19. Talon
nineteen
Talon
K yle’s phone calls were becoming more frequent. Three calls in one day? He was spiraling. Whatever dirt he thinks Milo has on him has made him more paranoid than he had ever been. If it weren’t for the fact that every time he called, he reminded me of the threat he’d made on Leo, I’d be able to maintain some composure.
The picture he’d sent preceding our phone call this time had been from the parking lot of an elementary school. Leo’s elementary school. Something inside me had snapped. The kid was being stalked by his deranged great uncle and it was my fucking fault. I needed to do something. How could I count on him to back the fuck off once I threw Milo back at his feet? I couldn’t.
And then what? He’d have more leverage on me than ever. My little brother. My kid. What would be next? My house? My business? And if I were honest with myself, those things hardly mattered anymore. Not in the grand scheme of things. Not when held up next to the lives of my son and brother.
Shit, maybe I was the one spiraling. It had all seemed so simple a few days ago. Find Milo, move on.
But it hadn’t been simple, had it? Because there was no way I was actually going to let Kyle hurt Milo, and that was the only reason that he wanted him back. So what was I expecting to happen? I hadn’t thought that far ahead. As soon as the kid had been brought up, I’d lost all common sense and rational decision making skills.
Then there was the girl I’d drug into this mess. What the hell was I going to do with her? It’d been an hour since I’d bit her head off in the hallway and I hadn’t seen her since. Hadn’t so much as checked to make sure she hadn’t taken off again. Like I fucked her twice and suddenly my guard was down. What the hell was wrong with me?
Storming back to the room from where I’d been hiding near the hotel’s kitchen, I mentally prepared myself to deal with the onslaught of accusatory sass and any number of verbal attacks. I wasn’t sure I had the mental bandwidth to deal with it, but I’d done it to myself. Besides, that would be better than the alternative—that she might have taken the opportunity my absence presented and taken off, finding the nearest police station.
Opening the door as silently as I could, I stepped through. The bedside lamp illuminated the room in a soft glow, leaving shadows to bounce around the furniture. There was no bombardment of questions or endless quips; Misely was curled delicately over the quilted covers on the bed, her hands tucked beneath her unbruised cheek.
It had yet to fail to surprise me how peaceful the little terror looked when she was pulled under the throes of sleep. She shivered in her ridiculous silk pajama shorts, and I wondered if the reason she wasn’t beneath the covers was because she’d been trying to stay awake. To demand apologies for my earlier behavior or just for the sake of it, I had no idea.
Despite the gentle warmth in the room, she was clearly cold. Goosebumps riddled her bare arms and legs, and there was a distinct quiver in her slumbering features. I sighed, running a hand down my face with exasperation. I should let her stay cold. We’d crossed enough lines already and the reality of our situation was getting blurry.
Going to her silently, I loomed over her. She looked so soft this way, like she’d found a way to shut off the fierce little attitude just by closing her eyes. I hated that I found it endearing. Sighing, I scooped her up as gently as I could so as not to wake her. She mumbled something indecipherable, her eyes remaining closed.
Misely smelled like cherry blossoms and the clean aroma of whatever it was she put on her face every night. Against my better judgment, I leaned into it, bringing my nose to the top of her head to breathe her in. My thoughts reeled with images of the way she’d thrown her head back in pleasure, the way she had come to me for it. The way her lips turned up when I was rough, or if I made a snarky comment about her talking too much. She didn’t shy away from my hard edges, instead it almost seemed like she wanted them. Like she needed them.
It felt very different than when women would pursue me for sex before. I made my mind stop with that thought. Because there shouldn’t be a before Misely or after Misely . There should be no Misely. No letting myself want more of what I should have never had.
Pulling the covers back, I forced myself to lay her back down, not allowing my hands to linger too long where they brushed against her bare skin. Then, for good measure, I grabbed the cuffs from where I’d tucked them under the mattress and secured her wrist. It would serve as a necessary reminder to both of us of where we stood. When the cold metal locked around Misely's small wrist, her eyes popped open, honing in on me and narrowing sharply. She jerked, trying unsuccessfully to free her arm before I could secure the cuff.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Her words were venomous. “You have got to be, right? You have got to be fucking kidding me. After all the times I could have run today, now you choose to tie me to this stupid fucking bed? When I’m finally sleeping comfortably?” A little taken aback by how quickly she had been able to go from that sweet, peaceful slumber to viciously ripping my head off, I blinked. It would have been impressive if it weren’t for the way her next words settled into my gut like a boulder. “I hate you.”
Misely did not speak a single word to me for the next two days. No snide remarks, no flairs of dramatics. At the same time each day she held out her hand until I placed her phone in it, allowing her supervision to call the foster children under her guidance or to assure her friend that she was still alive. She did not try to run again.
She set up in the dining room with her laptop, where she would remain for hours, dutifully responding to emails and taking conference calls. Her tone was polite with Susie and the other employees of the hotel, and always cheerful when food was involved. But to me? She was as cold as the winter that froze the earth outside.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected. We’d spent the better half of our time together at each other’s throats. There had been sexual tension there from the beginning, of that I had no doubts, but really that didn’t mean anything. Crossing that line and getting each other off did not make us friends and it certainly did not mean she owed me any variety of kindness. It meant we’d scratched a mutual itch. End of.
If only I could actually convince myself of that.
She was sitting across from me as we sipped the scalding tea Susie had brought out for us. Buried in her emails—all of which I’d already perused for any potential games afoot—and proactively ignoring my existence at the table with her. I was pretending to be waiting for Rodger who was supposed to be on his way to pick the two of us up to finally meet with Paulie.
It was a stupid charade. I could have waited in the sitting room or the foyer or literally anywhere else. Instead, I had sat at the table with her, under the guise that I wanted to ‘keep an eye on her.’ Another dirty fucking lie. I just liked being close to her cherry blossom scent. To watch her as she concentrated. To watch all the varying emotions that warred over her expression when work was stressing her out.
Those were things I had no right to want.
Those were the troubling thoughts plaguing my mind when my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I stiffened, preparing myself for another ridiculous call from Kyle. The name I saw instead made my blood run cold. She never called.
Without letting myself dwell, I answered after the second ring. “Kenna, what is it?” I hadn’t meant to sound so cold and cursed myself for it. All concern for that vanished when I heard the shake in Leo’s mother’s voice. We had not spoken in years. Not since we’d reached a financial agreement while she was still pregnant with Leo.
“Talon, I—” she started, pausing to take a quivering breath. “I don’t know if I’m overthinking this, maybe I am but—”
“What’s happening?” My body was rigid in the antique chair where I sat, anxiety burning my spine.
Kenna sniffled, making evident that she had been crying. “There’s this car…I have seen it behind me every time I leave the house, and the other day I saw it parked out by Leo’s school. It’s been sitting on our block, just down the street. And there’s this man and he is always there.
“Talon, you told me that it wasn’t safe for you to be in your kid’s life and I took you at your word. You said you’d keep us safe—”
“Is Leo okay?”
“Yes, of course he is,” she snapped. “What is going on? What do you know?”
“I need you to take Leo somewhere. Anywhere. But get him out of there, at least for a little bit.”
“Talon, I swear to god if you don’t—”
“Listen to me Kenna, do as I say. Get. Him. Out. Of. There. I need you to pack some bags and get on a plane somewhere.”
“I can’t just up and leave, we have a life here. We have jobs. Leo is in school—”
“It’s an impromptu surprise vacation. I will pay you back every penny you spend. With interest. Just get him out and be as discreet about it as you can. I will take care of this. I promise. Now swear to me, Kenna. Swear to me you’re going to get Leo out.”
“If you got us tangled up in some bullshit, Talon, I swear I’m going to fucking kill you. If either of my children are in danger, I’m going—”
“ Swear it to me , Kenna.”
I could almost hear the way she aggressively squeezed the phone in her hand. “I swear.”
I hung up before saying anything else, my muscles tight with fury and worry in equal measure. When I looked up, Misely’s eyes were glued to me, widened just a little. Still she didn’t say a word but I couldn’t bring myself to speak either. I’d been so concerned about whatever Kenna might be calling for, I didn’t think to leave the room for privacy. It didn’t matter because that sinking pit I’d been feeling in my stomach from the moment we’d left Chicago was now an open chasm and I knew this would not be a simple extraction.
Everything was different now.