by Chelle Bliss
“I hear ya,” I muttered, but I wasn’t convinced. We wouldn’t be at the hospital right now if I’d kept my ass put instead of dragging Cara all the way across the country with me.
“Dale knew what he was getting into. The man is tougher than anyone I know. He’s going to be fine.”
I wondered if he said the words for me or to comfort himself, but I didn’t bother asking. “You look like shit,” I said because I didn’t have anything else worth saying. We all looked like we’d been to hell and back.
“Feel like it too.” He almost cracked a smile. “Listen, I’ll take care of the cops. I know they’re probably on their way.”
“Fuck. We better get our story straight.” I hadn’t even thought about the police or the media who would be on this story once they heard my brother was involved.
“It was a horrible hunting accident gone wrong,” he told me. “You hear me?” He waited a minute, long enough for me to nod before he continued. “I don’t want anyone going up there while we wait for Johnny.”
“Understood. Who shot Dale?” I asked because there was no way I wanted to be the one to fuck up the lie.
“Can’t tell. We both were by each other’s side and shot in the same direction, not knowing he was across the field.”
“You think that shit will fly?”
“It’ll work. Shit like that happens every day.”
“But…” I said, glancing down at our torn clothes covered in blood from the fight with Vinnie’s men.
“Dale’s blood. Tears are from when we carried him through the thick forest.”
I shrugged, figuring his explanation worked, and between the story and his celebrity, the cops wouldn’t dig too deep. We didn’t have to worry about the Seattle police knowing Cara or the trouble her family brought with the name, so at least that point wasn’t a dead giveaway.
The nurse walked into the room, a metal binder clutched in her hands as she scanned the name, calling “the Reynolds family,” with her eyes still on the chart. She moved her gaze around the waiting room, only half filled with impatient families then nodded when Gin shot up, darting toward her.
Kane followed behind Gin, raising his hand. “We’re here.”
She nodded and gave him and Kit a quick smile when they joined Gin. The woman ignored everyone but my brother and his woman, likely recognizing them like most everybody around here did. “He’s settled in his room now and finally coming out of the anesthesia. You can go up. He’s in room 417.”
She barely got the number out before Gin was in the hallway, Kane, with Kit at his side, hot on her heels. I grabbed Cara, placing my hand at the small of her back, and walked behind them, keeping silent because I hadn’t processed everything yet. The hospital wasn’t the place to discuss what happened and how we were going to deal with the situation still at the house.
Kane froze as we stepped off the elevator, and my eyes followed his gaze. Fuck.
“Let me handle everything,” Kane told us, straightening his shoulders and stepping in front of Gin. “Not a word from any of you.”
“I’ll help,” I called out, but he turned around and growled. “Let’s go, ladies,” I said, sweeping my arms out and ushering them away from the officers and inside.
A woman stood over Dale’s bed dressed in scrubs, holding his hand like they were having a moment.
“What the fuck?” Gin whispered as her body tensed, throwing my hand off her shoulder.
The woman turned and glared at Gin. Clearly, they knew each other, but I had no idea from where. “Gin,” the woman said, lifting her chin as her eyes raked down the redhead’s body.
Gin stepped forward, her hands at her sides but balled tight like she was about to go off and clock the nurse right in the face. “You shouldn’t be here, Trudy.”
Trudy crossed her arms, tilting her head with a sneer, acting as though she didn’t give two shits if Gin was going to hit her. “He’s my husband. I have every right to be here.”
I rocked back on my heels, glancing down at Cara, who looked just as shocked as me. I’d heard of Trudy. Dale never had a thing good to say about her, and I understood why. She’d been a lousy wife, and now was a piece of trash Dale couldn’t get loose from. Dale hated her, but he never said much else except for the one time we got him so drunk he spilled the entire dirty story.
“Your ex-husband,” Gin corrected her as she moved to the foot of Dale’s bed.
If the room hadn’t been so crowded with unwanted hospital employees, I’d have thought the expression on Dale’s face was hilarious when he began to stir. There was a lazy, goofy grin pulling up his mouth, and by the way he laughed and waggled his eyebrows at us, it was clear the man was still high as a kite from the anesthesia.
His gaze moved between the two women, but he didn’t speak or try to defuse the situation. There was nothing to do but watch the drama unfold. This would be bad. I could feel it in my gut. Very fucking bad. At times like this, with two women about to throw down, my brother needed to be here.
“Ladies,” I said and stepped forward, ready to give it a shot. “Maybe we should…”
“Who the fuck are you?” Dale’s ex-wife asked, turning her icy glare toward me.
“Get the fuck out,” Gin told Trudy before I had a chance to answer.
“Baby,” Trudy turned toward Dale, grabbing his hand again, “do you want me to go?” she asked, her voice so sugary sweet it gave me a toothache. This bitch was good and knew exactly what she was doing.
Dale blinked slowly and out of sync, pressing his head back into the pillow that looked entirely too small behind his head. “Nah, baby.” He brought Trudy’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You’re my wife.”
Oh fuck.
That one word seemed to do nearly as much damage to Gin as the bullets Vinnie had shot into Dale’s gut. Eyebrows up in surprise, I couldn’t move my head, too shocked and too worried what would happen next. A few seconds later, I glanced around to the shocked faces surrounding me as the air seemed to rush from the room. Dale was going to hate himself once the meds wore off and he realized how badly he fucked up.
“See.” Trudy grinned, reminding me of a girlie, petty Cheshire cat as she kept her hand in his, letting him kiss her repeatedly. “I have every right to be here. Don’t I, baby?” She used a voice that reminded me of the forced sweetness dripping from my little cousin’s preschool teachers back in the day. The sound made bile rise in the back of my throat.
Gin’s expression could only be described as seething. Her pale skin brightened to a pink, and her neck and chest flushed. If that bitch kept fake smiling at the redhead the way she was, someone was gonna get hurt. I’d put money on Gin winning any day of the week.
Needing to do something before security was called, I moved toward Trudy, grabbing her by the arm, forceful but not cruel. “You need to leave.” She struggled against me as I moved her away from Dale.
“You going to make me?” She laughed. “I work here. You’re the one that’s going to leave. Not me.”
“I can’t,” Gin said, covering her mouth as her eyes filled with tears.
“Gin.” Kit reached for her, but Gin batted her hands away and rushed out the door. “Fuck me,” Kit hissed and rubbed her hand down her face, knowing the shitstorm this was going to cause later, just like I did. Kit exhaled as she moved toward Trudy. “You’re a bitch, Trudy. Nothing but a trashy whore. You’d better get the hell out of here before I kick your ass.”
“Kiel, why the hell’ve you got your hands on my woman?” Dale asked, and everyone in the room turned toward him.
The guy, as big as he was, looked small somehow on that bed, his beard a scruffy mess. Those eyes seemed brighter somehow, the blue shining against the fluorescent light above. And when he narrowed his eyes, top lip curled as he looked at my hand on Trudy’s arm, despite his stupid grin, I shook my head. No way he knew what he was saying. Not as high as he was. The man hated this woman, but his question still had the faces ar
ound the room looking shocked, disbelieving, except for Trudy, who seemed to relish the compliment, soaking it up like the bitch Dale had promised she was.
I dropped my hand from her arm, defusing the situation so he wouldn’t try to climb out of the bed. An agitated Dale wasn’t a good thing, especially right after surgery. He had enough meds in him he probably felt like Superman. “Dude, shut the fuck up.”
He made a face at me, mocking the way I spoke as he latched on to Trudy’s hand again, yanking her toward him. “I’ve missed you,” he said, staring at her with puppy-dog eyes.
I glanced up at the ceiling and scrubbed my hand down my face, cursing under my breath at the stupidity of the entire situation. What the hell was taking my brother so long? He’d know what to do. He’d wrangle everybody in.
“Why did Gin run out of here?” Kane asked, entering the room behind me on heavy footsteps. “Oh hell no. Not happening,” he said, moving quickly. Kane walked right past me and stood toe-to-toe with Trudy, shooting a glare at her that had to make the woman nervous. “Get the fuck out.” He took a step, and the woman walked backward, looking at Dale on the bed, then around to the rest of us as though we might help. “It’s time for you to find some other dick to jump on. Your gravy train ended a long time ago.”
“Kane.” Dale smiled again, his mouth lopsided. “Look who showed up. It’s my wife.” He seemed just as shocked as the rest of us to see her, but happy…and high.
“Shut up, Dale,” Kane growled.
Kit grabbed Trudy by the arm and moved her hand away from Dale. “Honey, there’s no room for you in his life. You either leave, or I’m going to make you.”
This was a side I didn’t often see from Kit, but I liked every damn second of it. She was fiery and a perfect match for my brother. She kind of reminded me of Cara. Neither my brother nor I liked our women weak, and we paid for that shit too.
Trudy tipped her head back, almost cackling. “He wants me here. I can’t leave him when he needs me.”
Cara slid against my side, curling into my ribs and placing her hand on my stomach. “My money’s on Kit,” she whispered, staring up at me as I looked down, kissing her forehead.
Kit twisted Trudy’s arm, ignoring how the woman whined as she shoved her toward the door. “I’m taking out the trash,” she said, smiling as Trudy tried to get away, but Kit’s grip was just too tough.
“Holy shit,” I whispered and reminded myself never to mess with Kit. She hauled that girl outside like she was a tiny kid throwing a temper tantrum.
“She’s small but mighty,” Kane said as I stood there with Cara in my arms and my mouth hanging open. “How bad is the damage?”
“Doctor hasn’t come in yet.”
Kane pressed his fingers against his eyes and shook his head. “No, dumbass. Dale. What’d he say?”
“You don’t want to know, brother.”
“Bad,” Cara said. “Really bad.”
“Fuck.” Kane rubbed the back of his neck, pacing on the side of Dale’s bed. “You dumb fuck. I can’t believe after all this time you…”
Dale blinked a few times before he rubbed his eyes with the sides of his fists. “What’d I do?”
“Trudy.” Kane motioned toward the door. “I never thought you’d go down that road again.”
“Kane, he’s drugged, man. Give him a break,” I said. I’d been there, and you couldn’t control the shit that came out of your mouth after surgery. It was worse than being drunk.
“Tomorrow he’s going to wish that bullet killed him.” I nodded in agreement before Kane turned back toward Dale. “Thank God you’re okay. I can’t imagine if…” He didn’t finish the statement. He didn’t have to. We were all thinking the same thing.
“Where’s Gin?” Dale asked, finally sobering up, but a little too late to avoid causing massive damage. “Gotta see my Gingerbread.”
“Oh boy.” Cara’s hand slipped under my shirt, her fingernails tracing the dip in my spine. “This is going to get interesting.”
Kane looked at Dale with a straight face. “You better get well quick, ‘cause you’re going to be on your knees groveling to fix this shit.”
“Fix what?” Dale asked, jerking his head back and wincing in pain.
“You’ll see.”
17
Cara
The trek back up the mountain wasn’t the easy trip it had been the first night Kiel brought me here. A light blanket of snow had collected and stuck to the ground the night before, and ice had formed along the creek. But there was nothing to be done. We’d been found out.
The flight attendant, it turned out, had been bought off the second I canceled plans with Vinnie the first time. He’d been wary, I supposed, and had set about trying to bribe everyone affiliated with my family. The night janitor at the museum, my father’s newest driver, the new flight attendant, all had been paid to keep the asshole up to date with where I went and who came with me.
The woman had been confronted, Johnny informed me when he called the next morning after the attack. “She paid off the parking attendant who’d overheard Kiel mention the cabin. Didn’t take much for Vinnie to find out the location.”
Also didn’t take much for the news to break that cable tv’s darling DIYers had been caught up in a shooting accident, as Kit and Kane’s handlers were spinning it. That meant media. That meant invasive questions and virtually no privacy at the hospital, any Seattle hotels, or at Kane’s, Kit’s, Gin’s, or Dale’s places.
“Go back to the cabin,” my brother had suggested, sounding confident that no one would put up much of a fight. “I’ll handle the security.”
If Johnny had ideas about who should watch over us, he didn’t share them or even encourage much relief as all of us, excluding Dale who still had a few more days in the hospital, made the slow hike toward the cabin.
“Dale will never be able to swing this without the ATV,” Kane remarked, wincing a little as he moved up the trail in front of us.
“Or, we’ll luck out, and Dale will stay in Seattle,” Gin supplied, her anger still fierce and prickling through the frown she wore and the bite in her tone. “Or he can rot in freakin’ hell where he belongs.” She brushed off the pat Kit gave her and moved ahead of us.
“Shit, does she have a temper or what?” Kiel said, sounding half amazed.
“You got no idea,” Kit answered.
When the cabin came into view and we spotted the small congregation of men flanked out around the property, we all stopped. Even Gin backed away despite her anger and waited for Kane and Kiel to take the lead. There were at least a dozen men in dark jeans and thick black coats circling the edge of the property line and along the back of the cabin. They wore shades, all of them, and didn’t react when the Kaino men started up the stairs, nodding us along.
“The hell?” Kane started, then went quiet as we entered the cabin. He whistled, head shaking as we moved inside. “Unbelievable.”
We’d left the place in a mess. Blood had left stains on the walnut floors and splinters of wood and glass were scattered around the room and embedded into the wool area rug. There were balcony chairs askew and upturned stools left on their sides or broken altogether. We’d had no time to tidy a thing.
Now, though, nothing was out of place. There were no stains, no broken glass, or splintered wood. The rug was spotless, freshly shampooed from the looks of it, and the broken island stools and balcony chairs had all been replaced or repaired.
As we came farther inside, all fascinated by the cleanliness of the place, I spotted the open glass door, exhaling when I noticed my brother Johnny leaning against the railing, flicking ashes from his cigar over the side.
He was impossibly annoying and a huge pain in the ass, but he was still my big brother. I loved him, the big jackass, and I didn’t stop myself when my feet moved, jogging toward him. He turned, arms spread wide to pull me into his embrace.
“Ah, rella,” he soothed, giving me a tight squeeze and a kiss on the head. Imme
diately, I flushed, realizing just how relieved my brother was. When we were kids, he couldn’t pronounce his S’s very well so “sorella,” Italian for sister, came out as “rella.” He only called me that when he wanted me to know how much he loved me. But Johnny was a macho asshole too. Bossy beyond belief and the hug was paused as he pushed me back, holding my arms outstretched as he fussed over me, examining, clicking his tongue, head shaking. “You could have been killed! Cazzo, Cara.”
“Shut up,” I told him, laying my head against his chest again. There had been so much blood, and more than once during the past few days, I’d wondered if there would ever be a chance for me to see my brother again. I wondered if the last words my papa ever spoke to me would be the demand that I leave his house. “Just hug me a little, you stronzo.”
“Hell,” Johnny breathed. He curved his arms around me as he whispered low, private things I’d never heard him speak to anyone.
Behind us, Kiel cleared his throat, bringing my attention back to him. I stepped away from my brother and went to Kiel’s side as Kane joined us on the balcony. “You put that shit out, and we can have a conversation inside, Carelli,” Kane offered, and my brother stiffened, barely moving his head to acknowledge my brother-in-law.
We moved out of the cold and into the clean living room as Johnny followed, shutting the glass door behind him. He kept watch on the balcony, his gaze shooting out to the snow-capped trees and the creek in the distance.
“It’s nice,” Johnny started, finally turning to face Kiel and his brother. At the kitchen island, Gin had already cracked open a bottle of red, and Kit was helping her with the glasses. My brother nodded behind him, standing in the center of the room, his hands deep in his pockets. “Quiet? No one bothering you?” Kane nodded but didn’t speak otherwise, something Johnny seemed fine with.
“Know what’s bothering me?” Gin asked behind a sip of wine. She stared at Johnny. I caught a small twitch in his cheek as he looked at her.
