Tyler’s Rule (Skeleton Crew #3)

Chapter 1

Dixie

The speedboat cut through the waves, and I clung to my seat with every one of my sparkly-tipped fingers. At the controls, my kidnapper watched the water, following some invisible directions to wherever he was taking me.

Tyler.

A shock. A friend. Or so I thought.

I hunched in on myself, the wind whipping so hard it rat-tailed my hair and cut through my pleather jacket, freezing me to the bone.

I shook.

Not just from the weather, but from a state of delusion.

A cray-cray bubble of happiness. I hadn’t felt anything good in weeks, but at the appearance of the huge crew leader, I was a doe-eyed doll.

All gooey-centred and soft. I’d thought about him.

Magicked him up to the frozen Scottish island where I’d been hiding.

And he’d snatched me from the beach.

What was a little abduction between friends? My injured heart didn’t give the tiniest damn.

That should’ve scared me the most.

Tyler twisted to me, then his eyebrows dove together and he slowed the boat. The wall of noise and wind ceased, letting me hear his deep voice.

“You’re cold.”

It was the first words he’d said since we’d set out. Conversation had been impossible. I hadn’t even cared to ask what was going on. Caring might crack open something I didn’t have the strength to handle.

“Here.”

He unzipped his coat and draped it around my shoulders, the black material swamping me but instant warmth bringing me back to life.

I hated how fast my body softened.

Trauma brain. Attachment brain. Whatever it was, it purred like a kitten.

The ghost of a smile lifted his lips, then he tore his gaze away and got us going again, across the grey-blue sea. I brought my knees into the coat and zipped it up around me, my hair under the collar and safe from the breeze.

Ghost. That was his crew name. Though I didn’t have the teeniest clue how he’d earned it, it worked for how he was spiriting me away. My insides gave another joyful squeeze.

He was massive with thick muscles. Probably early thirties. Close-cropped dark-blond hair. Serious in everything he did. A total boss babe but with a flash of kindness and humour underneath.

Tyler was so nice to look at. I’d always thought that whenever I saw him around the warehouse, when I had no reason to be cautious.

What the hell was wrong with me now?

Since I’d left Deadwater, I’d been so lonely.

I’d missed laughing with my friends. The sexy dancers.

The dangers of the skeleton crew. I missed city lights and takeaway food.

Almost everything, except the clients. I couldn’t bring myself to love the stark beauty of the Hebridean islands where I’d fled to stay with my mother.

I snorted a laugh, burying my face in Tyler’s coat.

Mum wouldn’t be sorry to see the back of me.

With my precision makeup and fake titties, I’d scandalised her neighbours.

A sourer thought curdled my belly.

Right before Tyler had appeared, two things had happened. I’d read a headline when I’d been seeking out glimpses of home. The Marchant family were all over the news after being associated with people trafficking. That sank in me heavy, too many memories scurrying around my brain.

Once upon a time, I’d been a part of that family.

It was over fast, but it shaped my life for the worst in every way.

Then, when I’d been staring at my screen and reeling, a ferry had approached the island, bringing with it a familiar figure hanging over the railings—my friend Lovelyn.

But also a man I didn’t know. A brick shithouse of a guy who terrified me.

A guy who’d sent me running from my last hiding place.

My safe haven was blown open.

It was no coincidence that they’d come for me. Lovelyn was the sweetest girl. She would’ve looked for me for my sake.

Mr Shithouse must have coerced her into helping him. Either by threat or fake promises. I prayed he wouldn’t hurt her when they found me gone.

I hugged my knees harder and kept my gaze on Tyler’s profile. His steady focus on getting us to land.

Thank all the pretty angels that he’d been the one to find me. To grab me before the Shithouse could. At whatever was coming next, I was safe in his hands. I knew that as well as I knew how to draw on a wingtip with a swipe of my fingers.

Tyler’s intervention had come right at the point where I had no more strength to run. There was no way I was fighting him. Even if I wanted to.

But I really needed to ask the question.

Land came into sight fast, and we cruised into a quiet dock. Tyler tied off the boat then stepped out and offered me a hand, one foot to the boards, keeping the vessel steady. Cautiously, I rose and put my fingers in his. Electricity danced between us. I stumbled.

He steadied my elbow. “You’re okay.”

A rush of emotion hit me.

I wasn’t okay. I hadn’t been in a long time. Not from months ago when I’d been brutally attacked and left for dead, and not weeks ago when a client tried to rape me. I was so far from okay it was a blurry dot on the horizon.

My chin wobbled, but I put my head down and let him lead me up the track to a car park, rain spattering us so we hustled.

I didn’t need his guidance to find the right vehicle.

Tyler drove a matte-black chunky SUV. Old enough that it didn’t stand out but with power under the bonnet for him to do his intercept job. I’d admired him in it many a time.

I knew it well enough to see that he’d switched the plates.

At the door, I finally got my voice back. I lifted my gaze to his eyes. Grey. Beautiful.

“You taking me back to Deadwater?”

I wanted it but at the same point couldn’t handle it. Not the questions or the faces.

Anything but having to give answers.

Splotches of raindrops dampened Tyler’s shoulders. He should have been freezing, but his rough fingertips on my arm were so warm. “No.”

Good enough for me. I climbed into his passenger seat and let Jesus take the wheel.

I must have nodded off the minute Tyler hit the heat. I’d slept badly for so long that the sense of safety he gave me knocked me out better than any drug could’ve.

When I woke, it was to him saying my name. I blinked my eyes open. The afternoon was darker. Our car stopped.

“Dixie,” he said again. “We’re here.”

I stepped out of the car and peeked up at the property we’d stopped beside.

A log-built home, single storey with a slate roof coming down low. Pretty. Thick woodland lay to one side, not a neighbour in sight, and a view on the other stretched out to rolling hills with a high point in dark-green and grey stone. I squinted at the landscape, trying to recognise where we were.

“Deadwater Ridge,” Tyler informed me with a head tilt to the summit.

I knew it. About an hour from the city. The peak marked the border of Scotland and England, just as the river that flowed through our city did the same further to the east.

From a storage box at the edge of the drive, Tyler collected shopping bags then gestured for me to follow. At the front door, he wrestled to get his keys from his pocket, so I took them from him, unlocking the door myself.

A good little kidnap victim, helping out.

I stepped into a cosy but spacious room. A stone fireplace, the scent of wood in the air, a deep and comfortable-looking brown leather sofa with a blanket across the back. No TV, though that was hardly a surprise.

I glanced back to find Tyler watching me.

“What?” I asked.

“Strange to see ye here.”

“At the place you brought me to?”

He chuffed a laugh and kicked the door closed, carrying the bags through to the kitchen. I trailed after him, taking in the range cooker warming the place, then watching as he unpacked fresh bread, vegetables, and cupboard goods from his delivery.

“You stocked up. Planning to keep me for a while?”

Tyler stilled. He set down the bag of apples in his hands. “I don’t want ye to be scared.”

At long last, real fear trickled into my veins.

I hadn’t let myself feel anything but the happiness he’d sparked and relief at fleeing a worse fate. “That’s about the scariest sentence you could’ve led with, hun.”

He swallowed. “You’re safe here. From anyone. The house is highly secure, and nobody followed us.”

I already knew that. He was safety tied up in dark denim and sliced with a trusty blade, so it made sense that his woodland retreat would be, too. It was what he wasn’t saying that caught the breath in my throat.

“Who knows I’m here?”

“Not a soul.”

Oddly, I felt better that no one knew he’d taken me.

“Not that man who came for me right before you appeared?”

Caution and interest flickered in Tyler’s eyes. A wild animal, scenting prey. “Who?”

Then the Shithouse wasn’t with him. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Dixie, tell me—”

I raised a shaking hand. “Honestly. I’m scared enough without going over details, I’m begging you.”

He breathed out but gave a short nod. “If that’s what ye want. I have to go to work. I hate leaving ye, but I’ll make it as short as I can.”

I took a backwards step. He’d brought me here and was abandoning me? “You’re going to the warehouse?”

He inclined his head. Though he radiated reassurance, I couldn’t read everything about him. He seemed so in control, but almost nervous with it. Something was happening I didn’t understand.

“Can’t you stay?”

“I wish I could. There’s no time now, but if ye give me a chance to explain when I get back, I’ll do my best to give answers. I can guarantee my promise. No one is going to hurt ye. I’d lay down my life for that.”

God, those were pretty words.

Nice enough to keep.

He collected his keys from where I’d left them on an oak side table.

“Just a sec.” My fingers trembled. “You’re my friend, aren’t you? You won’t hurt me either.”

Emotion crossed his features, gone too quickly for me to identify it. “Never. Trust me until I can explain better. Even if ye can’t, just trust that I’ll keep ye alive. I’ll be back.”

With that, he was gone. The door shut before I’d had a chance to move. Through the window, I watched his headlights peel away, then I was all alone.

It took long minutes until I tried the door handle. Locked. I crept across the living room to the kitchen. The back door wouldn’t budge. The windows, too.

At least I had my phone. Tyler hadn’t taken it or even asked.

I worked out why. No signal.

But as I scanned the screen, the article I’d opened on the beach moments before he’d taken me was still there. I stared at the words that condemned the Marchant family, scrolling past the piece I’d already read.

At the bottom was a summary of previous articles, the Marchants having apparently lived rent-free in the press for a while.

My heart froze.

Three heirs to a fortune face an uncomfortable investigation. Following the death of their grandfather, Kane, Darcy, and Emilia Marchant are set to inherit his multi-million-pound business. But as further dark secrets are revealed…

I couldn’t click on the link to read more, even if I’d had signal for it to load. I couldn’t move. I hadn’t been Darcy Marchant in a very long time, but now the world knew that name.

How long until they found me?

Wait.

My knees gave out, and I sank to the polished floorboards.

Tyler had come for me. He’d worked out my secret.

I’d fled the warehouse on the night I’d heard that Convict’s girl was Emilia. The sister I’d never met. Now Tyler was driving straight back there to, what? Sell me out to her? The newspapers? Force me to handle a past so harmful I’d all but blocked it out?

My crush on the man had blinded me to what he wanted, and now, I had to get out of here. By whatever means possible, I had to escape.