Chapter 15
HAZEL
He said he wouldn’t get hurt.
He said he’d be careful. That he’d be okay.
But while I was hiding in the bedroom closet, Alec was nearly shot.
Shot.
I can’t tear my eyes from the ripped sleeve of his sweatshirt, torn from the bullet that came only millimeters from hitting him.
Someone shot at him.
He could have been killed.
“It’s nothing,” he assured me the second he opened the closet door. “Not even a graze. I’m fine. I promise.”
But he almost wasn’t. If Alec had moved a few inches to the side, he would have been hit. In his arm, his chest, his heart—
There was a third attacker, Alec explained, who was waiting in the woods as a lookout while the other two were supposed to break into my house. “It’s my fault,” Alec grumbled. “I shouldn’t have assumed it was just the two of them. I should have known better.”
They were all apprehended. Thankfully. From what Alec told me, he got the first one on his own, then Ronan disarmed the second. Then Knox and Gage went after the gunman hiding in the woods and captured him before he could escape.
Now all three criminals—burglars? kidnappers? attempted murderers?—are on the floor in my living room, zip tied within an inch of their lives and staring at Alec and his teammates with fear in their eyes.
My attention keeps jumping back to Alec’s arm, his ripped sleeve a terrifying reminder of just how close he came to being hurt. A chilling reminder of how I almost got him hurt.
“We’re going to interrogate them ourselves,” Alec told me as I followed him out of the closet.
“Not that any information we get can be used in court, but we can use it in our own investigation.” He inspected my face before adding, “You don’t need to be there for it.
You can stay in the bedroom. Or go into the office.
There’s no need for you to be around those men at all. ”
But I want to be here. I want to know everything. I don’t want to hear the truth doled out in bits and pieces, cushioned with reassurances and softened edges. I want to know the hard reality of it.
If Alec nearly died trying to stop these men, the least I can do is face them instead of hiding again.
So I’m squished into the corner of the couch while Ronan, Alec, Gage, and Knox take turns pacing around the living room. They’re all throwing angry, threatening glances at the three restrained men, and I know if I were on the receiving end of those looks, I’d be peeing my pants at the very least.
Whenever Alec passes by the man with an apparently broken nose—at least judging from the crooked angle of it and the blood coating his chin and chest—he mutters something under his breath that makes the man pale.
And Ronan keeps spinning his wicked-looking knife, tossing it up in the air and catching it effortlessly.
After a few minutes of quiet intimidation, Alec’s the first to speak.
He approaches the broken-nosed man and comes to a stop by his head.
Looming over him, looking more intimidating than I’ve ever seen him, Alec growls, “Here’s how this is going to work.
You’re going to answer our questions. All of them.
And if you don’t, you’re not going to like what happens next. ”
As Alec crosses his arms across his chest for emphasis, my gaze jumps to his sleeve again. But instead of seeing a tanned patch of unmarked skin, a violent wound superimposes itself over it. It’s deep. Painful. Bloody.
It was too close.
The terrifying reality of it slams into me again.
Alec could have been killed.
Because of me.
Panic keeps bubbling up, threatening to take over. The only way I can keep it at bay is by digging my nails into my palms to the point of pain and gritting my teeth hard enough to send shooting daggers through my jaw and neck.
I can’t fall apart now. Not when there are more important things to deal with. Like the three men who came here with the intention of… What? Kidnapping me? Killing me? Holding me at gunpoint and violating me?
A low moan works its way up the back of my throat, but I swallow it back. My eyes burn and my nose prickles.
Alec casts a quick glance at me, his eyebrows raising in silent question. His worry is a visible thing.
I force a weak smile and mouth, I’m fine. Even though I feel the furthest thing from it.
He hesitates for a moment before giving me a quick nod. Then he turns back to the man on the floor and snaps, “Why were you here?”
The man scowls at Alec. “Why should I tell you?”
Faster than I can blink, Alec whips his gun from his holster and points it at him. “Because I’ll shoot you if you don’t.”
“His name is Wyatt Canton,” Gage offers, holding up a canvas wallet as he says it.
“At least, that’s what his ID says. And the photo looks like him.
” To the man—Wyatt, apparently—Gage adds in a conversational tone, “Not very smart. Bringing your wallet to a home invasion. You could have dropped it at any time, and then where would you be?”
Wyatt barely looks at Gage. His eyes are glued to Alec’s gun. “What are you going to do to me? If I talk?”
Alec lowers his weapon slightly. “I won’t shoot you, to start.”
One of the other men snaps, “You don’t have to say anything, Wyatt. He’s all talk.”
“We don’t have much time,” Knox interjects. “I’m sure someone heard the gunshot outside. It’s only a matter of time before the police start canvassing the area.”
Alec lifts his chin at Knox. Then he turns to the man who told Wyatt not to talk. “Let me lay it out for you. In words you can understand. The woman you came after? She’s my girlfriend. So I’m pretty fucking pissed. Pissed enough to shoot all three of you and take my chances with the cops.”
“Self defense,” Ronan adds helpfully. “I’m sure we could come up with a story that fits.”
“Also,” Alec continues, “I already know one of your names. Once the police arrest you, I’ll find out the others. And you know what I’ll do with that information?”
Wyatt sniffs hard. Then he turns his head and spits a large glob of blood onto my nice hardwood floor. “What?”
Alec narrows his eyes at him. “I’m good with computers.
Really good. Good enough to fuck up your life if I want to.
I can clean out your bank accounts. Make sure every person you’ve ever met knows what kind of garbage you are.
” He pauses before adding ominously, “I can make sure your families suffer for what you did.”
The third man, who’s been silent until now, blurts out, “I’ll talk. Shit. I’ll talk.”
Alec spins towards him. “Talk, then.”
The man gulps. “And you’ll leave my family alone?”
“Yes.”
And from there, he tells us everything.
First, he confirms that yes; they did come to my house with the intention of killing me. Which isn’t a surprise, given what’s happened already, but it’s still shocking to hear him come right out and say it.
Cringing away from a furious-looking Alec, the man admits, “We needed to make sure she died this time. That’s why all three of us came instead of just sending one person, like we did before.”
With a dangerous chill to his tone, Alec asks, “What about the man who broke in before? Was that one of you? Or did you hire him, like you did the man who showed up at the bar?”
The man—who confessed his name was Owen—replies, “We hired him. We thought it would be better if we didn’t get our hands dirty. Tampering with the brakes was one thing. That was easy since Kyle’s good with cars—”
“What the fuck!” the previously unidentified third attacker snaps. “Don’t tell him my name, Owen. Just because you can’t keep your damn mouth shut—”
Owen angles his head to glare at Kyle. “Are you an idiot? Once the police arrest us, they’ll know our names, anyway. All they have to do is run your prints and they’ll pull up that arrest from two years ago.”
“Shut up, you two,” Wyatt barks. “You’re just making things worse.”
Alec cocks the trigger of his gun, the soft sound more deafening than any shout.
“Stop. Arguing.” As all three men go silent, Alec focuses on Owen again.
Coldly, he continues, “Keep talking. I want to know about the man you hired. Was he the only one? Or did you pay someone else to try to finish the job?”
“We realized we needed to do it ourselves,” Owen answers. “Since the guy we hired screwed it up both times.” He pauses. “After he got caught at the bar, we were afraid it would come back on us. We couldn’t risk hiring an outsider again.”
“But you couldn’t get to her, could you?” Alec asks. His narrowed gaze sweeps across the three criminals. “So you tried to scare her into exposing herself. By threatening her friend.”
“That was my idea,” Wyatt volunteers. A beat later, he pales. Swallowing hard, his throat makes a dry, clicking sound. Weakly, he adds, “I mean, it wasn’t exactly my idea…”
Alec advances on Wyatt. Fury burns in his eyes. “Are you the one who hacked into the game servers?”
Wyatt flinches as Alec’s gun drifts towards him. He looks visibly conflicted. Finally, Wyatt admits, “Yes. I accessed the subscription data.”
“So that’s how you found Hazel,” Alec says, “and her friend. Right?”
“It wasn’t just my idea,” Wyatt whines. “Owen and Kyle told me to do it.”
“Shut up!” Kyle flashes an angry look at Wyatt. “Why don’t you just confess everything?”
Wyatt glares at Kyle. “My mom’s on disability. You know that. I can’t take the chance of this guy”—he jerks his chin at Alec—“screwing with her. Taking her money. Getting her kicked out of her apartment.”
With a pleading look at Alec, Wyatt asks, “You’ll leave her alone? If I tell you everything? She’s not involved in any of this. I swear.”
An unreadable expression moves across Alec’s face. After a few seconds, he replies, “I’ll leave her alone. But only if you keep talking. And don’t leave anything out.”
Despite the obvious anger in Alec’s eyes, I know he would never hurt an innocent woman.