Chapter 9
Nine
I lower myself onto the black duvet. Now that the door is closed, the lamp on the nightstand is the only light, I suddenly realize how dark his bedroom is.
I don’t care, I’m stuck here. How am I supposed to get Rebel to school tomorrow if I have to be afraid of her or us being taken?
Why do those men even want her? What the fuck had Connor gotten himself into?
Why did he leave us with so much misery and grief?
Why did he have to die? Everything raises so many questions and I can’t go ask him.
Why didn’t he talk to me about all of this if he knew he was in danger?
Did he know he was in danger? My mind is racing with so many thoughts, and I feel overwhelmed.
I press my fists against my temples and let my head sink between my legs.
Kyler isn’t of much help with that fucking body and that smartass mouth.
It gets worse as he flexes his muscles. I can’t think about this.
My freaking husband got murdered almost three months ago and I’m drooling all over my ex-boyfriend, all the while my and my daughter’s lives are being threatened.
What the fuck am I doing?
Relaxing my fist, I rub my face, pressing my palms to my eyes to stop thinking.
But it’s just too much.
Connor. I keep replaying it in my head; why did they…? The tears won’t stop. And suddenly that’s the only thing which I seem to be capable of. I sob long, ugly cries.
The rustle of the door is audible, but still it sends a shiver through me as two muscular arms engulf me. “Lay, I’m so sorry.” His voice rasps. I press my nose into his shirt, grip the cotton between my fists.
“Why did they kill him, Ky? What do I have to tell Rebel when she asks?” Again, I sob.
“I left because I didn’t want this.” I gesture to my surroundings.
“Life should’ve been boring, without danger.
And none of those good shivers I’d get when we rode your motorcycle together.
Without the fire we—” I stop myself. “Safe,” I mumble.
Kyler sits next to me on the bed and pulls me against him. “I know, girl. He took the wrong job.”
“How do you know that?” I look up at him, meeting his familiar gray eyes.
He shrugs. “I assume. Connor wasn’t someone who would put you, or Rebel, in danger.”
“That’s not good enough.” I push myself closer to him.
“What isn’t, hun?”
“Assuming. I need to know for sure.” I give him an intense look. Despite being exhausted, I just want to know more. “Why won’t you tell me what you know?”
“Because I don’t know more than you, Layne.”
“Bullshit, we both know that. It’s clear as day you heard something about his employers.” I snort, holding his gaze.
“What do you know about his employers?” His tone is accusing. “My ‘damned club’ and I are sticking our necks out for you, and you don’t tell me everything as well.”
“I told you everything. What I heard, that I didn’t see shit and yeah, that’s it.
Because I don’t fucking know anything else, Ky.
Not who he worked for, or who the men in our house were.
I always thought he worked for an accountancy company, but now I’m doubting if he still worked there.
” My shoulders droop and I sigh. “Never mind, Kyler. I’m not in the mood for this. ”
I disappear into the bathroom, where I start the shower. My head throws me back into the past.
He puts a hand through his mid-length hair. “I’m gonna jump, Laynie.”
“Are you insane?” I yell and give Paxton a wide-eyed look, hoping he’ll say something, but nothing happens. “Did you see how high up we are?” I shout at Kyler.
That arrogant smirk makes an appearance. A couple of wayward hairs on his chin, which started to grow a couple of weeks ago. “It’s not that bad.”
‘You could fall to your death if there’s a rock beneath the surface.” My hands are sweaty and my eyes are bulging. Kyler never listens to me, why would he start now?
“I trust you to deliver a beautiful eulogy, Layne.” Then he makes a dash for it and throws himself off the cliff.
My heart seems to stop when I hear the splash, and I don’t dare to look over the edge. I gasp for breath. He survived. Right? Everything’s alright, Layne.
It takes forever before I hear something, and by that time I convinced myself something’s wrong, but Paxton is still looking over the edge. There’s no sound from him; only his stare.
Suddenly water is sloshing and Pax yells. “Oh, yeah!” When he turns to me, he says: “He did it, Layne. He fucking did it.”
It was always so easy between us, like breathing.
I cast the memory from my head and rinse my hair.
When I step out of the shower cabin, there’s a T-shirt and boxer briefs from Kyler ready for me.
My heart skips a beat at the gesture. I want nothing more than to just think of him as an asshole, but how can I when he does nothing but help? I hate it.
Silently I slide beneath the sheets, ignoring Kyler, who’s on his side beside me, and it doesn’t take much to fall asleep, surrounded by Kyler’s spicy scent and his warmth against my back.
With a jolt, I sit upright. For a moment, I’m disoriented until the events of yesterday invade my memory. Listening to the shower running, I gaze blankly at the gray wall.
Rebel.
As fast as I can, I throw the blankets off me and jump out of the bed. I dash to the living room, searching. My breathing falters and my heartbeat’s ringing in my ears.
Where’s Rebel?
A crumpled blanket lies on the back of the sofa and on the other seat is a pillow, but my daughter is nowhere to be seen.
When my gaze slides to the kitchen, I find her familiar blond hair at the breakfast bar. I blow out a breath. Thank Christ. I rush toward her and pull her in my arms.
“Hi, Mom,” she chuckles, sipping her milk. “I wanted to come wake you up in a minute, because I gotta go to school soon.”
Suddenly, the bathroom door opens, which causes a chill to go down my spine. A couple of seconds later, Kyler appears in the living room.
“Be right back,” I tell Rebel and press a kiss on her hair.
“Mom, my breakfast?”
I put a finger up, and walk toward Kyler, whom I pull into the bedroom by his elbow. “She thinks she can go to school, Ky. What should I say? She isn’t safe in school.” My heart beats erratically, and I have no clue why I ask him the question, because I know this is a bad idea.
“Brooks is driving her to school because you can’t go with her. I called this morning. It’s already settled.”
“What the fuck? No, Kyler. She isn’t going to school without safety precautions!
What if they try to kidnap her to get to me?
You told me yourself, we can’t go home, but you sent my daughter to school, just like that?
” I punch his chest, which sends a jolt of pain through my hand.
Shit. I shake it to get rid of the feeling.
“You know her teacher, right?” He seems completely unaffected by my action, just looks at me questioningly.
“Mrs. Paisley? Yes, of course.” I nod, but don’t understand what he’s getting at.
“Paisley?” It’s a question with a tone that implies the name is a dead giveaway.
I shrug, frustrated, and nod.
Kyler rolls his eyes at me. “You don’t know what Brooks’ last name is, do you?” He flops down on the bed, which causes his towel to slide down, and my eyes involuntarily follow.
“I was never interested in Ballistic’s last name, or Ash’s or anyone at the MC. You were the only one I was interested in.” I blow a strand out of my face.
“Jen is Brooks’ old lady, Layne. If there’s anything remotely suspicious at the school, we know it in seconds. Brooks takes her, but he picks her up as well. Jen will not give Rebel to a random person, except for him. Or one of us, of course.” He points at himself and me.
“What if someone armed enters the classroom before the teacher spots these people?” I refuse to call her Jen.
“Do you really think that armed men would enter a classroom full of children with no one noticing? Jen always carries a weapon, and the principal has been informed of the situation.”
What have they done? Informed the principal? My daughter is in real danger, damn it!
Without thinking, I follow him. “Hey, seriously. What if someone—”
As his towel lands on the floor, I find myself unable to look away from the view. Shit, shit, shit. No, Layne, you can’t… Quickly, I avert my gaze to his face. I didn’t just take a peek at his crotch. Really, really, really didn’t. I shake my head. This is the second time he’s flashed me, damn him.
“That will not happen.” He tilts his head.
I’m momentarily stunned, faced with the full-frontal reality of his naked glory. “It can’t happen. If something happens to Rebel—”
“A single scratch on Rebel will be the last mistake that person ever makes.” Kyler’s voice is void of emotion.
“The last?”
He nods while pulling up his briefs. Then puts on his shirt.
And I just stand there. There’s an internal struggle between my better nature and my baser instincts.
The good one screams you can’t kill people.
That it’s not normal how Kyler talks about it: as if it’s just another task.
Like doing errands or going to the bathroom.
But my bad self screams “hell yeah”. If someone comes after Rebel, I will shoot them in the head or heart myself. Just to know for sure they’re dead.
Both options guarantee that someone comes out on the losing end.
When Kyler turns around, he collides with me. “You’re still here. Do you find it intriguing to observe me changing outfits?” Again he tilts his head and runs his hand over his dark-blond hair, then lets it slide further into his beard. Meanwhile, he’s taking me in.
I shake my head, to make myself think of something other than where else that hand might go. Then I put mine on my hip, roll my eyes, and storm into the living room. “Breakfast,” I mutter, and head to the kitchen, rummaging in all the cupboards for something Rebel can eat.
During her breakfast, I tell her that something happened yesterday before we came to get her, so I have to sort some things out. “So Kyler has arranged for Mrs. Paisley’s husband to take you to school, okay?”
“I don’t know that man at all,” she whispers as she finishes eating.
“I know, baby girl.” I cringe. “I’ll walk with you, okay? It’s very important that you go with him.”
“Why can’t you come with me, Mom?” My fucking heart breaks at that question and I exhale deeply. “Is it because of Dad?”
With wide eyes, I look up. “Oh god, no.” The words turn sour when I’ve spoken them. I don’t want to lie to her. “Not because of Daddy, Reb.”
“Because of those men who took Dad… who took Dad?” A sob escapes her throat, and she wipes her fingers under her eyes.
Immediately, I grab her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Yes,” I whisper, “but we’re going to fix it, okay?”
She finally nods, and a watery smile appears on her face. “Okay, Mom.”
I stand up and extend my hand to her. “Are you coming?”
Together we walk down the stairs to where Brooks parked his truck at the gate. He’s behind the wheel and in the back is a boy a little older than Rebel.
“Hey, Laylay,” Brooks says around the cigarette between his lips and focuses that icy blue gaze of his on me, “Long time no see.”
My lips press together, and I nod. “I understand you’re taking my daughter to school?”
“Hello little lady,” he says to Rebel, ignoring my question. “Brandon’s already in the back. Slide in next to him and I’ll drop you off.”
Rebel wraps her arms around my neck, and I give her a kiss. I open the back door and say, “Hey, Brandon, this is Rebel. Can she sit next to you?”
The kid shrugs. “Fine.”
Rebel is quiet as she slides into the back seat and puts on her seat belt.
“Have a nice day, honey. See you later, okay?” I squeeze her hand again and press another kiss to her temple. “Love you.”
My seven-year-old nods with tears in her eyes.
“Hey,” Brandon says to her. “What grade are you in?”
“Three,” she whispers.
“Cool, I’m in fourth. Let me know if anyone bothers you during recess, alright?” He grins at her. “You’re one of us now.”
Rebel nods and I close the car door.
“Everything will be alright, Layne,” Brooks mutters and I turn to him.
“Make sure she gets back safely.”
He nods and then drives off.
I watch them until I can no longer see the truck, then go back upstairs.
“I’ve gotta go.” Kyler shrugs on his cut as I come in. “I can pick up some stuff at your house later. If you make a list for me, I’ll get it.” He directs a questioning look at me, with a deep frown on his forehead. That wrinkle wasn’t there when he was sixteen.
I’m definitely not going to cry. I bite my lip so hard that a twinge of pain shoots through it and I nod.
“Layne…” His voice is full of pity as he approaches.
I shake my head. If he acts like that, I’m definitely going to cry and I don’t want to… A tear trickles down my cheek. Damn it. His big, tattooed arms come around me and I press my nose against his chest.
“When I’m alone, I’m going to over-analyze everything,” I whisper.
“There’re books next to my bed, if that helps.
I really have to go. His voice is a low hum in his chest. I want to put my ear to it and listen to it all day.
In a strange way, it’s soothing, but unfortunately, he slowly lets go of me.
“Make that list, Lay.” He presses a kiss to my forehead and disappears through the door.
I stare at the closed door as if it’s my worst enemy. Then I shake it off and survey the apartment. Slowly, I wipe the tears from my cheeks. There’s nothing to do but get comfortable with Kyler’s stuff. Everything feels strange and intimidating; I find myself sitting on the edge of my chair.
A picture frame next to the TV catches my eye and I carefully walk toward it. The closer I get, the faster my heart beats.
There, on the television cabinet, in a black wooden frame, is a picture of a seventeen-year-old me with a wide grin on her face.
Next to her is a seventeen-year-old Kyler, pressing a kiss to my temple.
A sharp pain pierces my heart, and I sink to the floor in front of the cupboard.
After a few moments, my shoulders start to shake.