Chapter 42
Forty-Two
“Are you happy that you can sleep in your own bedroom tonight, Shorts?” I look up at Rebel and chew on my steak.
She shrugs her slender shoulders. “Yes, and no.”
“Yes, and no?” I tilt my head and scrape my fork over my plate.
“I don’t really care,” she mumbles.
I frown at Layne, but she seems concerned about her daughter as well. To be honest, I wonder if this has anything to do with the kidnapping, but I don’t really pursue it. All I say is, “At least you and your mom are safe now.”
She just shrugs her shoulders, but says nothing else. It’s clear that something’s bothering her, but who am I to ask? I decide to leave her be and finish my dinner. “I have to be at Pax's at seven-thirty, and I’m guessing it’s going to be a long night.”
Layne gets up from her chair and takes my plate to the kitchen counter. “Okay, good to know. Will you be coming by tomorrow?” She looks at me questioningly, and an uncomfortable feeling settles in my stomach.
“I’m going upstairs,” Rebel announces. “Kyler, can you come up before you leave?” Her dark-brown eyes bore into my face.
“Yeah, sure, Shorts,” I say, confused. These two women…
As soon as Rebel has gone upstairs, I get up and walk over to Layne. “Honey, I thought…” I rub my forehead. “Fuck, Layne. Yesterday… I thought I was clear.”
“You were. I just find it hard to imagine.” She focuses her attention on the dishes in front of her and starts moving things around.
I move behind her and put my arms around her waist. “I love you, Layne, and if it’s up to me, I’ll come over as soon as I’ve done my duties for the club. If all goes well, I’ll have a few days off soon, and then I want to move my things, if that’s okay with you.” I rest my chin on her shoulder.
She nods. “Of course it’s okay with me.” She turns around, forcing me to lift my head, and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Okay.” I squeeze my arms around her. “I’m going to check on your daughter now.”
Suddenly, she presses her lips to mine. “I love you too,” she whispers.
With a grin on my face, I walk up the stairs.
I gently knock on Rebel’s door and wait for her to call me inside.
When I open the door, I’m met by a soft-pink bedroom with white accents.
The light-gray carpet from the hallway runs into the room.
My eyes go to her neatly made bed, but she’s not there.
In the corner of the room, an egg-shaped wicker chair hangs from a hook in the ceiling.
Fairy lights wrap around the edge, casting a soft glow on her sad face.
Rebel’s legs are tucked under her, and she’s holding a book in her lap.
“Hey, Shorts,” I say softly and close the door behind me. Rebel slams her book shut, and a grimace appears on her face. I point to her desk chair. “May I?”
After she nods, I sit down with the backrest in front of my chest. “What’s bothering you?”
Rebel stares out the window toward the street. It’s still early, so the sun’s still up. “Do you love Mom?”
Okay, didn’t see that one coming, but I automatically answer, “Yes.” I take a deep breath and slide a little closer to her. “And I love you too, Shorts. You don’t have to—”
“I know,” she interrupts me. “Or at least, you’re nice to me.
” Her gaze is that of a girl who’s been through too much, seen too much.
As if she’s lived a thousand lives and watched her entire childhood pass before her eyes.
A look that cuts me to the core. Everything Layne was afraid of, this girl has experienced.
“Dad loved Mom,” she whispers. “At least I always thought so, Kyler. He held Mom’s hand when we went out to dinner. He gave her hugs and kisses, and yet…” Her voice trails off, trembling.
“And yet what, Shorts?” I grab the chair so she’s facing me.
Her eyes glisten in the soft light, as if she’s about to cry. “Why did he die? Why did those men come? Why’s Brandon’s mom dead, Kyler? Is it all Dad’s fault?”
I jump up from the desk chair and crouch down in front of her. “Oh God, Rebel, no.”
“No?” She looks up at me from under her thick eyelashes.
“No, it’s not all your dad’s fault.” I grab her hands.
“Not all of it?”
Fuck, wrong choice of words. “Rebel, your dad made a mistake. One that turned out to have serious consequences, but it wasn’t his fault. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, Shorts.” I rub my thumbs over the tops of her hands.
“But it’s still Dad’s fault.” Her lips form a thin line.
I glance briefly at the ceiling. Can someone help me out here? How on earth do I explain this to a seven-year-old girl?
“Fault is a strongly worded term. Yes, it was your father’s mistake, but he didn’t know beforehand. He didn’t intend for himself to die or for those men to come after your mother and you.”
“How’d you know that?” Her dark-brown eyes are serious.
I take a deep breath. “Before you were born, I knew your dad, Rebel. And he really loved your mom, and I dare say he would never have wanted to put you in danger. I’m convinced that your dad just made a big mistake, one that anyone could’ve made.”
She nods briefly. “Is it our fault that Brandon’s mom died?”
“No.” I blurt out immediately. “No, Shorts, those evil men are to blame.” I tug on her arms, pulling her forward a little so I can hug her. “It’s all those men’s fault. Your dad loved you and Mom, you have to remember that, okay?”
“Okay.” Tears roll down her cheeks.
“Let’s bury your dad tomorrow. Is that okay with you?” I stare into her eyes, hoping that this idea I came up with in the spur of the moment will be what I hope it’ll be.
“We can’t,” she mumbles.
“No, that’s true, but the three of us can go to a place and do something to remember him. Is that okay?”
She throws her arms around my neck and nods. “Thank you, Kyler,” she whispers.
“Is it okay if I come live with you, Rebel?” I squeeze my eyes shut and hold her close.
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbles. “Yes, of course,” she says after a few seconds when I don’t let go of her.
I lower my arms. “If there’s ever anything you wanna talk about, you can always come to me. I’ll always be there for you, you hear me?” She nods and I kiss her hair. “See you later, Shorts.”
A smile creeps onto her face. “Later, Ky.”
Layne’s still in the kitchen. I walk over to her and kiss her hair too. “I think you need to reminisce about Connor with Rebel.”
She looks up at me. “What makes you say that?”
I let her go, grab my cut from the chair. “She asked some questions. Just do it. I gotta go. Turn on the alarm when you go to bed. I know the code.” I kiss her and then leave to meet my little brother.
I’m ten minutes late because of my conversation with Rebel. The others already started, and I join them as soon as I arrive.
A large sheet of paper lies on the table, the words office vanderberg scrawled boldly in the center. A thick line connects it to a circle labeled little activity. I tune in as Pax begins to speak.
“We’ve been watching all day,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. “Barely anyone’s going in or out. Vanderberg’s definitely inside—we’ve spotted him through the window a few times. Two guys entered earlier, and there are two security guards doing perimeter rounds every four hours.”
He sets the paper aside and unfolds a detailed A3 map, probably printed by Colt.
“They stick to this path,” Pax explains, tracing a route across the page with his finger. “No visible weapons, but let’s be real—they’re packing.” Everyone nods in agreement. For once, this actually feels like progress. We might finally get our shot at him.
I glance at Colt. “Any cameras inside?”
He shakes his head. “None. Not even an internal system I couldn’t access. Just… nothing. All I’ve got are a few grainy clips from the traffic cams.” He shifts his tongue against the piercings in his lower lip, clearly frustrated.
“Fuck.” I rub my forehead between my thumb and forefinger. “Still… it’s a lot more than we had.”
“I want to go tonight,” Brooks blurts. His voice is flat, fists clenched tight at his sides.
I believe we’ve got a real chance—and Brooks needs this. We’ve gathered enough intel. “I want Ash with us. If I get a thumbs up from Dad, you all in?” I glance around. Everyone nods.
“Good.” I reach for my phone. “I’ll make the call. Gear up.”
I step outside with my phone, call my father, and tell him what’s going on. Within ten minutes, I’ve got his permission.
Right after that, I call Ash. “Can you be at the gate of the compound in ten minutes? We’re going on a mission to Vanderberg. I think you need to be there for your brother.”
His only answer is, “I’m on my way.”