Aftershocks (41 page)

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Authors: Natalie J. Damschroder

BOOK: Aftershocks
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It
was
Rhomney standing down the ridge. He didn’t have the knife he’d held to Kell’s throat, but that wasn’t good news. He’d replaced it with a mechanical crossbow, the kind that fired small but still deadly darts. Where the hell did he get that? He was aiming it down the hill, toward a boulder that covered his target—Zoe.

There was no way Kell was going to be able to come up on Zoe’s position without Rhomney seeing him. Not without going way out into the woods at the bottom of the hill. And even then, his movement would draw attention. In this area, the tree trunks were narrow and sparse, and even the shorter trees and underbrush were low.

“Hey, Pat!” Grant called, and Kell’s time was up. When Rhomney swung around to face Grant, Kell shoved himself down the hill, sliding as fast as he dared. Grant yelled nonsense about the FBI and the rest of his freelance team being on their way, covering the rustle and clatter of Kell’s descent. He almost cheered when he reached the bottom and barely stopped himself from sliding into a gully. A broken ankle would have been a disaster. But the dark groove in the earth, probably a seasonal wash now mostly dry, went in exactly the direction he needed to go.

In seconds he was in the gully. Heart pounding, he crab-walked as fast as he could along the bottom, trying to keep his head low and estimate how far he’d come. He could still hear Grant shouting. Fuck, what if Zoe decided to go up the hill to help him? He scuddled faster, wondering if he imagined a
ping-swish-thunk
that was
the crossbow.
Let him be aiming at Neely
.

He didn’t want to overshoot Zoe’s position. He stopped, his back against the gully wall closest to the hill, and listened. He could make out Rhomney’s voice, almost directly above him but not facing this way. Probably. Grant still had his attention. Kell risked rising a tiny bit, tilting his head back to make only his eyes and the tip of his nose clear the edge. He couldn’t breathe at that angle, and spots danced in his vision for a second. But when they cleared, he saw Zoe hunkered behind a boulder, holding Rhomney’s wicked knife. Thank God. Now if he could just get her down here without catching Rhomney’s attention.


Ssst.
” She didn’t move. His right calf cramped, and when he shifted it, his head bobbed higher. The movement drew Zoe’s attention. Her eyes widened when she saw him, gratitude and relief flooding her expression. She made an abrupt move, halted immediately, but it was enough. Kell dropped flat on his back just as a crossbow arrow zipped past him and buried itself in the opposite bank.

“She’s not for you!” Rhomney shouted. He was so furious Kell could hear spittle, spraying from his lips and spattering the dry leaves. For a moment he lay paralyzed, listening. “She’s always been mine, Kellen Stone! Even when you loved her, lavished her with your riches, developed a life with her, she didn’t tell you about
me!
I’ve left an imprint on her psyche and her soul that you can’t even
hope
to
match!”

The words were meant to burrow deep into Kell’s heart and ruin the rest of his life. They only pissed him off. He raised his head just a bit and spotted a big rock embedded in the dirt by his right foot. He kicked at it.

“You’ve got it backwards, Rhomney!” The rock shifted, but barely. He kept kicking. “I’ve given her the peace she needed to leave you behind! She never told me about you because you don’t
matter
!” He slammed the heel of his boot against the rock. It pulled almost completely out of the moist dirt, showering the leaves around it with little clumps. He dragged it up next to his hand and hefted it. Yeah, that would work. Or not. Rising up a little, he heaved the rock to his left and surged upright. The rock sailed further than he’d hoped, and
yes!
Rhomney tracked it. Even better, Zoe dashed across the twenty feet between them and in seconds was in the gully, in Kell’s arms.

“Oh, God, Zoe. Jesus Christ.” He clutched her to him, rolling to bury her under his body in case Rhomney fired again. But no arrows struck. “God, I was scared. Are you okay?”

She nodded and squirmed. “We’ve got to get out of here, Kell. And Grant—”

“I know. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and started them crawling back the way he’d come. She twisted her hand out of his, sending a different kind of fear panging through him, until he realized she still clutched the knife in her other hand.

“Leave it,” he told her.

“No.” She looked grim but picked up her pace.

Kell led her back to the point where he’d slid into the gully. “A little further,” he told Zoe. He glanced upward, but could see and hear nothing over the noise of their movement. After a couple dozen more feet, they crouched in the gully and listened. Silence.

“Grant.” Zoe’s whisper cracked, and Kell winced.

“He’ll be okay.” Though Kell had his doubts about the merc’s ability to come back from two should-be-fatal shots in a day. They hadn’t seen Rhomney shoot him with the crossbow, but why wouldn’t he? “Let’s just concentrate on getting up that hill. Then we’ll help him—”

She was gone before he finished his sentence.

“Dammit!” He scrambled up the hill after her as she scrambled behind the row of underbrush.

Grant was still standing.

Rhomney was no longer in sight.

The sun had risen high enough so the breeze cast dancing shadows, several of which Kell thought were attacking Zoe before he realized what they were.

He barreled after her. This chasing crap was getting old.

“Zoe, stop!” he risked calling, but she ignored him. Grant turned, and the sun glistened on his sleeve where the blood from his shoulder wound had saturated it. Kell knew once Zoe saw that, there’d be no stopping her.

What happened next had an inevitability that sank down to Kell’s heels.

His feet slid in wet, dead leaves as he tried to make it up the hill. Zoe was alone when she reached the top. She raced along for only a few steps, toward Grant, and skidded to a stop when Rhomney loomed up in front of her, out of nowhere Kell could see. She fell and scooted backwards on her butt. The knife she’d been holding tumbled down the hill, straight to Kell’s hand. He scooped it up and ran, hearing the echo of Grant’s shout in his ears, seeing the glint of sunlight on the mini-crossbow in Rhomney’s hand, the horrible finality in his grin as he aimed it at Zoe’s heart.

Kell was too far away. Grant was too far away. Zoe was helpless. Rhomney was going to kill her. There was only one thing Kell could do. He threw the knife, as hard as he could.

And missed.

He choked but kept his legs pumping, and thank God, because even though the knife didn’t hit anything, it startled Rhomney enough to raise the crossbow. Kell launched himself at the man, half aware of Zoe doing the same thing. He hit him high, she hit him low, and the three of them tumbled down the far side of the slope.

Leaves and sticks battered Kell’s face as they all hit the ground, bounced into the air, and hit again. He struggled to hang on to Pat and took a flailing hand in the chin. Three-toned grunts filled the air. His knee dug into something soft. Hopefully Rhomney’s gut and not Zoe’s.

They came to rest in a tangle at the base of a tree more than halfway down the hill. Before Kell could orient himself and know which body was whose, black boots pounded after them and a long arm dragged Rhomney upright before Grant plowed a fist into his jaw, knocking him out and about six feet across the forest floor.

“Zoe.” Kell twisted and helped her sit up. Blood glistened at the corner of her mouth, and he cursed. “Where else are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Is he—?” She twisted until she saw Rhomney, and relaxed. “Thank you.” Her hands tightened on Kell’s forearms, fingers curling into his sleeves so he couldn’t have moved away if he tried. Something inside him loosened at the same time.

“Where the hell is everyone else?” Zoe asked Grant.

On cue, the cavalry arrived.

* * *

After hours of conferring with his team, being debriefed by the FBI and threatened with charges for interfering in a federal investigation, and being forced to go to the hospital to get his shoulder patched up, Grant dragged himself to the hotel Henricksen referred him to. The agent had intervened to keep him from being charged—at least for now—and kept him apprised of Zoe and Kell’s status. They’d both been treated on site for their minor wounds and questioned by a battery of agents and cops.

He’d just gotten out of the shower when he heard the knock on his door. He threw on a pair of fatigue pants and even buttoned them, but didn’t bother with anything else when he went to let Zoe in.

Surprised the hell out of him to see Stone at the threshold instead.

“Hey.” He looked into the empty hall and then turned away, rubbing a hand towel over his hair and listening to Stone coming in, closing the door, and following him into the room, which was much smaller than the suites they’d had in Utah. “How’s Zoe?”

“Fine. Generally speaking.” Stone stopped at the corner that closed off the bathroom area, folding his arms and leaning one shoulder against the wall. He eyed Grant’s injured shoulder. “You?”

Grant shrugged despite the wave of pain that created. “Showering’s a bitch. No major damage.” Generally speaking. He went across the room and dropped into a chair by the window, ignoring the towel clenched in his good hand.

“I wanted to clear the air,” Stone said.

Grant made a “go ahead” motion. As far as he was concerned, their objective had been met. They didn’t need to act like partners anymore.

“Thank you.” Stone shook his head a little, as if in disbelief. “For everything. Zoe wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you, and probably neither would I.”

“Just doing my job,” Grant lied. “Where is she?” Stone shouldn’t have left her alone. Not yet. His hand gripping the towel turned white.

Kell shifted and ran his hand through his hair. “She’s still sleeping. Had a nightmare last night.”

Of course she did. They probably all did. “How bad?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not bad, I suppose, given what happened. She didn’t wake up from it.”

“That’s probably good.” Kell looked worried, so Grant added, “She’s strong. She got through worse as a kid. She’ll get through this.”

“I know. I just wish she didn’t have to.”

Grant inclined his head to acknowledge that and waited. Kell seemed lost in thought for a moment, but spoke directly. “Your world is a lot like what went down last night.”

Shit
. “Look, Stone, I know—“

“No. You don’t.” His jaw tensed. “She loves you.”

Curse the friggin’ joy that statement force-fed. “She—“

“Just shut up and let me talk.”

Grant clamped his mouth closed, not at all interested in hearing it, but hell, he’d endured worse. Maybe.

“She’s loved you since the beginning. Seeing you again has brought all that back, which is why she didn’t let me back in when I showed up. Why this turned into a battle over her.”

Grant knew how this conversation was going to end, and he just wanted to get there. He shoved to his feet. “She doesn’t want me.”

“The hell she doesn’t.” Stone’s laugh held no humor. “Or I wouldn’t have slept on the floor last night.”

Grant halted in his tracks. “She made you sleep on the floor?”

“No, I volunteered.”

He scowled. That wasn’t the same thing. “She doesn’t belong with me.”

“Do you love her?”

“Hell, yeah.” The words came out a growl, a threat, but Kell only nodded. He tilted his head to look at the floor, then back up toward the ceiling, and blew out a massive breath.

“She’ll choose me,” he said. “And I’m not sure she should.”

And with that honest, broken admission, everything fell into place for Grant. The fight was over, and a metric ton of tension he’d been holding since Stone showed up just…released.

“You said it yourself,” he told him. “Last night wasn’t an aberration for me. I run scenarios far worse than that on a weekly basis. She’s not going to want to live with that. She
shouldn’t
live with that.”

His heart cracked open and bled, but the wound wasn’t fatal. Not sure he could keep it off his face, he walked the few steps to the bedside stand and grabbed his water bottle, using the time to open it, drink, and twist the cap back on to hide his feelings. He’d been so fucking short-sighted. He fit with Zoe’s goals and dreams even less now than he had before. Nothing had changed. Yeah, okay, if he really wanted her, he’d retire from the world he worked in. But then what? Become a city guy, living a white-collar life and mingling with people who worked hard so they could be pampered? He’d hate it, and then Zoe wouldn’t be enough. She’d hate him for that, and he’d hate himself even more.

When he turned back to Stone, the man was slumped against the wall.

“Can you get past what she did? The lies and secrets, and contributing to your sister being a target?”

Kell shook his head. “After all this? I know she’d have died before putting Olivia in real danger. She thought she was making the right choice. Sure, we have to rebuilt trust between us. But I can convince her to share everything with me.” He shrugged. “She already has, really.”

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