Pursue (Portland Street Kings Book 4)

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Pursue (Portland Street Kings Book 4) Page 12

by Evie Harper


  “Thank you,” she whispers, and looks to my brother. She squeals and snatches her hand from him as if his touch burned her.

  She moves quickly, backing away from Pacer. Her hand covers her mouth as tears fall from her eyes. She shakes her head and repeatedly whispers, “It can’t be.”

  Pacer frowns, and angles his head in question.

  Heavy footsteps come from behind us and then Mack is yelling, “Got a little girl coming this way.”

  The raven-haired woman jolts from her stupor and scans the living room. “Oh God, she can’t see this.” And then she looks to Pacer. “She can’t see you.”

  Pacer’s eyebrows snap together, but none of us have a chance to ask her what she means because she moves straight past us and out the front.

  Pacer is the first to follow her, with Slater and me on his heels.

  We all halt as we watch the woman running up the drive to a little girl who looks, maybe, about five years old, with the same raven hair as her mother. The woman hugs her daughter and sinks to her knees to speak to her. The instant she does, the little girl’s eyes find their way down the drive and widen as soon as she sees Pacer. She jolts back from her mother and races around her. She’s screaming something, and at first I think I’m hearing things, but as she gets closer, the word becomes clearer.

  “Daddy!”

  As she races toward Pacer, he takes a step backward, but she crashes into him, her hands winding around his middle. Her soft cries into his shirt cause my chest to squeeze. So much sadness in a beautiful little girl.

  Slater draws in a sharp breath, and when I look to him, realization dawns for all of us.

  “Ava,” the woman calls gently, as she kneels by her daughter’s side and attempts to untangle the child from Pacer. His niece. “This is not Daddy, sweetheart. Remember the story Pop tells, of Daddy’s lost twin brother? This is him.” The woman’s voice breaks at the last words.

  The little girl lets go of my brother and steps back, into her mother’s waiting arms, however, she doesn’t take her gaze off Pacer. She blinks and tears fall from her shining eyes. “Uncle Mason?”

  “Yes,” her mother replies on a cry, turning her daughter and hugging her. “I’m sorry, Ava. I’m so sorry for everything.”

  Slater, Mack, and I look at one another, having no clue what to say or do. Pacer’s eyes haven’t moved from the woman and child. His expression is a mix of emotions; the most prominent is shock, his skin continuing to pale.

  The woman stands and wipes away her tears as she holds her daughter to her side. She glances to me. “Where is my car?”

  “Sophie,” Pacer breaths.

  Her head whips around. “How do you know my name?”

  “Our sister, Della, she met Abi and Jared,” he informs her.

  Sophie’s eyes slide to the side, and she bites her lip. “They didn’t tell me they found you, but I’ve been hard to get in contact with these last few months.”

  “They don’t know,” Pacer explains in a gruff voice, gaining more control of his emotions. “And you won’t tell them either.”

  Sophie’s mouth falls open. It looks like she’s about to say something, however, she peers down to her daughter, who is still staring up at her uncle, and decides not to reply to Pacer.

  She twists back to me and arches an eyebrow. “It’s at my house. I can take you both to it.”

  She nods and picks up her daughter. Ava winds her body around her mother’s, still not taking her eyes from Pacer. Sophie walks toward the road.

  Pacer clears his throat. “Is there anything you want from inside?”

  Sophie turns and looks to the house with cold, emotionless eyes. “Burn it down for all I care.” And with those last words she continues her trek up the drive, kissing her daughters hair and holding her tightly.

  Slater runs his hand through his hair. “Fuck. We can’t have a normal Saturday in this family.”

  The guys chuckle softly, but all I can manage is a slight raise of my lip.

  Today is not over for me, not even close. I have a woman to confront and two men to kill. I have revenge in my blood and rage in my bones. I won’t rest until the world knows I’m no one’s fool.

  14

  Here I am, Naked and Bare

  Ivy

  After dropping Chevy back, I went looking for my father. Slater had told me all I needed to be sure this was my father’s doing. They taunted Kelso with his past. They intended to rape him and to kill him.

  My coward of a father has gone into hiding, and so has Parks. There’s one more place my father might have gone, but my desire to talk to Kelso has overcome the thirst to find my father. I’m still trying to figure out what I’ll say, what I’ll do. I need proof he organized this, his links to the bikers, and then I can have my father thrown in jail. He needs to pay for what he's done.

  Biting my bottom lip and rubbing my sweaty hands down my jeans, I stride up the porch stairs and knock on the Kings’ front door. Recently I’ve been walking straight in, however uncertainty whirls and builds in my stomach. I have no idea what Kelso thinks or knows. Will he let me explain?

  I’d called Lana earlier, frantic to find out how Kelso was doing. She was reluctant to tell me anything at first, but I succumbed to begging and she took pity on me. She informed me about the kidnapping and the deal Parks and my dad made with the bikers. Disgust doesn’t come close to describing how I felt. How much I hated my own blood running through my veins.

  Della answers the door and frowns when she sees me. Then her eyes narrow to slits. Oh God. They all hate me.

  “Please,” I beg. “I need a minute with him to explain.”

  Della’s features soften at my plea. She opens the door for me to walk through. “He’s in his room.” Her voice is taut, not friendly at all.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, and race up the stairs before any other family members can stop me and throw me out.

  Opening Kelso’s bedroom door, I look to his bed, but it's empty. I hear the familiar sound of water running.

  I shut the bedroom door, cross the room, and enter the humid bathroom. Kelso is standing under the falling heat as it hits his naked back, his arms extended in front of him, holding his weight.

  I softly call his name, and he stills under the water. He doesn’t turn to look at me, not even a glance. “I’m so sorry,” I say with trembling lips, and press one hand to the shower door, badly wanting to push through the glass and touch the man I love. The man I only ever wanted to protect, but ended up hurting instead.

  Kelso’s body tenses, but he remains still under the flowing water.

  “Please talk to me, Kel,” I beg.

  Kelso spins and looks at me. His bruised features pull tight and his eyes are dark with rage. He slowly opens the shower door and steps out, naked. He’s glorious, exuding strength with his muscular body and heavily tattooed arms and chest. The stare he has for me is brokenhearted. I see his shattered heart, and I’m sure he’s about to rip mine in two.

  “What would you like me to say?” Kelso grates out. “You’ve already taken everything from me. I gave you my trust, and you broke it. I gave you my heart, and you shattered it. I gave you my body, and you betrayed it.” Kelso stares at me and then suddenly out of nowhere he roars, “What more do you want from me!”

  I step back clumsily, the furious anger in his voice causing me to tremble. Tears build in my eyes as sadness floods my chest.

  Kelso takes a step toward me. “Here I am. Naked and bare, but there is nothing left of me for you to burn. I’ve got nothing left for you, Ivy, or for anyone ever again.”

  I step back again, a sob ripping from my chest. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t realize my dad was capable of something this cruel. I’m so sorry I told him. I thought he’d understand and stop messing with your family if he was aware of the truth. He’s my father, Kel, I never dreamed he’d be this savage.” Saying those words has finally let them penetrate my heart and soul. My father wasn’t always this way
, but there’s no excuse; no amount of death or grief makes what he did okay, ever.

  “Why are you crying?” Kelso yells, and my eyes swing up to his. I watch as tears fall down his cheeks and he stares at me with confusion. “You can’t possibly understand the pain you’ve put me through. You can never know how deeply you've hurt me.” He punches his chest hard.

  He’s wrong. It’s pouring off him like a wave, the pain. It’s suffocating and overwhelming.

  “You made me feel dirty again, Ivy. A sensation I haven’t felt since I was a little boy. Something that has taken me years to recover from, and you, the only woman I’ve ever loved, brought it back to me, to torture me for years to come.” Tears continue to cascade down Kelso’s face, and the ramifications of what I’ve done come into full light. I’ve become his torturer, when all I ever craved was to be his savior. “The first woman I trusted obliterated me. Before you, Ivy, I was broken, but now I’m dead on the inside.” Kelso punches his chest hard again. “There’s nothing in there anymore,” he shouts.

  Kelso drops to his knees and his chest heaves as a sob rips from his mouth, the pain causing my heart to splinter a thousand different ways.

  “You’ve ruined me, Ivy. It’s as if you were the one holding me down today,” he whispers hoarsely.

  Kneeling, tears cascade down my cheeks as we stare into each other's eyes. Face-to-face. Broken to desperate.

  A million I’m sorrys sit on the tip of my tongue. But I know it won’t be enough. I know what I’ve done is unforgivable.

  Suddenly his eyes narrow with hatred, the tendons on his neck becoming taut. “Leave and never come back, Ivy,” Kelso growls, his breath searing my cheeks. “I never want to see you again. If you see me on the street, we are strangers. You do not even look my way.”

  My whole existence shatters into a thousand pieces, every ounce of strength I’d regained since my mother’s death decimated within seconds, by my own doing.

  I nod and stand, shaking. I’ve damaged us beyond repair, and I will not hurt Kelso King for a second longer. His hatred for me runs deep, but it’s his love for me that causes the tears. He can’t bear to be near me, but it’s killing him to say goodbye.

  He rises beside me, his intense gaze darkening more every second I remain in his presence.

  Blinking away the blur in my eyes, I take one moment to scan Kelso’s face, committing it to memory. I should go and not say anything else, but I’m brokenhearted and can’t imagine leaving without saying what’s truly in my heart.

  “I’ve loved no one as much as I have loved you. And even though I know you’ll remember me as the bitch who destroyed you, I will love you every day, every night, and every second for the rest of my life.” My lips wobble and tears fall unforgivingly. “However, I promise you, because I loathe ever hurting you again, if I see you on the street, I will not allow my stare to linger, I will continue on as if you aren’t even there.”

  Kelso blanches at my words, but for only a second. He steps back and lifts his chin, waiting for me to exit his bathroom and his life.

  Trembling, I put one foot in front of the other. My mind tells me to walk faster, while my heart screams to wait and see if he calls my name. Kelso doesn’t. When I’m out of his room and halfway down the stairs, I hear the slam of his bedroom door. It reverberates through me as if lightning struck me on this very spot, shaking my spirit itself.

  I continue down the stairs and out of the house. Proceeding down the porch steps, I cross my arms against my chest, warming my body with hard strokes.

  The night has never felt so dark.

  The air has never felt so cold.

  My breaths have never been harder to take.

  My father has taken everything from me. My family, my happiness, and now Kelso, my love.

  The blood inside me boils for revenge, screams for it, for him to pay for what he’s done to me.

  Kelso

  Slamming the door closed, I stare at it, seeing only Ivy’s anguished face, her tears. I will continue on as if you aren’t even there. It’s what I asked for. What I need.

  I step away from the door, my eyes catching on the torn picture, on Ivy’s lit-up green eyes and bright smile. My vision clouds and my nostrils flare as a roar explodes from my mouth and I slam my fist into the wall.

  My bedroom door swings open and my brother Mackson stands there. His eyes swim with sorrow… for me.

  Yanking my fist out of the wall, I growl, “Follow her. She’ll go to her father sooner or later. I’ll dress and be on the road soon. I want these bastards found tonight.”

  Mack nods, but hesitates for a second before finally shutting the door.

  Turning, I lean against the wall, sliding down to my ass, holding my head in my hands. I miss her already. Today took so much out of me, made me feel things I’d long forgotten, and all I want to do is tell her, share it with her so she can tell me everything will be okay. So she can lighten my burden as she’d done these last few months.

  But where has it gotten me? Here, stupid tears falling down my face as I wish for a woman who broke my trust at the first sign of trouble. Who has been telling me pretty little lies with those soft lips of hers.

  Forgiveness. It caresses my heart and at my soul, whispers that have my heart re-breaking with every plea I deny.

  15

  You Reap What You Sow

  Ivy

  My father’s holiday cabin on Lake Cumberland, in the small town of Somerset, is a two-hour drive from Portland, and it’s the only place left I haven’t looked. He’s not home. He’s not at the office. I’ve called around to his work buddies, and everyone swears they haven’t seen him. I guess it’s not smart of me to believe anyone close to my father, but what else can I do bar storming into their homes? All I can do is to keep looking, keep busy, keep on task so I don’t have to think about the ache in my chest.

  Glancing to the handgun on the passenger seat, I exhale. My father won’t get away with what he’s done. He will pay for the devastation he caused, for the torment of two broken hearts.

  I drive over a hill on the road running along the lake, a railing to my right. Our holiday cabin comes into view through the pitch-dark night. There’s no street lights, but I can easily see the back porch lights shining brightly. He’s there. The words hiss in my head. I surprise even myself with the venom in them.

  Pulling into the drive, my hands shake. I’m about to come face-to-face with the person who has done everything in his power to ruin my relationship with Kelso, who succeeded. I’m about to see a monster who wears my father’s face.

  I clutch the gun, rubbing my thumb over the rubber grip. Being the daughter of a police officer, I’m both comfortable with and trained to use guns. I’ve never had to. It’s sat in my car for years, for safety, my dad had once said. I’d laughed, asking him who would hurt the sheriff’s daughter. Sickness hits my gut when I realize the one who loved me best is the one who has hurt me the worst.

  I step out of the car, and the cool lakeside breeze hits my bare arms and legs. This morning when I dressed in denim shorts and a T-shirt, I hadn’t thought the night would bring such ugly actions.

  Peering up at the brown two-story building, no memories flash before my eyes, no thoughts of family or fun, even though I know some of my best summers were spent here. Are my memories real? How can someone go from good to pure evil?

  I stare down at the gun in my hand. Maybe I already know the answer. I’m willing to stop my father at any cost, for what's right. To fight for Kelso’s God-given right to never have to feel helpless or violated again. Nor anyone else my father deems unworthy.

  Resting my arm and gun by my side, I make my way around the cabin to the back porch. The smell of fish and fresh air hits me, causing a few memories to jolt forward, but I push them away, deep down inside myself, forcing them to stay hidden.

  Going around the corner and coming to the porch, I see the hanging lights and hear the crackle of a fire, but there’s no sign of my dad.
As I’m about to search the cabin, I catch sight of a figure standing out on the boat ramp.

  My father is casually dressed in jeans and a red polo shirt. One hand is in his pocket, and the other holds a glass. My eyes glaze over and my hands tremble. I’m not sure if it’s anger that he’s standing there so peaceful while my insides are dying from my torment and agony, or because I’m holding a gun and I’m tempted to aim it at him and shoot.

  Listening to the water lap against the sides of the ramp, I storm toward my father. He spins on his heels, stumbling and then righting himself when he sees it’s me. So he knows the Kings will be looking for him. A small kernel of enjoyment unfurls in my stomach at seeing my father afraid. You reap what you sow.

  We stand in silence. My father’s eyes catch on the gun, but he says nothing, shows no sign of surprise or shock. I thought I would have all these words to spew at him, to scream, but standing before him I can’t seem to say anything at all. I’ve told him he’s hurting me. He didn’t care. I told him he’s hurting other people. He didn’t care. I begged him to come back to me, to be the father I remember. He didn’t.

  “I know why you’re here, Ivy.” My father sighs and turns back to the lake, giving me his back.

  With quick, shallow breaths, I hiss, “Why don’t you tell me why I’m here, Dad.”

  He puts the glass to his lips and finishes the brown liquid in one sip. Exhaling heavily, he turns back around to face me. “Because I scared the boy and now he knows you told me about his past. When are you going to learn, Ivy, he’s not the man for you? Stop fighting for someone you will come to realize is below you.” He extends his right arm out to me. “And for goodness sakes, give me the gun, you silly girl. This is the sort of thing I was worried about. Clearly you’ve already spent far too much time with that family.”

  Hatred roars in my ears as my body temperature rises with my rage. “Scared?” I say in a deathly calm voice. My father has the sense to lower his arm, and appears unsure how far I’m willing to take this. “You tried to kill him. He was stripped of his clothes and almost assaulted. If it hadn’t been for someone with a goddamned heart who saved him, he would have been raped.” My voice shakes at the end, and I try with everything in me to hold on to my self-control.

 

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