38

38

KADE

We make it to the hotel in under an hour, and as Barry said, the place is clear, bar all of my guards standing outside and inside, patrolling the stairways and the surrounding area.

I slip in the back, Stacey in hand. The place is like a ghost town.

As soon as we get to the room, I can breathe.

Stacey pulls the helmet off and drops it on the sofa, hands on her hips. “Talk. Now.”

“No.” I point to her suitcase and the clothes surrounding it. “Pack.”

One of the guards gave me a charger, so I plug my phone in and wait impatiently for the screen to turn on. I look up when I don’t hear movement. She’s still standing in the middle of the room, glaring at me.

I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Move. Pack your things. We don’t have time for you to fuck around.”

As soon as a bunch of notifications pop up from Base, drunk and being his annoying fucking self, I drop to the edge of the bed, elbows to my knees. Stacey cuddles herself in my peripheral, lowering to the couch. “Kade. Please. I need you to tell me what’s going on here.”

She deserves to know. But I also don’t want her to know. Will she look at me differently if I tell her everything? Will she understand why she needs to stay away from me?

I came back home because Bernadette loosened her leash on me after putting me through a hard month of brutality, and the only reason I didn’t snap her neck then and there was because she threatened to have my dad killed and make it look like a suicide. All this shit with my ex just… happened.

The connection between us is too strong, and I didn’t even want to fight the pull.

I welcomed it. Since the moment I picked her up from that house, I’ve felt less dead inside. A speck of light in my darkness with her name on it.

Stacey broke my teenage heart, but there are more problems in my life than dwelling on the past. I’m not going to marry her and have children; I don’t get to have a happy ending. There was no harm in us having fun. Messing around. I made it clear when she was between my legs on the plane that it meant nothing, but I think I was telling myself more than her.

I’d just hurt her or get her killed.

I’ve taken so many lives that I’m numb to death. What does that say about me? I don’t deserve anything good in my life.

She can do way better.

“Kade.”

My name is a caring whisper, breaking me away from my erratic thoughts. She kneels in front of me, gently taking my wrists to halt me from texting a reply to Base.

“Who was he? And why are you trying to rush me out of the country?”

Tingles attack me, and I stare at her fingers on my skin, but she quickly pulls them away like I’ve burned her.

I close my eyes, wiping my palms down my face before looking at her. “I work for him and his wife.”

Correction: I work for Bernadette Sawyer. Archie is just a filthy disease that floats around in her rotten shadow.

She frowns, a deep line forming between her brows. Whether she’s mad, confused, happy, aroused or sad, Stacey is the definition of beautiful.

“They’re the ones who get your contracts?” she asks.

“Among other things, yes,” I reply, nodding once.

Her eyes are mesmerising as she takes me in; as she studies my anxious expression. If I bring her closer to me, I’ll see each shade, the little clusters of gold circling her pupils.

I remember when we found out we were going to have a kid, I wanted them to have her eyes. I wanted them to have everything that made Stacey who she was.

Smart.

Brave.

Confident.

Beautiful.

I wipe a tear from my face as I hold my girlfriend in my arms. “We can try again, okay? We were supposed to be parents. We were supposed to have a family. I love you, Freckles. I love you so much.”

Stacey weeps into my chest, her body shaking through each sob as she shakes her head. “I can’t. I can’t go through that again, Kade.”

I want to take in everything about her while I can. Because I’m certain this might be the last time I see her.

Having her so close to me is cruel, even for a man like me.

“Why are they coming after me?”

Fuck. How do I even explain this? Oh, Bernadette tricked my heartbroken teenage self into her house, groomed me until she got me into bed and has been blackmailing me ever since?

How about adding they got me addicted to drugs?

Or Archie having his way with me while I was unconscious because I was three hours late on finishing a job?

I wanted to fucking die for weeks after waking up in my own blood and piss. No one, let alone a helpless and scared nineteen-year-old kid, should go through that.

I’ve been planning his death for a while now. When I get out of these shackles, I’ll make it fucking hurt.

A hand presses to my cheek, pulling me back to the now. “Where did you just go?”

Where I always go. The void in my head.

I gulp. Stacey takes my other hand, which has been rubbing the side of my leg repeatedly. “I’m… I’m not supposed to have any relationships outside of work.”

Stacey tilts her head, releasing my cheek to take my other fidgeting hand. “Why?”

A rush of humiliation courses through me. “Because I belong to them. If I don’t do what they say, people around me pay the price.”

“What?” Her eyes go wide. “Go to the police!”

I force myself to laugh. “They own them too.”

Technically, they own Scotland and over half of the underworld.

Sighing, I stare at her, take in how concerned she is for me. I pull my hands from hers and cup her cheeks, stroking my thumbs under her watering eyes. “Don’t worry about me, Freckles. I told you – this is my life now. I’m not dragging you into it as well.”

“You need to tell someone,” she says, holding my hands to her face. “Please.”

“And watch my family disappear, only for their bodies to show up months later?” I let go of her face. “No.”

“I… I told your dad.”

My eyes go wide. “What?”

“I went to visit him; I was worried about you and needed help.”

I tamp down my anger and close my eyes, fisting my hands. “You shouldn’t have done that, Stacey. If they find out, or he tries to do something, it’ll make it all worse. Don’t talk to him again, okay? Don’t talk to anyone about me. You’ll make it worse and my job harder.”

Her bottom lip shakes. “But…” She trails off. “How do I help you?”

“By leaving.”

Stacey goes ramrod straight at my bluntness. “What happens when I leave?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. As long as you’re safe.”

She’s quiet for a moment but then catches me off guard by climbing into my lap and burying her head into my shoulder.

For a brief moment, I have no idea what to do. She’s bracketing herself around me, hugging me, as my palms press into the mattress to keep me steady. I swallow, but when I feel wetness on my neck from her tears, I wrap one of my arms around the small of her back, fisting her hair.

I’m freefalling into a sea of tranquillity in her arms. My head is silent. My bones don’t shake, and I fill my lungs with her scent, wishing I could stay here forever.

I close my eyes, holding her to me. Her body cuddles into mine, one hand twisting into my hair and the other gripping my top at the back. Her hot breath is on my neck as she quietly weeps.

I massage my fingers into her hair, trying to keep my emotions in check. “Please don’t cry.”

“You weren’t supposed to have this life.” She’s shaking in my arms. “We should have moved away when we planned to. When I found out I was pregnant, we should have left and never turned back.”

There’s a tug against my heart. “I know.” I rub her back in small circles. No one has hugged me like this in so long. She was the only person I ever let get close to me, and I need to savour this while I can.

I lean back, remove my hand from her hair and tip her chin, so she looks at me.

“What we’ve been doing is risky. We can’t…” I blow out a breath, hating my words. “This.” Fuck. “We can’t.”

Silent, her eyes are lined with silver as another tear drops down her cheek.She doesn’t stop me as I kiss her forehead.

“Please pack your things.”

When she climbs off me, I check my phone, and I pale.

Bernadette: Five missed calls.

One voicemail.

Bernadette: Sebastian Ivanovich Prince. Twenty-three. Dark hair. Brown eyes. Six foot one. Father is a successful Russian CEO. Mother is a Scottish accountant. Bisexual. Drives a red Aston Martin. Has a scar on the back of his head from being hit with a glass bottle when he was seventeen. Shall I continue or do you understand?

Fucking shit. That means one thing.

Base officially has a target on him.

Keeping this side of my life a secret from my best friends has been hard going. So many times I’ve lied to get them off my back, but I think I need to tell them if Bernadette is going to start targeting them too. Base has a powerful family in Russia who could protect him. If Bernadette kills him, she’ll have a fucking war heading her way.

Relief fills me as Barry walks in – alive, watching me pace while Stacey zips her suitcase. “We need to leave now.”

I look at Stacey, at how shaken and emotional she is. It’s all my fault.

“Get her a vest,” I order, checking my gun is loaded, then shoving it into my waistband and gathering more weapons.

Stacey stares at the armoured vest in her hands, her brows knitting together.

I sigh. “Come here.”

She stands frozen as I take it from her hands and unfasten the straps to pull it over her head. Unblinking, she stares at my chest as I tighten it around her body.

“Breathe,” I say, and she blinks, looking up at me.

“I’m scared.”

I stare at her: the freckles dusting her skin – which is turning paler by the second – the still windswept hair, the forest-green eyes I’ve pictured an unhealthy number of times. “You’ll be fine.”

She doesn’t shy away when I grab a rifle from Barry and leave the hotel room.

Slowly, we walk down the corridor, Stacey in the middle. We’re joined by more of my men, and we circle her, shielding her, taking each step carefully in case Archie decides to ambush us.

When we reach the bottom of the stairway, one of the guards opens the back entrance, and we slip out.

The blast of a gun vibrates in my ears as one of my guys takes a bullet to the head. Stacey screams as I cradle myself around her and rush us towards the car while bullets fly from each side. I shove her inside the car, slam the door shut then open fire with rapid bursts until my rifle runs out of bullets.

I throw it down, grabbing my pistol from my waistband and shielding myself with the passenger-side door so I can start shooting again.

“You need to leave, sir,” one of my guards says. “We can hold them back.”

I swear to myself, because I never leave my guys behind, but I need to get Stacey out.

Barry rushes into the front, and we slide down the windows and shoot as he reverses out of the lot, swinging us into the road and accelerating.

Stacey stares at me, wide-eyed, breathless. “This is your life?”

I shrug.

She wipes a tear. “What happens now?”

I stop her from taking the vest off. “You go home. I’ll have you watched for a bit to make sure they don’t track you. You go on and live your life the way you have been.”

Maybe I’m being stupid, but I have to believe it’s possible, that she’ll make it out of this shit okay.

Stacey doesn’t say anything; eventually, she yawns and rests her head on my lap, and it stills me as she gets comfortable while Barry drives us to the hangar that’s over two hours away.

When she falls asleep, I lace our fingers, my other hand playing with her hair. “You should have stayed out of my life,” I whisper. “But you’ve always been there. Always.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

I glance up, my eyes clashing with my assistant’s. “What?”

“The more time you spend with her, the more danger she’ll be in.”

“I know that, Barry. Why the fuck do you think I’m rushing her out the country?”

“Sorry, sir, but she’s innocent and you’re…”

“I know,” I reply. “I fucking know.”

The drive takes forever and no time at all. I spend every moment of it staring down at her.

When we arrive at the hangar, Barry scans his badge to open the gates. The jet comes into view as we veer around the corner of an abandoned building.

“Wake up, Freckles,” I say softly, stroking her hair. She stirs, then blinks her eyes open. The corner of my mouth tugs absently, and I flatten my lips. “We’re here.”

The car stops as she rubs her eyes, trying to wake herself up. She looks out the window at the jet, my team waiting to both help her escape and fight the fight that will inevitably come here.

“Wait. What happens when I leave? Where do you go?”

The pilot appears as the stairs lower, his messy grey hair a sure sign we’ve dragged him out of bed.

I stare at Stacey. “I told you not to worry about me.”

“Well I’m going to!”

Someone’s radio beeps, announcing that four SUVs are trying to enter the area.

I briefly close my eyes; I hate that my team is dying. “You need to leave. Now.”

Barry takes her things, standing beside her. “Miss, if you’d board the jet please.”

Another radio goes off. A casualty. Two. Three.

Bernadette’s army is coming.

When Stacey takes a step back, ready to leave, I snatch her wrist and pull her to me, crashing my mouth down on hers with my hands on each side of her face. It’s not deep or passionate but enough that I won’t regret watching her walk away without kissing her.

And fuck me, feeling her lips on mine is a dream, especially when she kisses me back and the world ceases to exist.

I’m no longer standing in the airfield. I’m playing dares in a tent with the girl I’ve fancied since I was fifteen. Her lips are on mine, and I’m no longer in darkness, swallowed by the shadows of my wrongdoings.

The butterflies are still there. The nerves and the shake of my hands.

She told me not to kiss her, but she isn’t pushing me away either.

I taste her tears as she whimpers against my lips. “Come with me.”

I release her and step back, putting distance between us, and shake my head. “I can’t.”

Another gunshot, and I turn to Barry. “Get everyone on. You included.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“Because they’ll kill you all, and I’m not letting that happen. Get on the fucking jet – that’s an order.”

He nods, but I see his hesitation over leaving me.

“Miss Rhodes,” he says to Stacey, trying to usher her on.

She shakes her head. “Please, Kade.”

“Go,” I tell Stacey. “Don’t reach out to me. They’ll have my phone.”

She looks broken as she nods in agreement, taking a few steps towards the stairs, then stopping and running back to me.

Time stands still as our mouths collide in a deep, desperate kiss as she throws herself into my arms. I pull her to me as her lips move, part, and we open to each other, letting our tongues finally taste. I lift her off her feet and walk towards the steps. Her legs wrap around me, and I revel in the softness of her mouth.

It’s like I’m visiting heaven while living in hell. But I want to steal her and bring her to my chaos, set fucking fire to her world and keep her in mine.

Not even the devil could take this moment from me.

This is what I wanted to do earlier. I wanted to taste her moans and suck on her tongue, to swallow her gasps as I pushed into her.

Instead, I’m tasting her tears, swallowing her inconsolable sobs as she begs me to come on the plane with her.

“I’ll tell you everything,” she says. “I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

I’ve no idea what she’s talking about. Everything?

“We can make it work,” she adds. “We can help each other.”

“Sir, we need to leave right now.”

My nose nudges hers. “It’s over. It’s been over for two years. If we keep doing this, you’ll be killed.”

She sobs and shakes her head. “No.”

I press my mouth to hers again as I lower her to her feet. “I can’t be selfish.”

Stacey takes a step back, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, tears falling down her face, and I don’t want to let go of her other hand. A lump is in my throat, my chest is tight, and I want to keep kissing her. I want to go with her.

But then our fingers separate, and she turns away.

It’s over as soon as it starts – I let go of her forever, and she’s vanishing into the jet, not daring to give me one last look. Everything else is done. We’re done. And that’s how it needs to be. I’ll stay away from her. I’ll do anything to make sure Bernadette never finds her.

Barry stands at the top of the metal stairs, looking behind me, and I know I’m screwed. “Keep her safe,” I say. “Don’t worry about me.”

The door of the jet closes, and I blow out a breath and shove my hand into my hair. I can hear all the cars now. Speeding. I guess the team I had on the gates is dead. Everyone who was on shift and didn’t make it to the jet is dead. So many innocent lives lost, all because they were loyal to me.

At least Stacey is safe.

I light a joint and watch the jet back into the runway, and relief fills me as it takes to the sky, carrying Stacey away from trouble. I blow out toxic smoke as a gun is pressed to the back of my head.

Everything goes dark as pain smacks into my skull.