Chapter Nine
Carver had just hung up the phone with Emmet when a frantic knocking echoed through his apartment. His fury was a palpable thing, coiling tight in his chest.
He yanked the door open, expecting his brother or one of his men, but instead, it was Lucy ’ s friend from the diner—Cindy. Carver vaguely remembered Lucy mentioning her a few times.
“Lucy needs your help,” Cindy blurted. “A man took her.”
She sounded and looked frantic, but Carver managed to calm her down enough to get the story out of her quickly. Cindy had seen Emmet dragging Lucy into a car, and she had come straight to Carver, knowing he was the only one who could help.
“I ’ m getting her back,” Carver said, his voice a low growl. “The guy who took her already made contact.”
“Okay, but you better bring her back in one piece. Lucy ’ s one of the good ones, you know. You’re lucky to have her,” Cindy said, her eyes fierce with worry.
“Don’t I know it,” Carver replied.
Once Cindy had left, he wasted no time. He packed a bag full of weapons—guns, knives, anything he might need. He didn’t have a choice; Emmet had all the cards, and worst of all, Lucy had been dragged into this mess.
He debated calling Devlin or Galen for a moment, then decided against it. This was his problem to take care of. Besides, if Emmet saw his brothers’ men with him, he might panic and who knew what he might do to Lucy?
Carver jumped into his car, adrenaline pumping through his veins. This was undoubtedly a trap, but he couldn’t let that stop him. As he sped through the streets, his mind raced.
He thought of Lucy. Cindy was right. Lucy was too good for this world, too good for him, but she had chosen to be with him, and he wasn’t going to let her down.
The city lights blurred as he drove, his focus razor-sharp. He reached the location Emmet had given him, a rundown warehouse on the outskirts of town. The place reeked of danger, and Carver could feel the tension in the air.
He parked his car a distance away, not wanting to alert Emmet to his presence just yet. He checked his weapons one last time, then made his way to the warehouse, keeping his steps silent.
Inside, the warehouse was dimly lit, shadows casting eerie shapes on the walls. Carver’s senses were on high alert, every sound magnified. He heard voices up ahead—Emmet’s unmistakable sneer and Lucy’s muffled protests.
He moved closer, staying hidden in the shadows. Emmet was pacing, a gun in his hand, while Lucy was tied to a chair, looking scared but defiant. Carver’s heart clenched at the sight of her. He decided to confront the bastard head-on.
“You really think you can take me down, Emmet?” Carver called out, stepping into the light.
Emmet spun around, his eyes narrowing. “Carver. You always did have a flair for the dramatic,” Emmet said.
“Let her go,” Carver demanded, his voice cold and hard.
Emmet laughed, a harsh sound that grated on Carver’s nerves. “Or what? You gonna shoot me? Go ahead, but she’ll be dead before you can pull the trigger,” Emmet pointed out.
Carver took a step forward, his gun trained on Emmet.
“You don’t have to die today, Emmet. Walk away, and maybe you’ll live to see another sunrise,” he said.
Carver was lying of course. He had zero intentions of letting his rat live after what he ’ d done. Emmet’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, but he didn’t lower his gun.
“You think I’m afraid of you?” Emmet demanded.
“No,” Carver said. “But you should be.”
In a flash, Carver fired a shot. Emmet’s gun flew from his hand as he screamed in pain, clutching his injured wrist. But Emmet wasn’t done yet. With a roar, he charged at Carver, tackling him to the ground.
The impact knocked the wind out of Carver, but he quickly recovered, rolling to his feet just as Emmet lunged at him again. They grappled fiercely, fists flying and feet scrambling for purchase on the grimy floor.
Emmet was strong and desperate, his movements fueled by pain and fear. He landed a solid punch to Carver’s jaw, making his vision blur momentarily. But Carver was faster, more controlled. He blocked Emmet’s next punch, then countered with a swift elbow to the ribs.
Emmet doubled over, but managed to grab a metal pipe from the floor, swinging it wildly. Carver dodged the first swing, the second, but the third caught him on the shoulder, sending a jolt of pain down his arm.
Gritting his teeth, Carver grabbed the pipe, yanking it from Emmet’s grip and tossing it aside. Emmet, undeterred, threw himself at Carver again, trying to choke him. They crashed into a stack of crates, the impact sending splinters flying.
Carver could feel his breath being squeezed out of him, but he refused to give in. Summoning every ounce of strength, he twisted out of Emmet’s grip, using his momentum to flip Emmet onto the ground.
With a swift, powerful move, Carver pinned Emmet, one knee on his chest.
“ Carver! ” Lucy yelled, kicking his fallen gun toward him.
Carver grabbed the gun, still keeping Emmet pinned, then shot him right between the eyes. Emmet ceased to move. He was finally and truly dead.
Carver stood up, his chest heaving, and turned to Lucy, quickly cutting her free from the ropes that bound her.
“Are you okay?” Carver asked her.
Lucy nodded, tears of relief in her eyes. “I knew you’d come,” she said.
Carver pulled her into a tight embrace. “I promised, didn’t I?”
He helped Lucy to her feet, keeping a protective arm around her as they walked out of the warehouse.
The night air felt cool and refreshing after what happened inside. He made a mental note to call Devlin for a clean-up crew. As they drove away, Carver glanced at Lucy, her hand clasped tightly in his.
“We’re going to be okay,” he told her.
“I know we are,” Lucy said.
****
Carver’s heart pounded as he lay next to Lucy that night, the memory of the day’s events still fresh in his mind. She had asked to stay the night, and of course, he couldn’t refuse her.
They had taken a shower together, the warm water washing away the grime and tension. Now, in bed, she huddled close to him, her body warm against his.
He held her tightly, his mind racing with worry and doubt. “Are you having second thoughts about us?” he asked.
After everything that happened that day, he felt he had to give her a way out. This life was dangerous, filled with constant threats. He had chosen this path, but Lucy still had a chance to escape it.
Lucy turned to face him, her eyes soft and searching. She cupped his cheek, her touch gentle yet firm. “Why did you ask me that?” she asked.
Carver took a deep breath, his heart aching with the thought of losing her. “I nearly lost you today,” he admitted.
“But you didn’t,” she whispered.
“Lucy, it’s not too late to back out,” he murmured, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face.
The thought of her leaving was devastating, but he would understand if she chose to.
“Carver, don’t you get it? I’m all in,” she said, her voice steady and sure. “After Emmet took me, I didn’t blame you for putting me in this situation. We only have one life … and I want to spend that with you.”
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, but in the best way possible. Carver felt a swell of emotion he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years. He kissed her, a slow, deep kiss that conveyed all the feelings he couldn’t put into words. He hugged her close, his heart hammering against his chest.
He didn’t know what he had done to deserve her, but he knew he was never letting her go.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, the words feeling both foreign and utterly right.
“I love you too,” she replied without hesitation.
****
The next morning, Carver woke to the sound of voices. For a moment, a wave of panic surged through him, almost certain that Emmet had returned to threaten Lucy again.
Then he remembered—Emmet was dead. He rubbed his eyes, shook off the remnants of sleep, and headed toward the source of the conversation.
He found Lucy in the kitchen, chatting with Devlin. The sight was unexpected but strangely comforting. Lucy, wearing only one of Carver’s oversized shirts, looked self-assured and confident, her laughter filling the space. Devlin, in his usual impeccable suit, was an imposing figure to most, but Lucy seemed unfazed.
“Hey, you,” Lucy said, finally noticing him.
She set her coffee mug down and walked over to him, standing on tiptoe to give him a good-morning kiss.
“Your brother was at the door, so I decided to let him in and invite him for coffee and breakfast. I hope you don’t mind,” she said.
“Breakfast?” Carver asked, his eyes moving to Devlin, who was indeed eating a breakfast sandwich. Carver shot his brother an annoyed look, but Devlin ignored it.
“I came by to check on you,” Devlin said smoothly.
Bullshit , Carver thought. Devlin probably had other reasons for his visit, likely business-related, but it was clear that meeting Lucy was also on his agenda.
Carver had already informed Devlin about yesterday’s events and had asked him to send a cleaning crew to the warehouse.
“Thanks for the concern, Devlin,” Carver replied, his voice edged with sarcasm.
“How could I not be concerned?” Devlin said, his tone light but his eyes serious. “You had a rough day yesterday.”
Lucy looked between the two brothers, sensing the underlying tension. “I’m just glad everything’s over now,” Lucy said.
Devlin gave a small smile. “You handled yourself well, Lucy. Not everyone can face a situation like that and come out unscathed,” Devlin said.
Lucy shrugged, but Carver could see the pride in her eyes. “I had good people looking out for me,” Lucy said, shooting him a look.
Carver felt a swell of affection for her. Despite everything, she was handling herself remarkably well. He pulled her close, kissing her temple.
“You were amazing,” he murmured.
Devlin finished his sandwich, wiping his hands on a napkin. “I’ll leave you two to your morning. But Carver, we still have things to discuss,” Devlin said.
Carver nodded. “I’ll be in touch,” he told his brother.
Devlin gave Lucy a nod and a smile before heading to the door. “Take care, Lucy,” Devlin said. “ And you should come by for dinner at the house soon.”
“You too, Devlin and I ’ m looking forward to that,” she replied, watching him leave.
Once the door closed behind Devlin, Carver turned to Lucy. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he told her.
Lucy smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I just did what needed to be done. And besides, I like your brother. He ’ s not as intimidating as some people made him out to be,” Lucy said.
Carver chuckled, pulling her closer. “Most people would disagree with you,” he answered.
“Well, I’m not most people,” she said, leaning in for another kiss.
“No, you’re not,” Carver agreed. “And I’m so damn lucky to have you.”