Trap: A Salvation Society Novel

by Jennifer Rebecca

  I crouch down beside the bed and push the hair back that’s fallen in her face so I can see her, and she can see it’s me. MacKenzie has been through enough. I don’t need to startle her so that she panics or lashes out. Until we’ve made some headway on her battle scars, I don’t want to surprise her. It would only do more damage than good and that’s not my intention at all. I want to help heal, not harm.

  “Kyle,” she says, surprised to see I’m back, and really, who could blame her? The way I left wasn’t one of my more stellar moments. I can’t go back in time and change the way that I reacted, I can only make it up to her from this moment forward and prove to her that I’m the guy she deserves. I won’t ever leave her again.

  “Yeah, honey,” I reply gently. “It’s me.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She’s trying to hide that she was crying, but there’s no hiding the mess she’s made of her face. Her nose is running, her eyes are red and puffy, and her creamy skin is all blotchy. But even through it all, she’s still the most beautiful woman that I have ever laid eyes on, inside and out.

  “I’m here because I want to be,” I tell her honestly. “I’m here because I need to be. I need to be near you. I love you, MacKenzie.”

  “No,” she cries. “Don’t say that! You can’t say that!”

  “Why not?” I ask calmly. “It’s true.”

  “No.” Snot pours from her nose and even more tears rush down her cheeks. “You can’t love me.”

  “Why not?” I ask, confused. If anyone was deserving of everything they want in life and in love, it’s MacKenzie.

  “Because,” she says stubbornly. “I’m—”

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m broken!” she screams, losing it, tearing her fingers through her hair. “I’m broken, and one day you’re going to realize you wasted all this time on someone who’s fucking broken, and you’ll know you deserve better than me.”

  “You’re not broken,” I say adamantly.

  “I can’t fly!” she admits—something I’m guilty of wondering about. “I’m terrified to get in a plane again. What kind of pilot can’t fly, Kyle?”

  “I don’t know,” I confess quietly. And I don’t. I was so busy worrying about my feelings and why she’d suddenly turned me away that I didn’t bother to realize her life was still falling apart after her rescue. I really am a fucking idiot.

  “I don’t either!” she shouts. “I don’t know who I am anymore. All I know is I’m broken.”

  “So you’re a little broken,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. It’s true and I’m not going to lie to her. She doesn’t need someone to sugar coat everything for her, she needs someone to be honest with her but then also help her through it.

  “A little?” she asks snidely.

  “All right,” I concede. “More than a little.”

  “Thanks.” She rolls her eyes, and I almost fall down on my knees and thank God for this glimpse of my girl again. Her fire and her sass are showing, and I know without a doubt that she’s still in there somewhere. She’s scared and changed—we all would be after what she went through—but I have no doubt we’ll find our way back together now.

  “So you’re a little broken,” I repeat my earlier thought. “But you don’t need a hero. You don’t need me. That’s one of the things I love about you. You don’t need anyone to make you less broken or not. You’re going to do it yourself. I’m just asking for the chance to be there through it with you.”

  “Why?” she asks me after a moment.

  “Because I’m in love with you, and I have been for a while,” I answer her honestly.

  I hold my breath while she watches me. Will she turn me away again? I don’t know. I don’t know anything with MacKenzie. She’s constantly surprising me. Life with her will always be interesting; that’s for sure.

  “Will you let me be there with you?” I ask, holding out my hand. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes,” she says softly, taking it in hers.

  I pull her up carefully and lead her into the bathroom. I turn on the taps to let the water heat up. I strip off my clothes and fold them neatly on the counter in a precise stack, and then I turn to MacKenzie. She’s leaning up against the vanity, and it looks like the only thing holding her up is the counter that her hips are pressed against. Her arms are crossed protectively over her, and I hate that she’s uncomfortable around me.

  I peel her arms away and see what she was hiding. She’s wearing my T-shirt. I don’t fight the cocky smirk that tugs on my lips. “You don’t love me, my ass.”

  “Shut up,” she snaps, but her words are cut off when I pull her stolen clothing over her head.

  I gently pull her with me into the shower stall and position her under the spray. I grab the shampoo bottle, one I’m now more than a little familiar with. While she was gone, I got in the habit of using her shampoo and soaps. I liked having the smell of her with me, on my skin, all day.

  I pour a little in my palms and begin to massage it into her scalp, rinsing the grime away. Her long golden curls had become dark and dull under the dirt she didn’t care to wash away. I rinse her hair and watch it shine again, even darkened by the water. It's still beautiful. I put some of her face wash on the very tips of my fingers and gently scrub her face until it gleams pink. And then I pick up the white bar of soap and carefully scrub every inch of her with methodic precision. I’m all business, even over the fun parts. I’m not here to pop a boner at the first sight of her tits and ass; I’m here to care for my woman when she needs me. Someday, I’ll need her to take care of me too, and we can spend the rest of our days just taking care of each other.

  Once she’s clean, I can tell she’s feeling better already. I shut off the water and grab a towel from the rack. I dry her off gently and then quickly wipe the water from my skin. I hang the towel back up and walk us through her bedroom in the nude to the closet. I pull another one of my T-shirts out of my drawer and scrunch it up before dropping it down over her head. She pops her arms through the arm holes immediately.

  I quickly step into a pair of workout shorts and then tug her back to the bed, where I take one look at the sheets that she’s been sleeping in for who knows how long. I let go of her hand and make quick work of stripping the bed. I dump the sheets in the hamper, but I’m also considering throwing them away when she’s not looking.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, looking ashamed of herself as she picks at a cuticle. So she fell apart, I’m not going to fault her for that. But I am going to look after her until she’s strong enough to look after herself again. I won’t leave her alone to suffer ever again.

  “Hey,” I say, tugging her chin up to look at me. “Don’t be.”

  I drop a quick kiss to her lips and then make the bed again. I grab her and pull her down with me to rest in the protective circle of my arms. I cover us with the blankets and wait for her to settle while I absentmindedly stroke her back.

  “Why are you taking care of me?”

  “Because I love you,” I answer.

  “I know that,” she says. “You already said as much, but… why?”

  “Because that’s what couples do,” I answer, and when I look at the expression on her face, I realize I need to do a better job of explaining. “One day, I’m going to need you to care for me. Will you when I need you?”

  “Of course,” she answers instantly.

  “Did you think, even for a second, to answer no?”

  “No,” she says thoughtfully. Then light dawns in her eyes. She’s getting it.

  “And some days, we’re going to need to care for each other,” I add. “But we always need to love each other. And I love you, MacKenzie.”

  “I love you too, Kyle,” she whispers.

  “I know,” I tell her with a smile on my face. “Now let’s get some sleep. We can tackle the rest of the world’s problems tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  And then
she curls up in my arms, safe and sound, and she drifts off to sleep.

  And for the first time in weeks, I do the same, confident in the knowledge that I finally have her back, and this time, I’m not letting her go.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  MacKenzie

  Walk through hell

  One week later…

  For the first time in a week, I wake up alone in my bed.

  After Kyle came back, we’ve been inseparable. My brother, Ryan, was able to go home to his family in D.C., and I’ll miss him, but I will also carry the guilt with me of how worried I made him. I know he thinks he’s responsible for what happened to me, but truthfully, I have always known how dangerous flying is. Like Icarus, I flew too close to the sun and fell out of the sky.

  But whether I was targeted because of the company my brother keeps or my own, I was still targeted. I’m going to have to live with the ramifications of what happened for the rest of my life. And fortunately, I was luckier than most. I was beaten and starved. I was not, however, raped nor beheaded on live video that was aired on the internet and major news outlets for my parents to see. Considering who I was taken by, I will consider myself lucky for all of my days—for the rest of my life—that was not something my family had to witness.

  And even though I am home and I am whole in mind and body, there are still scars I’m going to have to carry with me until the day that they put me in the ground. Like my newfound fear of planes. I don’t know who I am if I can’t be a pilot. After I pushed so hard for Kyle to see the marine and not just the woman he met in the bar, I was afraid he wouldn’t want just MacKenzie if he couldn’t have Captain Black. I guess the joke is on me, because that’s all that’s left. So I have to admit that waking up alone in bed, after he vowed to walk through hell with me, makes me feel a little vulnerable. Did he change his mind? No. Kyle would tell me face-to-face if he had.

  I make my way downstairs and see he’s left a full pot of coffee and a note propped up on a clean mug he’s pulled down from the cabinet and set out for me. He didn’t leave me. Thank God. I pluck up the note and read it.

  Mack,

  Do you trust me? I have a surprise for you.

  Just remember, I’ll never let you fall.

  Dress warm. I’ll be back soon.

  Love,

  K

  Dress warm? That’s weird. Sure, the weather is turning cooler, but this is still San Diego. I’m not sure in all the time I’ve lived here that it’s ever been cooler than sixty. Color me a curious cat, I pour myself a full mug of coffee and doctor it with the fancy creamer I missed while I was in the desert, and then make my way back upstairs, sipping my coffee as I go and wondering what this surprise could be.

  I dress in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. I pull socks and my running shoes on my feet and then make my way into the bathroom. I quickly run a brush through my hair and pull it into a ponytail. I brush my teeth, and just as I’m turning to make my way out of the bathroom, I notice Kyle has been standing there. He’s leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed loosely over his chest and a smile playing around his full lips.

  “Hey,” I greet him nervously. I feel weird. I haven’t been out of this house much, other than a few soul-searching walks on the beach, so wherever he’s taking me has me feeling nervous. Am I underdressed? Over? Should I have put on some makeup or maybe a real bra and not the sports bra I’m currently wearing? I just don’t know.

  “Hi,” he says before sauntering over to me on loose limbs only to take me in his arms the second he’s close enough to touch me.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Do you trust me?” he asks before placing a kiss on my lips.

  “Yes,” I answer him without hesitation.

  “You’re going to need a jacket,” he says before turning and walking out of the bathroom.

  I follow behind him, making a detour into the closet to grab an old Texas A&M sweatshirt. I pull it over my head and walk down the stairs. I’m so nervous that my knees are shaking, and it’s everything I can do to keep my balance on the two flights of stairs.

  When I get to the bottom, Kyle takes me by the hand and leads me out to his truck. He opens my door for me like a gentleman and then makes his way around to the driver seat and climbs in. He starts the engine and then looks at me for a minute, really looking at me. It feels like he can see all the way down to the very depths of my soul.

  “Look at me, honey,” he says, and my heart starts beating faster and faster. “I will never let anything happen to you again. I promise you that I will do my very best until the day I die. And if something does happen again, I will walk through hell to get you out again. There is nothing and no one in this world that could stop me.”

  My breath seizes in my lungs, because as far as promises go, that’s a pretty good one. I just nod, because I don’t know what else I can say that could be even close to what he has just given me.

  Kyle pulls out of the driveway and down city streets until he can get on the highway. He takes the 52 East, and I wonder where in the hell he’s going until I see the signs for Gillespie Field. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. I feel sick and my skin is clammy. I’m suddenly glad I didn’t have enough time to eat breakfast before Kyle brought me on this little adventure to hell, because I would be tossing my cookies right now if I had.

  He pulls up near a small hangar, and I think I’m going to die. I’m sweating profusely and barely hanging on to my conscious thought. How I’m not letting the nightmares take me back right now, I don’t know. It must be the promise Kyle made to me, his vow to never let me fall again. Apparently, he meant literally, like from the sky, because this man I love is about to send me hurtling through the air in a tin can. Oh my fucking God, I cannot do this. I can’t. I just can't.

  “Just breathe, baby,” Kyle says as he climbs out of the truck and makes his way around to my side, where he opens the door. For a brief second, I considered throwing the lock on the door, climbing in the driver seat, and peeling out, but he took the keys with him and dropped them in his pocket. And I don’t know how to hotwire a car.

  “I’m not sure I can,” I admit.

  “You can,” he replies calmly. “Let’s just go look around.”

  I don’t like where this is going. It feels like a trick, and I don’t like it. He’s going to try to get me up in a bird, and not just any bird, a baby bird with primitive avionics. I fell out of the sky in a brand spanking new, state of the art, eighty-million-dollar aircraft. If that can happen in a Lightning, then this little piece of shit will surely kill us, right?

  But I also know that’s not true. In my rational mind, I know I would have killed to fly one of these private planes a few weeks ago. Hell, I used to go up in some terrible planes with my grandfather to pipeline spot, so this is surely safer than that. Those were barely held together by duct tape and chewing gum. I know because my grandfather used the gum in my mouth to fix something on more than one occasion.

  Kyle takes my hand, and we walk into the hangar where a gorgeous Cessna sits gleaming and freshly washed. Someone takes very good care of this baby bird. I’m green with envy over whoever has the good fortune to own this beautiful piece of machinery, and at the same time, I don’t want anywhere near it.

  “Let’s take a closer look,” he encourages me, and I think that maybe he’s lost his damn mind. How the hell am I supposed to just look around? And still, I’m curious. I want to but I also don’t want to let myself do it.

  “I’m fine right here.”

  “What did I promise you?” he asks me as he gets close enough to hold me in his arms and squats down just enough so he can look me in the eye.

  “That you’ll never let me fall,” I repeat his earlier words.

  “That’s right,” he agrees. “And what else?”

  “That if anything happens to me, you’ll walk through hell to get me back out again,” I answer.

  “That’s right,” he says wit
h a proud smile on his face. “So let’s do this.”

  “Oh God.”

  “MacKenzie, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Surfer,” he says, surprising me. And by the knowing smile on his face, he also knows he caught me off guard. “Surfer and I were on the teams together way back when. Surfer, this is my girl, Mack.”

  “Hi there, MacKenzie,” a tall, beautiful man with blond hair and ice-blue eyes greets me. He looks so familiar, but I can’t place him, because I know I’ve never met this man before. He’s dressed casually in a way that he blends in, not stands out. It’s almost like he’s no one and everyone all at the same time. He is literally every man. It’s unnerving.

  “Hi,” I reply nervously.

  “There’s no reason to be nervous,” Kyle says. “Surfer is how we got you back, honey. He found you.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” Surfer tells me in a gentle tone. One that would be used with a frightened child or wounded animal. Is that what I am? A wounded animal? Probably. “I know what you went through, and I know how you’re feeling. I know what it’s like to have everything you love taken from you so ruthlessly. I also know that Tarzan and I checked every inch on my personal plane that no one ever gets to fly but me. I’m also happy to let you check whatever you need to, but my friend would really love to show off his skills in the air to you.”

  “You fly?” I ask, surprised. I know he said before that he could, but still, I never imagined it. I just pushed it out of my brain and forgot all about it. Now, I’m realizing that there’s even more to Kyle than meets the eye.

  “Not like you do,” Kyle says sheepishly. “But I can.”

  “So you weren’t lying?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around what I know about Kyle Garrett. He’s a renaissance man for sure.