Chapter 11
Eleven
As I descend the stairs, I notice Rebel jumping up and throwing her arms around Kyler’s neck.
He’s so surprised he doesn’t really respond.
My daughter presses a kiss on his cheek before landing with both feet back on the ground.
Frowning, I watch the whole thing happen.
A flash of color, and then she's upon me, her joyous arrival a burst of vibrant, overwhelming happiness.
“Can I eat over at Miss Paisley’s house, Mom?
” She comes to a stop in front of me and starts hopping up and down.
“Please, Mom.” With big brown eyes, she looks up at me.
“You already know Brooks, right? And Miss Paisley. I don’t see why I can’t go.
” She puts her hands at her sides. My daughter is getting a bit too sly.
She turns her hips, so she leans on one, making her look like a fifteen-year-old adolescent instead of a seven-year-old girl.
“Come on, Mom. It’s just food. Afterward, Brooks will bring me right back. Promise.”
“Hm, I don’t know.” I sigh and rub my forehead.
Her whole expression shifts, and I know she’s thinking about her father right now. Though she doesn’t reveal much about it, I can see it in the lines on her face. I know my daughter.
Rebel pouts and says, “It’s Brooks. One: he has a gun. Two: we can speed away on his motorcycle. And three: He’s got a gun.”
How on earth does she know he has a gun?
“Everyone here has one, Mom. You saw that, right?”
Did I say that out loud?
“Please, Mom? I just want to…” And there’s the pain on her pretty face again and her shoulders slump.
“Honey, I’m just worried, you know?” I pull her against me.
Tears trickle down her cheeks. “I just want to get away from here, Mommy.”
Ballistic joins us, blowing out smoke after a puff of his cigarette.
“Hey. I was thinking, maybe she can join us for dinner, play with Brandon for a while, and then I’ll take her back afterward.
That way you have some time to spend with Kyler…
” He casts a brief glance at Rebel. “You need clean clothes and things like that, I guess?” He raises a single brow.
My blood’s boiling. Why is that prick always so practical? I’ve never seen him show much emotion. Always with the practicality. It’s practical when you do this. We’ll get rid of all the problems if we off that prick. You need clean clothes.
How the hell does Rebel’s teacher live with him? How did they have kids? Okay, I actually know how you get kids, it’s just… I gesture with my hand from top to bottom at him.
“What about me, Laylay?” He takes a final drag and tosses the butt.
Holy fuck, what am I doing? “Nothing. Good idea. Rebel, you can have dinner at Miss Paisley’s,” I say through clenched jaws.
My daughter gives me a watery smile and then looks at Ballistic. “I get to come to dinner. I can show Brandon that girls aren’t dirty.”
He starts laughing, which is seriously the first time I’ve seen that happen. “Come, little one.”
Rebel wraps her arms around my waist. “See you later, Mom.”
I press a kiss on her head. “Have fun, honey.” Looking up at Ballistic, I narrow my eyes and point a pedantic finger at him. “If there’s even a hair out of place when she comes back…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Then you’ll have my balls.” He rolls his eyes.
“Just so you know.” I exhale deeply. Brooks and Rebel walk leisurely to his bike.
I startle when Kyler touches my arm. “How about I make us dinner before I pick up some stuff from your house?”
“I’m coming with you.” With a nod at him, I watch my daughter get on a motorcycle with a gang member, and my heart skips a beat.
This is totally against my principles, but I trust him more than any “normal” person from her school.
He fixes her helmet, fires up the bike, and she gives me a wave.
I wave back and as they leave the grounds, I walk up the stairs to the apartment.
“Layne, you can’t come with me,” Kyler grumbles. “We’ll make a list together and I’ll pick it up.”
Halfway up the stairs, I stop and look back at him. “I’m coming with you. I know exactly what Rebel needs, so I’m making sure you forget nothing.”
“Layne,” he says, all condescending.
“I’m serious, drop it.” With a sigh, I walk up the stairs. Now that Rebel’s safe with Ballistic, I have some time to gather the right stuff.
After dinner, Kyler grabs the empty plate from the coffee table. “Nothing’s going to happen to her. You know that, right?” A deep frown and the look on his face betrays his worry for me.
As I nod, I get up and take the bowl to the black kitchen counter. “Regardless, I put my little girl in the hands of a ruthless murderer.”
“Wow, that’s…” With wide eyes, he looks down at me. “The guy has a wife and son of his own, Lay. It’s not like he murders every person he comes across. And I think you know him as well as you do me.” He opens the dishwasher and puts the plates in there.
I close my eyes and sigh. “I do know that. Apart from the last part. Ballistic is…” How do I explain this to Kyler? After all, he’s his best friend. “…like Fort Knox.”
Kyler nods, keeps loading the dishwasher without a care, then bam—new subject. “Do you know what you need?”
I shrug as I wash my hands and dry them.
“A quiet evening to relax.” When he straightens, he reaches out to me, but retracts.
“Relax,” I mock. “Great idea. We’ve got all the time in the world for that, of course.
Fortunately, all is well in the world. After all, I’m just about to go to my own house to enjoy a good glass of wine.
” I rub my forehead. “Let’s go get that stuff first, since I’m apparently stuck here until you figure out who’s so eager to pluck me off the street. Are we going by truck?”
“Yeah, we can’t fit much on the bike.” He strides to the hall, where he grabs the keys from the tray that sits on the small table next to the door. Everything seems so homey and normal, but… I stare at the bowl.
“Lay?”
My whole world turned to shit in one go, and the one trying to fix it is Kyler. In which universe did I end up?
“Layne?”
I look up. He takes three steps back and puts two muscled arms around me. It’s like I’m being engulfed by him and before that happens, I push him away. I have to do this myself, without him.
“What’s wrong?” He puts a finger under my chin and demands I look up at him.
I shrug. “Everything’s turned to shit and you…” I point at him “…are trying to solve it.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He frowns.
Immediately I shake my head. “That’s not what I meant. My head kept telling me to leave, because being with you meant a lifetime of chaos and danger. And now…” My voice cracks, but by some miracle I keep it together.
“And now I’m the one who’s trying to break that so-called chain?”
I forgot how well he always understood me. With just a few words he knew what I wanted to say, something I always missed with Connor. With him I always had to explain what I meant, which regularly led to frustrations between us.
I nod, taking a step back. “Shall we go?”
“Layne, you were never in any danger with me. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way.” His voice sounds broken, his eyes on the floor.
I’m such a bitch. “No, it’s not…” Sighing, I rub my forehead. “Can we talk about this later? When we pick up my stuff and Rebel’s asleep in her own pajamas, and with her favorite stuffy, so she doesn’t feel as uprooted?”
He nods and opens the door for me.
The street is completely deserted when Kyler parks the truck in the driveway.
The only sound is the roar of the engine.
My house is illuminated by the headlights, and as soon as he turns off the engine and opens the door, it’s shrouded in darkness.
The only glow comes from the streetlights along the road and the small outdoor light above the door, which barely gives off any light.
“Let’s quickly gather your stuff and go.”
After he gets out, he closes the driver’s side door as softly as he can and strides to my front door. As fast as I can, I run after him and undo the lock, then we go inside. Before I even get to the hallway, he’s already practically sprinting up the stairs.
“Grab a bag for Rebel’s clothes. Does she have a favorite stuffy?”
I go into the hallway closet and take out three large shopping bags, with which I follow Kyler. “By the headboard, in the corner against the wall,” I call out to him.
“A dragon?”
“Yeah.” I set the bags down and rummage through the closet for random clothes. I hand Kyler the third bag and say, “Do you want to fill it with my underwear and some clothes?”
He disappears with a nod.
I load up as much as possible into the first bag, then I just throw the rest in the second one because I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone. Just as we come down the stairs with the bags, there’s a knock on the door.
Stiffening, I look wide-eyed at Kyler, who presses his index finger to his lips.
“Mrs. Hayes, I know you’re here.”
I recognize the voice as that of the soldier from earlier and a shiver slides down my spine. No, no, no. “It’s your truck,” I whisper to Kyler. “That guy knows nothing.”
“It’s better if you come with me, then we can sort this out,” someone says from behind the door.
“Sorting out as in put a bullet through your head, you mean, jerk.” Kyler’s words send even more chills down my spine. When his hand slides to his waistband, I close my eyes to make sure I don’t puke up my guts.
“Missy.” The voice becomes more menacing. “If you don’t open the door soon, I’ll let myself in.”
My eyes snap open, and see Kyler unclipping his gun’s magazine. “Fuck, what are we going to do?” I whisper to him. Panic crawling up my throat and making me feel as if I can’t breathe. My breath comes in short bursts.
His gaze goes to the side of the magazine, then he nods and slides it back into his Glock. “Let him come.”
What, let him come? No. No. My throat closes almost completely from fear and my voice squeaks as I ask, “What if he’s not alone?
” My hands tremble. To hide it, I wrap my arms around my waist. I’m too scared to peek around the corner.
What if he sees me? Maybe he’ll shoot me right in the head, like Kyler thinks he’s going to do.
I try to take a deep breath, close my eyes, and concentrate on that. Do not hyperventilate, come on.
My chest squeezes painfully and I can’t get in any air. I open my eyes and manage to suck in my breath. No. Stay calm. I place my trembling hand on my throat.
“Layne, honey, don’t panic.” Kyler grabs my arm while still holding his Glock firmly with his other hand.
Focusing on him is tough. The calm gray of his eyes eases the grip on my neck and I can finally catch something of a breath.
Right then, the glass shatters into the hallway, and I shrink down, bringing my arms in front of my head. My butt hits the step above me and I crawl against the wall.
Kyler’s hand slips off my arm and a heartbeat later the dull sound of gunfire reaches my ears. “Fuck, where is he?” Kyler’s voice.
With each shot, my body shakes.
I peek through my fingers and see Kyler getting his phone. He taps it frantically a few times and then puts the thing on the stairs. He fires another shot around the corner of the wall.
My heart pounds in my chest, panic returning in full force, and I make myself as small as I can. What do they want from me?
The door swings open, banging against the wall, and this time the bullets come our way.
Tears run down my cheeks as my heart almost seems to pop out of my chest. My hands are clammy and my fingers are trembling so hard I can feel it on my head, which I’m holding.
What if Kyler gets hit? What if I get hit? Oh my god, I’m going to die.
This is it.
Everything I was afraid of before is going to happen. I’m curled up on the stairs, crying and out of breath, waiting for it to happen.
“Get behind me, Layne.” Kyler’s fingers close around my upper arm and I’m pushed behind his broad shoulders. I immediately lower myself back down onto the step behind him, making myself as small as possible again.
How is this my life? Shit, shit, shit. Everything tingles and I tremble all over my body. I don’t even dare look through my fingers anymore.
“Mrs. Hayes, this makes no sense. If you would just—”
Kyler fires and a lot of swearing sounds. “Forget about it, dude. She’s not going anywhere with you.”
With a bang, I hear a bullet hit the wall behind me. My body shakes and I scream. “Shit, Ky. Please. I press the palms of my hands harder against my eyelids until I see white stars.
The click of a new magazine sounds close by and something falls with a thud on the stairs.
Shit, Kyler. Carefully I slide my middle finger and ring finger apart and peek.
As soon as I see his jeans-clad legs in front of me, relief races through me and I cover my eyes again.
Even before I really close them, another click sounds.
Then two shots that are definitely coming from Kyler. Please make it stop. I’ll do anything.
I don’t even believe in God, but I swear I’ll pray every day if this stops.