CHAPTER 54
Frankie
Happiness is a strange emotion. Strange for me, at least.
It’s like being in pain for a long time, maybe a wicked sore throat or broken arm, and then all of a sudden, the pain lifts.
After a week of feeling crappy, it’s possible to forget that there’s a different way to feel.
When the sense of being pain-free becomes a distant memory, you can’t be sure it was ever real.
That’s the way it’s been for me. Up until now.
At this moment, I’m floating in a cloud of happiness, snuggled down inside the warmest and softest blanket of delight ever known to humankind. And it’s mind-blowingly bizarre.
The last time I felt this loved and safe was back before Dad died, when life was simple.
I had family. I had found family, too. I belonged and I was taken care of, supported and encouraged.
And that was the last time I felt this kind of happiness—until the day my hot rancher rode up to the cabin and saved me.
I now understand that I’ve been stumbling around for a lot of years, talking myself into believing that I was happy. That all I needed was a well-paying job, a few lovers here and there, my little house, and my cat. But nope. That wasn’t the real deal.
This is. Now. Walking hand-in-hand with Special K down Sweetbriar’s Main Street, I’m buzzing with joy. My hand feels just right in his large grip. Our strides are matched. We fit. We’re supposed to be like this, together.
We found each other for a reason.
We’re on our way to the general store to pick up supplies. Special K has come up with a plan, and I’ve agreed to it. We’re leaving together. Today. At this point, we agree it’s our only option. We can’t go our own ways. We can’t be separated. That boat has sailed.
We’re sticking together. We are two halves of a whole. We balance each other out and we bring out the best in the other.
Soulmates.
I used to think that was a load of corny, romantic bullshit. Because I didn’t know it was possible. I do now.
“This is sad, but it’s happy, too,” I tell Special K.
He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it.
“Only happy, Boots. Trust me on this. We’re heading toward a long and beautiful life together.
Our story has a happy ending. And we’ll find a way to stay connected with my family—we MacLaines can accomplish downright magical shit when we set our minds to it. ”
He snaps his fingers. “I almost forgot. Emma made some box lunches for us. Stay here, and I’ll run inside to get them.”
I stand on the sidewalk and watch the man I love run into Emma’s restaurant to pick up our food.
Main Street is quiet. It’s dotted with quaint stores, and only a few people are walking around, getting their shopping done.
It’s a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Las Vegas, and I have to admit I like it.
A pang of guilt hits me. I don’t want to drag Special K away from this paradise, but maybe he’s right. Maybe we will have a happy ending. Maybe he’ll figure out a way for us to move back here in perfect safety and security.
I’d like that. Very much.
After all, I don’t think Russian mobsters have pension plans. At some point, over time, Niko will surely grow bored with looking for me. He’ll move on to something or somewhere or someone else, and forget I ever existed.
Right?
The wind picks up, and I push my hair off my face. Summer’s beater pickup drives down the street, and she waves to me, smiling. I wave back and laugh, watching her clunk down the street. I’m going to miss that girl.
Summer is forthright, kind, and hilarious. I have a feeling we could be great friends. And I really want to meet that baby. I want to see Jamie become a grandfather and Declan become a dad. I want to see everyone else step into their roles as aunts and uncles and cousins.
I’m so caught up with thoughts of Summer’s baby and the MacLaine clan that I don’t notice the black Lincoln Navigator until it’s already pulled up onto the curb, blocking my view of Emma’s restaurant.
At first, I’m confused. Did someone run off the road? Was there a fender-bender?
And then I know.
The back door swings open. Beneath the bottom edge of the doorframe, two black military boots slam down to the sidewalk. And then someone is behind me.
I spin around and get ready to scream when a huge gorilla of a man wrenches my arms behind me, yanks them up, and slaps a gloved hand over my mouth.
Three more men surround me. The four of them move as a unit, hiding me from sight and moving me toward the vehicle. A fifth man holds the door and there’s another driving.
Six men? Niko sent six fucking mobsters to snatch me off the street?
I can’t believe this is happening. I wiggle and twist my body like a fish out of water, doing everything I can to free myself from their control.
But one of the men just snags my ankles and yanks my feet off the ground with a grunt of irritation, like this is the most boring kidnapping he’s ever had to carry out.
I scream and scream into the leather glove, but the sound dies. Another man presses down on the back of my head, folding me in two. I barely weigh one-twenty-five sopping wet and each of these assholes must weigh double that. There’s no reason for them to be so rough with me.
Unless Niko ordered it.
Just as I’m being shoved into the back seat, I bite down on the gloved hand over my mouth and he loosens just long enough for me to let go with a quick scream.
It comes out as loud as an air raid siren.
The rest happens too fast for me to process.
I’m dropped. My head bangs against the side of the SUV. I crawl away as everything around me turns to noise and scuffling and flying fists. Broken glass. Blood.
I stagger to my feet in time to watch a gun go spinning down the sidewalk. Another weapon flies through the air and lands in Emma’s flowerbed. She rushes out the door and screams. Over and over, even as she pulls her phone from the pocket of her apron.
One man goes down. A second falls right at my feet, his body twisted into a strange shape. Like the night Niko invited me to his gangland ambush.
And at the center of all the chaos—the eye of the hurricane—is Special K.
He’s delivering carnage. He’s taking on every one of them. Fists, kicks, elbows, knees. A knife flashes. A skull cracks. He’s a one-man wrecking ball.
He’s why I’m not in that huge black vehicle speeding to Niko.
He can’t do this.
“Noooooo!”
The cry escapes my open mouth as I spin in a panic. No. No. No.
“Stop! Please!”
Niko found me.
Fuck, no. This can’t be real. Not now.
Emma’s horrified eyes meet mine.
I start running backward. I’ve got to get away.
Ground and pound. I’ve heard customers use that term talking ‘bout mixed martial arts. There has been no shortage of UFC fans who come to Lynx after a fight. And that’s exactly what I’m witnessing.
Ground.
And.
Pound.
And it’s all from Special K.
I scream. I just watched him turn a man’s face into a swollen melon. Into hamburger. Blood and spittle fly from the man’s slack mouth. The driver jumps out from the black SUV.
I know him.
He steps right up to Special K and glares at him. Special K turns and pounds the side of his head.
A truck screeches to a stop in the street. Cal and Finn jump out.
Special K’s brothers secure his arms behind his back while the men left standing drag their cohorts into the SUV. The black Lincoln speeds off just as two sheriff cars pull up sirens blaring.
Emma’s staring at me. She’s sobbing. Shaking. She thinks I’ve brought this nightmare to her nice little life, to her happy home.
And she’s right.
I’m gone.
I fly around the corner and race to Special K’s Escalade, damn glad to find the key fob in the console. I start up the car. Pull a U-Turn. And haul ass.
I don’t know how to get to the ridge from here, but I keep driving. I must get as far away from Yosemite Ranch as I can. I must get as far away from the MacLaines as I can.
I owe them that.
The afternoon sun dips down in the sky, and I turn the truck’s lights on. I keep driving, but I’m turned around. The dirt road ends, and I almost drive over the side of a mountain. Getting out, I continue on foot.
Somehow, even though I’m short on miracles, I make it back to the rutted road that leads to the shack. My Toyota is still there, hidden by dirt and limbs and leaves. I scrape everything off, find my extra set of keys in a magnetized box in the undercarriage, and take off.
I’ll probably never see Pussy again. But she’s safe at the ranch. She’ll have a good life. Jasmine loves her, and every little girl needs a good kitty.
I fight the tears until I make it to the paved state road. I reach around behind me and grab the long dark wig and pull it onto my head. No one knows my car, but plenty have seen me. It’s not a foolproof disguise, but it’s something.
I drive in the direction of the freeway. I know where I’m going. Not because I want to, but because I have to. The time for hiding is over.
Special K was willing to give up everything to keep me safe.
It’s only right that I do the same for him.