“Come on, Kylie. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Promise me that if I don’t return, you’ll head to California straight away,” I say, brushing her off.Someday I’ll make it up to you, sis. “Follow your dreams without worrying about me.”
“Why wouldn’t you return?”
“I’m begging you, Madelyn. Just do as I say. Promise me.”
She sighs. “I promise.”
I pull her into me and hug her tight. “I love you.”
“Be safe, okay?”
“You got it.” I inhale sharply. “Jesus, I’ve got to hurry.”
“It’s a guy, isn’t it?” I hear her shout, but I’m slamming the door shut.
Go. Please go.
On the drive through Shelby, switching gears physically and mentally—I’ll deal with Franco as well as the Declan issue later.
I contemplate texting Jaxson. But I’ve ten minutes to spare. I swallow hard, trying to reassure myself.
We practiced for this. He’s prepared. Jaxson’s a master manipulator, an ex-Marine, a trained killer. Novák and his bodyguard won’t know what hit them.
What’s hitmeis how deeply I love him. My falling in love with him began as a summer shower, the kind you wiggle your toes in and dance along with the raindrops. A nourishing rain refreshing me after a painful drought. It’s hard to pinpoint when my love for him changed, morphing into something greater, coming on like a gully washer, overtaking me and sweeping me clear off my feet. The day he pulled up on his motorcycle? Or earlier, the day he claimed me next to that tree stump by outlining hisJon my muddied cheek?
I’m yours. Always, Jaxson.
Shelby’s got one thing going for it. It’s a small town, and I make it to the Palace without incident. I check out the other cars as the cab drops me off. A Mazda, a pickup truck, and the BMW Novák gave Veronica are parked there as well. My racing heart slows. Thank God. Not a Mercedes in sight. I glance at my watch. I made it with roughly ten minutes until show time.
The Palace is quiet for midmorning. Nothing out of the ordinary as most of the rooms are vacant. Forgotten, given the lack of visitors vacationing in good ole Shelby. I cautiously make my way around to Jaxson’s room—our room—frowning as I notice another room’s window curtain falling back into place. Not so alone, after all.
I pause outside our door.
I swipe my room key, the lock light changing from red to green. Then I enter the room.
A pungent, metallic smell, like freshly carved iron casings, hits me first. Blood. Oh God, blood.
It’s . . . everywhere. Covering the carpet and the thirteen steps it takes me to get to the bed. The sheets, the pillowcases, the comforter. Soaking the carpet and the seven steps it takes me to reach the bathroom. The open door, the grimy tile floor, the sink. Veronica moans. She’s slumped over the bathtub, bleeding . . . or splattered head to toe in someone else’s blood?
I fall to my knees beside her and raise my hand to nudge her. But I’m shaking, hard. No matter how I try, it’s no good. I can’t steady myself. I manage to poke Veronica on the arm with a finger.
She jumps, then whimpers. “Kylie?”
“Where’s Jaxson?” I choke out. It’s all I can get out. I’m panting, hyperventilating, drawing short inhalations of air into my lungs and keeping the dizziness at bay.
“Novák and his men found us together.”
I blink, chasing away the image of Jaxson and Veronica together. Focusing on that one word that sends me into a blind panic.Men.
“How . . . many . . .”
“A shitload. Seven, including Novák. I should have been more careful, not given into temptation . . .”
Seven.Seven. Not two.
My knee touches her thigh but I can’t feel her. I can’t feel anything.Ask her, I berate myself.