Out of Love, page 22
Wylder
I hid just behind the front door threshold, peeking around the corner and through the half-screen door at Abe, but he was just out of shot on the driver’s side of Livy’s Jeep.
“Leave your dick out of this, son, and just give me the girl. Or even just part of her. I’m good with you keeping a souvenir too.”
I said nothing. I was trained to say nothing. By. Him.
Assassins weren’t negotiators. A predator’s greatest assets were patience and silence. One time, I stood with a gun and my eye glued to the scope of it for over seven hours waiting for the shot. As long as I had a pulse, I knew I’d stand silently and patiently to protect Livy.
“Your father loved Livy’s grandmother. They were childhood sweethearts. Sunny was the love of Knox’s life. She moved on when he took another tour of duty, but she never loved her husband the way she loved your dad. And he always knew it. Jackson found out, and he just couldn’t handle it. So he killed Knox. That’s the blood running through Livy’s veins. Are you really going to fight for that? You willing to die for that? If we don’t make him pay … justice will never be served. And the only way to get justice is to take everything from him, the way he took everything from you, from Mary, from me.”
I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, gripping the gun with both hands.
“He’s coming. Jackson. I’m sure he’ll be here soon. I had eyes on him, and he was at your place this morning. We both know he’s tracking her Jeep. But something tells me you planned on that … hence the reason you brought her here in it and not your vehicle. He’s the best at what he does. Even now … he’ll take you out from a hundred yards away with one hand tied behind his back and blindfolded. And that’s not even his specialty. He’s good with his hands. If he gets within five feet of you, he’ll disarm you and snap your neck before your brain has a chance to tell your finger to pull the trigger.”
Taking a deep inhale, I let it out slowly, staying perfectly still.
“Don’t get me wrong. You’re good. Someday you might even be better than him, but not today. He’s smarter. And you have his daughter. I’m certain we’re about to see a version of Jackson Knight … Jude Day … that no one has ever seen before. So put a bullet in the girl’s head and take your place at my side. It’s where you belong. We are family.”
Maybe what he said was true. Maybe it was a lie to scare me. Maybe it was all a game to get in my head.
What we did agree on … Jackson was on his way, and I wasn’t on Abe’s team, and Jackson wasn’t going to be on mine. There would be a fight for Livy, and I couldn’t allow that. Sliding down the wall, I adjusted the strap of the rifle, shifting it to my back. Then I army crawled to the kitchen toward the bathroom so Abe didn’t see me through the windows or the solid bottom half of the screen door. Once around the corner, I stood and turned the handle to the bathroom door. It was locked.
“Livy,” I whispered, gently tapping the door. “Open the door.”
The knob clicked and I turned the handle, easing it open. She and Jericho were on the floor, her eyes swollen from all the tears.
“Come here,” I said softly, holding out my hand.
She stared at it for a few moments, arms hugging her knees to her chest. Without looking me in the eye, she took my hand and let me pull her to standing.
I grabbed her face forcing her gaze upward. “You need to go out the back door. Go into the woods with Jericho. Don’t stop; keep going until you get to a main road. It’s going to be a few miles down the way.” I pulled a burner phone from my pocket and handed it to her. “Call your friends. Call the police. Call anyone you can trust, but no matter what … don’t turn around. Don’t come back here.”
“My dad …”
I shook my head. “He’s not here, but he’s on his way. Abe is outside. It’s going to be too dangerous for you. Abe wants you and your dad dead. I want Abe dead. And your dad will kill anything that tries to get in his way of getting to you.”
Before she could respond, I took her hand and checked around the corner before leading her and Jericho to the back door, easing it open slowly and surveying the backside of the cabin. “It’s clear. Go.”
Jericho led the way, going down the three steps and stopping to wait for Livy.
She clenched the phone in her hand, staring at it for a few seconds before giving me those brown eyes to adore one last time. “Wylder,” she whispered.
“Go, Livy.” I didn’t let my heart sway my determination to get her to safety. I gave her an emotionless expression and a firm command.
“Wyld—” she started to speak again.
“Three shots. You tried to kill me three times. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind, put a bullet in your head, and let Abe kill your dad.”
She took in a shaky breath, dropped her gaze, and turned. I watched my whole fucking world disappear into the trees, wearing my favorite T-shirt while following my best friend.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jackson Knight
I parked a mile away and jogged through the mountain terrain to Livy’s location. Abe would know I was coming, and if Slade had even a fraction of the training that Jess and I had received by his age, then he, too, would know I’d be coming for my daughter. So I made my way there knowing they were baiting me.
They’d be waiting for me. They’d been waiting for me for years.
Stalking.
Preying on my family.
And it was going to end even if I had to lose my own life to keep her safe and avenge the death of Ryn.
From the insane number of weapons in Slade’s basement, I knew he’d be heavily armed. Stopping fifty yards out, I used the pair of binoculars I stole from the basement to scope out the situation.
“Fucking amateur,” I mumbled catching sight of Abe hunched down beside Livy’s Jeep with a semi-automatic rifle clenched in his hands. I would have taken his ass out right there on the spot had I known the exact location of my daughter. I couldn’t risk it if Slade had her. Setting him off by killing his uncle before I had Livy under my protection wasn’t an acceptable option.
I continued to survey the area, looking for the slightest movement, a shadow in the window … anything.
Nothing.
Holding a gun in one hand and a knife in my other hand, I trekked closer to the cabin. Why was Abe outside as if he was stalking his own nephew? Something didn’t feel right, but time wasn’t on my side. Pushing that uneasy feeling aside, I veered around to come in from the opposite side of the Jeep, but I still was uneasy about Slade and his whereabouts with Livy. Changing the plan, I trekked a bigger circle to the backside of the cabin. If I could get Livy, I’d use two bullets and head home with my daughter.
If …
Easing up the backstairs with two swift steps, I listened at the door, but I heard nothing. Off to the side, I turned the handle slowly, praying the stupid thing didn’t creak when I opened it.
Once inside, I inched my way down the small hall, checking the bathroom before entering the kitchen with my gun pointed forward and my knife readied in my left hand. My movements stopped when a set of dark eyes locked on me along with the third eye … the barrel of a gun.
Slade stood to the left of the screen door, a peculiar situation. If they were working together, their set up was shit. He said nothing.
I remembered those days … eyeing my target for hours if necessary, never saying a word, no matter what. Fortunately, I played by a different set of rules. I was no longer an assassin. Just a dad picking his girl up from a cabin outside of LA.
“Livy?” I said her name calmly, using my best father-ese.
Slade said nothing.
“If I don’t hear her voice soon, I’ll have to assume she’s dead. If she’s dead, this will be the worst fucking day of your life because I won’t kill you. I’ll spend the next month right here with you and that fuckup hiding by the Jeep, torturing you until your heart gives out because you just can’t handle any more pain. And even then, you’d only know a fraction of the pain I’ve felt since you took my wife. Now … where is my daughter?”
It was like looking in a goddamn mirror. Not only did my daughter find a guy who had an eerily physical resemblance to me in my twenties, she found a guy who didn’t flinch, blink, or so much as swallow. It was hard to put the fear of God in someone’s eyes when they didn’t believe in a god. Slade clearly didn’t believe in a god, and he wasn’t afraid to die.
“She’s not here, is she?”
I took a step forward, gaining an odd admiration for the young man staring me down like I was nothing but a fly buzzing around his head. I wondered what his number was. We all had a number. Mine was five. I let my prey get within five feet of me before I’d strike. Most others had bigger numbers like eight or ten.
Not me. I liked to draw them in so close I could feel the warmth of their skin, hear the exchange of their breaths, and kill them with my bare hands.
I took three more steps, reducing the distance to about six feet, keeping my body just to the left of the window, but still to the right of the screen door—out of Abe’s sight.
One more step.
Slade’s left hand lifted, pointing two guns at me. Five … what were the chances that the kid’s number was five like mine?
“If she’s not here, I can’t let you live.” I shrugged. It wasn’t my fault. Everyone needed rules. Mine were pretty simple.
“Daddy?”
*
Livy
Slade’s gaze shifted from my dad to me as I took slow steps down the hall toward the kitchen. They stood five feet apart, guns pointed at each other.
Jericho stayed right at my side.
“Hey, baby. I just have a few things to wrap up. I have a score to settle for you and your mom. Why don’t you wait for me in the bathroom,” Dad said like he was asking me what I wanted for dinner.
Slade said nothing with his mouth, but the look on his face conveyed anger. He was angry at me for not following his instructions.
“Please put the guns down. He didn’t kill Mom. Abe did it.” My feet continued toward the two men.
“Doesn’t matter. He was going to try to take you away from me. Weren’t you?”
Wylder gave him nothing. A goddamn iron expression—fearless and steadfast. Why didn’t he plead his case? He didn’t kill my mom. He didn’t know anything about it.
Dad grunted, cocking his head to the side at Slade. “You actually think you love her? Is that why she’s still alive and that fuckup is outside?”
Still … Slade said nothing. Did nothing. Not a blink.
“Well, you’ll have to come through me to get to her.” Dad slid the knife from his left hand into the back of his cargo pants and retrieved a gun from the same spot, handing the gun to me. “Livy, take this and wait in the bathroom. If anyone but me opens the door, pull the trigger.”
“Dad …”
He dropped the gun in his other hand. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m giving him the advantage. Two guns to no guns. Now take it and go.”
My attention stuck to Slade. He made the tiniest nod of his head and slid both guns back into the holster. “Go,” he whispered, eyeing my dad.
I backed up slowly, my heart torn apart, my world on the edge of imploding. As soon as I shut the door. I heard the unmistakable sound of flesh and bones colliding. The grunts. Crash! The thunk of bodies falling to the floor and against the walls, rattling everything else in the house.
“Stop,” I whispered, shaking my head and releasing a new round of emotions. “Stop …” I said a little louder before opening the door.
My eyes homed in on Slade’s back against the kitchen floor as my dad took a menacing step toward him preparing to plant his boot into Slade’s ribs. Slade swiped my dad’s leg, bringing him to the ground. His fists brutally planted into my dad’s face, sending blood splattering along the floor. My dad’s hand cuffed Slade’s throat and they rolled, giving my dad the advantage on top of Slade. I couldn’t tell if Slade was breathing. He gripped my dad’s wrist with one hand while his other hand flew in a hard fist toward my dad’s jaw.
“Stop! STOP!” I ran out of the bathroom as their bodies rolled again.
My dad pulled a knife as Slade lumbered to his feet, his attention and his bloodied face pointed toward me. His eyes landed on my chest, widening like someone infected fear into them. The next few seconds happened in a blink. My gaze started to follow his. That was when I noticed a red dot, like a laser right over my heart. As I glanced up, the world around me erupted into chaos. Slade dove at me. My dad lurched from his position on the floor and buried the blade of his knife in Slade’s leg. He grunted. Retrieving another gun from his holster with one hand, he pointed it behind him while grabbing my shirt with his other hand and pulling me to the ground. Two shots fired at almost the exact same time. Pop. Pop.
Slade fell to the ground at my feet as my dad’s body flew forward, shielding me. A breath later he glanced over his shoulder and climbed off me.
“NO!” I cried when I saw blood saturating Slade’s shirt. As soon as I rolled him over, his left hand stretched across his body, slowly reaching to cover the gunshot wound on his right side. “Wylder!” I pressed my hands over his as if together we could stop the bleeding.
My head lifted and I saw a new monster. A different monster.
My father.
He took the front porch steps with brooding confidence. Abe was on the porch, shot in the leg. Slade shot him as he threw himself in front of the bullet meant for me. The monster’s boot landed in Abe’s face, making him grunt and moan. I couldn’t even see his actual face. It was like my father shattered his nose and mangled all the skin around it.
Abe groaned.
The monster rammed the heel of his boot into Abe’s hand, eliciting a howl as his fingers broke. He knew … I think he’d always known Mom’s death wasn’t an accident. And in that moment the monster inside of him needed revenge.
“My wife. You took my life. You took my daughter’s world.” He kicked him in the side of the head.
I sobbed, turning away, unable to watch my father torture another man. Tears ran down my cheeks, dripping onto Slade’s chest.
Grunts, gasps, and gurgling from Abe’s chest filled my ears, interrupted only by the thud and cracking noise of the new monster’s hands and boots slowly killing him. I thought I knew … I thought I understood my father’s pain after Mom died.
I didn’t.
“Daddy …” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut, feeling at my very core the depth of his pain, like if he broke every one of Abe’s bones, it would bring Mom back. I wanted him to stop because a very selfish part of me didn’t want to believe my father could take another person’s life so brutally. “Please stop …” I knew he couldn’t hear me. Maybe my pleas weren’t for him to stop. Maybe it was my heart begging for the pain to stop—the pain of losing a piece of my father, the pain of losing my mom all over again, the pain of the man who lassoed my soul only to suffocate it before fracturing it and bleeding out beneath my hands.
That warm blood continued to gush out of control between my fingers and his. “No …” I cried. “Don’t you dare die. Don’t you dare.”
Jericho whined, nestling at Slade’s head, resting his snout on his shoulder.
“It’s not over. You don’t get to say when it’s over!” I sobbed.
“Livy, it’s time to go.” Dad rested his hand on my head, stroking my hair like he did when I was young, like he did after Mom died. “It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing we can do.”
“No … no …” I sobbed, interlacing my bloodied fingers with Slade’s.
His eyes blinked heavily, and I felt him squeeze my fingers too. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” I pressed my forehead to his, my tears falling to his face.
Sirens sounded in the distance because of me. I did call for help, but I also went back to the cabin. I followed half of Slade’s instructions. He wouldn’t have been on the floor, fighting for his next breath had I followed all of his instructions.
“Livy. Now! We have to go.” Dad pulled at my arm.
I yanked away from his grip, resting my forehead back on Slade’s. “I knew the gun wasn’t loaded when I pulled the trigger. I knew. I promise I knew …” More sobs ripped through my chest.
“Liv-y …” Wylder said in two weak syllables as he closed his eyes.
They stayed shut. All remaining rigidness in his body released … it surrendered. He surrendered.
“NOOOOO!” My hands released his hands, and they covered his cheeks, smearing his blood everywhere. My lips pressed to his. “Noooo …” I breathed into his mouth, trying so hard to give him more breaths. “I love you back … I love you back … I love … you … back …” I wept as my dad tore me from Wylder’s lifeless body and cradled me in his arms. “Jerry …” I said through my sobs. Abe’s mangled, disfigured, and bloodied body passed through my blurry peripheral vision as Dad hauled me down the porch steps.
My father must have carried me forever. By the time he set me in the back seat of the rental car with Jericho, my tears had dried. So had the blood on my hands. I should have walked away. That day I found the weapons in the dungeon, I should have kept going.
Had I just walked away and let him disappear to protect himself … to protect me … he would have lived.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Livy
Five Years Later
“There’s my favorite patient.” Dr. Jones hugged me.
“Graduation day, huh?” I grinned taking a seat on his sofa as he sat in a side chair.
“You graduated from therapy years ago. I just like seeing you.”
I smiled.
“When are you moving?”
“Tomorrow.” I rubbed my lips together while unwrapping a stick of peppermint gum. I held out the pack to him.
He shook his head as his eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Wow, I had it in my head you weren’t leaving for another few weeks.”
“I’m assisting Timothy Morten on a huge case that goes to trial next month, so they want me there as soon as possible to help prepare.”
