Page 38 of The Fence Between Us

For the first time since she’d entered the room, Gayle’s perfectly serene expression faltered, and her eyes flashed with ire. She folded her hands together in front of her, the bright red fingernails standing out against the dark-blue dress.

“Skye Louise,” she chastised, “You’re a grown woman. It’s time you step up and take your place in the family. You have a job to do, just like the rest of us. Why, who knows, with your marriage to Dylan, you could be the mother of the future president.”

Gayle’s smile brightened, her eyes seeking Skye’s, searching for the anticipated excitement at the prospect of birthing the future president of the United States.

“We aren’t the damn Kennedys!” Skye yelled.

Gayle crossed the room quickly, her hand striking out before Skye could blink. The slap stung against her cheek, the sound echoing in her ears. Shocked, she stumbled back a step, her fingers coming up to cup her stinging cheek.

Her stepmother stepped back, adjusting her dress and composing herself before hissing, “Watch your language, young lady.”

Skye’s eyes whipped to Dylan imploring him for some semblance of sanity. He watched her, a vague disappointment tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I am not your puppet!” Skye bit out each word, accentuating the syllables.

Dylan’s displeasure turned into a full frown. His eyes going hard, “Skye.”

A warning. And a threat.

Skye pulled herself up to her full height, though she was several inches shorter than both Dylan and Gayle in her heels. “You cannot keep me here. You have no rights to my body or my time. And you’re both fucking crazy if you think I’ll stay here for another damned minute.”

Dylan strode toward her, and Skye resisted the urge to shrink back from him. His hands came up to grip her arms, pulling her tight against his body. She felt every awful inch of him against her. The muscles in his biceps, the bony angle of his hips, the hard press of his thighs against hers. She turned her head,refusing to meet his eyes, refusing to acknowledge his desire for her.

His fingers tightened cruelly, digging in with bruising force. With his breath hot against her ear, he whispered, “You forget your place, but that’s okay. I’ll remind you. It’s time to take your place at my side, Skye. If you don’t, I’d hate to see something happen to your little toy soldier.”

Her toy soldier?Skye’s eyes widened, fear freezing the blood in her veins as his words sank in.Rabble.

Near the door, Gayle cleared her throat delicately. “Well, dear, now that that’s settled, I’ll let the officiant know we’ll be ready for the wedding before the end of the day.” She clapped her hands excitedly. “There is so much to do!”

She whisked from the room, ticking off tasks she needed to finish on her manicured fingers. Dylan turned his head to watch her go. When Gayle’s heeled tapping disappeared down the hall, he locked his eyes on Skye, releasing one of her arms to run his fingers through her tangled hair, then down the line of her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. His fingers moved to her lips, and she barely contained the desire to lash out with her teeth and tear the digit from his hand.

Dylan grinned. “See, it won’t be so bad.”

She tried to turn her face from him, but his fingers caught her cheeks, pushing against her viciously. Skye clasped his wrists, tugging with all her strength to move him away, to make him to let go.

Gone was the gentle concern he’d shown moments before with an audience looking on. Now, his eyes gleamed with a dark light. His lips quirked in an infuriating smirk. “I win.”

She furrowed her brow and dug her fingernails into his wrists, leaving red small half-moons in his skin.

“I told you, Skye.” A dark promise rang in his voice. “I play the long game.”

Then he too was gone, the door snicking shut followed by the death knell of the lock sounding behind him.

Chapter 23

Rabble

Dash and Declan arrived less than fifteen minutes after Rabble called. They’d activated the emergency plan for Elyza, Bekah, and Kellyn, who were holed up at The Wild Bride. The locked doors would remain that way under threat of brotherly punishment until either Declan or Dash contacted their sister. Elyza was no fool. Knowing the world her brothers lived in, she was prepared to keep her friends and herself from any harm that might come knocking.

Rabble paced in Skye’s living room, trying to analyze what he could while simultaneously losing his shit. The brothers came through the door like avenging angels, focused and determined. Rabble watched them work, reminded again why he trusted these men absolutely. After Rable told them he found the door open, they too took in the discarded and cracked cell phone, moving from one room to another, then to the house keys in the sink basin.

Rabble ran his hand through his hair in agitation, the strands already standing on end from the fingers he’d been rakingthrough it. The sharp tug of him pulling his hair centered him, just barely.

Annoyance shot through him. Almost eight years of combat and hostile situation experience had utterly failed him. The fear that rode him nearly all-consuming, and he hated how useless and weak he felt. When his brain registered thathisSkye was missing, not a stranger, all his training and experience dissipated like a cloud of dust, even though he needed it more than ever.

Declan investigated the rest of the cottage, finding the same things Rabble had, her relatively tidy bedroom and bathroom. Both wonderfully ordinary.

“Whatever happened,” Dash strode to the living room, his hazel-green eyes clear of the panic swamping Rabble, “is localized to here.”

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