CHAPTER ELEVEN #2
I peek around the corner, and I swear my heart is racing so hard, I’m scared they’ll hear it.
The door to Katherine’s office is just up ahead, and it’s open.
I see the stiletto of her shoe near her desk.
Behind her, the floor-to-ceiling window casts bright light into the room.
I’ve only ever been in it a handful of times.
The layout is simple: a few shelves that hold nothing of sentiment or use, a half-moon white sofa, and an oak table that separates it from two cream chairs.
A mini bar is really the only other thing on display.
The door to the right of her leads to a full bathroom, and in there is another door leading to a closest. To the left of her, nearer to the sofa, a door leads to a small kitchenette, and if the rumours are true, she has a personal chef she uses when needed.
By the looks of it, there is someone standing near the bathroom side of the room, which tells me this isn’t work related.
They would be hosted on the half-moon sofa, though only if they were someone she wanted to impress or talk into something.
Others find their meetings held in the conference room.
“Yes, the package was delivered,” a rough voice replies. Leather squeaks as they step into view, and my breath catches in my throat. I clutch my bag in my hand until my knuckles turn white.
Although it was dark the other night, I would recognise that scar anywhere.
Only now, the discoloured scar looks harrowing and makes the man wearing it seem even more dangerous—something he didn’t need help with in the first place.
His dark eyebrows dip down, and I notice the right one has a scar running through it, leaving it bare.
His top lip has another scar running through it, and the skin of his weathered face clearly hasn’t seen skincare.
Despite the humid air, a chill runs over me at seeing the man who only days ago, tried to break into my home.
Reid was right; that break-in did have something to do with Katherine. I knew it was highly possible, but then Malia told me a little about her past and a part of me worried it was something to do with that.
Now I know for certain, which brings me to the realisation I can no longer work here, not even under false pretences.
I can’t risk it, not even for knowledge that would give us the upper hand.
“My associate let me know the Hayes brothers left twenty minutes ago, so the fireworks will go off as planned in thirty minutes,” the rough voice announces.
“I want them to burn. All of them,” the darker voice warns. The cruelty in his tone has me unconsciously taking a step back.
“Consider it already done,” Scar Face replies.
Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.
My heart races at his promise. Before I can hear another word, I take another step back, glancing down at my watch. Thirty minutes.
As quietly as I can in my panic, I creep my way back to the lift, all the while checking I haven’t been seen.
I jab the call button a little too harshly when I reach the lift.
I have to get out of here.
It might take a minute, but it feels like hours when the lift finally arrives.
As the doors close behind me, the name of the street finally registers. It becomes so clear I can practically hear Reid’s voice in my head.
It’s Liam’s home, the guy who is helping with security and erasing my cousins’ past as much as he can.
I glance at the floor numbers as they lower, mumbling, “Come on. Come on.”
What if I don’t make it?
What if they all burn?
Lily will lose Jaxon.
Paisley will lose all her brothers.
The loss will be unbearable for their partners. Their families.
I nearly lose my footing when the doors begin to open. I don’t even register the stench of the underground parking lot. I don’t even feel the heat as I race toward my car.
I have a thirty-five-minute drive to do in twenty-five minutes.
*** *** ***
The palm of my hand has slammed down on the horn so much it stings. I’m surprised I don’t have an entourage of police chasing me with the speed I’ve been going. I’m pretty sure I went past at least two speed cameras and that my tyres will need changing once again since I hit so many kerbs.
I let out a breath when large, two-story houses come into view. I have two minutes before whatever Scar Face has planned happens.
I’m not sure where Liam’s home is, so I keep my hand down on the horn.
Reid had been right; these are the kind of neighbours who would protest to get him kicked out, so I use that to my advantage by causing a lot of noise.
I’ve already seen one woman lifting up her mobile, no doubt to call the police.
Up ahead, parked in the cul-de-sac, sits a Hayes Removal van. One of the triplets jumps down from the back of the van, and I realise my hand is still on the horn.
I break sharply in the middle of the road, panting heavily as I throw open the door.
“Get everyone out of the house. Now,” I scream, racing toward the house with hospital equipment outside. “Get out. Everyone, get out.”
Luke, or Isaac, doesn’t even question me or try to stop me. “Yo, everyone, get out. Now!”
I reach the door and slam into a hard body. I glance up, gripping Jaxon’s biceps. “You need to get everyone out. Now!”
He stares into my eyes, and whatever he sees has him lifting his head. “Lads, move it. Everyone out. You too, Liam,” he orders, pulling me with him when he leaves.
Reid races around the corner, glancing at Jaxon, then to me. “Summer? What’s going on?”
I glance at the house, wondering if I did the right thing. As I glance at my watch, I realise it’s a minute past the time for his plan, but nothing is happening.
Was it here?
Was it even the right house?
“Was a package delivered here?” I whisper.
“No,” a voice replies. I glance up, seeing it was Liam who answered. “What’s going on?”
One of the triplets clears his throat, gaining Liam’s attention. “Luke?”
“Um, there was a parcel,” Luke replies, scratching at the scruff on his jaw. “We saw it in the bush when we arrived so we took it inside thinking you had a lazy delivery driver.”
A hand lands on my shoulder and I jump, startled. “Summer?” Reid says. “What’s going on? What are you doing here? And why are you shaking so hard?”
I open my mouth to answer, but a sharp, loud boom explodes around us seconds before a sudden gush of air knocks me off my feet.
Reid is quick, grabbing me around the waist mid-air.
I expect him to do the same manoeuvre Mark did with Freya when she tripped, and take the brunt of the fall, but he lands on top of me.
I realise quickly he’s protecting me from the debris falling around us, not himself from the fall.
My ears ring with a piercing shrill as smaller cackles boom like a display of fireworks. I grip Reid’s shirt even tighter, a scream tumbling from my throat, but it gets lost in the explosions.
I peek out from under Reid, and my scream halts in my throat as I see the destruction of the once beautiful home in front of me. I’ve never seen a building in such despair before. The structure is already crumbling, the roof no longer there.
Jaxon steps in front of me, blood and soot covering his face. “We. Move,” he yells, or at least I think he’s yelling. I can barely hear over the noise and the ringing in my ears.
“Reid,” I whisper, realising I can’t move until he gets off. When he doesn’t answer, I nudge him, getting no response. “Reid?”
Still no response.
If he wasn’t like a dead weight on me, I would think I had missed his reply. But he hasn’t moved, not even a flinch at the loud bangs echoing around us. He’s just still.
I try to wriggle free, panic engulfing me. “Reid? Reid?” I scream. “Oh my god!”
Please be okay.
Please be okay.
Jaxon kneels down next to me, fear clouding his vision as he rolls Reid off me.
I turn to Reid immediately, my panic becoming hysterical.
Blood is running down his cheek, his complexion ashen.
“Someone call an ambulance.” My hearing clears a little, enough for me to hear the panic of those who have ran out of their homes.
“We need to move him,” Jaxon orders. I know he says more, but my focus is on Reid.
“We can’t move him. It might cause more damage,” I stress, and realise he isn’t talking to me; he’s talking to one of the triplets.
Whichever triplet it is reaches down, placing their arms under Reid’s armpits, and starts to drag him away from the house. Jaxon reaches for me, and I numbly follow, ignoring the sounds still going off behind me.
Liam is standing near my car, his hands linked on top of his head as he stares at the destruction of his home.
I follow Reid and whichever triplet has him. Once he lowers him on the grass in another garden, I sit down next to Reid, placing his head in my lap.
This can’t be real.
It can’t be.
Jaxon kneels down in front of me, reaching for my face. “Are you listening?” he asks.
“W-what?”
His gaze softens. “Summer, you can’t tell the police you knew.”
“I didn’t. I mean, I did, but I didn’t,” I rasp, and I would have gone back to looking at the house but Jaxon doesn’t let me turn my head.
“You can’t tell them anything. You came to visit Reid, okay? They don’t need to know anything else. Do you understand?”
I don’t, but I do at the same time.
Katherine is responsible for this.
I nod. “Yes. I won’t say anything.”
His phone rings. He pulls it out of his back pocket, his brows pinching together as he glances at the screen.
“Paisley?” he greets.
I vaguely hear her hysterical cries, but not enough to make out what she’s saying. Not until... “It just blew up. Todd was trying to figure out what was wrong with it, when it just went boom, throwing him across the drive.”
“Is he okay?” he demands.
More sniffles echo over the line. “Mum is on the phone to the ambulance service. He’s pretty banged up.”
“We have our own situation going on here, Paisley, but we will be back as soon as we can. In the meantime, call Landon home, get Mum, and stay away from the businesses until we get back.”
He ends the call and I meet his gaze. “What is happening?” I whisper.
“Black,” he replies, his tone hard, unforgiving, and lethal.
He lets me go and I stare back down at Reid, brushing his hair from his forehead. That’s when I notice the contusion on my forearm. I take stock of us both, noticing we have a few more bumps and cuts that I didn’t see before.
A tear falls, landing on his forehead, smudging the soot.
He’s okay.
We’re okay.
Everyone is okay.