Chapter 9
Nine
Ledger
Eight days.
Fifteen hours.
Thirty-three minutes.
That’s how long it’s been since Blair took off.
I was confident that when my godchild came to Gnarly Pines there wouldn’t be a day that would go by that I didn’t get to revel in her presence.
Somehow that’s all gone to shit. For a few weeks, I had a taste of what it was like to simply have her.
She was mine… Well, as mine as I could allow her to be.
Then it all went up in a ball of flames.
But I’m close. So fucking close to getting Blair back I can nearly taste it.
And with Blair, I get to Rhett. He shouldn’t be out here, risking getting caught by the authorities any more than Blair should be out here facing an enemy with unlimited resources.
The SUV in front of me swerves hard. It begins to tip over but manages to get all four wheels back onto the dirt road before accelerating forward up the steep incline.
I don’t see the need for the swerve before it’s too late.
The front end of my trunk dips down into a large muddy ditch. I lurch forward, my chest slamming into the steering wheel. It knocks the breath from my lungs and my ribs scream in protest. Straightening, I try to back out of the ditch, but my tires only kick up mud.
“Fuck!”
Rather than mess around, I grab my rifle from the passenger seat, fling open my door, and give chase on foot.
My heart races as the first sounds of gunfire pepper the air.
They’ve found Blair and Rhett.
“Goddamnit!”
Despite having a tracker in Blair, I’ve been a step behind her and the men after her since they took off that night in Caddawalk. I’ve managed to stop an attempted hit on them twice but between having to refuel, eat, and get a few hours of sleep here and there, I’ve been failing to catch up.
Now Blair and Rhett are less than a mile away.
I have to get to them.
The gunfire grows more intense the closer I get. My booted feet sink into the mud, slowing me down. I shift gears and dart into the trees. There, the mud turns to dirt, the water sucked up by the roots of the vegetation, making the ground easier to run on.
There’s a scream.
Then another.
My heart seizes as I sprint toward the sounds of agony. I know I’m close when a stray bullet slams into a tree trunk that I run by. Another flies over my head. There’s another scream that’s choked off.
Is it Blair?
Rhett?
No. It can’t be.
I push away the idea that either of them could be hurt. Blair’s trained for shit like this. She’ll be able to hold her own. Rhett might not be used to the extreme threat constantly coming for him, but he’s ruthless and I know him—he won’t go down without a fight.
A minute later, I burst out onto the dirt road again. This time with my rifle raised and ready.
I take down one man immediately. Poised on top of the SUV with his back facing me, he doesn’t see his death coming. My attention swings to another man creeping up behind a large camper van.
Before I can get a shot off, a gun goes off and the man’s head snaps to the side before he collapses onto the ground.
I spare a glance from where the shot came but it’s wooded in that direction. It could’ve been Rhett or Blair. I don’t know and I don’t have time to check it out as another man emerges from one of the three SUVs.
My bullet slams into their skull, straight between the eyes.
Another man steps out from the trees to my left.
I whip my gun in that direction but then I see her.
Blair emerges right behind him. She jumps up onto his back, covers his mouth with one hand and then stabs a blade three times into his chest so fast her arm is nearly a blur.
To finish the job, she slashes the blade across the man’s neck.
Before the body even hits the ground, Blair’s dissolved back into the shadows of the woods, silent and deadly.
Now is the worst time to get hard—and yet, my dick doesn’t seem to agree.
Goddamn, she’s a force to be reckoned with.
Swallowing down the desire that rushes through my veins at the sight of my goddaughter murdering the assholes after her, I turn my attention elsewhere. I take down two more men as they scurry through the trees after her.
Before I can swing my gun in a different direction, a barrel of another presses against the back of my head.
Rather than freeze, I move. My elbow swings back as I duck.
It meets the gut of the person behind me.
As they grunt and stumble backward, I twist around to face them.
The masked individual recovers quicker than expected and a fist to my face forces my head to snap back.
The pain that explodes from my nose is shoved to the wayside.
My assailant tries to jerk the rifle from my hand, but I manage to hold on to it. Kicking out, my boot slams into their gut. This time when they stumble, I put a bullet into the top of their skull. I turn around, ready to find the next asshole to kill, only to find my path blocked.
My eyes lock onto a pair of familiar dark ones. They burn with rage—something I’ve never been on the receiving end of before.
Is this how his victims feel before he chops them up?
Do they feel like they're staring into the eyes of Satan himself? If so, I’d agree with that assessment.
“Rhett—”
His gun comes up and I find myself staring down the barrel.
My heart freezes for half a second. No, this can’t be fucking happening. He doesn’t understand, neither does Blair. I need Rhett to hear me out.
Before he can pull the trigger or I can plead my case, a bullet sails between us. We break apart, stumbling away from each other before turning to face the new threat.
The danger comes in the form of the driver of the nearest SUV.
With all doors still open, he tries to make a U-turn to escape.
The gun in one hand fires off round after round.
Rhett and I duck as a spray of bullets is aimed in our direction.
I hit the ground and roll behind a tree.
Bracing my back against the barrier, I take a second, then roll out with my rifle aimed at the driver.
My bullets get the back two tires, causing them to go flat and the SUV gets stuck in the softer mud on the service road.
The driver fires off several rounds in my direction, forcing me to use the tree as cover again as he jumps out of the immobile vehicle. Rhett steps out from his hiding spot and returns fire. The driver is hit three, four—fuck—five times in the chest before he goes down.
But before he’s out, the man fires off one more round.
Rhett snarls in pain as he staggers backward, then goes down on one knee. My next bullet gets the driver right between the eyes.
“Rhett!” I leap to my feet, dropping my gun to go to him. I’m by his side in five long strides. I place my hand on his shoulder. “Where are you—”
The tip of a sharp blade presses against my back, right where my spleen sits. I freeze. Rhett’s head comes up and gives me a dark smirk.
“How kind of you to care about me now, Ledger,” he sneers as he rises to his feet with ease, clearly not injured.
Son of bitch, I was tricked. But why? Why would—
Oh. Shit.
The blood drains from my face as I stare at Rhett.
I’ve been so worried about finding, and saving, these two that I didn’t consider how they would react when I showed up. Rhett would’ve told Blair about my involvement in the hit by now.
Fuck me…
She’s got to be pissed. An angry Blair means I’m dealing with a bloodthirsty version of my godchild. This won’t bode well for me. Anchor taught his daughter some nasty little tricks to torture victims. With Blair upset and with that knowledge at her fingertips…
I hold Rhett’s dark glare but address the woman behind me.
“Blair… We need to talk.”
Blair says nothing but the tip of her knife disappears. I let out a sigh of relief. Good, she’s willing to hear me out.
Just as I start to turn, something cracks against my skull. The pain is agonizing. It shoots down my neck and spine, before I lose feeling in my limbs. My vision grows dark and suddenly I’m falling. My face hits the ground right by Rhett’s feet. He snickers in response.
“Tie him up and drag him down to his truck. I’ll take care of the mess here,” Blair says, her voice coming from what sounds like a great distance.
I blink, the motion slow and uneven.
When I open my eyes, I find a pile of paracord by my face. Gingerly, I attempt to lift my head to look up. I manage to get it a few inches off the ground before the pain in my skull becomes unbearable. My face hits the ground and I let out a grunt.
Rhett grabs my hands, jerks them behind my back and ties my wrists together with the cord.
He does the same with my ankles. I try to speak but I can’t seem to figure out how to use my mouth.
I’m so fucking dizzy. Rhett must notice because he gags me with a cloth he pulled out from only god knows where.
When he’s done he steps into view, pulls out a cigarette, and lights it.
The drag he takes is long, the glare he shoots me dark.
When he releases a puff of smoke he grunts thoughtfully.
Rather than say a word, he pulls back his foot and slams it into my side, knocking the breath clear out of me. When he lifts his foot again, it’s to stomp on my face. He doesn’t hold back. The pain that comes with such a brutal strike is excruciating.
As the world fades away, I hear Rhett chuckle.
When my eyes open again, I find myself being dragged down the muddy road on my stomach. Small rocks and twigs scratch up my face and chest. The thick mud soaks through my shirt and pants, chilling my skin and bones.
Nausea rolls through me as the pain throbs in my head and side. I briefly lose consciousness again. The next time I wake, it’s to find Rhett pulling me up into the back seat of my own truck.
“For fuck’s sake, you need to lose some goddamn weight, asshole,” Rhett snarls as he manages to lay me across the seat.
I groan. Rhett ignores me to slam the door shut behind him. He climbs into the truck, taking the driver’s seat. He works to get my truck out of the small muddy ditch. When he’s managed the feat, he flips the truck around in the direction that I’d driven up in.
With a great deal of difficulty, I force myself to sit up. The cab of the truck spins. I take several long breaths to push down the wave of nausea rolling through me. The smell of blood, my blood as it drops from my nose, is metallic and overwhelming in the small space.
Rhett adjusts the rearview mirror so that he can see me. His eyes are still dark and full of murderous rage.
“Before she gets back, I need to know something,” he says. “Shake your head yes or no to my question. You conscious enough to understand me?”
I meet his gaze with one good eye as the other is already swollen shut, and nod.
“A few days before Blair arrived, Wes asked me to help watch over her. Not from this shit—” he waves his hand around flippantly, “—but to protect her from you.”
I blink in surprise. I didn’t realize Wes had such little faith in my ability to control myself around my godchild. Irrational anger burns the surprise away. How dare Wes attempt to put up roadblocks between me and my goddaughter?
“How did he describe it?” Rhett muses as he scowls thoughtfully. “Oh, right. Wes said you were ‘peculiar’ around your godchild. That you might suffocate her. He left out the part where you wanted to see her dead. I should’ve taken that ‘suffocate’ part more literally.”
I glare at him. If they would let me explain, they’d understand that I never wanted any of this.
“But beside my own failure to notice your betrayal coming and watching over her, you know what else I failed to clock? Wesley’s involved in this.
I’ve been wondering,” Rhett continues, his voice dropping an octave as his glare grows darker.
“How would Wes know to warn me about you? Yes or no—did he know that you put the hit on her?”
Immediately, I shake my head.
“So he’s not in on this at all?” Rhett presses.
Again, I shake my head as unease curls in my gut.
I never considered how this could look for anyone other than me. Wes hasn’t been involved in any of this, but I can see how Rhett would draw that conclusion. Especially given Wes’s warning prior to Blair’s arrival.
Rhett hums noncommittally before he pulls out another cigarette and lights it. He takes a few tokes then blows the smoke out the open window. I guess the conversation is officially over for now. I understand why when the passenger door opens abruptly and Blair jumps inside.
“Let’s go, quick. The smoke will draw attention if the gunfire hasn’t already,” she snaps.
“Feels like a crime destroying that van,” Rhett mutters.
“It had to be done. Too many fingerprints and… stuff.”
Rhett chuckles. “And stuff?”
“Yeah, stuff.”
I blink in surprise as the two of them share a look I can’t quite decipher. But while I might not be able to understand the look, I can feel the spark of energy that runs between the two of them.
Something’s transpired between the two of them since they left Gnarly Pines. Is this trauma bonding or something else? I guess it doesn’t really matter.
Despite the pain in my head, I can’t help but smirk.
They don’t know it yet, but this was all by design.