Chapter Forty-Five
Kiyah
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but….”
“Spit it out, Kieran,” I mumbled, responding to an inquiry email for representation.
“Your face… it’s…. ”
I glared at my youngest sibling as he tiptoed around calling me something moderately offensive like “unfortunate-looking.”
“Currently, you have the face of a back office employee. You shouldn’t be client-facing today.”
“Go to hell,” I mumbled, trying not to laugh.
“Seriously, Ki. Go lie down in my office, lower the shades, turn on the white noise machine, and get some shuteye,” he instructed, adjusting his briefcase on his shoulder.
“I have to answer the phones.”
He waved me off.
“We’ve been without a formal receptionist for the last two months. Just tap in the answering service and catch a nap.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled through my nose while my stomach performed a double back tuck.
“I think I might take you up on that offer.”
Kieran checked his watch and muttered under his breath about traffic and whether he could snag a parking space close to the courthouse.
“Screw it. Shut it down. I’m taking you home. I can make it in time as long as everyone remembers where the gas pedal is.”
My shoulders dropped in relief before I could stop them.
I felt like shit since before we left the house, and I didn’t have anything to prove to anyone by pushing through it.
I just wanted out of the building that smelled like reheated coffee, toner, and whatever else was making my stomach double-dutch.
I kicked my heels off and dropped my head against the headrest as soon as I lowered myself into Kieran’s car, and I knew he was my favorite sibling when he put the A.C. on full blast. I’d nearly fallen asleep when Kieran’s phone rang loudly through the car.
“Kiyah, you’re not performing your wifely duties.”
I raised my head and peered at him, suspended in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”
He shrugged, shooting out of the parking lot. “I’m just saying, if you were, then Big Bro would stay off my dick,” he exclaimed, jabbing the accept button on the dashboard. “What do you want?”
The line fell silent, and I imagined Grant was just as shocked as I was from Kieran’s outburst. Eventually, Grant cleared his throat and responded.
“Good afternoon to you, too, Wesley.”
“You know who isn’t having a good afternoon? Kiyah. Why didn’t you leave her at home if she wasn’t feeling well? Every time I passed the reception desk, I was afraid she’d blow chunks all over it.”
“Nice visual,” Grant commented.
“I’m just being honest. I hate to admit it, but I think it might’ve been the oysters from the party.
Ronan hasn’t been feeling so hot either, and he was slurping them down like he was getting paid.
Mom ate a few, too. I’ll swing by the house after court, check on her, and report back to everyone in the group chat. ”
“Kieran, you’re not fooling anyone. You’re going to Mom and Dad’s to get a free meal,” I muttered, resting my head against the headrest again.
“That’s my business. What do you need, Grant?”
“I received an alarm notification and checked the cameras and was calling to see where you were taking Kiyah. I called, but her phone went to voicemail.”
“I’m taking her home, and if she vomits in my car, then you’re paying for it to be detailed,” Kieran threatened as he weaved through traffic.
“Understood. Kiyah?”
“Yes?” I answered, keeping my eyes closed.
“There is ginger ale and crackers in the pantry. I’ll bring soup from the deli you like.”
“You’re a godsend.”
“You say that now. Set the alarm when you get home.”
“I will,” I promised.
“Good. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“So, fuck me, huh? No one loves me?” Kieran teased.
“We love you,” Grant and I said simultaneously.
“Much better. Now get off my phone. I’m almost out of minutes,” Kieran claimed, hanging up.
“You’re so stupid. Phone minutes don’t exist any longer, and you’re so cheap you’d stick to a text-only plan.”
“Good thing we’re still on Dad’s phone plan,” he said, swerving from behind the driver of a Mini Cooper and cutting them off. I screwed my eyes tightly and gripped the armrest.
“Relax, Kier.”
He snorted. “You’re the last one who should be talking about someone’s driving. At least we’ll make it to our destination with me behind the wheel.”
“I’m not so sure,” I gritted through my teeth.
We rode in silence for a few minutes before Kieran cleared his throat.
“What’s up?”
“We need to talk about Casey.”
I nodded.
“Casey has been off lately. Not hiding-a-secret-marriage-for-seven-years off, but it’s something.
He’s been withdrawn, short-tempered, and disappearing off the grid.
Ronan thinks it’s drugs, Daisy and Nori think he’s gambling, and our parents are still recovering from all the bullshit that I don’t even think they noticed. ”
“What do you think is going on?”
“Woman trouble for sure. He’s probably found the woman he wants, and she won’t even give him the time of day.”
“That would be enough to drive me crazy and acting funny,” I murmured.
“That’s just how the universe works, you know?”
“I know,” I whispered.
“I’m sending an invite for the siblings to jump on a group chat tonight to discuss.”
I cracked an eye. “Will this lead to an intervention?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Good luck with that.”
“I know he won’t be receptive, but he can’t fight all of us,” Kieran stated, turning onto our private street.
“You forget that Casey fights dirty.”
“I didn’t forget,” Kieran said with a grin, tapping the armrest. “I got something for him.”
My eyes widened when Kieran pulled a firearm out of the compartment.
“You plan on shooting him?”
“No. Brandish it a little bit, but not shoot him,” he explained.
“I think it’s been confirmed Mom dropped you on your head.”
“I’m joking. It’s for you,” he said quickly, turning it around and offering it to me, grip-first.
“I don’t need a gun. There’s like fifty of them in the house.”
“I know,” he said, voice softening as he slowed to a stop in the driveway. “Take it, Kiyah. It’ll make me feel better, especially with that asshole lurking.”
He was serious. The joking tone was gone, and what was left was my baby brother trying to protect something he couldn’t afford to lose.
I reached out before I could overthink and accepted the cool steel. I checked the safety. Satisfied, I secured it in my purse.
“Okay,” I said softly. Relief crossed his face so fast it hurt. “Go,” I told him. “You’re gonna be late.”
“You’re gonna be okay?” he asked as I stepped out of the car, closing the door.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
“Lock the door and set the alarm.”
“I will,” I confirmed, letting myself into the house. I secured myself and watched him pull out of the circular driveway.
I barely had time to think about the gun weighing heavily in my purse when Grant texted me.
Grant: Good news. Mr. Preston offered to meet with me tomorrow.
Something loosened in my chest, and I finally felt I could breathe.
Help is coming.
* * *
I had barely settled into the mattress when my phone rang. I’d just closed my eyes and my stomach had settled. It wasn’t 100%, but it was manageable. I fumbled with the phone on the nightstand and squinted at the number before answering.
“Hello?” I answered, still a little dazed from my brief nap.
“Kiyah. This is Mr. Gilbert, the medical director at Emerald Hills.”
My breath stalled and my pulse spiked. There was a pause that was just long enough to make me sit up.
“Your grandfather is awake,” he said. “He’s asking for you by name.” My chest tightened painfully. “To be this lucid end of stage is nothing short of miraculous. You should come as soon as you can. I tried calling your father earlier but reached his voicemail.”
“And my grandmother?” I asked, pulling on clothes.
“She isolated herself in her room. It’s not looking good, Kiyah. His vitals… they’re dropping fast.”
That was all I needed to hear.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I bounded down the stairs, slipped on a pair of tennis shoes, grabbed keys and my purse. I launched myself into the Mercedes, and the engine roared to life. I drove erratically while I attempted to call Grant.
“Shit,” I cursed when the phone slipped out of my shaky hands and fell onto the floor. I reached for it and nearly slammed into the back of a minivan. “Okay. Okay. Just get there, and then call,” I said aloud.
I was close—two miles away, driving the winding streets towards Emerald Hills. I glanced at the phone that buzzed across the floor mat. The screen flashed Grant’s name.
I never saw the headlights as the car careened off the road. My head snapped sideways, and pain detonated behind my eyes as the world spun. The vehicle eventually skidded to a stop.
My vision tunneled briefly as I attempted to orient myself. The windshield was splintered in several directions like a glass spiderweb. The air smelled like burnt rubber and gasoline. My ears rang as I unbuckled my seat belt.
Movement caught my attention. Shapes stepped outside of a car, and those shapes soon turned into masked men.
I didn’t have time to panic. My instincts kicked in hard and fast. I launched myself over the console and fumbled for my purse. My fingers hooked the strap just as the driver’s side door was yanked open.
“Get off of me!” I yelled when one of the men roughly grabbed my arm. “Help me!” I screamed when he hauled me out of the seat. My shoulder slammed into the doorframe as he dragged me out. I hit the ground hard, and the impact knocked the breath from my lungs.
My purse fell onto the asphalt, and the gun skidded across the pavement under the car. I rolled over, snatched it up, switched off the safety, and fired into his chest.
The shot rang through the trees, and the man collapsed to the ground. The other men shouted and swore, and by the time they figured out what was going on, I was running for my life.
Branches tore at my arms as I plunged into the woods. My feet slipped on leaves and dirt, but I refused to stop. My lungs burned, and my heart hammered as footsteps pounded behind me. I didn’t look back and kept going until the trees thinned.
I chanced it when I felt I had put some distance between us. I turned and took advantage of the clear line of sight, firing again. Blood and brain matter sprayed against a tree, and I was running before his body hit the ground.
I lost my footing when someone slammed into me.
I screamed when I was thrown to the ground and attempted to fight off my attacker.
A direct punch to the face dazed me, and a face I knew too well—a face that plagued my nightmares—loomed over me.
His panting breath was hot, and his grip around my wrists was iron-tight.
“You know… I’m pretty fucking tired of the Baker women killing my men,” Todd snarled.
I clawed and kicked at him, fighting with everything I had left, but my head still rang, and my body lagged like it was trying to buffer.
Something struck my temple, and then the world went dark.