Page 85 of Kylie

“Oh, my. I would love some pancakes.”

“With chocowate chips,” Haden murmured, his wide eyes pinned on his mother.

“Blueberries,” Gage corrected.

“Boobewies,” Haden echoed.

“Whatever the chef thinks is best,” Kylie told him with a smile reserved just for him.

Some of the tightness in my chest eased. It would take a while before that band would loosen enough for me to breathe easily, but I had no doubt it would get there. It was possibly the first time in my life that I felt optimistic about anything. I would admit I generally walked around with a dark cloud of doubt hanging overhead. But Kylie coming back from the dead … it had changed me.

Yeah, sure. She’d only been back for a few hours, and I didn’t know what the future would bring for us, but I knew without a doubt that I would do whatever I had to in order to bring this family back together. We’d all suffered. Maybe not the same way Kylie had, but the loss had been brutal. Having her back had instantly healed some wounds. There were others that would take time, but as I said, I had faith.

Two hours later, after the eight of us had shared breakfast and the kids had talked over one another in an effort to bring their mother up to speed on everything that was going on, Gage convinced the kids to take a break and watch a movie so Kylie could shower. While she did that, I returned a dozen text messages and a few phone calls, filling my brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, and a few unrelated folks in on everything that was going on.

The rumor mill had kicked into high gear, and word had spread early that Kylie was home after a harrowing ordeal. When they asked if they could visit, I told them to give her time, and they agreed to hold off until Sunday dinner at Mom and Pop’s. Not many were thrilled with the idea of waiting three more days, but they agreed.

Once I was finished returning calls, I sat down at my desk in my office and stared at my computer. There was a list of things that I needed to take care of, most of them pertaining to the resort, but I couldn’t focus for shit. It was another first for me. Rather than immerse myself in work, I started making a list with pen and paper. I noted all the things we needed to get to replace what we had discarded after Kylie’s⁠—

Yeah. I couldn’t even finish that thought because my wife wasn’t dead. My wife had never been dead. Certain people had wanted us to believe that was the case, and they’d pulled off an elaborate ruse to make it happen. A ruse that involved locking my wife in a fucking hell hole.

I didn’t have all the details. Not yet. I did, however, know what my wife looked like, and that was more than enough.

From the bits and pieces I’d gotten from Kieran, Kylie was on an upward trend when it came to her health. It was difficult to imagine that she had actually weighed less than she did now, but he’d said she had actually gained back nearly ten pounds. If I had to guess, she needed to put on another thirty to be in a healthy range.

He also informed me that the doctor who’d been taking care of her at the safe house was confident that there would only be minimal lasting damage, provided the nutrient deficiencies were managed correctly. The worst of it, at least at this point, was the severe nerve damage in her foot from the shackle that had been used to chain her to the floor.

Physically, she had a good chance of living a normal life again. As for her mental state, that was an entirely different and equally important issue.

I wanted to know more, wanted Kylie to share that information with me. Not because I particularly wanted the gory details, but I wanted my wife to open up, to trust us to help her. At the same time, I didn’t want to prod too much for fear it would traumatize her more.

I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. The need for vengeance hummed just under my skin. It was so powerful, I felt lightheaded. I was battling it down when Gage stepped into my office, his eyes zeroing in on me instantly.

I met his gaze and hoped he saw the effort I was making to refrain.

His eyes darted to my open laptop. “Tell me you aren’t…”

I shook my head. “I’m not. I’m lettin’ Brantley and Reese handle it.”

For now, anyway. But I kept that to myself.

“Lettin’ Brantley and Reese handle what?” Kylie asked, stepping around Gage to come into my office.

She was wearing the same clothes—my zip-up hoodie, my T-shirt, and Gage’s sweatpants, all of which swallowed her completely. Her hair was wet from her shower. Without makeup, she looked so much like the girl I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Only older and more wary.

She glanced between us, clearly expecting an answer.

“Find Martin Calloway,” Gage answered when I was unable to.

Kylie’s eyebrows lifted, her eyes darting to me. “The hell we are.”

Gage frowned, and I could feel his disapproval.

“Oh, hell, no,” Kylie said, her voice rising, her eyes locked on me. “I told you last night. I want to make him pay.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. She had mentioned it, but I had taken it to mean she wanted the search for him to continue. And it was. My cousin would continue with his plan to take down Censorious and Martin Calloway once and for all. I wasn’t the only one who wanted vengeance.

“Brantley and Reese have a task force who can handle this,” Gage explained. “It’s their job.”