Obsession (The Plus One Chronicles) (22 page)

“Drake!” She lifted her foot, needing to get to him. Help him.

“I’ll play with you.”

Foster’s stare collided with hers, igniting an animalistic panic that propelled her into flight. Pivoting, she got two steps before her leg buckled.
No. Oh God!
Scrambling, she tried to regain her footing. An arm hooked around her neck and jerked her back. Gagging, she clawed frantically at his hold.

The knife waved in front of her face. Her lungs seized. Harsh buzzing exploded in her head. Spots popped in her vision. Where was Drake? Alive and scared? Forced to watch what Foster would do to her?

Anger surged, shoving back her panic.
Fight. Live.
She was Drake’s only chance. Kat snapped her arm out, knocking away Foster’s knife hand.

Surprise loosened the chokehold on her.

Her training kicked in. Kat turned to the side, bringing her inside arm up between them and slamming it into Foster’s shoulder and head. Rage and fear drove her as she clawed down his face.

Freed, she spun to escape.

“Fucking cunt!”

“Go!” Drake heaved himself to the coffee table, trying to push up to his feet. Blood stained his shirt and pajama bottoms, but his eyes held a glint of calm determination. “Out the deck.”

In the space of a single second, she eyed the open doors, then the man trying to stand. One heartbeat to choose. She might escape, leaving Drake to die for her.

No. She couldn’t do it.

Kat stopped, whipped around in front of Drake and dropped into her fighting stance.

Blood dripped down Foster’s face from four scratches. Arms spread, one hand gripping the knife, he started toward her with brutal murder in his eyes.

Another step brought him closer.

“You’ll pay for—”

His words cut off at the sound of a door opening. Kat jerked her gaze to the door leading to the garage.
What? How?

Sloane took two long strides in and stilled. His relaxed expression blanked. Eyes iced. A ripple of ferocious energy crackled around him.

Between one blink and the next, Sloane launched himself. His hand hit the granite countertop, and he flew over it.

Foster spun with his knife up.

Bile shot up Kat’s throat. Foster would cut Sloane. She had to help, had to do something.

“No. Get out.”

Drake’s thin, trembling voice dropped her to her knees beside him. Pain shot up her leg, cramping her bladder. She didn’t care. Drake had collapsed back to the floor. His face was gray and his lips white. Grunts, curses and thuds raged on her right.
Concentrate on Drake.
Grabbing her shirt from the floor, she pressed it to the wound in Drake’s thigh.

Ethan ran in the opened sliders. She didn’t know how or why he and Sloane had come back, she was just grateful they had. She begged Ethan, “Help Sloane.”

“He doesn’t need it.” Ethan yanked off his button-down shirt and helped her into it. “Police are on their way.”

Kat craned her head around.

Sloane blocked Foster slashing the knife at his chest, but the blade sliced through his sleeve and into his forearm. He didn’t notice. Sloane jumped back from a blow aimed at his knee, then snapped a kick to Foster’s face.

The man flew back, landing a couple feet from Kat. He tried to roll, but Sloane leaped on him, driving hammer punches and stiff elbow strikes to Foster’s face.

Warm blood hit her skin. Kat looked down, seeing red splatters bloom on the snowy-white shirt Ethan put on her. The sounds of splitting flesh and crunching bone echoed. She didn’t want to look, but somehow she did. Her stomach rolled in horror. Foster’s face was dissolving into pulp.

“Stop him.” Drake’s hand dug into her arm. “Kat.”

Drake’s plea snapped her from her shock. But how did she reach him? “Sloane?”

Nothing. He didn’t hear her and kept pounding with violent rage. Murder rode his face, his muscles bursting beneath the shirt. Blood poured from his sliced arm.

Foster wasn’t moving.

Shaking, nausea roiling, Kat reached out and tapped three times on Sloane’s back.

His head snapped around, eyes locked onto her, giving her a close-up view of killing fury.

He wouldn’t hurt her. “Sloane, he’s down.” Maybe dead. She didn’t know, didn’t care. She only cared about Sloane. She needed a towel for Sloane’s arm. Drake needed help. “We need you.”

* * *

Sloane glanced down at the bleeding and broken man beneath him. The motherfucker wheezed, so he was alive, but he wasn’t moving anytime soon. He didn’t matter anymore.

Only Kat and Drake mattered. Sloane shoved over to them. Kat had Drake’s head in her lap, leaning over him at an awkward angle and trying to stop the bleeding on his thigh. The cut on Drake’s throat was shallow and already congealing. Quickly, he ripped the leg of Drake’s pajama bottoms, revealing the small, ragged hole in the man’s thigh. Sloane took the cloth from Kat’s hand and pressed it firmly against the wound.

Ethan settled a blanket around Kat and handed her the oxygen tube for Drake. Kneeling next to Sloane, the kid wrapped a towel around Sloane’s arm. “Hold this, and I’ll take over with Drake.”

Sloane pressed the towel on the knife wound.

Drake’s fingers scratched Sloane’s leg. “Kat wouldn’t leave me. Tried to make her.”

Forgetting his wound, Sloane grabbed Drake’s hand and stared down into his mentor’s eyes. Tenderness overwhelmed him. “Kat loves you. She doesn’t leave her friends.” Or her lover.
Him.
Keeping Drake’s hand in his, he scooted to Kat, putting his arm around her, careful of Drake’s head in her lap. Drake had been willing to die to protect her, and Kat had been determined to fight for Drake.

She lifted her eyes to his. “How did you know to come back?”

He shook his head, still unable to believe it. “I didn’t know. I came back for you. I never asked you if you wanted to go tonight…I came back to ask you. And if you didn’t want to go, then I was going to stay here with you. But I had no idea until I walked in that Foster was here. Zack’s car was in the driveway. Everything looked normal.”

Ethan added, “I was coming in behind Sloane and saw what was happening. I ran around the back while calling nine-one-one and came in this way to get you two out.”

Sloane regarded the man he had grown to care about as he would a younger brother. “That’s why I trust you with the life of the woman I love. You have your priorities front and center.”

“I’m just glad we came back.”

God if they hadn’t…

But they had. It’d been close, but he had come back. Sloane pulled Kat tighter to him. “You come first, Kitten. Every damn time.”

As sirens blared up the street, Sloane held his family.

Chapter Seventeen

“Sloane.”

He jerked awake in the recliner in Drake’s room and shot to his feet. Kat was asleep on the bed next to the older man. They’d been up most of the night with him. Today had seen a stream of people, including Kat’s parents, her brother and his fiancée, and Kellen and Diego, who were worried about her. Then John, Sherry and a few kids had come to say goodbye to Drake.

For twenty-four hours, he’d been slipping away, mostly sleeping if not unconscious. An hour or two ago, John had sent everyone away. He and Sherry had had their private moment with Drake then left. Ethan had his moment too and went to the guesthouse, giving Sloane and Kat these last hours with Drake.

But now, Drake had woken, and Sloane looked down into his surprisingly clear blue eyes. “I thought you’d sleep longer.”

Kat woke, confused. “What is it?”

Drake took her hand but kept his eyes on Sloane as he said, “I’d like to see the ocean.”

Kat glanced at the clock. “It’s nearly sundown. You’ll get cold.”

A tiny smile flickered. “Won’t matter.”

Sloane closed his eyes at the weight of those words. Drake was leaving. Unbearable pain sliced at his chest.

Kat’s hand touched his. “Can we move him?”

Opening his eyes, he settled into her gaze. Not long ago she’d run to his arms in terror, letting him be her strength for a little while. Now she was his. “I’ll carry him.”

“Your arm.” She glanced at the bandage over the stitches.

Nothing mattered but giving Drake his last moments. He wanted to see the ocean, Sloane would make it happen. “It’s okay. Get a blanket.”

Kat slipped off the bed.

Sloane leaned over and took the oxygen tube from Drake’s face. Sliding his arms beneath him, he lifted the man and carried him out to the deck, down the steps and across the sand to the edge of the ocean.

He sat down and braced Drake’s back against his chest. Drake had taken an angry, grieving boy and shaped him into a man. Sloane struggled to tell him what that meant to him. “Thank you, Drake. You’ve been a father to me. You’re the man I hope to be.”

Drake laid his hand on Sloane’s arm. “You’re the son I chose.”

The pain in Sloane’s chest intensified, and his eyes burned as Kat approached them, careful of her leg in the sand. She gently tucked the blanket around Drake, then hesitated.

Seeing her uncertainty, Sloane pulled her to them, settling her against Drake’s side and spreading the blanket over all of them. “Stay with us.” He couldn’t do this without her. She belonged with him, in this moment, and always.

Kat cradled Drake’s hand in hers. “I’ll never forget you.” Her voice cracked and broke. “You’re my friend.”

Sloane’s throat ached. The pain swamping them was as vast and deep as the ocean.

Drake turned his head slowly. “My laptop.”

Kat tilted her head closer to hear his rough whisper. “What about it?”

Drake swallowed, struggling to get the words out. “Didn’t forget you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her face. “A letter for me?”

Drake dipped his chin in a nod.

Sloane’s heart swelled with too much pain and love for both of them. Drake, the man who saved a tormented, angry boy, and Kat who taught the man how to love.

Drake rested against Sloane’s chest while Kat held the older man’s hand. The waves rose and fell as the sun dipped into the ocean, draping a soft blanket of darkness over them.

Drake slipped away quietly, just letting go.

Sloane clamped his arm around him, instinctively trying to keep the only father he’d ever known.

Kat wiped her face on the blanket, then rose to her knees and kissed Drake’s cheek. “Feel the music, Drake. You’re free now.”

When she shifted her gaze to Sloane, her face was ravished from tears and loss, and yet there was such love there too, he completely lost control.

Drake was gone.

The awful reality grabbed him by the neck, ripping through his heart. He pulled Kat to him, holding on to her as the emotional storm raged through him.

Finally, Kat said, “I’ll make the call.”

They had to call Drake’s doctor. But he couldn’t do it, not yet. “I’m not ready to let him go yet.” Drake’s weight slumped against Sloane was one he bore willingly. The man had trusted Sloane to hold him as he died. It choked him up all over again. He needed another minute.

Kat settled her hand on his face, pulling his gaze to hers. “Take all the time you need. You’re the son of his heart forever.”

Her eyes shimmered with understanding, and that eased him. No one would take Drake from him. They would wait until he was ready to let go. Kat pressed her lips to Sloane’s temple, then used his shoulder to get up and headed into the house.

He didn’t know how long he sat there as grief carved deep into his soul. The waves kept their steady churning rhythm, the moon rose and Sloane realized he was ready to let go. Drake was free of pain and at peace, but his legacy of mentoring throwaway boys would live on.

Sloane would make sure of it.

* * *

Ten days later.

Kat finished swimming laps in the heated pool at Sloane’s Montecito, California house. The lush backyard was her favorite place. He’d been right to bring them here to give them a chance to rest and recover. Kellen’s parents were taking care of her bakery, and for the first time since she’d bought Sugar Dancer, she truly had a break from work.