Chapter 32
KAT
“Tom, where are we going?” I finally get the nerve to ask, the last ten minutes of silence eating at me from the inside.
“Somewhere safe.”
“I-I don’t have anything with me and—”
“It’s all taken care of.”
He says the words without looking at me, his body tense and his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“But my phone, and my laptop… I don’t have any clothes.”
“And none of that matters right now, Kat.” His head snaps to look at me before turning back toward the windshield. “Someone tried to run you off the road!” he roars, the flash of anger so out of character for the normally stoic man.
“I’m sorry!” I cry because I can deal with the anger but the underlying disappointment is enough to make tears pool in my eyes again.
“I’m not a dick because I think it’s fun, Kat. It’s your fucking life. And thinking that could never happen to me doesn’t work. It is happening and news flash—this is definitely your life.”
“Tom—”
“No.” The leather around the wheel squeaks as he tightens his grip. “I trusted you, Kat. I trusted you to respect me. To respect Jace. And you broke that trust.”
There’s a tremor of fear in his voice, one that goes so far beyond the professional realm we’ve been living in to the one we skirted around on the couch.
“I know,” I relent, brushing away the lone tear on my cheek.
We don’t say anything else as we drive, my focus out the passenger window, the guilt so potent I can barely breathe.
It feels like we’re on the road for hours, but it’s only been twenty minutes when Tom pulls into a mostly empty parking lot.
There’s an older model Range Rover backed in against the retaining wall, and after looking into the rearview mirror again, Tom pulls in beside it and kills the engine.
“Don’t move.” The command is clipped but I’m not going anywhere. I might not even be able to stand. Whether my body hurts from the impact or just being so scared, I don’t know, but every muscle is screaming right now, the spike of adrenaline wearing off in a hurry.
The trunk slams and I watch as Tom walks to the driver’s side of the other vehicle and climbs in. It roars to life. It’s dark out, but by the light of the dashboard I can see how tired he is—how stressed.
I did that.
And for what?
Nothing.
Driving to clear my head, to feel normal, almost cost me my life.
“You could have been taken, or worse.”
I watch as Tom moves from the other car back to this one, the trunk opening and closing as he transfers three large duffle bags into the back seat of the Range Rover before turning and looking at me.
There’s only glass separating us but it might as well be a brick wall.
Slowly, like he’s forcing himself to move, Tom pulls open my door, but he doesn’t move, just cages me in as we stare at each other.
And he doesn’t hide.
He lets me see the terror, the anguish, the absolute darkness within—each emotion flitting across his face before dissolving into the next.
It’s a punishment as much as it is a warning. Darkness flows through his veins, the kind that had seemed so romanticized in my head. But this is real, and without him uttering a word, I know he’ll stop at nothing to make sure I’m safe.
“Are you ready?” It’s barely a whisper as he leans back and offers his hand. Nodding, I unbuckle my belt and place my palm in his. Large fingers wrap around mine as he gets me settled in the other car without a word.
I don’t want it to be like this.
I wish we could go back to the way we were.
But I ruined any chance of that.
I watch as he methodically locks up the SUV before climbing in next to me, his cologne wafting across the cab. It’s heady and reassuring all at once, and it makes me want to crawl into his lap and stay there.
Where it’s just the two of us.
Safe.
“We have about an hour to go,” he says. “Sleep if you can.” Twisting around, he pulls a soft blanket from the back seat and hands it to me. “You’ve been through a lot.”
I want to object, but the second my fingers touch the fabric, I’m done. It’s soft and it smells like him and if I can’t have him, this is the next best thing.
Sort of.
Finding the lever on the side of the seat, I recline enough to relieve the ache in my back and spread the blanket over me. I only want to rest my eyes, but the second my eyelids close, I can feel the alluring pull of sleep, so I don’t fight it.
Because I swear I hear Tom’s voice whisper, “Sweet dreams, Kitten.”
TOM
Kat’s already asleep when I whisper the words, her whole body relaxing into the seat the second I handed her the blanket. It’d been a gift from Emerson and Isla for Christmas one year. The green-and-white paisley was not something I’d ever pick for myself, but they’d insisted I was boring.
They weren’t wrong then and they’re not wrong now.
Getting off at the next exit, I make the necessary turns to take us far away from the city and the surrounding area.
It’s farmland and rolling countryside now, and the records of this property are buried so deep no one would ever trace them back to me—if they could find an address at all. The surrounding area is a nature preserve and that suits our purposes just fine.
I already grabbed the groceries Royce rush ordered from the lockers at the gas station, lucky I wouldn’t have to deal with getting perishable items immediately. The lockers were a fairly new addition necessitated by all the folks around here that needed packages delivered in a timelier manner.
Overnight shipping doesn’t exist when you’re off the beaten path.
Part of me was surprised that Kat slept through it, but the other part was thankful she could rest. Unfortunately, that had me spiraling back to the reason she needed rest in the first place.
Exhaustion feels like a weighted blanket as I slow the Range Rover and make the turn onto the driveway. The house is set almost a half mile back from the road, the landscape making it impossible to see until you’re basically on top of it.
I loved this place the first time I saw it, but being here now has me wondering if I’ll be able to come here again with the same fondness. So few things in my life have sentimental value but this is one of them. I purchased it when I got out of the military.
It was the perfect spot when I needed a break, and when Royce moved in with me, this became his safe place too.
We could unwind here.
Exist.
I’m so lost in the memories, I don’t swerve in time to miss a rock, the car bouncing enough to wake Kat from her nap.
“We’re here,” I tell her, the headlights illuminating the small wood cabin in front of us.
“What?” she asks, sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she stares out the windshield. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“This is safe?” she asks incredulously.
“Yes.”
“How do you know?” Her voice is borderline hysterical and I get it. The sky is dark, the only illumination is from the car, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone for miles.
“Because it’s mine.”
“Yours?” It’s not accusatory, but the way she says it has my hackles rising.
“Yes,” I growl, slamming the Range Rover into park. “Let’s get you settled inside.”
Without waiting for a response, I kill the engine and push open my door, moving to the back seat to grab the duffles and grocery bags before making it around to her side.
“Oh my gosh, let me carry something,” she chides. “You don’t have to be so stubborn.”
Don’t react.
Don’t react.
Don’t fucking react.
The problem is I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. The line between professional and personal has never even been blurred let alone crossed.
The feel of Kat’s body against mine when she jumped into my arms had been pure relief, but now, I want her in my arms for an entirely different reason.
But I can’t.
I shouldn’t.
Because Kat is in very real danger and the clock is ticking.