by KL Donn
Wandering to the checkout, I pay for my items, stop at a burger joint on the way home, and prepare for a night filled with all the laughs I can handle as I anticipate an Adam Sandler movie marathon.
Pulling up to the house, the sky is no longer bright, and all I have is the streetlights for ambiance. I must have forgotten to turn the porch light on before I left.
Unlocking the front door, I close it and engage the locks. Heading to the kitchen in the dark because my hands are full of bags, it’s not until I place everything on the counter that I sense something is wrong.
Hitting the light switch, nothing happens. My paranoia returns full force. Panic attempts to swoop in and take control, but I know I can’t let that happen. Reaching for my purse, I pull out my cell phone and walk around the house, checking the locks on the windows and doors while dialing the one person I know I can trust most.
“Evie.” His voice is filled with pleasure and relief.
“Foster.” My chin wobbles and tears hover in my eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Something’s happening. I went to the store, and now, the lights aren’t working at home. Everything was locked. There’s nothing out of place. What do I do?” I’m on the verge of a complete breakdown.
“Take a breath. You checked the windows?”
I nod, but he can’t see me. “Yes, everything is how I left it.”
“Carefully, move to the front door, look out the closest window and tell me what you see.” He’s so damn calm.
“Foster, I’m scared.” I hesitate to slide the curtain back because I don’t want to know if someone’s there.
“I know you are, baby, but I need you to look outside. Tell me everything you see.”
Taking a deep breath, I scan the surroundings. “Nothing, nothing’s out of place. I checked before I left. Everything is the same.”
“Look again, Everett. Something is different. Take a deep breath and listen to my voice. I’m here. I’ll help you, but you have to concentrate.”
“Okay, okay.” Scanning the area again, I slow my wandering eyes to catch anything that's different than before I left. “There’s an SUV that wasn’t here before. Three houses up and across the street.”
“Good. Are the windows tinted? Even the front ones.”
“Yes. I can’t see inside.” Leaning back against the door, I try to control my rapid breathing, but I can barely focus.
“Listen to me, Evie. Nix is calling the police. There are three units coming right now, but I need for you to hide. Do you have an attic?”
“Attic?” I barely heard anything he said.
“Yes, an attic. A crawl space, anything.”
Blinking rapidly, I try to focus. “Uh, yes, I think so.”
“Go there. Right now. Get into a corner near a window and stay down. Hide however you have to.”
Putting the phone in my pocket, I rush for the stairs to the attic and thank my stars that Mom keeps everything, and I have plenty of places to hide. As soon as I pull the stairs down, I hear the locks in the front door disengaging.
“Oh God,” I whimper as I climb and then pull the stairs back up quietly, praying the intruders have no idea where I am or that the cops get here soon.
It’s not until I’m walking across a beam that I hear the loose floorboard by the front door being stepped on and pause as I’m at the lone window on the side of the house and squat down behind a dresser.
“Foster?” I whisper as I put the phone to my ear. “They’re inside. What do I do now?”
“Can you hide inside anything?” Frowning, I look around and see a weathered trunk that used to hold my old dance costumes. I donated them over a year ago.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Okay, I want you to open the window and then go hide inside whatever you found.” Open the window? I don’t understand, but I do as he says. Contorting myself into the trunk isn’t easy, and it’s cramped, but I do it.
“I’m in,” I mutter as I listen to whoever is downstairs moving around. They aren’t trying to mask their presence any longer.
“Good. There's a possibility that they come up there, Evie. They might find you.”
“Oh God. Foster, what do I do?” My body is shivering; I can’t go through this again.
“Listen to me, Everett. I need your mind to remain clear. The police will be there in two minutes, your intruders can likely hear the sirens now. But Ev, if they find you, I need you to scream until you lose your voice. You wake up every neighbor on your block. You make people take notice of what’s happening to you.”
“Foster, I’m scared.”
“I’m coming, Evie. I will find you.”
Before I can say anything, I hear the attic stairs being pulled down. “They’re coming.”
“Listen, lock your phone’s screen, and put it in your pocket so the mouthpiece is facing away from your thigh. I’ll listen as long as I can. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Hang on, Everett. Just fucking hang on.” I do as he says, hold my breath, and wait for whatever fate's about to hand me.
6
Foster
Seeing red and flying somewhere across the U.S.A.
“I don’t give a fuck. Get as many units to her house as you can!” Nix shouts into the phone before hanging up. “Some days, I really miss those old rotary phones so you can slam the fucking receiver down. Let people know how damn pissed you are.”
“Pretty sure they got that sentiment the last time you threatened to sew their junk to their scrotums, man,” Theo jokes, but I can see it in his eyes, he’s livid.
We’ve never had to go back and rescue someone that we’ve already brought home. I can barely form a thought to express my own rage over the situation. As soon as Everett called, I knew there was something wrong. With the way she’s been avoiding me, no way she’s just gonna up and call without reason.
Once my name passed her lips, I had Nix on the phone to the local police, and Weston was getting a flight plan together while Theo and Ryder were gathering weapons we don’t even know if we’ll need.
When Nix first told us we had a late-night training session, we’d all bitched about it. Now, I couldn’t be more grateful. Even with my ribs stinging like a motherfucker, I wasn’t willing to stay behind. Evie needs me, and I’ll damn well be there.
“Hey, man.” Weston and Ryder sit across from me on our private jet. I nod to them. “What are you thinking?”
“Thinking?” I bark, my outrage not aimed at them but at how fucking far away from Everett I am. “I’m thinking that I should have made her come back here. I’m thinking this cartel isn’t fucking done with Van, and she’s nothing more than a casualty of a fucking drug war she knows nothing about.”
Rumors have spread wildly for years that the majority of the cartels in Mexico, Central America, and South America procure their drugs from the United States government. It’s believed that we sell to them, or vice versa, in order to keep all countries invested in drugs, money, and weapons.
I’m not sure where I fall on the believability factor, but I do know innocent lives are lost every day because one person gets greedy and tries to rip off another.
If I had my guess, and any of the rumors were true, that’s exactly what Van did. Or someone close to him. Even as Director of the CIA, he’s in control of the operations and using him to get what they want is an ideal situation. Except they likely didn’t anticipate his lack of humanity towards his child. Or that he’d call in some favors and send a hit squad to take them out.
If it weren’t for me, we probably would have blown that fucking compound to the ground. There wouldn’t have been anyone left when I was finished with them. But I saw inside of Everett’s soul from that single DMV picture and had to be the one to go in and grab her.
“I’m thinking a trip to Mexico is needed with a few pounds of C-4,” I tell them. I see the look they share, and I know neither is against the idea. Not after seeing how torn
up Everett was when we pulled her out. “I’m also thinking it’s time to dig way deeper into Van Gaines and anyone who works directly under him.”
“Got it.” Ryder agrees and gets up to grab his laptop and begin working.
“You’re not really going to start some war with the cartels, are you?” Weston asks.
“You don’t start wars when the other players are blown to Kingdom Come, West.”
“Touché brother, touché.”
Ordinarily, four and a half hours doesn’t seem like very long.
Unless you’re in danger of losing the one person in the world who could become everything to you.
Then it’s a fucking eternity.
So, what else is a guy to do but plot the deaths of any man who helped ruin his woman’s life? With a pen and paper in hand, I retrieve the topical satellite view of the compound we infiltrated and see that my previous bombs did their fair share damage. But more can be done.
More will be done.
Until the entire building is nothing but ashes covering the ground.
“Landing in five,” Theo calls, and I look up.
“Shit. You’re going to put a hole in the earth, man.” West laughs and looks slightly worried about my drawings.
“At least, they’ll be sucked down it.”
“You gonna be alright, Chaos? Never seen you so explosive before.”
“I’m fine, West. These bastards deserve everything I shell out and more.” The more would be making the assholes blow themselves up.
Everett
Hiding somewhere.
Sirens. Flashing lights. Angry voices.
It’s an unsettling mixture of all the things I fear.
Anxiety and terror hold me captive as I watch what’s happening below my house, but I can’t bring myself to call out or make my presence known. I want to hide from the world forever.
Realistically, I know, I can’t do that. I need to get up. It’s been hours since the police arrived. The problem is that before the people who broke into my house took off, I heard one of them say their police contact could find out where I went.
Dirty cops? No thanks. As in full-on hard no. Negative. Not happening. I can’t trust anyone but Foster, and I screwed things up with him so badly that I can’t ask him for a damn thing.
After the intruders left, I climbed out the small attic window and straight up to the roof. I knew nobody would look up here for me. And I was right. But now, I’m freezing cold, and the wind is picking up. The authorities don’t appear like they’re leaving any time soon, and if I hadn’t lost my phone somewhere between the trunk and here, I’d call Foster back.
Screeching tires draw my attention, and I sit up a bit, looking beyond the chimney stack that I’ve been hiding behind. A large SUV rolls to a stop across the street, partially onto Mrs. Baxter’s lawn—she’s going to be so mad—and I see five huge men exit the vehicle.
After first, a chill runs down my spine because who else would be here but the cartel? And then one man walks under the streetlight, and I realize I recognize him. Weston something. He’s Foster's friend.
“Where the hell is she?” Foster’s voice registers, and the anger in his tone is palpable. Seeing him storm towards the officers who appear to just be standing around, he gets into the face of one man and begins yelling.
I don’t hear much of what’s said because blood is rushing through my ears, and everything sounds like a waterfall when you’re too close.
“Everett fucking Gaines, show you’re damn face!” I hear the absolute agony in his tone. He doesn’t want me to have been taken.
Standing on wobbly legs, I wave my arms. “Foster!” His head whips around until he sees me, and the intensity in his gaze, even from here, shakes me to my core. My feet slip, and suddenly, I’m sliding down the slope of the roof, screaming.
“Hang on!” I hear him say, but I feel a nail being ripped off as I try to grasp anything to stop my descent. I catch onto the gutter as I skip over the edge, and even though Mom's house is a single-story bungalow, I’m still up a few feet in the air and terrified.
“I got you,” Foster says as I feel his hands on my calves. “Let go.”
My fingers ache to do as he asks, but terror holds me in place. “I can’t.”
“I’ll catch you.”
“What if you don’t?”
“Evie.” He sounds frustrated. “I promise, you’re safe with me.”
“I’m not safe, Foster. I’ll never be safe.” The words pass my lips, and I let go, trusting he’ll catch me as I fall.
He collapses as he latches onto me and begins cursing worse than any man I’ve heard before. “I’m sorry,” I whisper as I try to roll off of him.
“Don’t fucking move,” he snaps, and I freeze, unsure of what’s happening.
“Shit, man. You okay?” Weston hovers over us, his face a hard mask of concern for his friend.
“What the fuck do you think, asshole?” Pain laces each of Foster’s words, and it’s then I remember his text from the other day.
“You're hurt. Did I make it worse?” I want to turn and look at him. Trying to gauge the reaction in his eyes, but he won’t allow me to move.
“I’m fine. Just stop wiggling.”
Weston grins at his friend’s response and turns around to where their other buddies are. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. Grumpy asshole.”
I lay on top of Foster, listening to the sounds of people around us, but as I close my eyes, I concentrate on the way he makes me feel. Safe, protected, like nothing in the world can get to me if only I stay in his arms. A feeling I shouldn’t get used to. I can’t get used to. He lives across the country, and there’s no way I can ask him to be my shelter.
“Relax, Everett.” His groaned words are quiet in my ear. “Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I’m fine.” His hold loosens.
“Why the hell were you on the roof, then?” He rolls us so that he’s lying on top of me now, and memories of our night come flooding back. “I almost forgot how good this feels,” he comments as he lowers his head, our lips just a whisper apart.
“Please don’t,” I beg him. I don’t want the feelings to return. I don’t want to have to get over the heartbreak again.
“Why not?” He frowns.
I match his expression. “Because neither of us is equipped for it to go further.” A storm brews in his blue eyes, and I shrink back from him.
“I don’t know where you were that night, but baby, that wasn’t a one and done kind of night.” Anger laces his words. “But I’ll give you space.” He stands. “For now.”
Foster reaches down a hand for me to grab, and as soon as I touch him, I’m shocked by the connection between us. As he helps me to my feet, I see his wince and wonder again about his injury, but I can’t ask. I just put a wall between us. One that I can’t break.
“Care to explain why you were on the roof now?” He hasn’t let go of my hand as he walks me over to his team, and they all watch me, waiting on an answer.
“The men…the ones who broke in. I overheard them saying they had a contact in the police department. That whoever it was would help them find me.” Tears pool in my eyes over what could have happened. “I don’t understand why they’re coming for me. I don’t know who they are, let alone be able to press charges or share anything that could lead the police to them.”
Shivers begin to work through my body as all the horrible scenarios run through my mind. I already understand what may happen because it has. I've tried to move on. Work through my pain and begin my life over as this new woman.
I've tried to be stronger.
Their presence only makes me feel weaker.
“Hey.” I flinch as Foster wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his chest. He ignores it, though. “No one is going to touch you again. Not while there’s breath in my body.” I want to believe his vow.
“How do you feel about a trip back to West Virginia?” Nix asks, co
mpletely serious.
“I can’t just leave.”
“Sure, you can. You don’t have a job; nothing is holding you here,” another one of them says, and I can’t tell if he’s being condescending or bluntly honest.
“Shut up, Theo,” Foster seethes at him.
“What? Her Mom is hardly here, and you told us she doesn’t have a job or any real roots planted. Charleston is nice; plus, you can woo her more. Or maybe I will.” Theo’s eyes roam my body in a way meant to annoy Foster.
“Fuck. Off,” Foster growls, looking ready to pounce on his friend.
Foster
If I wasn’t so fond of my mouthy-ass friend, I’d whoop his ass and blow him away to Africa for the way he’s looking at Everett. Like she’s a piece of meat he wants to devour. Not that I blame him. Evie is a gorgeous woman. With curves for days and legs for miles, her green eyes capture a man’s soul.
But she’s fucking mine.
Even if I don’t know what we’re doing. I’m not going to let anyone else have her until we decide.
Like you haven’t already? Pesky inner voice interjects at the worst times.
I’ve done the betrayal and divorce, and I’m not really sure I’m up to it again. I know that Everett is miles apart from Tamara. They’re oil and water. The differences are plain to see. The problem is that I thought Mara and I had it all. We were in love, we were always solid, until I went away on deployments. I would be gone for months at a time, and each time I returned home, she would become more and more distant.
With what Everett has gone through, how the hell can I ask her to wait for me during each new mission? How can I expect her to be any more committed than my ex-wife ever was?
“Heads up.” Ryder’s voice breaks me from my tumultuous thoughts, and I turn around to see what he’s staring at.
“Ms. Gaines?” an officer calls as he and three other men round the house. I’m surprised it took them so long to follow us.
