But I didn’t know what the truth was—No. It’s not that. I did know, I’d known for some time. If I tried to tell her, what would happen?
And then my lips parted, and everything ran out of me before I could stop it. My voice was a syrup so thick that I couldn’t clean it up, a stain that would last an eternity.
“I love you, too.” I didn’t whisper it. It wasn’t a shout. Yet my admission rang between us, a song that would become so addicting we’d never forget the lyrics. “Fuck. I love you.” I said it again. It felt fucking amazing to feel it on my tongue.
I didn’t want to stop, but her two fingers on my lips shut me up. “Okay,” she said softly, a smile breaking over her glossy lips. “I heard you the first time.”
“I don’t give a damn if you heard me once.” Sinking my lips onto hers, I pulled her to me. My mouth demanded more of her—more than anyone should be able to give. Sammy rose to the challenge, her eyes shutting behind her rows of thick lashes. “I won’t ever stop saying it. I’m going to repeat it a million times, until my tongue dries out and my heart stops beating, and even then . . . I might never quit.”
The wetness in her eyes finally tipped over the edges. Sammy had always hidden away when she cried. This time, she watched me dead-on and didn’t try to stop it.
I kissed the corner of her cheekbone, wiping away the wetness there. Her nose brushed my ear, her tone the sensation of silk over bare skin. “I also love you for not driving us into a ditch and killing us in an empty field.”
Hunching over with a laugh, I held her tighter. We lingered for a long while. The fireflies returned, the two of us trying to count them as we cuddled on my motorcycle.
Eventually, she looked at her phone. “We should go, I don’t want Mom to fall asleep. Explaining to her that we need to pack up and leave is going to be messy as is.”
The reminder that I’d offered to sweep them both away and off into the sunset should have been sobering. I was too busy relishing the blockade being gone from my heart. I’d never told a woman I loved her. I’d never felt like I’d loved someone before. Sammy had opened me up without my say, she’d gotten inside of me before I’d realized.
But maybe I couldn’t have stopped her even if I’d seen this coming.
Maybe I wouldn’t have tried to.
Pulling into the parking lot, I turned the engine off. Sliding down, I helped Sammy to the ground. My hands glided down her arms, one of them finally linking with hers. She tightened up in surprise, not trying to get away from my touch.
Hand in hand, we climbed the stairs.
I got to watch Sammy’s joy as it became her state of mind.
And when she opened the unit, finding only darkness and not her mother . . .
I got to watch it melt away.
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR -
KAIN
“It happened. It finally happened.” She was pacing, holding her head and talking to herself rapidly.
“Sammy, calm down.”
Spinning on me, she let the last bit of her composure fall to pieces. “He took her! Oh fuck, oh no—what if he hurt her? What if he—”
Grabbing her roughly, I forced her around to face me. “Stop it!” I growled. The light came back into her eyes—she was listening. “Call the hospital first. Maybe she was taken there.”
Her shaking chin made it obvious that possibility wasn’t much better. I looked on as she dialed, her voice frantic as she spoke to someone on the line. Sammy’s fist went white on the phone—when her arm dropped, my heart went with it.
Hanging up, she challenged me with her wild glare. “She’s not there. I’m telling you, this Brick guy took her. It has to be that, she’d never leave without telling me.”
With purpose, I started toward the door. “I believe you. I know where Brick is, we can leave right now.”
“If he’s done anything to her . . . I’ll kill him.” She said it so strongly that I didn’t doubt it. Sammy wasn’t violent, but when faced with losing the last person in her family, she was willing to take off her gloves.
I’d have done the same.
“Come on.” Forcing the heavy helmet back into her hands, I lifted her onto the bike. Her focus was solid, she followed my lead. Sammy became a faceless eight ball behind the helmet.
Is this the right thing to do? I asked myself. Our plan had gone from escape to rescue. That is, if Jean could even be rescued—No. Don’t. I tightened my jaw, my molars grinding. We can save her. Everything will be fine.
Robbed of her expressive eyes, I didn’t linger in asking her thoughts. Sammy was as good as a one-direction robot. She cared about nothing but finding her mother. And I felt . . . no, I knew . . . that if it was a bleak outcome, she was ready to destroy the people who were responsible.
My front lights guided us down the road, rubber squealing. Sammy melded against my back, leaning into me for strength. Twisting the handlebars, I pushed my motorcycle to the limit. We cut corners, flying back the way we’d come.
The highway exit I wanted was just beyond the firefly field. It was late, and the road was usually barren anyway, so I didn’t bother slowing down. As we cut over the bend of asphalt, revealing the straight shot in the distance, I spotted headlights.
My eyes cast slightly down; it allowed me to still see and not be blinded. Just beyond here, we’ll get to the highway, then the Hill, and then I’ll kick Barnie’s door down and strangle Brick Monroe for real.
No one would stop me from getting to him. Not this time.
I wasn’t afraid of guns.
I was afraid of seeing Sammy’s heart torn to shreds.
Up ahead, the car drew near. In a sudden flash of high beams, it swung into our lane. It was an unexpected obstacle—and I was going too damn fast.
It rammed toward us on that stretch of quiet road.
The same place where so recently Sammy had told me she loved me.
Wrenching my bike to one side, I threw us into the grass. We skidded—we bounced. Every bone in my body took a turn punching into my skull, and when it was all said and done, I was lying face-up so I could see the stars.
Groaning, I rolled onto my elbow. Move, go! This was all wrong, the car had come at us on purpose. I knew what an ambush was, I wasn’t a fucking idiot.
But I was hurt.
Grimacing, I clutched my ribs and stumbled toward Sammy. We’d both had on our helmets, the field cushioning us miraculously. Kneeling beside her, I helped her sit up; she yanked the helmet free, spitting into the dirt.
Breathing rapidly so her chest rose and fell, she looked up at me. Then she stared over my shoulder. “Don’t!” she shouted.
Spinning, I looked into the barrel of a handgun. Brick spoke with a sneer I could taste. “Hey, asshole, remember me?”
My eyes darted up to his twisting features. I have to get to my gun. It was in my holster under my jacket, but he was too close for me to chance it.
The muzzle jammed into my temple; I grunted. “I asked a question,” Brick said.