Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2)

by Victoria Renteria

  “W-What about Sabrina? Those pictures? She said . . .” Kylee’s voice chokes, clogged with emotion as tears silently stream from her eyes.

  “Sabrina?” I growl. Kylee nods. Rage tugs on its leash again, willing me to search for her and demand answers. Blowing out a breath, I center myself yet again.

  “Sabrina lied. Those pictures were a farce, one that I did not participate in willingly, I might add.” Her body relaxes, melting in my arms.

  “It’s my fault,” she whispers through silent tears.

  “Nothing is your fault, baby.” Leaning down, I kiss her forehead.

  “She died because of me. I know he said it wasn’t my fault, but . . . I can’t help but feel like it is.” Her chest hitches as she desperately tries to inhale.

  “Who?” I ask, trying to make sense of her rambling.

  “Violet, our baby.” All of the air is sucked from the room as it begins to spin before my eyes. Baby? We are having a baby? Wait. She said she died. She? How far along was she?

  Still confused, I ask, “Baby, I’m a little confused. You’re gonna have to help me out here.”

  “I-I was pregnant. I didn’t know. I just found out. She had already been doing vile things to me. If I had known, I could have saved her. I would have tried to save her, Alex. You have to believe me,” she pleads.

  Torture. They tortured my Goddess when she was pregnant with our child, and she miscarried. The leash holding my rage snaps. I’m going to kill every last one of those motherfuckers . . . if it’s the last thing I do. My chest heaves with the rage inside, my breaths loudly tainting the corridor.

  “Her?” I croak.

  Blushing, she looks away. “I-I don’t know that, really. I just had a feeling.”

  “Violet?” I ask.

  She nods, silently confirming my suspicion. The name she’d given our unborn child. The fissure in my heart spreads as a piece breaks off, withering away to nothingness. My gaze drops to the Goddess in my arms, the woman who’s been broken and abused yet always manages to put others before her.

  “It changes nothing.” My voice cracks, the pain coming through loud and clear. Her gaze whips back to mine. She searches my eyes as if seeking the answer to an age-old question.

  “It changes nothing,” I say with confidence.

  “I love you.” Her voice is strong and clear underneath the pain.

  “And I you,” I say, kissing her hair. The sound of gunfire interrupts our moment. Jumping to a standing position with Kylee still cradled in my arms, I look through the faces of my team.

  “Where is the Colonel?” I demand.

  “Hadn’t realized he wasn’t behind us until a moment ago,” Sam replies.

  “The Colonel?” Kylee questions. I nod as fear makes its way into her dark gaze.

  “Please tell me it’s just some random Colonel that I wouldn’t happen to know,” she murmurs.

  Sighing heavily, I say, “Wish I could, Goddess. Wish I could.”

  Unease builds, quivering in my belly as restless thoughts enter my mind. Where could he have gone? What on earth could he be doing? Why wasn’t he right behind us? Shaking away the uneasy thoughts, I demand into the COM, “Falcon, come in. What’s your location?”

  No response. Frowning, I bark at Sam, “Take her. Secure her in the vehicle. Brighton has already gone to take Noah’s body. Both of you guard her with your life. You’ll come with me.” I nod to Cooper.

  Sam steps forward to retrieve Kylee.

  She tenses, murmuring, “Please don’t let me go. P-Please don’t.”

  Fuck. I can’t fix this shit and hold her. Placing her on her feet, I look her in the eye. “You have to do exactly what I tell you. If I say run, you run. Got that?” She nods vigorously. Sam frowns, but accepts that we have no choice; she’s likely to bug out if we separate.

  Gesturing to Sam and Cooper, my voice is terse as I say, “Let’s make our way back toward the kitchen. That’s where they were last.”

  Pulling Kylee behind me, I try not to wince as she utters tiny little whimpers with each step. Just outside the kitchen, we hear voices loudly conversing. Signaling everyone’s silence, we move closer and overhear the Colonel speaking to someone.

  “How could you? She’s our daughter,” he spits angrily.

  “I-I did only what I had to do, Kyle. Nothing more.”

  “What you had to do? What you had to do!” The Colonel huffs, each word exploding from his lungs.

  “You do not understand our ways, Kyle. You never did.” The woman’s resigned sigh rings through the kitchen.

  “Oh, I understand perfectly, Min. I understand that you chose to have our daughter gang raped at ten-years-old. I understand that you orchestrated her kidnapping as an adult where you not only tortured her, but you now tell me that you caused the loss of my grandchild. Because you tortured her. And for what, Min? For what?” Kylee’s father screams at her mother, his voice colored with the rage we all feel on her behalf.

  His chest rises and falls rapidly as he stands in the doorway, staring into the yard. Kylee flinches behind me, her muscles tensing with each passing moment.

  “I’m sorry, Kyle. Had I known she was pregnant, I never would have . . .”

  The Colonel cuts her off before she’s able to finish. “Stop spewing your vile lies. You never should have to begin with. The sight of you makes me sick. She is the only thing I’ve done right in this life, and I will be damn if I allow you to fuck that up for me.” Raising his gun, he lifts it, pointing it directly at her chest.

  Her eyes well with tears as she pleads, “Kyle, don’t do this. I-I love you.”

  Tossing his head back, he laughs a bone-chilling laugh. Kylee shudders beside me and cries out as her mother raises a gun, pointing it at her father, pulling the trigger. Dodging the bullet, the Colonel fires off two rounds, one that lands in her shoulder and one somewhere in her midsection. With blinding speed, she takes off running in the opposite direction.

  The Colonel starts after her when Kylee speaks. “Daddy!”

  Her voice stops him in his tracks. Slowly, he turns, his eyes widening at the sight of his daughter covered in blood. Striding forward, he falls to his knees, collapsing in front of her. He snakes his arms around her midriff, pulling her in closely, not minding the blood and grime.

  “Princess, I thought I’d lost you.” His voice is chock-full of emotion.

  “Shhh. I’m here. It’s all right, Daddy,” she soothes, her hands lovingly stroking his hair. Giving them a moment, I address the team, everyone now gathered around the duo.

  “Let’s secure the area. Then we can get her some medical attention . . . and take care of our brother.” My voice breaks at the end.

  The mere mention of Noah leaves a gaping hole in my heart. As my team disperses and we secure the perimeter, I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness for all that’s been lost today. My brother . . . my child . . . a little bit of my soul has died along with them. Now the question that remains is: How do we move on from something like this?

  HEALING, AN INTERNAL PROCESS THAT requires one’s mind and soul to mend after they’ve been shattered by tragedy—a powerful statement . . . one that healing has no business trying to make. It’s funny, as humans, we tend to throw out how everything heals with time. One of the nurses said “Oh, you have the gift of time.” Like that’s supposed to magically make it all better? Six weeks of lying in a hospital bed, staring blankly at a wall is enough to make anyone go stir crazy. Healing. Humph.

  What if I don’t heal? Did they ever think of that? Physically, my body has mended after weeks of therapy and nourishment. The obstetrician . . . that was a challenge in and of itself. I didn’t really want them to touch me. Not after the last time.

  The obstetrician’s words come back to me in a flash.

  “Ms. Parker, are you listening?” the doctor asks. My gaze falls out the window, watching a bird in the distance. Moving, she comes to stand in front of me, blocking my view. Growling, I scowl up at he
r.

  “Ms. Parker, I wanted to give you the results of your latest check-up.” Dropping my gaze, I study the sheet covering my torso. The doctor releases an exasperated sigh.

  “Very well. If that is how you wish it, I will continue. I was just hoping for some interaction. It would be good for you, Kylee. It will help you heal. You understand that, right?” Grunting in response, I continue to stare at the sheet.

  “All right. Well, your tests are all fine. Your cervix has healed nicely. It’s been almost six weeks now. Once the six-week mark hits, you may resume having intercourse. And . . .” She pauses. Unsure of why she stopped, I glance up to see her smile.

  “And you may resume trying for another baby once the time feels right for you. Your body has fully healed from the experience. You should have no issues in the future carrying a child.” Her words lighten my heart just a little. It is good news. Not that it will happen. Fate’s a bitch like that . . . One that has it out for me.

  Shuffling in the hall brings me out of my memory. Cringing, I pick a new spot on the wall to stare at. I’m ready to get out of this place. It’s driving me nuts. I have plans . . . plans that need to be put in motion. Anger swells, expanding in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  Sinking my teeth into my lip, the bite quells the raging inferno burning inside me. A shadow moving beside the door catches my attention. My eyes jump, darting in the direction of the movement. My brows crease, wrinkling as I furiously try to see who’s there. My heart races, panic welling up inside of me. Have they come back for me?

  Quickly scanning the room, I search for something to defend myself. Gah! Dammit. There’s nothing! The door creaks as it opens, revealing a tall man with broad, defined shoulders, muscular thighs, and violet eyes. Alex steps into the light, a frown covering his handsome face. He quickly recognizes the panic in my eyes and closes the distance between us.

  “What is it, Goddess?”

  Shaking my head no, I plop it back down on the pillow and resume staring at the wall.

  “Tell me. Something spooked you when I walked in. Your face is as white as the sheet. And your fists were curled so tightly into these blankets, I’m surprised they’re not shredded.” Concern is heavy in his voice. The string that binds our souls together pulls taught, begging me to put him out of his misery.

  Shame fills my voice as I admit, “I-I’m sorry, Alex. I-I was afraid . . . afraid they’d come back for me.”

  The bed dips as he climbs in beside me, pulling me tightly into his embrace. Each knot in every muscle unfolds, loosening as my body molds to his. Two halves of a much larger whole, destined to be together. Alex sighs heavily, his biceps flexing as he crushes me to his chest.

  “I’m the one who should apologize.” Blinking up at him, I search his eyes, wondering why he would need to apologize.

  “Why?” I tentatively ask.

  “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I should have protected you and I didn’t. I wasn’t there when I needed to be. I’m not sure I can ever forgive myself for that. So, I’m not sure how I can ask you to . . .” His tone that started angry grows quiet and pained. Some of the tiny shards in my heart weave back together, pulsing to life. I could never blame him. He saved me even if he doesn’t know it.

  Swallowing, I speak with quiet conviction, turning to stare into his deeply pained eyes. “Alexander James Grant, stop this right now. I’m going to say this only once, so I want you to listen.” I pause, sucking in a breath. Alex’s eyes are wide, a slight edge of surprise washing over his handsome face.

  “You were doing your job. I knew that place wasn’t right, and I went anyway. That’s on me and no one else. There is nothing . . . I repeat nothing for me to forgive you for.” Exhaling, I watch as his brow furrows as he works through what I’ve said. Still, he’s at war with himself, fighting over the need to blame himself for things out of his control.

  “You did save me . . .” I start but pause when he inhales sharply.

  Meeting his violet irises, there’s a question in his eyes asking if it’s possibly true. Could this be his chance at redemption? Nodding, I smile and bring my hand to his face, delighting in the stubble gracing his strong jaw. Sighing, he closes his eyes, leaning further into my hand.

  “It’s true, you saved me even if you don’t realize it. There were times that I was so out of it. So . . . broken that I would retreat into my mind to find sanctuary. Do you know what I would find when I did?” Opening his eyes, he meets mine and gives his head a little shake.

  “You, Alex. It was you.” Alex blows out a heavy breath, unshed tears shining in his violet eyes.

  “No matter what happened to my body, no matter what they did to me, I always came back to you. You saved me, Alex. Kept me strong when I wanted to be weak. Told me time and time again how much you loved me. But the one thing that brought me back every single time was the conviction in your voice when you said . . .” My voice wavers, the pressure behind my eyes to much as the silent tears begin to fall. “When you said you were coming for me.”

  His breath hitches as he pulls me into his chest. Murmuring into my hair, he says, “I will always come for you, Goddess. Always.”

  “I know, baby.” Tilting my head back, I place soft kisses along his jaw. Groaning, he peers down at me with a hooded gaze. “Mmmm. I’ve missed that. But now’s not the time. We have somewhere to be. Unless you don’t want to come. I’ll understand if you’d rather not go.”

  “I-I don’t understand. Am I allowed to go anywhere?”

  Alex smiles down at me, a smile so brilliant my chest constricts as I desperately try to remember to breathe. Excitement fills his voice when he says, “Yes, you’ve been discharged. Your father is taking care of everything now.”

  “I get to leave!” I excitedly exclaim. It’s the first time in six weeks I’ve had any type of reaction, and it feels awkward as the smile sweeps across my face. Alex’s shock at my outburst is quickly masked with a wide, lopsided grin. One filled with joy, elation, and the hope of what’s to come.

  “That you do, Goddess. I do have a favor to ask, though. Like I said, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” The somberness in his tone sends chills dancing along my spine.

  “What is it?” I probe, hoping to put an end to his sullen mood.

  “It took six weeks and a lot of red tape, but they finally straightened out everything.” Blowing out a frustrated breath, he fixes his gaze on the far wall.

  “Straightened out what?” I ask tentatively.

  “In order to prevent an international incident, they had to make it look like a training accident.” Anger seeps into his voice as he pauses, breathing rapidly. Understanding hits me like a wrecking ball, bringing fresh swells of pain with it. Reaching out, I take hold of his hand, weaving our fingers together.

  Several minutes pass before he turns his sorrowful gaze my way. Peering deeply into my eyes, he says, “We’re sending N-Noah home today. I don’t know if I can do it alone.” His voice breaks, quavering with emotion at his friend’s name.

  “You’re not alone, and you never will be. You have me, the guys, and you’ve clearly won over my dad,” I say with a smile.

  Alex puffs out a watery laugh. “I don’t want to force you to go. Baby, you’ve been through so much already. I can’t bear to put you through anything more.”

  “Hey,” I say, grasping his face firmly with both of my hands. “I will only do what I can handle. But this . . . I need this as much as any of you. No, I didn’t know him like you or the rest of the guys, but we had a connection. He was special.”

  “He always did have a way with the ladies.” Alex chuckles.

  Narrowing my eyes in mock anger, I retort, “Hey now, don’t you go poking fun at Noah just because you don’t have game.”

  Alex’s body quakes as he lets out a rumble of laughter. After a few moments, his laughter dies down, his voice once again somber. “You sound like him. I’m going to miss him. I don’t know how we’ll survive
without him. He was the laughter, the fun, and Brighton . . . Shit, Kylee, Brighton was his best friend, and I don’t know if he can handle this along with Sasha.”

  “Who is Sasha?” Alex’s eyes shift away from mine as guilt consumes his features.

  “That’s not my story to tell, Goddess. I’m afraid you’re going to have to ask him on this one.”

  A small pang of irritation prickles at the nape of my neck, working its way through my body. If he has someone else and is stringing Emma along, I swear to all that is holy I will gut him. Apparently, what I thought had been a single thought floating through my mind was said aloud.

  Alex lets out a sorrow-filled laugh. “It’s not what you think, I promise. But, you should ask him. Maybe . . . Maybe he will talk to you.” Alex places a kiss on my forehead just as the door creaks, signaling someone’s entrance. I stiffen in his arms, each muscle tensing involuntarily.

  Alex traces little circles along my spine as he whispers, “I’ve got you, and you’re safe. No one will harm you ever again.” Instantly, I relax into his embrace, our bodies melding together once more.

  My father steps through the entryway, striding toward the edge of the bed, bag in hand. Scrunching my brow, I scrutinize my father’s appearance. He’s wearing his Dress Blues, which makes sense since we’re sending Noah home. But his ocean blue eyes hold a deep sorrow that wasn’t there before. Dark circles under his eyes mark the sleepless nights he’s had, and his jaw has had a rough shave. A pang of sadness crushes me as I stare at his tired face.

  He’s been affected just as deeply as I have. Healing, hmph . . . Yeah, load of good that does when your mind chooses not to let things go. Putting on a smile to try and take away some of the strain, I greet him in a cheery voice. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Hi, Princess.” The deep tenor of his voice never fails to bring back the good memories of us when I was a child.

  “Whatcha got?” I probe, looking pointedly at the bag.