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“I have no idea where he is, Catherine.” I wasn’t lying, I didn’t know where he was being kept, the guys had never disclosed that to me. She didn’t seem to like my answer, the snarl she was wearing was clear evidence of that. “How would I?”
“Stop lying,” she yelled at me, waving the gun around wildly. I watched as the woman before me started to unravel, no longer in control of her emotions. She raised the gun, pointing it straight at me. “Tell me where they are keeping him. I know those boys have him.”
Staring down the barrel of a gun, my heart pounded. I couldn’t wait around any longer for them to come to my rescue, I had to step up and take back what had been taken from me for years. I had to gain control of the situation. I was so fucking thankful for the training the girls had been doing with me.
Honing in on my self-defence training, I used one hand to push her wrist away, as the other wrapped around the muzzle, turning her wrist, aiming the gun away from my face. In the struggle to get the gun free, it went off. The expression on Catherine’s face froze. The sound was so loud that the echoes bounced off the walls. The commotion forced us both to the floor. My heart raced fast as the ringing in my ear started to die down.
We had lost the gun on impact. Frantically I scanned around me, until I saw it under the table a good two or so metres away. I felt something warm and viscous underneath me as I scrambled to reach the gun. I couldn’t chance her taking another shot. It was then that I noticed that Catherine hadn’t moved. She hadn’t even uttered a word. Bringing my hand up to my face, I knew immediately what had happened. I saw the blood as it started to pool around her. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t breathing.
“What have I done?” My words came out as a whisper as I scampered backwards until my back hit the kitchen island. I folded my body into myself. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry. Please, please, don’t be dead.”
I stared mutely at the body, faintly heard the slamming of car doors, followed by the heavy foot falls as both Stryker and Logan ran in, yelling my name. Shock, maybe even disbelief, settled in. I’d just killed someone. Not just anyone. I’d killed Logan's aunt.
Chapter Thirty Four - Stryker
My heart was hammering in my chest. When I’d answered Phee’s call, I hadn’t expected to hear the distinct, nasally voice of Catherine Ducane. Something wasn’t right. She had no business being at the beach house, so the fact that she was there alone with my Firecracker wasn’t sitting well.
“Stryker, are you listening to me?” My father was waving his hand in front of my face, which snapped me back into reality. He looked concerned as he checked me over. “Are you okay, son?”
Putting up a finger, I tried to silence him so I could listen to the conversation on the other end. “Shhh, Da, Catherine Ducane is at the beach house.”
I looked at my father as I listened in. What I heard wasn’t good, I could hear the vile cunt, as she went on about what they should have done. I should have just brought Phee with me. How could I have been so damn stupid?
I had to leave. As I stood, I looked up at my dad again. I saw the slight nod, and the hint of a smile as he let me know that I was making the right choice. “Go, son. If that bitch is there, it can’t be good. If you need me, you call. I’ll have a crew on standby.”
My father must have read my mind, because if that woman harmed a single hair on my Firecracker’s head, she would be leaving that house in pieces. I don’t think I stopped for a single stop sign as I sped through the streets of Southport to get to Phee. I ended up pulling into the driveway at the same time as Logan did. I shut the engine off and jumped out.
“You sure it’s my aunt?” he questioned as he rounded the front of his truck. I could see the disbelief on his face.
Nodding, I ran up the stairs to the door. Just as I opened it, we heard a sound that made my heart stop.
BANG!
Looking at each other, the panic I was feeling was mirrored back to me in Logan’s eyes.
“Phee!” both of us screamed in unison, bolting through the front door. I could hear her. The broken pleas between the sobs. Relief washed over me, knowing that she was alive. But as quickly as it came, it was replaced with heartbreak.
“I didn’t mean to,” Phee kept saying over and over. She sounded wounded. As we entered the room, we saw the signs of a struggle—a few chairs were on their sides. Lying on the floor, between the table and island bench, was Catherine. A lifeless figure surrounded by a puddle of red. Curled into a ball next to the island was Phee. Her eyes were fixed on the body.
“Phee, look at me, baby.” I knelt down in front of her and grabbed her face, trying to bring her focus back to me. “Logan, help me, man. We need to get her out of here.”
Nothing seemed to work. Shooting Logan a worried look, I bundled her up, taking her to her room. I needed to make sure she was okay, because she’d gone catatonic. I had no idea what this would do to her already fragile state, but in that moment, all I was concerned with was making sure she came out the other side of this, her light still intact. I needed to call in the clean-up crew. More than ever, I needed my father’s help with this. The need to shield and protect her was stronger now.
“Stryker,” Logan called out to me. Turning, I could see the turmoil in his eyes. I didn't need him to finish his sentence, because I had a feeling we were thinking the same thing.
“I know, man. I’ll handle this,” I tried to reassure him, at the same time looking after my Firecracker. I just prayed this didn’t change her all too much. I threw him the keys to my car. In the haste to get to Phee, I’d left my phone sitting in the dock. “Grab my phone for me, Lo. . . I’m sorry, man.”
Taking Phee into the bathroom, I sat her on the vanity, turning on the shower. I gave her a once over for my own peace of mind. Made sure she didn’t have any cuts, bruises, bullet wounds. It didn’t take Logan long to return with my phone. Getting a good look at him, he didn’t seem to be too affected. Still, I couldn’t imagine how he was feeling .
“Stryker,” Logan called from outside the bathroom door, before coming in. Logan handed me my phone .
“Phee, I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?” I leaned in and whispered in her ear, kissing her on the cheek before I exited the bathroom. “Thanks, man.”
Taking the phone, I made a brief call to my dad. After that afternoon, I knew everything was gonna change. I was okay with that notion, I just had to make sure everyone else would be on board with it.
“Stryker,” Logan reached out to stop me. “I want to help.”
Looking at him, a little confused, I asked, “Help?”
