by Emily Bowie
“Kiptyn has been the one responsible for all your kidnapping attempts recently. The first time, he was hired by the Guarantor to hold you hostage, so your father would pay the ransom. If that didn’t work, he was ordered to kill you.”
I hear his words, but they refuse to register. Kiptyn would never hurt me.
“He’s a paid killer. He wouldn’t think twice about hurting you,” Noah answers my thoughts. Opening my eyes, I see pity. Noah gives this look to other people, but never to me.
A knock on the door has both our attention being taken away from each other.
“Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, Ms. Dare.” A blue uniform walks in. My breath holds, waiting for Van to step in. When the two officers come to my bedside, I have to crane my neck upward to look at them.
“We have a few questions to ask about Kiptyn McGrath. We believe he’s tried multiple times to kidnap or possibly even kill you.”
They look to Noah then to me. “These questions may be sensitive. You may want to be alone when answering them.”
I hear Noah growl at them, “My fiancée and I hold no secrets.”
My body freezes, and they nod. “Congratulations. But this is Ms. Dare’s decision.”
My breath is caught up in my throat, scratching at it like my voice. Noah hands me a glass of water, sensing my internal freak-out.
“You don’t have to talk to them, Kellie.”
Gulping half the cup down, I respond, “It’s fine, Noah,” with a forced smile.
The cops jump on the chance, not waiting for me to change my mind. “When was your first interaction with McGrath?”
“I don’t see how this is relevant, but when I was sixteen years old.”
“How would you describe your relationship?” I have three pairs of eyes on me. Picking up the water, I finish it.
“He was my friend in a world that didn’t allow for real friendships.”
“Was your relationship physical?”
“He started to play his head games shortly after they formed their friendship,” Noah cuts in, making me glare at him.
“It started out only as friends. Only after I turned eighteen, it became more.”
“Do you still talk to him?”
“No.”
They hold out a picture of me at the club talking to Kiptyn. “This isn’t you talking to him?”
The machines in my room start to beep faster as my heart accelerates. I don’t know how to answer this. My image will never recover if the public learns I’ve done drugs, my squeaky-clean image being ruined forever.
Am I going to be under arrest for talking to a fugitive? The possible press headlines scream at me, making my head pound.
“Kellie, this is important. This man has been hired to kill you,” Noah scolds.
“That was the first time I talked to him in six-plus years.” I sigh.
“Has he tried to reach out to you before now?” one of the cops asks.
“I saw him four years ago at one of my concerts, and I’m pretty sure I saw his shadow in Three Rivers less than a year ago.”
Shock is written all over Noah’s face, and the way his fists clench doesn’t go unnoticed by me.
“Why were you there?” Noah asks me.
“Camilla and I went there one night to see Rhett Steele.” I shrug.
“You saw him with Rhett Steele?” one of the cops clarifies.
Behind my eyes is a rhythmic push that is felt clearly and painfully. My hands rub at my eyes and head in general.
“No. They don’t know each other.” My hand can feel the pulsing in my head, and I need everyone to stop talking. “Can we be done? My head is killing me right now.”
*
I’m still stuck in the same hospital room. My legs vibrate, feeling like they need to move, walk around. The small room clings to my chest like a weight, and I have to fight the urge to run out. My phone does a half vibrate once again in my hand, my fingers pressing down on the Ignore button and silencing the call. I feel like a complete bitch doing this to Camilla. My life is too much for me right now. I can’t make sense of anything, and I’m scared if I open my mouth to try, she will know, and I will break. Looking around the room, Noah is sleeping on the small wooden bench attached to the wall.
There are no machines attached to me any longer, and my headache seems to have disappeared. I’m not even sure why I’m still here other than Noah being paranoid that I’m hurt. Besides a small bump on my head, I’m fine.
Slowly, I try to stand, not wanting to make a sound. Sitting on the small gray tray that stands at hip level is a newspaper, with a headline of Noah’s and my engagement. My stomach rolls with the anxiety of the lies printed.
Walking lightly, I go to the door to see what looks like another cop sitting on a chair by my door. Holding my breath, I peer around to see he’s fallen asleep. No staff is near, and I slip out, walking as normal as possible as I head toward the elevators.
As the elevator door opens, I look back to my room, wishing Noah would understand. But he never has, blaming Kiptyn as the reason why I can’t love him back. As the reason I’m always comparing him to my father.
Keeping my head down in hopes no one will notice me, I wave to the first cab I see, jumping in.
“Where to?”
CHAPTER 44
Across from me is most of the Fallen Saints MC. They stand around the hole in the dirt, showing their respects for Russ. It’s the only reason all their guns on me are concealed. I make one wrong move, and I’ll have a wall of bullets sprayed on me.
Russ’s funeral is the only thing keeping me in town this long. It serves as a reminder I no longer belong. When I first came back here, I thought Three Rivers would lift me up, give me that sense of belonging, but it does the opposite.
I watch my mentor and best friend being lowered into the ground. Every face is cold; no one is crying or looking upset. There are no flowers present, making the already gloomy day seem darker.
Bear, the VP, hangs back after the service, stepping in line with me.
“Tell Pres he can have it all. Meet me at the mansion in two weeks. It’ll take me that long to get all the property documents ready to transfer.”
If he’s shocked, he doesn’t show it. He gives me a curt nod, heading to his bike.
Nothing here is the same, including the bar I once loved. It’s falling in on itself, my people no longer there for me. Everything is empty.
Using the backroads, I take my bike out, going by my old home. My bike stops in front, idling as I sit there and stare at the place that housed my childhood. But even it, I no longer recognize. It looks like someone fixed it up. It looks pretty damn good, all painted with real flowers in the front flower bed. It never looked this charming when I lived in it.
I ride around, my helmet hiding my face. I’d rather not use one, but I can’t chance being recognized. The wind blowing against me, the vibrations under my hands, are the only things that give some type of comfort. This feeling is what I would revert to when I had nowhere else to go to clear my mind. Mindless silence. I come up to a large ranch and place my bike just to the side of the bush before I walk down the long driveway.
Music softly plays through the air; I can hear a kid screaming and a baby crying in the distance. All foreign sounds to me. I walk around the property, watching from afar. Out comes a family with a small child, who’s squealing as it chases a dog in circles. A small boy comes up carrying a bird of sorts, maybe a hen.
It looks like a sitcom of a loving, happy family. It’s a far cry from how I grew up.
“What the hell you doing, woman?” The voice breaks my attention from the kids to a man who looks frustrated at a very pregnant woman. “I told you, you’re too pregnant to be doing all that. Sit your sexy ass down and let me do it,” he scolds her, but there’s no malice in his words.
She smiles up at him, as he comes and plants a big kiss on her, gaining the children’s attention as they start yelling “gross.” It onl
y eggs him on, grabbing her ass and deepening the kiss.
She turns her head just enough for me to get a good view of her face. My cousin looks like she’s about to pop out a kid any day now. I didn’t even know she was pregnant. Jealousy hits me right in the gut, and it’s unfair. I’ve made it impossible to be found unless I want to be.
I watch as Sloan waddles up the stairs to the freshly built porch and sits on a rocking chair as she watches the two boys. It makes me wonder who they belong to.
The house that sits behind her looks to be in the process of being built with its walls still missing its siding. I can’t help but notice the charred trees around the area, making it seem like a fire blazed through not too long ago.
Seizing my moment, I fall back, following Kellen’s every move, waiting for the perfect opportunity.
He goes into the barn, and I slip quietly behind him. It’s not until he’s at the back that I make myself known.
Placing my gun to the back of his head, I talk slowly, keeping my voice down, “You better have made an honest woman out of her before you knocked her up.”
His tense shoulders fall, hearing my voice as he turns around. “You were invited to the wedding, asshole.”
Ignoring my gun, he comes in, giving me a one-handed man hug. “Now get that shit out of my face.”
“I can never be too careful. I rather not land myself in jail.”
“So scornful.” He chuckles.
I raise my gun back up. This time, he pauses, unsure if I’m joking around again. I’m not.
“I need your help. The only way you’re going to meet your kid is if you help me.”
“I’m a family man now, with your blessing, I’ll remind you.” The fucker did ask my permission too.
“I also saved your life once before,” he reminds me of the night I was set up.
“You help me here, and you’ll never see me interfere with you again.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” He shakes his head, knowing the shit I have myself mixed up with is never good. “Under one condition.”
My brows lift. “You’re not in a position to make deman—”
He cuts me off, “Go see Sloan. She misses you like crazy, and half the time, she thinks you’re dead and she’ll never see you again.”
“Meet me at the watering hole tonight,” I tell him. He eyes me before he pushes past. That man has nerve and is perfect for my cousin.
CHAPTER 45
Before I realize, I’m sitting in front of my old home again. I hate that the most vivid memory I have here is the one of my mother dying in front of me. I’ve seen plenty of men die, but this image haunts me. This house never had this type of pull on me before. It’s confusing the fuck out of me. I’m not a sentimental guy, yet here I am.
I force myself to leave before the family living here notices me. Taking the back way to the mansion, my bike turns into the curves. I love every second of it as I watch the tress rush behind me. My mind wanders over my problems as I hope for a solution. I have too many enemies who would love to put a bullet in my head. I’ve worn out my welcome here. I need to start planning on leaving before my past catches up to me.
Arriving at the mansion, the first thing I go to do is message Russ asking for the information on the new owner of my house, only to realize he will never answer. Heading into my old bedroom, the only thing that exists is my old bed on the floor. When the cops rammed their way in here, they took everything. I don’t even have a picture of Kellie anymore. They took it all to support their theory of me as her stalker.
Footsteps outside have me pausing. Taking my gun out of my pant leg while leaving the one behind my back, I scan the bay area. I see no one, but that doesn’t mean a sniper isn’t out there waiting for me to walk into the opening.
Keeping my back to the wall, I make my way outside to see it vacant. Am I becoming so paranoid that I’m hearing things? Before I retreat, small footprints catch my eye. Crouching down, the narrow print doesn’t look heavy, indicating a fairly small-sized woman had been walking around.
Again, I want to call Russ to ask if they located Kellie for me. What if the MC is bluffing? What if they lost her just as I had? I thought I lost her because they took her.
I can hear Russ in my head telling me the print might belong to Sloan. Kellen probably told her I stopped by, and now she’s mad as hell at me for not coming to her first.
“Your head is shoved so far up her ass you’re too blind to see everything else!” he once yelled at me when I started to go to Nashville to see Kellie. “She’s your weakness, and it won’t be long before others realize this too.”
Once it’s dark, I get a message from an unknown number. There are only a handful of people who use this number for me.
We’re at Nelly’s, is all it says, referring to the one place this town flocks to. Think of it as the shampoo and conditioner in one. This is where people go to drink their weekend away but the same place they take the family out for breakfast in the morning.
Within a half-hour, I find myself in the dark parking lot, unsure of my next step.
*
Years of hiding from the paparazzi have sharpened my skills at keeping a distance and not being discovered. I follow Kip from the mansion to this place called Nelly’s.
The only place I knew I would never be found is here in Three Rivers. One of my first purchases after I got my contract was buying Kiptyn’s old childhood home. Over the years, I have been fixing it up slowly, so no one would notice extra spending.
It is the only thing I feel is truly mine. I’ve never opened up about it to anyone. This is my first time seeing it in person, and it’s beautiful. I had it move-in ready for almost a year now. I couldn’t help myself once I made the trip back here with Camilla.
This town holds a part of me. My boarding school hid me away. But I can see what it could be like living here. The people are nothing like I’ve experienced at home. They’re kind, noninvasive, and everyone is friendly. It makes sense to own a home here if Camilla might live here one day too. Gives me a place to stay when I visit her. That is, if she and Rhett can get their shit together.
From the darkness, I watch Kip get off his bike, looking at the building ahead of him. He keeps looking at his phone like he’s expecting something from it. He shoves his hands into his pockets and goes to the back of the building.
What’s he doing?
I stay in my hiding spot, watching. It’s nice to be the one watching Kiptyn for a change. Me spying on him without him knowing. Music pounds out from an open door then is muted to only the bass on the ground. I wait to see who walks out the door. My heart beats rapidly, not knowing what to expect.
Then I see a woman step out from the shadows. For a second, my heart drops. He’s meeting someone else. Why do I do this to myself? I watch his every move. The way he steps into her, to the gentle way he puts his hand on her pregnant stomach. A pit begins to grow as I watch the way he’s so tender with her, wishing it was his hands on me.
Music thuds its way out of the building again, but they don’t notice. He says something that makes her laugh then they embrace. The way she tilts her head toward him has me seeing her face. Sloan.
My shoulders fall in relief. I need to go home. Stepping out of my position, I keep my head down when I hear my name being called.
“Kellie?”
It sounds like it bounces off every car here. Turning, I see my friend Camilla, looking shocked I’m here. “What are you doing here?”
I feel like an asshole for ignoring her calls, not being in the right frame of mind to answer. I’ve always been there for her, but I have this deeply ingrained thing where I have a hard time allowing people to be there for me. The hurt in her features is evident.
“I have some unfinished business in Three Rivers” is all I can muster, looking back to where Kip was standing, not wanting him to see me.
Stepping in, I give her a hug. It feels so good to see her. The last time I saw her wa
s when she was nominated for Song of the Year at the Country Music Awards. In the last four years, this is the longest we have gone without each other.
I swear I can hear his footsteps coming closer. Pulling away, I turn to leave, going back to the darkness of the parking lot.
CHAPTER 46
Like every other time with Kellie, I couldn’t help myself. I hear her voice, my body choosing for me, following her right to my childhood home. She led me straight there unaware anyone was following her. I watched her from afar, entering my house, her shadows moving around in the windows. My mind is buzzing with her action, catching me off guard.
I have been on my bike roaming the streets of Three Rivers, trying to make sense of why she would buy it. Every now and then, the thought that I hate driving anything other than a bike floats by. Followed by the fact that I hate suits. For the first time in my life, I come to the conclusion I hate who I have become. The thought stops me in my tracks, right in front of my old childhood home. This time it’s black inside and out, her presence disappearing from the light she brought with her.
Stepping off the bike, I go to the piece of siding that lifts up and take the key I used to use growing up. What are the chances of Kellie changing the locks? Slipping my key in, it’s a perfect fit. The handle no longer creeks like it used to, its sound giving my mother the only sign I was coming home.
The house smells of lemonade, sweet and homelike. The floor plan is the same, but this is a completely different house. It looks like it belongs in a magazine. The furniture doesn’t even have ass imprints, looking hard as hell with no one wearing them in. Yet, it feels like Kellie. Even with the stiff upholstery, it radiates warmth, just like her.
When I find her in my old bedroom, I’m not shocked. It was the first room I checked. She sleeps peacefully, looking much younger than her age. Looking down, I see she still wears an emerald ring on her ring finger. It makes me want to cut her finger off. My fists clench, hating that she would even consider offering herself to someone else. Instead, I place her finger into my mouth, wrapping my lips around that ring. She moves slightly and moans in her sleep while I tug it off her finger. Slipping the ring into my pocket, I bend down, giving her a gentle kiss on her soft blonde hair before setting my letter on her bedside table.
