Page 105 of Fighting For Light
“You did what you had to do. It was me or him, and you chose me. Thanks, by the way.” I kiss her cheek and taste her tears on my lips. I hate seeing her cry. I hate that marrying me was the sole cause of those tears, but we don’t have time for regrets right now. We need to go. “Are the bags packed, baby?”
She nods. I pull her to her feet and hug her into my chest. “I love you, Cordelia. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you had to pull the trigger. We can talk about it, but we need to leave right now.” I almost tell her about Mom, but she’s okay, and I want to keep her calm. I’ll tell her in the car when we leave.
Her cheeks puff out. Then she grips my shirt, yanking me down to her level, and kisses me like the world is burning down around us. Like this is all we have left.
My hand slides to the front of her throat, and I angle her jaw up and plunge my tongue into her mouth. She whimpers, and I nip her lip before pulling away. Our eyes lock, and a silent I love you passes through her baby blues.
She lifts her chin and walks out of our bedroom. I grab our bags to follow behind and don’t look back. We might have to disappear for a while. I don’t know for sure, so there’s no point in lingering over things that you can’t bring with you, the memories you have no choice but to leave behind. Usually, it’s not this hard because there haven’t been many to leave behind. This time, I’ve lost count of the good ones. I keep my head facing forward, refusing to look into my son’s room and fly down the stairs. Icheck the area one more time. Everything is clean and bleached. Liam takes the bags from my hands and tosses them into his Land Rover as Emerson helps Cordelia into the back seat. I set the security again and lock the door behind me before hopping into the SUV with Cordi.
The twenty-minute drive to Mom’s house is silent. I catch Liam checking his mirrors constantly in case there are more than the four men sent to our house. The one left alive is tied up in Emerson’s truck, lying with the other bodies in the bed.
This is one of those moments where time is of the essence and information is king. Fred Coldwell has finally made his move. But the bigger question is, was this a kidnapping attempt or a hit? The only way to figure out thewhyis to get them talking. Regardless of the answer, it tells me that my father’s circumstances have changed.
“They came after Mom, too,” I say quietly to Cordelia, reaching for her hand. She slides to the center of the back seat and tucks herself into my side.
“Is she okay?” Cordi asks.
Liam glances at me through the rearview then looks over his shoulder at Cordi. “Yeah, Cordi, she’s alright. She’s a little shaken up, but knowing our mom, she’s more pissed than anything,” Liam says.
She looks at me long and hard for a moment before laying her head against my chest. “Tell me it’s going to be okay, even if it isn’t. I need to hear it right now,” she whispers. I kiss the top of her head, breathing in her honey scent, tinged with gunpowder.
“It’s all going to be okay. We are all going to be okay,” I tell her, placing my hand on her belly. She’s seven months now. Time is truly of the essence because this baby boy is coming, whether we’re ready or not.
48
Kai
Liam turns into thedriveway as the gates slowly open to let us in. “Mom won’t be home for another hour. Clarence said they’re on their way.”
“Good, we can get our new guest into his room,” I say while focusing solely on Cordi. She’s been quiet, partly because she crashed after the adrenaline high. On the other hand, I think she has no idea what to say to me. She’s dealing with the fact she just killed another human to save her husband.
Emerson drives up behind us and turns off the truck.
“Let me get Cordi settled, and I’ll come back out,” I tell Liam, then follow Cordelia to the garage door. It’s quiet, dark, and it’s putting Cordi back on edge. I gently rest my hand on her lower back, and she stiffens. Frowning, I open the door for her and flip on the light. We have a large mudroom with locker systems like you’d see for kids and two large closets. There’s a small sitting space for coffee or breakfast as we step out of the mudroom, and then the butler’s pantry is to the right. The massive kitchen opens to a partially open concept, with the living room on the other end of the space. From the living room, it opens to Mom’spiano room. We weren’t allowed in there as kids unless we were specifically playing piano, and that never worked for any of us. My brothers and I were simply too restless.
In front of the kitchen is an archway to the large dining room that could easily seat forty people. Then there’s the hallway that opens to Mom’s office, and a little further back is a bedroom and a bathroom hardly ever used. Because basements aren’t common in California, it’s more of a lower level that doubles as our containment area. The house is built into the rock, absorbing a lot of sounds.
Cordelia hasn’t been here before, so I step to the side, letting her take in the space and get comfortable with it. I need to get back out to my brothers because we have a job to do, but I want to make sure she is settled and okay. She starts walking towards the front of the house, where we have a large spiral staircase that takes you upstairs, and stares at it a moment before taking a step. I almost carry her up, but her refusing me would be more painful right now. As kids, we would slide down the large banister and try not to get thrown off. More often than not, we gained too much speed and were launched into the wall or couldn’t stop our fall. Liam broke his wrist once, trying to do it.
Once we get to the top of the stairs, I point her to the right and down the unusually wide hallway towards my room. Mom always has it ready for us. Liam stays here more often than not because he comes and goes so much, even though he does have a crappy apartment by the beach. Emerson is here a lot, too, but won’t stay unless it’s utterly necessary. I’ve always thought it was his way of distancing himself from the family, but as I got older, I realized he thinks he’s protecting us from him. We’re not that far apart in age, but Emerson has always acted older than he is. We all have had to.
Cordi steps to the side, letting me lead the way. I stop at the third door on the left and open it for her. It’s a large room withan en suite bathroom and a small sitting area where I used to pile clothes.
“This is a really nice room,” she says, looking around. The large king-size bed is covered in a woven green comforter with a bunch of pillows.
“The bathroom and towels are in here. You can take a bath if you want,” I say. She stands in the bathroom with me, looking at the vanity with one sink and a large mirror above it. “It’s a big bathroom, especially for one person. The shower, though, is my favorite part. It’s big enough for at least three people, including a bench and body sprays.” When I was younger, and we were training in hand-to-hand combat, those body sprays felt good on my sore muscles.
Cordi’s shut down. She’s here, but she’s not fully present. Exhaustion is heavy on her face, and sleep is the only thing that will help. That’s if she can sleep. I’m worried she won’t be able to, which isn’t good for her or the baby. I grab some towels from the closet and set them to the side.
“I’m going to go get our bags,” I tell her. She stares at me for a moment, and I leave the room and find Liam and Emerson bringing them to me.
“Thanks, guys,” I mutter, taking them.
“We’re going to get our other guest settled. I already called the funeral home and told them we had a late delivery. I’m going to run and do that, so take your time with Cordi,” Emerson says.
“I’ll come with you,” Liam offers.
Emerson shakes his head, a serious look on his face. “No, stay here. Better for one of us to get caught than two.”
