Lies & Devotion (Blood and Iron Warriors Book 3)

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Lies & Devotion (Blood and Iron Warriors Book 3) Page 25

by Kat Kenyon

“Let me in bitches.”

  Tyler shakes his head at me when Ethan’s voice comes through the door. “Nobody ordered stanky cheese. Go away and take the smell with you.”

  “Open up, pretty boy, or I’ll drop a load that will stink up things out here.”

  My eyes hurt from rolling them so hard. Tyler snorts at the door like he wants to reach through it and smack Ethan.

  “We have food, now open up.” Thump thump thump. “Ain’t nobody got time for you to primp. Don’t worry, we all know you hot. You ain’t gotta be worried about proving it to us.”

  “Shut up, reprobate,” Tate’s reprimand comes quickly.

  There’s chuckling and shuffling on the other side of the door and then some more thumps before I walk to answer it.

  “Let him sit out there.” Tyler’s gaze narrows as he walks into the living room, flopping onto the couch.

  Shaking my head at him with a laugh, I open the door and find Ethan braced against the doorjamb with a playful smile on his face.

  “Okay, where’s the food?” I ask, holding out my hand.

  “Were you always such a mercenary?” he responds, sticking his face into mine.

  Grinning, I nod. “Yes.”

  “She isn’t supposed to let you in at all,” yells Tyler.

  Ethan’s head drops back, his mouth falling open sarcastically. “Ugh. You are sooo difficult at times, Pretty. Why you gotta do me like that?” Slapping the doorjamb, he walks through, giving me a quick peck on the top of the head, clearing the door for Tate, Tegs, Mike, Kevin, Bay, and Kris to follow behind him, who all give me hugs and have food and backpacks with them.

  “He’s a menace,” Tate says, pointing at Ethan.

  He touches a hand to his chest in mock pain. “Ah.”

  “Don’t.” She laughs. “You mean to be a menace.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m a little extra,” he says with an evil grin spreading.

  “No. I’m extra. Like that little bit of ice cream they give you with pie. I’m the whipped cream with hot chocolate…I’m that. What you want, what you need, what you crave. Extra good.” She flips her hair like a champ. “You’re the accidentally dumped whole salt shaker in a sauce. Or the marshmallow that caught fire and charred all the way to the center. You’re too much.” Her hands come up like she wants to strangle him.

  “Lots of people like charred marshmallows and who wants just a little bit of ice cream?” He gives me a smirk, letting me know he’s doing this on purpose.

  “Nope.” Tegs grabs her around the waist and plops her in a chair on the other side of the coffee table, then points at Ethan. “I’ll take you down and pull your boxers up so hard you’ll find them coming out of your mouth if you get her going. We have homework to do and class in the morning. We’re eating and working; you are not sidetracking her with your bullshit.”

  Snapping a salute at Tegs, he gives Tate a wink. “Yes, sir.”

  Six pizzas, one pasta salad, and a healthy family-sized grain bowl down and we keep working until Tyler’s phone beeps.

  “No. Whoever it is can go fuck themselves,” Bay says, pointing at the offending device. “Every time that thing goes off, you end up pissed.”

  “Shut up. It’s a message from Neil.”

  “Don’t care.” Bay shakes his head. “They never have anything good to say.”

  Tyler’s head drops back in resignation. He and I agree with Bay, but he can’t ignore it. Snapping his head forward he looks at the screen. For a moment, his face remains blank. Seconds tick by before he reads it again and his brows rise, his eyes shift to me. “Baby, turn it to channel two and turn it up.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it,” he says, getting up and opening the door.

  Looking around the room, I flip it to our local CBS station, expecting to see anything but what’s playing.

  The screen is full of police and white lights from television and print. The cameras are in front of a nondescript building flanked by officers and reporters engaged in a push and pull, trying to get closer to three huge, black SUVs that just pulled up to the building.

  No one has gotten out of the vehicles, but as I turn up the volume, my heart races. Connections that have been dead for weeks flare to life.

  “They’re telling us they have him, Bill. While we haven’t seen anything yet, our sources say those SUVs are there to turn him in.”

  The news ticker streams past and I realize it’s not my imagination. My knees buckle under me and I start to fall, only to be caught by Tyler, who pulls me into his arms, sliding us to the floor.

  “It’s real,” he whispers in my ear, rocking me back and forth. “They caught him, baby. Neil and Sam, they caught him.”

  My head shakes until he tells me again…and I can’t believe it. Until the doors of the front and back SUVs open and Neil and Sam get out, moving to the center vehicle, opening the back door.

  With no kindness, they yank a dirty and black-eyed Gabe Stevens out into the flashing lights. Hands zip-tied behind his back so he can’t use them to hide, they march him past journalists and flashing cameras looking to broadcast his image.

  “Shh, baby, shh. I’ve got you.”

  “I’m…” I’m not okay, but…they caught him. And that’s everything.

  Tyler’s thumbs wipe away streams of tears. “I love you,” he whispers, so quietly only I can hear it.

  In silence, we watch the news ticker words scroll, announcing the capture and booking of the fugitive, Gabriel Stevens, wanted for the brutal beating and sexual assault of his fellow classmate and former girlfriend. This time when they show the side by side, it’s my senior picture next to a screen capture of his beaten face, as Vindex roughly force him to move, while the announcers wonder if he fought rather than come in peacefully.

  The coverage isn’t kind now that he doesn’t look like the perfect collegiate dream. They’re harsh and unforgiving until another car arrives.

  Once his father shows up and tries to push through the school of reporters, it’s like throwing chum into the water, and they respond like it’s a feeding frenzy. Lobbing questions, shoving cameras in his face, they scream how horrible his son is and ask what responsibility he has for Gabe’s actions.

  As much as I dislike him, I feel bad. The media are disgusting and cruel, given that he just lost his wife. Besides, Gabe alone is responsible for what Gabe’s done. No one else. Certainly not his fath—

  Gabe is responsible.

  No one else.

  I’m not to blame.

  A shudder runs through me as it hits me harder and more honestly than before. Staring at a man who helped make my life more terrifying, I don’t blame him for what his son has done, and I feel my guilt lift from my shoulders.

  “Baby?” His arms stiffen, voice tight with concern.

  My body’s shaking, but it’s not with tears. A laugh that seems out of place bubbles up from the pit of my stomach. “I’m okay.”

  His arms lock around me tighter, an unasked question on his lips, even as Tate’s unfiltered one breaks the quiet of the room. “Do you want us to disappear or get you popcorn, because whichever you want, we’ll do it. If you need Excedrin or an effigy, we got you.”

  “We know how to burn shit,” pops off Mike.

  In unison, the university’s chant sounds off, “Burn it down.”

  With Tyler’s arms around me and the flashing news ticker announcing the booking of Gabriel Stevens for first degree sexual assault and attempted murder, I sit and slowly let go of my guilt and shame.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Tyler Blackman

  Vindex caught Gabe in a rundown motel, and he’s been arraigned. He wasn’t alone. Beth, Rayne’s coworker from Dixon is being charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive, which explains some things that made no sense in the fall. They’ve scheduled the trials for October, and we’ll face it together, and see him put behind bars for what he’s done.

  The judge dismissed Lawrence Matthews’s pe
tition, telling Mathews he was appalled at the lack of interest he’d displayed until it damaged his reputation. We expected him to stop the support payments, but apparently, it wasn’t up to him. His wife, Beatrice showed up at the courthouse. Without raising her voice, she put an end to the bullshit. She wasn’t happy her granddaughter’s existence had been kept from her and she’s looking for a chance to know Rayne, but my girl isn’t ready.

  There’s a lot she isn’t ready for, but she’s better. We’re better.

  We’re back in class.

  We’re back in rhythm.

  We’re just…back.

  And we’re ready to face what’s coming. Because it’s far from over.

  I’m sure you hate me at this point, but I hope you love Tyler and Rayne. Their story started from real place and grew, and your time reading the book means the world to me.

  Please consider posting a review. It only takes a couple minutes, but makes a huge difference to a new author. I promise no bitching.

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  Acknowledgments

  There are real people who have stuck with me for the long haul, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Lisa GF, Erin Rowley, and Kristy Stalter deBoer: I don’t know what I would have done without you. Your willingness to send me encouragement, and to redline things that didn’t work is more than anyone could have hoped for.

  My Westside Cleveland Writing Group…Thank you for being my people. For days writing and not, and staying ride or die even when it sucks.

  Rachel Pelkey, thank you for stepping into the breach with my broken-down ass this year as my PA. It will get easier and busier.

  To the amazing professionals who worked with me on this book, thank you for being part of the ride:

  Karen Lawson: Thank you so much for agreeing to step in at the last minute to edit a book that I have no doubt has left you with a WTF. Bless you.

  Marla Esposito: I feel like I went backward, I’m so sorry, lol.

  Shannon Passmore: It’s been a year for us, but we made it. I’m glad we rode it out together.

  Shelly Duncan: Three covers down…we’re going to need that next shoot.

  Madison Kramig: I don’t know what I’d do without you fixing so many different parts of…everything, And just, being there. I could not possibly tell you how much that means to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  About the Author

  Kat graduated from Cleveland-Marshall and Oregon State, go Beavers! After first attending University of Oregon. Go Ducks! As a political science major. Lord help us.

  As a child, she constantly had her face buried in a book, and loved mythology, religion, politics, and a plethora of other areas, depending on her mood. Not much has changed.

  Upcoming books by Kat Kenyon

  Universe 1

  Dylan (Blood and Iron Warrios:War Hawks: Book 4)

  Universe 2

  The Curse of Damien Angel (Curses & Catastrophes: Book 1)

  The Catastrophe at Knorrs Dam (Curses & Catastrophes: Book 2)

 

 

 


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