Chapter 29
29
LYL A
I’m floating on crowd freaking nine the whole way back to the family boxes, my heart full from finally telling Aidan I love him and my thighs still trembling from the epic orgasm he gave me in the storage closet. I’ve never come that hard or fast, but damn, bossy Aidan is sexy as hell.
The box is full today, but when I enter the room, Wren’s eyes immediately snap to mine. Her ocean blue gaze is alight with mirth as she winks at me. Crew is curled up in one of the large reclining seats near the wall of windows that overlooks the field, but when he notices where Wren’s attention has gone, he gasps.
“Mommy, you’re back!” he squeals, sprinting to tackle me in a hug that would make anyone else think I’d been gone years and not less than an hour. I curl myself around him, holding on as tight as he is and inhaling the watermelon scent of his shampoo that’s become as familiar to me as my own.
“See? I told you I’d be right back, Crew-bug. Did you have fun with Auntie? ”
He nods against my shoulder but burrows further into my arms. “Yes, but I missed you.”
My eyes mist over at the whispered confession, and all I can do is hold him even tighter. “I missed you, too.”
When I glance around the room to make sure we’re not blocking anyone from the door, I see Wren staring at us in shock. Her mouth is open comically wide, and her eyes are so round that it’s a wonder they don’t fall straight out of her skull. Crew finally releases me, grabbing my hand to pull me back to his chair.
Wren sits down next to us and slowly reaches out to grasp my free hand in hers, threading our fingers together and squeezing tightly. “Mommy, huh?”
I bite my bottom lip in an effort to control my smile, but it’s no use. “It started this morning.”
“Does Aidan know? How did he react?”
Pulling out my phone, I show her the messages from earlier, intentionally ignoring her snickers when she sees his contact name. When she actually reads the texts, though, her eyes well with tears.
“Ly…” she chokes. “I’m so happy for you. For all y’all. I can’t imagine a more wonderful woman to complete their family.” Her eyes dart around the room until they land on Cal in the corner. “Does this have something to do with big and beefy over in the shadows?”
Clearing my throat, I take my phone back and grimace. “That’s Cal, our bodyguard. He’s hanging out with us until my ex is found and dealt with.”
Her eyes widen exponentially. “Until he’s found ? When did he go missing?”
My grimace transforms into a full-blown cringe, and I spend the next fifteen minutes going over the events of the last day in detail, only leaving out the intimate details. By the time I fini sh explaining, Wren looks like a fish out of water. “Damn, Lyla-boo. I’m glad you got out when you did because the guy seems like his wheel is still turning, but the hamster’s definitely dead.”
I raise a brow at her, but she snickers and waves me off. “Crazy. He seems batshit crazy.”
Ah.
I open my mouth to reply, but a quick tug at my sleeve steals my attention. “Can we go get a pretzel?”
Ruffling Crew’s hair, I nod. “Be right back?” I say to Wren. She smiles and waves us on, so I walk over to let Cal know what we’re doing.
He smiles as we approach. “Leaving already?”
I shake my head, but it’s Crew who replies. “No, silly! Mommy said we can go get pretzels! I’m getting cheese with mine. Cheese on pretzels is the best. Daddy likes mustard, but that’s so gross.”
Cal chuckles and nods. “I agree. Cheese is the best.”
The minute we step into the hallway, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, causing me to glance around furtively. Cal sees me pause and tenses, subtly checking our surroundings again. “Did you see something, Miss Taylor?”
The feeling of being watched is thick in the air around us, but a more thorough look around comes up with nothing concerning, so I shake my head slowly at Cal. “I think maybe I’m just anxious because it’s getting more crowded with the game about to end.
The Raptors are now leading by six runs at the top of the 9th, meaning the game is practically over and people are starting to leave. Aidan explained to me that baseball games go for nine innings, with each being split into a “top” half, and a “bottom” half. If the home team is leading at the end of the top of the 9th inning, they’ll call the game early since the home team bats at the bottom of each inning.
He nods in understanding and hovers a hand over my lower back while I keep Crew’s hand locked firmly in mine. “Just stick close, and we’ll be back in the box in no time, but maybe we take the stairs instead of the elevator? The less exposed we are, the better.”
The hulking man follows our lead to the only stairwell in the vicinity. This area is a little more outdated than the rest of the stadium since it’s essentially used as a service entrance, meaning the door is one of those that has a long hinged bar for a handle.
The second I push down on the handle, a gloved hand snarls in my hair, yanking me through the door and slamming it shut before Cal or Crew can follow.
I cry out, falling to my knees at the sting, lifting my head just in time to see Cal ramming his massive shoulder into the door as Sebastian jams it with a metal bat. My stomach sinks like a rock, and my heart races when I realize I’m trapped in this stairwell with the man who almost killed me last year.
“Mommy!” Crew screams. Fat tears drip down his cheeks and soak his light blue shirt as he pounds his tiny fists on the door.
Bas is still wrestling with the door, so I take a moment to assess my surroundings and reassure my boy. “Crew-bug, go find Auntie Wren and stay with her,” I yell. “Cal, call the police and find Copeland! I’ll be fine!”
Sebastian snarls, whipping around and backhanding me so hard my head hits the metal handrail on the wall, rattling my brain. The deserted stairwell swims around me, and when I rea ch a hand to the back of my head, it comes away wet with blood. “Oh, shit.”
A malevolent chuckle is my only warning before I’m yanked up by my wrists and slammed into the wall. The handrail responsible for the way my skull throbs in time with my rapid heartbeat digs into my lower back as Bas shifts his grip, trapping both of my wrists in one of his big hands. He pulls out a knife with the other, holding it shakily at my neck.
The cool metal of the blade glides up my throat and over my face, tracing my features slowly. “I almost forgot how pretty you look all bruised and bloody, darling. Maybe now that I have you back in my care, Father will stop berating me for letting you get away,” he murmurs sweetly, pressing the knife into my neck hard enough to cut. I force the tears back and bite my lip in an effort to stay as silent as possible.
“But you just had to go and be a little fucking cunt , didn’t you? You just had to go and embarrass me in front of the whole goddamn world, always acting like you’re better than everyone else just because your dad is a mediocre actor.” He smashes our hands against the wall, and I feel one of my wrists crack, forcing a scream from my throat.
He groans like the sound turns him on. Knowing my ex, it probably does. “Fuck, I missed the sound of your screams, little bunny. It’s time to get you back home where you belong. Tied up in my basement where you can’t cause any more fucking problems.”
His tongue darts out to lick up the side of my neck, making me gag violently. My reaction must piss him off further because he backhands me again. This time, I feel my lip split, but I also feel a warm liquid sliding down my cheek, so I assume his family ring cut me there as well. A pained whimper slips free.
“Come now, bunny. It’s time to go.” The words come out in a giddy cadence, and he bounces on the balls of his feet like a child excited about a trip to the zoo.
Sebastian drags me down the stairs with him at a pace much too quick for how fast the world is still spinning around me. Every time I stumble over my own feet, he stops to inflict some new form of pain.
By the time we make it to the ground floor service entrance, I feel bruises forming all over my body, and I have cuts on more than just my face from the knife he’s wielding.
The back door slams open with force, and whatever Bas sees on the other side has him stilling before he hurriedly pulls me to him by my hair. I cry out as one arm wraps around my shoulder, and the other still holds the knife at my neck just hard enough that I feel the sting of the blade.
“Now, Sebastian, let’s not be hasty here. Just let the girl go, and we can forget this ever happened, okay? But I need you to let Lyla go now,” a man’s voice soothes.
Sebastian growls deeply, the knife digging in even further when I whimper. The man in front of us looks vaguely familiar, but with the way my head pounds, I couldn’t place him if I tried.
He definitely looks like he could be a bodyguard of some kind. With his dark jeans, black tee, and coiled earpiece, he would look like an off-duty Secret Service agent if not for the full sleeves of colorful tattoos lining his arms.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is my fianc é, and I’ll be leaving here with her whether you like it or not.”
The knife moves, slicing my throat enough that I feel blood dripping down my neck. I bite my lip so hard blood wells where my teeth pierce the thin skin. The man’s eyes widen minutely, and his gaze darts over my right shoulder less than a second before a deafening pop rocks the alley around us.
Bas drops like a rock, only with the way he has me gripped in his arms, he takes me down with him, landing on top of me so we’re face to face. I feel a thick, viscous liquid seeping into the front of my shirt and vaguely realize what I just heard had to have been a gunshot.
His weight is quickly ripped off of me, and then Cal’s face is hovering over mine, his hands moving over my body like he doesn’t know where to start. “Fuck, oh fuck , Lyla, I’m so sorry. I didn’t— I had to get Crew back to the suite, and I called Ryett in for backup, but it took y’all so long to get downstairs. We didn’t want to risk breaching the hallway and him hurting you even worse. Goddamnit, I’m sorry.”
Cal’s words are a frantic mess of apologies and incoherent mumbling, and if I wasn’t in so much pain, I might laugh. As it is, I think I’m in shock because the first thing out of my mouth is, “Who the hell is Ryett?”
He huffs, sounding mildly relieved. “You didn’t think the exorbitant price you paid was just to hire little ol’ me, did ya? I was just the first one able to be here so last minute this morning. The other men on my team, Ryett, Beau, and Atlas, are all here securing the scene and getting all the different branches of law enforcement up to speed.”
The other man, Ryett I remind myself, joins us on the ground, his critic al eyes looking me over until they meet mine and soften. “Sorry we had to meet like this, Miss Taylor. My name’s Ryett and I’d like to look you over if you don’t mind?”
All I can do is nod silently, and it’s only when he begins to examine me that I realize I’m trembling intensely. I try to lift my right arm to swipe at the blood dripping into my eye and cry out. Ryett winces. “You’ll need x-rays to confirm, but based on visual exam alone, I’m going to say your wrist is broken. Did you hit your head?”
Another nod earns me a shared look of concern between the men in front of me. “Let’s get you sitting up, Lyla. The EMTs should be here any minute to get you to the hospital,” Cal says gently. They do exactly that, going slow enough that the world doesn’t spin this time.
We sit in silence for a moment as I get my bearings, at least until the back door slams open again. Both men in front of me draw their weapons but lower them when they see a shocked Copeland with his hands in the air. “Woah, hey! Wren came and got me. As soon as I was off the field, I ran straight here.”
He’s telling the truth. He’s still in his full uniform, cleats dragging against the concrete as she shifts from side to side. Ryett and Cal separate, having formed a wall of muscle in front of me when they sensed a potential threat.
Cope’s eyes land on me and widen. I must have a worse head injury than I thought because I see what looks like tears gathering in his green eyes.
“Tiny,” he breathes. In three large strides, he’s on his knees in front of me. His large hands skim over my shoulders and down my arms, but he pulls back quickly when he touches my wrist, and I wince .
Fury twists his features into the scariest look I’ve seen on him yet, and suddenly, he’s on his feet and stomping over to where my ex lies, moaning on the pavement. Copeland lands a swift but brutal kick to the asshole’s ribs, a loud crack reverberating around the alley walls.
Sebastian screams, his face going purple from both pain and rage. “You motherfucking asshole! I’ll sue you for that!”
Cope snorts, swaggering my way. “Good luck provin’ I did shit to you, you pathetic prick.”
My ex seethes, but the effect of his anger is dulled by the fact that he’s face down on the ground with his hands zip-tied behind his back. “There are witnesses,” he threatens, spit flying everywhere with each heaved breath.
Some of the shock is finally wearing off, so I look around at the four security guards and my friend. “Did you guys see anything?”
They all shake their heads with large grins.
I shrug delicately, my ribs protesting at the motion. “I must have gotten a good kick in when we were tumbling around in the stairwell.”
Bas starts to retort when the alleyway suddenly floods with police and press alike, lights flashing as the officers attempt to clear a path for the ambulance. The door bangs open again, producing the one face I’ve been dreading seeing.
“Aidan.” The word is barely more than a whispered breath, but it’s enough to catch his attention. His eyes land on my battered face and fill with tears, but when he notices the blood soaked into the front of my shirt, a hand flies up to cover his mouth as a choked cry escapes.
He hits his knees in front of me and gently, oh so gently, pulls me into his arms. “Angel, fuck . When Wren came to find us, I wanted to come right away, but I had to stay and make sure Crew was okay. I came as soon as I could, baby.” Aidan’s hands move to cup my face, bringing my gaze to meet his red-rimmed eyes, darkened with worry and anger. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry I wasn’t there.”
I shake my head quickly. “No, Aidan, I’m sorry!” I cry. The shock has completely worn off now, and harsh sobs wrack my aching body as the pain and reality of what just happened finally registers. “C-Crew w-was there. He s-saw Sebastian take me. I t-tried to reassure him, but h-he was s-so scared!”
Aidan chokes on a sob of his own as he lays the softest kisses all over my sore face, his lips coming away slightly bloody. I cringe, reaching up to wipe it away, but he kisses my finger instead. “My sweet, perfect girl. You did everything right, my love. You did what you could to keep Crew calm, and you kept him safe. But what matters most right now is that you’re alive . You made it out and came back to me, Lyla. To us . Sebastian can never hurt you again, do you hear me? You did that on your own.”
I must have a guilty look on my face still because he raises his brows at me and pointedly glances around at the beefy men forming a protective barrier between us and the rest of the world. “Okay, so maybe you had a backup plan. We’ll talk about you sneakily hiring security later, by the way. You beat me to it.”
He grins briefly before growing serious. “I am so proud of you, angel. You’re truly the strongest woman I know, and I can’t imagine a better mother for our children.”
The EMTs are rushing our way with multiple stretchers, but I keep my focu s on Aidan. “Children? Do you know something I don’t?”
Even tinged with worry, his grin is flirtatious. “If you think I’m not gonna to tie you to me in every way humanly possible, as soon as possible, you’re outta your damn mind, baby.”
I don’t have time to process his declaration as I’m surrounded by medical personnel and police, each one speaking over the other as they load me into the ambulance. Aidan follows me, but my focus shifts to the scared little boy inside. “Aidan, go be with Crew. He needs you more than I do right now.”
He opens his mouth to argue with me, but a tattooed hand lands on his shoulder before he can. Copeland’s face is set in stern determination as he settles a glare on his best friend. “Go get Crew and meet us at the hospital. I’ve got Ly.”
Aidan once again starts to argue but is cut off by Cope. “Let her get checked out and cleaned up before Crew sees her, man. He needs one of you with him, and no offense, tiny, but you’re looking very Carrie right now, and I don’t think we need to add anything else to his therapy checklist.”
A hoarse laugh escapes, and I think that was his goal because the corner of Copeland’s mouth tips up in a small smile. Aidan looks horribly torn, but I smile reassuringly and squeeze his hand. “I’ll be okay, Aid. I have Branch here to keep me company while the doctors fix my face and hand.”
He snorts, getting my joke right away, but Cope looks confused. I pat him gently on the shoulder. “I know you’ve seen Trolls , pal. The name makes sense. ”
The big, bad, tattooed grump rolls his eyes, but I swear I see the barest flush hit the tops of his cheekbones.
“Ma’am, we need to leave now,” the EMT interrupts us, and Aidan leans in to kiss me hard and fast. “I love you. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” He looks to his friend. “Take care of her.”
Copeland nods seriously, and we’re both loaded up. I stare out the small windows at the man I love long after we pull away, thanking every deity I can name that I made it out alive.