Wallflowers: One Heart Remains Page 9

  “Looks like someone broke in,” Sienna whispered, trying to draw me away from the door.

  “Knock, then call out,” Cali said. I turned back to look at her and caught movement up the beach. I squinted, and swore I saw Nate, Bo, and Devin peeling from the shadows like avenging angels, their faces grim in the streetlights as they marched our direction.

  “Is that . . .”

  Sienna turned at my question. Her breath caught in surprise, just as Cali leaned in and knocked, calling out, “Hello?” The air around us seemed to charge with anticipation, then in a burst of energy, a hooded male barreled through the door, knocking me into the girls and onto my back. Stars exploded in my head when it connected with the decking, dazing me momentarily. I rolled to my side and forced my eyes open to make sure he wasn’t coming back for round two. He wasn’t. Instead he was racing toward the surf, and he was carrying the youngest daughter with his hand cupped over her mouth. I didn’t waste time getting to my feet as the girls shouted at the Terrifying Trio—Nate, Bo, and Devin—currently sprinting full-steam ahead. I screamed for the man to stop, causing him to look over his shoulder while I ran after him. As he tried to climb a sand dune, his right foot snagged on something and he stumbled. Using both my hands, I dug into the sand for support and climbed up the dune in pursuit. I reached the hooded figure as he got to his feet and grabbed hold of the little girl’s waist. I tugged, wrapping my arms tighter around her body, trying to dislodge her from his arms. She slipped in his grasp and I tugged harder, then went flying on my back with the child still wrapped in my arms when he backhanded me across the face. My already pounding head groaned on impact, and I bit my lip. Needing to put distance between myself and the kidnapper, I began to roll back down the sand dune with the tiny girl tucked into my chest. I heard Nate roar my name. The kidnapper looked over his shoulder at the pissed-off trio of badasses rushing toward us and bolted. Without looking back for his quarry, he pushed off the dune and sprinted for the water.

  I was suddenly surrounded by the Wallflowers as the child began to wail. I sat up in time to see the Terrifying Trio fly up the dune and over. Nate was in the lead with murder in his eyes.

  Sienna pulled the frightened child into her arms while Cali helped me stand. “I’m taking her to Bernice,” Sienna shouted, then turned and ran back to the cottage.

  A shout rang out in the distance, then the thunder of gunfire rent the night air. My blood froze in horror at the sound. Was that Bo firing or the kidnapper?

  On weak legs, I climbed the sand dune with Cali in tow. My heart pounded in fear, afraid we would find one of our men shot. At the top of the dune, we watched silently in relief as our men dove unharmed into the surf, trying to catch the kidnapper. He was twenty yards ahead of them, battling the tide as he swam for a powerboat anchored in the shallows. I held my breath when the kidnapper pulled himself into the boat and started the engine. I couldn’t tell who was who in the moonlit waters, but all three stopped when the boat’s propellers kicked up sand and water. They dove below the surface when the bow lurched toward them and Cali and I both screamed.

  The boat seemed to pass right over the top of the men. For a few frantic seconds we waited for them to surface, then our legs were carrying us down the dune when three heads broke the surface. I stopped a few feet from the water as the men trudged to the beach, but Cali kept going, battling the tide before throwing herself at Devin. Envy curled around my gut as she buried her face in his neck, her legs wrapping around his waist like a vise. She remained plastered to him as he made his way to the beach. Devin acted as if she weighed mere ounces, carrying the extra burden easily. And the relief on his face when he reached the sand and buried his own face into her neck, closed my throat. They loved each other so much.

  Nate was the last out of the water. I scanned his drenched clothes for any signs of blood, avoiding his eyes as he walked right up to me and stopped.

  “Look at me,” he bit out.

  Raising my eyes slowly, I stared at his neck instead of his face. When he tilted my head back and ran his thumb across my bruised jaw, I closed my eyes to stop the tears from welling. Heat rose up my neck and bloomed in my cheeks at the tenderness in his touch.

  “I’ll fuckin’ kill him when I get my hands on him.” I jerked in surprise at his angry, yet smooth as molasses voice.

  Hearing the tone sent a shiver down my spine. I knew at that moment he meant what he said, and it sent panic coursing through me. I stepped back and began to shake. The adrenaline rushed through my veins until it settled in my heart, causing my fight or flight instinct to kick in.

  “I’m okay. Thank you for your concern,” I said without meeting his eyes, then turned and headed toward the cottage at a dead run. I had to burn off the hormones wreaking havoc through my system, or I’d collapse at his feet again.

  I kept running until the lights from a sheriff’s cruiser came into view. Then I picked up my pace, concern for the other girls overshadowing everything else. When I reached the rental, I saw Justin Moore, the Sheriff of Chatham County, climbing the steps with his gun drawn. He was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans instead of his uniform, his hair a mess like he’d rolled out of bed and rushed right over. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me and scowled. I started to say, “The little girl is with Bernice,” but he was looking over my shoulder. “Strawn, what the fuck?”

  “Attempted kidnapping of a minor female.” Bo stopped at my side then looked down at me. “Ms. Gentry here recovered the child while Hawthorne, Jacobs, and I pursued the kidnapper. He escaped by water in a high-powered boat. Red. Headed north toward Hilton Head.”

  Justin raised a finger, holstered his weapon, then grabbed his handheld and barked orders into the static while we waited. I was itching to get inside the rental and find the other girls.

  “This where the abduction occurred?” Justin asked as soon as he was done.

  I nodded. “She was with her parents and two other sisters.”

  Bo looked down at me. “Go sit with Bernice, we’ll let you know when we need a statement.”

  I started to argue, but a large hand grabbed my elbow, pulling me across the deck. Justin jerked his head at Nate as we passed. Peering over my shoulder as Nate walked me down the deck, I watched Moore enter the rental, calling out, “Chatham County Sheriff,” as Bo followed, dripping seawater as he went.

  Nate’s jaw was taut as he led me back to Bernice’s. He didn’t say anything, just kept right on walking. I heard footsteps behind us, so I glanced over my shoulder and found Cali and Devin, his clenched jaw in a mirror image of Nate’s.

  Bernice gasped, “Is she hurt?” when Nate ducked his head through the cottage door.

  “Yeah,” he bit out. “We need ice for her jaw.”

  That’s when I realized he was shaking with anger. I pulled back and looked up, flinching at what I saw. His eyes were burning with heat, his lips pressed into a tight line, and the color of his face had turned a scary shade of peeved-off Neanderthal.

  I pulled my arm out of his hand, looking at anything but the man in front of me. I guess he was pissed because I ran from him.

  Bo popped his head in the door, catching Devin’s attention. Devin followed him out to the porch. I looked around the cottage for the little girl and found Sienna sitting in a chair, rocking her as she sniffled and sucked her thumb.

  Turning back when the door opened, I studied Devin’s expression as he entered. I was on pins and needles waiting to hear about the rest of the children.

  “One male, one female, and two minor females were found bound and gagged in a bedroom. All alive. Moore asked us to bring Rachel to her parents. He wants the rest of us to give our statements at the station this mornin’ at nine,” Devin relayed. I sat on the edge of the couch and took my first full breath since we’d heard someone scream. The girls were unharmed.

  Sienna stood with the little girl named Rachel, cuddling her close. Devin opened the door, and she exited. I could see Bo on the porch waiting for h
er, speaking with an officer. When Devin closed the door, he looked back at Nate and his jaw twitched.

  “What?” Nate asked, watching Devin as closely as I was.

  “The father is State Senator Ryan Scott.”

  Nate blinked at the information, then closed his eyes, growling, “Shitstorm.”

  “Fuckin’ hurricane.”

  I glanced at Cali to see why both men looked ready to punch a hole in the wall. She looked confused too.

  “What?” I asked Devin. “I don’t pay attention to politicians because they’re all liars with an agenda. Why does it matter who this guy is?”

  “He’s got the final undecided vote on a gamblin’ bill before the Georgia House. If he votes yes, then a state question allowin’ Native Americans to open casinos will be put before the voters.”

  That still didn’t tell me why they were so tense. I didn’t pay attention to the news. Heck, I never watched TV. If I’m not on my computer working on a cover, then my nose is buried in a book. Fiction is way more entertaining than the real world.

  “And?”

  Nate looked down at me. “It’s been a statewide debate. Scott’s been all over the news, his face on the front of magazines. He plans to run for governor in the next election, so he’s been closemouthed about how he’s leanin’.”

  “What’s the big deal about gamblin’?” I directed my question at Devin. The less interaction Nate and I had, the better. “And why does this make his daughter’s attempted kidnappin’ a, you know, a shitestorm or a hurricane?” I swear I saw his lips twitch. Had he never heard the word shite?

  “We’re in the heart of the Bible Belt. Folks don’t want the kind of corruption that comes with casinos, and it’s a shitstorm because you three just saved his daughter, which means the press is gonna want a piece of you. They’ll hound you until you want to pull a gun and shoot them,” Nate ground out, answering for Devin, his anger escalating. “It’ll be fuckin’ pandemonium within a few hours, once word gets out. Probably even make national news.”

  Oh. My. God.

  “Why does this keep happenin’ to us?” I asked Cali, because honestly, it was like we were cursed. First Maria dies, and Cali gets kidnapped because of Devin’s stalker. Then we get chased through Savannah by a meth-head before falling victim to gold thieves who leave us for dead. Now my father has returned with the ghost of my real mother attached, and a grandfather who murdered her. But this . . . This made my stomach churn more than dealing with the ghost of my mother. I’m an introverted extrovert. I don’t like people in general but can talk to them easily if need be. Being hounded by the press, who would want to know who we were, was my worst nightmare. My entire past could come to light.

  Cali looked as freaked out as I did, until Devin mumbled, “At least I’m not draggin’ the Savannah River.”

  Oh boy!

  Cali whirled on him, her posture defensive. He needed to learn when to hold them or fold them. She was still pissed at his earlier outburst that we’d end up dead if we left their sight. “You think this is funny?” she bit back, her expression one of a pissed-off Wallflower with thorns.

  Devin rounded on her quickly, his own anger and impatience seemingly restored, and kept walking until he’d backed her into the wall. “Do I look like I’m laughin’?”

  “We don’t plan any of this. We were inside when it went down,” she defended, pushing at his chest. “How are we to blame this time?”

  “If you’d stayed inside and called the police, sayin’ you heard a noise rather than goin’ outside and investigatin’, would you still be in this mess?”

  Cali opened her mouth then she looked to me. I twisted my lips to keep from admitting he was right. We’d leaped before we looked once again. But, in the grand scheme of things, it was a good thing we had, or a little girl would be in the hands of a kidnapper. And that cinched it for me. No matter how bad the press got, it was worth the aggravation since it meant Rachel was safe.

  “You can’t tame a tiger,” Bernice called out, glaring at Devin. “You can’t stop a river from risin’ or the sun from settin’ any more than you can order these women to think before they react. It’s in their nature to rush to the aid of others. You can bellow all you want, but you won’t change who they are. And it’s a good thing, too, since Rachel was saved because of their pigheadedness. You need to accept them as they come, ‘cause orderin’ a Wallflower to stay put works about as well as tryin’ to baptize a cat. You’ll just end up covered in blood with an angry female spittin’ and hissin’ at you.”

  I couldn’t stop a giggle from rising at the sight of Bernice laying into to Devin and hitting him with the truth. Or the look on his face when she raised a brow at him for trying to intimidate her niece. I covered my mouth when Devin looked between both women and considered her advice, then cleared his throat and mumbled, “Yes, ma’am,” before curling his arm around Cali’s neck and kissing her temple. It was awesome to watch, but I didn’t believe for a second Devin agreed with her. He was too alpha to change his mind. Too in love with Cali to back down where her safety was concerned. And the smirk Cali gave him when he answered said she didn’t believe he’d backed down any more than I did.

  Bernice smiled at his response then patted his arm, drawling, “Such a gentleman,” before winking at me. I snorted in response. Bernice didn’t believe he meant it either. I looked up at Nate, expecting to see humor written across his face, but I found narrowed eyes glaring at me. Before I could move out of his line of fire, I was up and over his shoulder like a rag doll.

  Five

  HOPE SOARED

  “PUT ME DOWN!” POPPY CRIED OUT, POUNDING on Nate’s back.

  He’d put her down, just as soon as he had her in a room where she couldn’t run from him. The first door he came to was a bedroom, so he moved inside and kicked the door closed with his soggy fucking boot. Then Nate hitched Poppy up and over his shoulder, tossing her on the unmade bed. He could hear laughter in the room behind him, but it did nothing to calm his mood. Seeing Poppy struck across the face still bled in his memory like a bad dream. Like a memory from his childhood, leaving him unsettled, because he didn’t have the man in front of him, so he could take his pound of flesh.

  Poppy poofed her silky fucking hair out of her eyes when she landed and glared at him. “What the heck, Nate?”

  He raised his hand to keep her quiet, so he could rein in his temper. Poppy opened her mouth then took a good look at his face and shut it.

  Smart move, baby.

  With both hands clenched, yet a-fucking-gain, Nate took a deep breath, then another, but the sight of her head twisting to the side from the strike kept repeating in a loop.

  “Nate?” Her tone was a question, but it was soft as a breeze against overheated skin, and he relaxed marginally. He’d closed his eyes to keep from seeing the bruise forming underneath her skin, so he didn’t know she’d moved off the bed. But he heard her tiny feet pad the short distance between them until he could smell her standing in front of him. Her hair always smelled of strawberries with a hint of baby powder, rather than some heavy-handed scent that came from a salon most women wore. It reminded him of summer and the shortcake his mother used to make when he was a kid. Of the times his father would disappear after laying a hand on his mother, licking his wounds because she’d forced him to punish her for wearing something that attracted other men’s attention. Or for spending too long at the fucking mall buying Nate new shoes. But mostly it reminded him of the best of times. When his father was gone, his mother smiled. And seeing her smile made him want more out of life.

  Nate hadn’t felt that kind of driving need since he’d left for college on a football scholarship. He knew he’d been handed a golden opportunity to gain an education, one that would allow him to move his mother from the trailer park he grew up in. He’d spent the last eight years building, planning, and plotting his bar’s future so his mother would never have to worry about money. Even naming the bar as a reminder that it was the
ir ladder out of hell. But the moment he’d walked out of his office and found Poppy giving Devin shit, that feeling of wanting more out of life had crept back in until he was drowning in it. He could fucking taste it on the air when she was close. The demons that followed him daily would vanish in a haze of strawberry and baby powder, until he remembered whose son he was. But all that changed the moment Poppy reached out and grabbed hold of his hand because she needed him. Whatever demons still rode his soul, and burned in his gut, paled in comparison to the need he had to make her world right again.

  “Nate?” She whispered his name this time and his agitation bled away further. When she placed her soft hand on his arm, his knees almost buckled with the release of his aggression. Wrapping his arms around her waist so she couldn’t escape him, Nate leaned down until he could rest his cheek against the side of her head. He drew in a deep breath, forcing her innocent scent deep into his lungs, until peace settled in his gut.

  They stood there for several minutes. Nate breathing her in, and Poppy stroking his back as if to tame a savage beast.

  “Stop runnin’ from me,” he finally whispered in her ear.

  “I have to. It will never work between us.” Her tone pleaded with him to understand.

  Nate pulled back until he could see her face, searching for the answer as to why she’d built her walls so high. Eyes the color of light jade screamed with pain, and it was almost his undoing. It unleashed something primitive in him, stripped him down to his basest instinct to protect her. He would figure out what her demons were, and then he’d fight them single-handedly. “How do you know unless you try?” he asked, tilting her chin up.

  Her eyes flashed with panic and she began to pull away from his hold. “Let me go!”

  “I’m not lettin’ you go. Not now, not ever.”

  “We can’t be together!” She squirmed in his arms.

  “We can.”

  “It won’t work.”

  “It will. Just trust me,” he argued, shaking her gently to get her attention. She continued to struggle against his hold, her eyes wide with fear that he could almost taste on the air. Poppy pushed back against his chest, and he sighed with frustration. He wanted to shake her harder until he broke loose some of her stubborn streak.