a damn damsel in distress, Jesse.”
His eyes burned as they flicked to hers. “Then don’t get yourself killed.”
Keely swallowed hard. They fought side by side, moving in perfect, unspoken sync, like they’d done this a hundred times before. Maybe all that time they’d spent having sex in the past few days had been good for more than just making her feel good.
Jesse took out another man as he tried to flank the barn, his rifle kicking back against his shoulder.
Keely spotted movement from the corner of her eye—another figure darting toward them, gun raised. She didn’t hesitate. She fired, the pistol jerking in her grip as the man collapsed to the ground, unmoving.
Jesse glanced at her, his gaze flicking to the body, then back to her face. Approval. Pride. Something else. But before he could say anything, the last two shooters appeared.
Keely saw the flash of metal as Jesse took out one assassin—one left. The glint from the sun off another gun barrel being raised caught her attention. Her breath froze in her lungs. Jesse moved—he must have seen it too. One second, he was standing beside her, the next he was shoving her out of the way, turning his body toward the bullet meant for her.
A sickening, brutal sound filled the air. Jesse stumbled back, gripping his side, blood seeping through his shirt. Keely’s vision narrowed to red. She raised her gun and fired. The last shooter dropped, dead before he hit the ground.
Keely was on her knees, hands shaking as she reached for Jesse. “No, no, no—stay with me,” she whispered, pressing her hands against his side, trying to stop the bleeding.
Jesse let out a ragged breath, his face pale, but his eyes were still sharp, still focused. “I’m fine,” he muttered, but his body disagreed.
Keely’s heart slammed against her ribs. “You’re not fine, Jesse. We need to get you inside.”
He let out a rough breath, then grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Keely froze. His fingers were wet with blood, but his grip was steady, his gaze burning into hers.
“Keely,” he rasped, voice frayed. “You listen to me. Right now. No more games.”
Keely’s throat closed, her fingers pressing harder against his wound. “I’m not leaving you,” she whispered.
Jesse eyes softened, his grip softening just a fraction. “I know.”
His eyes flickered, his body swaying slightly, and Keely’s heart lurched. Panic rushed through her, but she shoved it down. She needed to get him inside. Now.
“Come on,” she breathed, looping an arm around him, forcing his much larger body to move.
Jesse gritted his teeth but didn’t fight her. Together, they stumbled toward the house, blood dripping into the dirt, the scent of gunpowder thick in the morning air. Keely’s hands shook, but she refused to stop. Because Jesse had just taken a bullet for her, and she wasn’t about to let him die for it.
Keely had never known fear like this.
Her heart slammed against her ribs, her breath coming too fast as she dragged Jesse inside, his body solid and unmoving against her. Blood soaked through his shirt, warm and sticky against her fingers, but he kept himself upright, jaw locked, determined to make it to the couch without collapsing.
“You’re an idiot,” she bit out, maneuvering him onto the cushions, grabbing one of the throw pillows and shoving it behind his back. “A goddamn reckless idiot.”
Jesse let out a rough chuckle, wincing as he tried to shift. “If this is what getting shot gets me, remind me not to do it again.”
Keely’s vision blurred for a second, a rush of panic and fury colliding in her chest. She had almost lost him because he’d stepped in front of a bullet meant for her, like it was nothing.
She ripped his shirt up, her hands shaking as she assessed the wound—a deep graze along his side, bleeding too much, but not deep enough to kill him. Jesse watched her, his breathing uneven, but his eyes sharp.
“You going to patch me up, or just keep ogling me?”
Keely’s hands clenched, her nails biting into her palms. He was grinning at her, bleeding out on his couch, and acting like this was just any other day of the week. She had never wanted to shake someone more in her life… or kiss them.
She shoved the thought down and grabbed the first-aid kit from the kitchen, slamming it down on the table beside him. “Shut up and hold still.”
Jesse obeyed, letting her clean the wound, his muscles flexing beneath her touch as she pressed gauze against the torn flesh. Her pulse wasn’t steady anymore. Her hands weren’t, either. The moment she had seen him fall, everything had changed.
“You can’t do that again,” she whispered, not looking at him.
Jesse let out a slow breath. “Keely...”
“I mean it,” she snapped, finally looking up, her throat tight, her chest burning. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to throw yourself in front of me like your life doesn’t matter.”
Jesse’s gaze darkened, his jaw ticking. “It mattered enough to keep you breathing.”
Something inside her snapped. Without thinking, without caring, she grabbed his face and kissed him. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was unfiltered, desperate, and all-consuming. Jesse groaned against her mouth, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her onto his lap before she could stop him. Keely’s fingers tangled in his hair, her body pressed flush against his, her need for him a wildfire she couldn’t contain anymore.
He was alive, and she needed to feel every inch of him, needed to remind herself that he was still here, still breathing, still Jesse.
Jesse pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, his breath ragged. “Keely…”
“Don’t you dare tell me this was a mistake,” she whispered, voice shaking.
His grip tightened, his fingers digging into her hips, holding her there like he wasn’t ready to let go. Then, quietly, like it was the hardest damn thing he’d ever admitted, he rasped, “I’m falling for you.”
Keely went still. Her heart stopped, then restarted, slamming against her ribs. Jesse’s gaze was burning, his walls shattered, and for the first time since she had met him, she saw everything he had been holding back.
She swallowed hard. “Say it again.”
Jesse pressed his lips softly against hers, just once, before pulling back. Reality crashed back in. The dead men outside. The bullet wound he’d taken for her. They knew Nico Alvarez wasn’t finished with them yet. The fact that Jesse Bryant was falling for her.
“I’m falling for you,” he repeated. “But we have bigger problems to deal with first.”
“So, you’re saying falling for me is a problem?”
He chuckled before cupping the back of her head, pulling her close, and kissing her hard. When he came up for air, he said, “Call the office. Tell them we’re coming in…”
“We’re going to the hospital…”
“No. They can patch me up there. Tell them we’re coming in, ping them from my phone so they know where the house is, and tell them we’re going to need someone to clean up the bodies.”
“I think we should call 9-1-1 and have them send an ambulance and the cops.”
“Not your call. If you can’t do what you’re told, give me the damn phone and I’ll do it myself.”
Keely inhaled deeply, forcing herself to step back. Jesse was right, and he knew far better than she did how to handle this. She picked up the phone and did as he asked, surprised at how calm her voice sounded. After hanging up, she cleaned and bandaged the wound as best she could.
She helped Jesse out to his truck. Surprisingly, the barrage of bullets hadn’t hit it. He didn’t even protest when she helped him into the passenger side and got behind the wheel. She floored the truck, steering around the bodies and getting them the hell out of there.
This wasn’t over—not any of it.