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And no better person than me to tuck them in tight.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kevlar
Sitting up in bed,Kevlar tried to steady his breathing. He looked to the spot beside him and blinked several times just to make sure. She was there. Safe and sound. He ran a hand over his face, sweat sliding down his bare chest.
They’d been back in Snowshoe for two days. After the FBI swarmed the illegal auction, they stayed in Phoenix a day to sort everything out. Kita spent a few hours in the hospital for fluids and tests. The doctors signed her out with a clean bill of health, but he wasn’t convinced.
Kevlar tossed the sheet off him, eyes glued to the end of the bed. Hawk, Rubble, and he gave the agents their statements. It all went smoothly. Kita refused to leave Phoenix until the women were placed in safe homes. Their futures remained up in the air. The government would either extradite them or allow them to stay in the US pending residency. It seemed to appease Kita’s need to save them all.
But now, the snow fell nonstop in Snowshoe, a blaring opposite of Phoenix’s heat in the same week. He watched flakes stick to the window while his heartbeat pulsed hard. Ever since arriving back in the sleepy town, nightmares invaded him every time he closed his eyes. They all involved Kita, and none ended well. He assumed they’d stop once she was with him, but they didn’t. As badly as he wanted to believe the danger was over, his subconscious disagreed.
“Hey, you okay?”
Her warm hand on his chest comforted him momentarily, and he placed a hand over hers. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”
He leaned over and kissed her temple. That was the extent of what they’d done. His body demanded more but he couldn’t. After what she’d been through, he wasn’t sure he should touch her yet. He didn’t want to hurt her or bring up the pain. She could handle anything, but he wasn’t sure she could handle the love he so desperately needed to show her.
“You sure?” She pressed her lips to his deltoid. “You haven’t slept much since we’ve been back.” Her black hair fell over his shoulder, the silky strands tickling him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He stood and grabbed a sweatshirt. The four o’clock hour struck, and he pulled sweatpants on next. He was long overdue for a run. “Go back to bed. I’m going to get my miles in.”
Kita frowned but didn’t argue. She laid back down, drawing the comforter to her nose. Within moments, the steady breathing told him she was asleep once more. In the early morning light, he noticed the faint lines of bruising on her neck. It tore him up inside that he hadn’t been there to prevent those.
He snagged his sneakers and slipped out of the room. Clearing his head with ten miles through Snowshoe would help. If not, he wasn’t sure what would.
***
Flickers of lights dotted the path the longer Kevlar ran. His breath came out in large puffs of air, the slosh beneath his feet spraying his pants with gray. The longer he ran, the more streetlights waned, and streaks of sunshine broke the horizon. Early morning was the best time to exercise in his opinion. He could watch the world slowly wake and enjoy the freshness of a brand-new day.
Heart pumping fast, he checked his watch and slowed his pace to a jog. He had a few more miles to go before he’d turn around and head back to the clubhouse. The thought of Kita in his bed urged him to abandon that idea. He pushed it aside and turned down the main drag through Snowshoe. If he got back in time, he’d whip up something for his girl and bring her breakfast in bed. She more than earned it after the last week.
A buzz in his pocket reminded him that he needed to check in with the prospects before the garage opened in a few hours. The three men were still learning but had decent skills when it came to fixing vehicles. Without a doubt, he’d suggest at least two of them stay on after they were initiated.
Kevlar waved at the couple walking their black lab across the street. Every now and then, he’d see another likeminded person up at the early hour, but more often, he was alone. Images of Kita filtered through his mind. He’d never forgive himself for letting her get abducted. Even though he helped save her, his club could’ve done more to prevent the Cutthroats and Diablos trade. He shook his head.Doubtful.They’d only heard about the trafficking ring the same time Kita and Mandi arrived.
He licked his lips.Mandi.He and Kita hadn’t discussed her yet. He wasn’t sure how. The woman was Kita’s best friend, and she lost her in one of the worst ways. He made a mental note to discuss it with his girl when he got back to his room. While he was all for letting her grieve on her terms, he wanted to be there when she did.
A notification beeped at him in his earbud. Checking the message from a prospect, he smirked. Reaper decided the prospects needed more to do, so he assigned them morning duties as well as their usual club ones. He couldn’t complain. It gave him more time to spend with Kita.
Pausing at a four-way stop, Kevlar pulled out his phone and noticed a new text message.
Joci: I missed you too, Tucker. Your nephews would love to meet you. Let me know when.
He grinned. His sister finally texted him back. For a while there, he wasn’t sure it’d happen, but it seemed her new man brought Joci back to life. After sending a quick reply, promising to look up flights, Kevlar crossed the street. With a family reunion in sight and the love of his life in his bed, nothing could get him down.
It was around mile seven that he saw them. There were at least two men in the dark green SUV. Curls of smoke escaped the tinted windows, the car creeping closer with every step he took. He picked up his pace, determined to make it back to the clubhouse before any trouble started. He hadn’t worn his vest this morning. He never did for his ten miles.
The thought urged his legs faster. If anyone watched his routine, they’d notice it too.Shit.He took a turn and heard the SUV’s engine rev. Pulling out his phone, Kevlar tried to take a picture of the vehicle behind him. If things went south, at least he’d have proof of an attack later to help the police.
The clubhouse seemed too far away. He glanced over his shoulder and didn’t spy the SUV. It was gone. Slowing, he checked the surroundings. Other than fresh snow, the city had yet to fully wake. A few cars here and there could be heard streets away, but not this close to the outskirts of town.Maybe I’m being paranoid.
Kevlar turned forward again and cursed. The elusive SUV screeched to a halt in front of him, barring his way. The window quickly rolled down, the bright orange glow of cigarettes inside.
“Muerte sends his regards,” one of the men said, a Spanish accent evident in the words.
Before he could react, the man fired his gun. The bullet sliced into Kevlar’s side, piercing pain seizing him. The vehicle surged to life and peeled around the corner and out of sight. He looked down and his gray sweatshirt darkened with blood. Pressing a hand to the wound, he let out an anguished cry.
