I chose not to point out that at this point he was repeating himself. That probably wouldn’t go over well.
“Well, I don’t agree. That could’ve just as easily been a robber with ill will toward you. Someone with a gun. Someone that didn’t want your dick, but your fucking wallet.”
“Well, then I’ll die.”
It was the words “I’ll die” that did it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I just couldn’t.
Getting my bag off the floor where I dropped it in my haste to get Elspeth out of Rafe’s house, I picked it up then shouldered it. “Fine.”
“Fine what?” he asked, anger lining his features.
“Fine. I’ll fucking grow up. At my own house. For a few goddamned years.”
With the way I was going, it’d be at least a year before I got over my anger. I was a grudge holder. I couldn’t help it.
He just shook his head. “And maybe get rid of some of that childishness while you’re at it.”
My mouth fell open.
Then I just shook my head and turned to leave. Whistling as I did.
The final betrayal was Kimber refusing to leave Rafe’s side.
I would’ve left her, too. But then Rafe had to go and show his superiority by telling her to go with me. Which she did.
And, as we drove away, she sat in the back seat and refused to look at me.
That was the final straw. I pulled over and cried.
***
Rafe
I found her on the side of the road crying. She’d made it literally four houses down before she’d pulled over.
I felt like an asshole for saying what I had. But goddamn. I was so tired of everyone acting like they knew what was best for me.
They didn’t.
I did.
But Janie at least had my best interests at heart. That was more than I could say for the rest of my so-called friends and family.
I started walking to her car instead of taking the bike like I’d intended to do and arrived at her door within about a minute.
I looked at her through the glass and immediately felt like shit.
She was crying her eyes out, and she wasn’t a pretty crier.
Which endeared her to me even more.
I tapped on the window, and she looked up.
She looked like I’d broken her heart.
I opened her car door, and she fell into me before I could even bend down.
She hadn’t even taken the seatbelt off first.
“I’m sorry!” she wailed. “I was just so scared.”
I reached across her body and released the belt, then disentangled her from the webbing before gathering her into my arms.
She buried her face into my neck, and I felt her tears sliding down my chest.
“You’re not wearing a shirt,” she murmured.
“I didn’t have a chance. I wanted to catch you before you got to your dad and he decided to off me,” I teased her.
Janie started to giggle. “He’d never do that. I think he secretly likes you. Or, maybe, what you can do for them, that is.”
I laughed.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I agreed. “Do you want to…”
Janie’s phone rang, and she pulled away with a frown.
“Who is that?” I asked curiously.
She showed me the screen readout, and I winced.
“Don’t answer it.”
Janie threw the phone down on the seat next to her without answering it.
“Turn around and drive back to my place?” I asked hopefully.
She nodded, and I stepped back far enough so she could close her door.
Moments later she pulled slightly forward, turned around, and headed back my way.
I walked back a lot slower than she drove, but she waited for me on my porch steps.
With her phone ringing again.
“Just answer it,” I told her.
She handed it to me. “You do it.”
I sighed and answered the phone. “I’m taking care of it.”
“You better, motherfucker.”
Then James hung up.
I sighed and handed her the phone, then turned back around. “Let me check the mail really quick while I’m out here.”
Janie nodded but didn’t move from the porch steps.
I passed Glock and rubbed his head, smiling when he tried to lick my hand.
“Gross,” I told him.
He let his mouth fall open.
I’d just pulled out the mail—bills and a reloading magazine—when Janie’s voice sounded.
***
Janie
“We should talk about what just happened,” I murmured, dashing my hands one more time across my cheeks.
Rafe’s lips kicked up. “Yeah. No. I think we’ll just chalk what just happened up to Elspeth being a bitch and call it a day.”
My smile wobbled. “I kind of…”
Rafe’s face changed. His eyes, which had previously been smiling and soft, turned hard and angry.
In one split second, he went from the man that I knew to a killer that I didn’t.
We were standing in his driveway. My dogs were poised in between us—Glock closer to me, Kimber closer to him. Rafe was standing at the end of the driveway next to the mailbox.
The neighbors’ guests still lined the street, but one black panel van must’ve not belonged to the neighbors because men poured out of it and started circling us. Three coming for me. Three going for Rafe.
I froze as terror started to slide over me.
These men, all of them, were huge, buff, and covered in black. Their beards were bushy and thick, and not well maintained at all. Where Rafe looked like a bad ass, these guys just looked plain fucking scary.
My eyes sliced to Rafe, taking in his reaction.
In his haste to get to me, Rafe had left his gun. He’d also left his shoes, shirt, and anything else that might’ve come in handy for this situation.
“She was sent to get you quietly,” the man closest to Rafe, the one that looked to be the leader of these band of misfits, said. “You should’ve let her do her job.”
Rafe didn’t say anything, but he’d crept closer to me. Suddenly, he wasn’t the length of the driveway away. He was only a foot away. Reaching distance.
A sound of gravel grating at my back made me flip around, but it was only Kimber, menacing and silent.
I turned back around and crowded close to Rafe’s back. The moment nothing separated us? I lifted my shirt and pressed my stomach against Rafe’s hand, which was behind his back. He’d been reaching for me to make sure I was close.
He hadn’t really needed to bother. I was as close as I could get without actually hindering his movements. I was practically in his arms.
The moment his hand felt my revolver, he closed his fingers around it.
It only held five shots. I’d always joked with my dad—if I need more than five shots, I’m screwed anyway. There’s no way I would be able to get that many people all by myself.
But Rafe? He could. And suddenly I wished I had a semi-automatic with fifteen rounds in it. If anybody could do it, he could.
There were six men, five shots, and only one of him. I looked down at my side when I felt something brush up against it, and saw Glock there, letting me know that he had me.
I swallowed past my pounding heart and turned my attention back to the men, and what they were saying.
“…Layton wants you to know you’re not as smart as you think you are.”
My heart sank.
How had he found out?
Rafe was so careful. That’s why he hadn’t gotten anywhere in the months that he’d been on this case. He hadn’t wanted to tip his hand.
Rafe’s hand clenched around the butt of my gun, and he pushed against my belly with the tip of one finger.
I bent down and stepped away, the gun sliding free.
&
nbsp; I went to step back forward, but he stopped me by shaking his head.
I remained where I was as I prayed that this wouldn’t turn out the way I thought it was going to.
That this was only a discussion. That we were going to walk back inside and figure out just what in the hell was going on.
But, by the tenseness of all the men, including my man, I knew this wasn’t going to work out like that.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I looked surreptitiously at my watch to see who it was.
Daddy.
I pressed answer on my watch, then hoped that since the volume was so low—I accidentally answered my phone a lot. And, most of those times were inopportune. Like, when I was going to the bathroom, or in the middle of my doctors’ appointments. Sometimes, while I was sitting on the couch watching porn—and that had only been one single time, and lucky for me, it was Kayla that had called. Not anybody else.
I could hear my dad calling my name,
“Don’t touch her,” Rafe snarled, his body going tight like a bowstring.
I looked to my left to see one of the men try to get closer to me, but Glock turned his big body to block him.
If they got through my baby, they wouldn’t get through Rafe…right?
I was literally shaking, and all the while my nausea rose.
I wasn’t cut out for this.
I wouldn’t be able to hack this part of the job. My dad was right.
I never, not ever, thought I would be agreeing with my father on the fact that I couldn’t do what a man did, but I was right then.
Where I was shaking, sweating, and nauseous—and obviously showing the fact that I was scared to death, Rafe was cool, calm and collected.
He was staring blankly at the men around him, and he was anything but scared.
He was pissed.
“Go get his computer,” GIC—guy in charge—ordered.
The man that’d circled around to my back took a step back, and then turned on his heel and rushed up the steps. He burst right through the door and disappeared inside.
“As for you, my friend Rafe, Layton would like to have a few words with you…with both of you,” GIC said.
Rafe didn’t reply. Didn’t move.
Hell, I wasn’t even sure he was breathing.
The sound of boots on the wooden steps made me turn my head to look behind me again, and what I saw nearly made me laugh.
The guy that’d gone to retrieve Rafe’s computer had retrieved a computer all right.
He hadn’t grabbed Rafe’s computer, though. He’d grabbed mine.
Dumbass.
There was nothing on my computer but a bunch of mumbo jumbo. I kept everything backed up in the Cloud. Literally, the only thing they would find was my freakin’ Solitaire addiction.
Rafe’s computer was similar to my own—if you didn’t count the stickers.
However, there had to be a reason that they’d wanted Rafe’s, otherwise, they wouldn’t have specifically mentioned it as if he had something that they wanted.
So, if it wasn’t in their hands, I was happy.
“All right, Rafe. Make this easy. Let’s go, and we don’t kill your girl,” GIC said. “You both just come with me, and we’ll make it out of here with everyone breathing.
“You leave her here, and I’ll go with you,” Rafe countered.
GIC shook his head. “No. We can’t do that. Boss said you were both to come, so you both come. You know how orders are.”
Rafe’s hand clenched on the gun.
“No,” Rafe repeated.
“Boys,” GIC sighed.
Everybody moved at once.
Guns were drawn, but none of the four that had raised their pistols got any further than unholstering them.
Why?
Because Rafe had put a bullet in their skulls in less time than it took me to draw my next breath.
Everyone was frozen.
Everyone, that was, but Rafe…and apparently the guy behind me.
The guy behind me put his arm around my throat, and I was pulled back against him.
He spun and aimed, but it was too late.
The man had me exactly where he wanted me.
I could hear the rise of voices as the neighbor’s music changed to country music, and I wondered if anybody would’ve heard those gunshots over all the racket they were making.
Our luck, probably not.
My eyes widened when the man at Rafe’s back moved, but my puppies were on him before he could so much as take a threatening step.
Kimber had him by the arm that was raising the weapon in the air, and Glock was at his throat moments later.
Then suddenly, it was just one.
“Get in the van,” the man said. “Now.”
Rafe swallowed, then started backing away.
“I’ll get in the van if you let her go.”
“Drop the gun,” the guy ordered.
Rafe threw it underhanded across the yard, and it landed in the flower bed with a soft thud. Then he backed away until he was standing next to the van.
“Call the dogs,” bad guy number six ordered. “I have some rope in the van. Tie them to the mailbox.”
Rafe hesitated, and the guy with his arm across my throat cocked his gun.
Rafe reached into the van and got the rope.
Then he called the dogs to his side and tied them to the mailbox.
Rafe waited for his next order, which, apparently, was to get in the van.
“In the back. There’s a set of handcuffs. Cuff both hands to the pole back there.”
Rafe made eye contact with me.
“How do I know you won’t hurt her?”
Bad guy grunted. “You don’t.”
Then he pressed the gun to my forehead harder.
That was about the time that I lost my battle with the nausea.
It hit me so fast and hard that I was projectile vomiting all over my captor, as well as all over Rafe’s front walk.
My captor pushed me away with a shove and started walking away from me.
Moments later, the van with Rafe inside was gone.
And I was left standing alone with five dead bodies in Rafe’s front yard, with vomit covering me and everything around me in a five-foot radius.
Before I could freak out, though, a police cruiser pulled up.
A large, tanned man got out in police uniform, took everything in, and went for the mic on his shoulder.
“This is Unit-56. We’re going to need additional units. The father was right.”
My father!
“Daddy!” I said, reaching for my phone.
My father came onto the line in less than an instant.
“Janie, are you okay?”
“I-I’m okay. Rafe…Rafe went with him.”
“I know, baby. We’re already working on it,” he said. “Is the detective there?”
“Detective?”
The phone was taken from my hand, and the large tanned man—who I now realized wasn’t exactly tan, but more of a mocha color thanks to his heritage that had nothing to do with the sun. “This is Detective Tyler Cree.”
I kept my eyes above and marched down to my dogs, and the moment that I was within reach of them, I dropped down to their level and hugged them.
Then, immediately burst out crying.
“Oh, God.”
***
Two hours later
“I already told you. They came out of a black panel van. One of those new ones that look kind of cool. They surrounded us, then one of them went inside to get my computer.”
“Why your computer?” Detective Cree asked.
I shook my head. “He didn’t actually want my computer. He wanted Rafe’s, but the guy found mine instead. I saw him pick it up from where he’d dropped it on the ground. It was mine. See? Rafe’s computer is right there.”
I pointed to his simple black lapto
p that’d been sitting on the end table.
Detective Cree nodded. “We’ll have to take that into evidence with us. See if we can pull anything useful off of it.”
A thought occurred to me, and I jumped up.
“Janie?” my father called.
I rushed to the laptop, flipped it open, and rushed back to the table. Setting it down where I’d been originally sitting, I started tapping away.
“Now, the other night, I was looking at my computer and I was annoyed with how slow it was running. Thinking it might’ve been something else, I picked up Rafe’s computer and found this program. The program tapped into my computer and allowed it to see everything that I was doing. It even has a…”
“Camera,” my father said, sounding pissed.
“Don’t get all pissy, Daddy,” I ordered. “And aren’t you kind of glad he had it right about now?”
“Should let him fucking rot,” he said stubbornly. “That’s an invasion of privacy, Janie. No joke. You shouldn’t be so nonchalant about this.”
My brows rose, and I said, “You remember that time when I was sixteen, and I found out that you installed that tracker on my car, as well as on my phone and purse?”
My father tightened his lips with displeasure.
“Got you there, bad boy,” Elliott replied. “Now, what do you need from us, Cree?”
Detective Cree narrowed his eyes at Elliott. “Who are you?”
Elliott’s lips twitched. “Someone you’ll want on your side. Trust me.”
Detective Cree didn’t look like he agreed, but then I stopped paying attention to whatever they were talking about and started pulling up the program on Rafe’s laptop.
Moments later, I saw a man’s face.
“That’s him,” I said, backing away slightly, startled to see him so close.
“Who’s that?” Detective Cree asked.
“That’s the man that took Rafe.”
“And that one?” He pointed to the man standing behind the guy’s right shoulder.
“That, I’m assuming, is Layton,” my father replied.
I pulled my phone out to access my files that I’d gathered on Layton Trammel and then turned it to compare the two men.
“This one is his latest military photo,” I said. “That one is him, correct?”
“This photo does match his hair—though it’s gotten longer. The eyes are the same, too,” Dad said.
“Then,” I nodded in confirmation. “I think I’m fairly positive that the man standing at his shoulder is Layton Trammel.”
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