I blink through the burn to find a hazy Kane kneeling over me and I don’t know how he has water, but he starts flushing my eyes. When the pain eases enough to be bearable, I sit up, he unties me, and I catch the ground with my free hands—trying to gain my equilibrium and to put everything that just happened together. “You shot Desmond and saved me again, didn’t you?”
“The bastard didn’t want to die. He came at me after I shot him. But he’s down now. And you’re alive. I told you, you’re not getting out of the wedding this time.”
I laugh and glance over at Marilyn, my vision getting clearer by the moment. Kane does the same. “Now you can say you kissed a girl and liked it.”
“That was my kind of bad joke.”
“You’re rubbing off on me.”
“I didn’t use a knife this time. Well, I tried and failed. But you don’t have to bury the body. My hands were tied and she was trying to kill me. Had I rolled off of her, I’d probably be dead right now.”
It’s only then that the sirens even register and I jolt with awareness. “There was a gunshot. Oh God. Jay and Enrique.” I pop to a squatting position and Kane, still squatting as well, catches my arm. “Jay was shot.”
My heart races. “Please tell me he’s not dead.”
“It’s bad. I called an ambulance and Enrique and Kit were trying to stop the bleeding when I came after you.”
“Who shot him?”
“We’re not sure. He’s in custody, though, so we'll know soon enough.”
My world spins and I stand up, launching into a full run toward the house. I get there as they wheel Jay to the ambulance.
“How is he?” I demand of the EMS techs.
“He needs blood. Now.”
“That’s all they say before they shut the doors.”
Me, Kane, Enrique, and Kit staring after it.
“Where are the other men?” I ask.
“Dead,” Kane replies. “Desmond killed them.”
And before this is over, Jay may be dead, too.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
“That damn red bracelet doesn’t work worth a shit,” I say standing at the back of the SUV with Kane as I pull off my mace-covered shirt and pull on one of Kane’s T-shirts. It hangs to my knees. A really great look with my high-heeled boots, but I don’t care. I just want to get to the hospital.
“He’s alive.”
“He’s fired. He’s not doing this anymore. Anyone this unlucky needs to do something else.”
When we finally get to the ER, Jay is in surgery. Per the doctor, the bullet went into his chest but missed his heart. He has a good chance of surviving.
For the next hour, me, Kane, and the crew talk with local law enforcement, give statements, and coordinate with Andrew and Houston. It’s over. Let’s just hope it’s not over for Jay.
Three hours later, we get word that he’s in recovery and he’s going to be okay. The lot of us stay at the hospital until he wakes up. When he does, I’m there. “Damn you, Jay. Stop trying to die on me.”
“I’m okay. And you’re okay. We’re all okay.”
“Do you have a number for your girlfriend?” I ask. “Can we call her? Maybe you need to retire and go drink tea with her on some tropical island. I’ll pay you if you will.”
“We broke up,” he whispers. grimacing. “It was never going to work. I need this life. And hey, that bracelet worked. Missed my heart.”
“Fool,” I whisper.
“Bitch,” he whispers right back, and then shuts his eyes, and falls asleep.
***
For the next week, me, Kane, Kit, and Enrique stay with Jay around the clock. News slowly trickles in about Marilyn and Desmond. Turns out the man who shot Jay was the groundskeeper, Charlie Henry, a man who’d known Marilyn since she was a child, and believed Kane’s men were intruders. Or so he said. It wasn’t long until he confessed to being more involved and helping Marilyn and Desmond for a retirement payday. Charlie’s a widower, and his wife owned a chocolate shop. He made the chocolates, but he had no idea what they were used for. Desmond did the dirty work of inserting the weapon that killed Rip. Charlie did a lot of talking, but the bulk of the information about the grand scheme of things came from Desmond’s apartment. He didn’t just have a lab. He kept journals that CSI tells me included long rambling notes about all the people he wanted to pay for their sins against him. But until they finish processing them as evidence, I won’t get a look.
By week two, Jay’s up and moving around and doing well. Kane and I finally really take a moment for ourselves in the Boston hotel and decide it really is perfect for the wedding. We apply and receive yet another marriage license. We also make last-minute plans for the wedding and the guest hotel rooms that should have been made months ago. And then we take a short chopper ride out to Cranberry Island, where the waters are clear and beautiful and life is secluded but not far from a mainland.
The house is more a mansion with its own chopper landing pad, a pool, a full gym, and enough square footage for five families. But then, the men who work with us are family. It’s perfect. And it’s furnished. We can slowly redecorate our way.
We keep the hotel in Boston for the wedding, with a cake and flowers already planned. The island will be our escape after the wedding. A honeymoon, before a real honeymoon in Paris, we decide. Once the house is a sure thing, and Jay is released, we all head home to the Hamptons. Andrew is at the airport waiting on us and he hugs the hell out of me. And then he turns to Kane.
“You saved her again.”
“I’ll tell you what I told her. She isn’t getting out of marrying me this time.”
Andrew doesn’t laugh. He shakes Kane’s hand and thanks him.
I guess my brother loves me. And good news, that bitch of a girlfriend of his doesn’t seem to be around anymore. I haven’t asked, though. I don’t want to know if she is right now.
On Christmas Eve, Kit, Enrique, and even a stiff, barely-mobile Jay joins us. Andrew, too, and when I find out Lucas is alone, Kane crumbles and lets me invite him. And the whole big lot of us end up in the kitchen cooking. Seems everyone is a little gun shy when it comes to catering in food right now.
When it comes to gifts, Kane gives everyone but Lucas Rolex watches, even Andrew. And while that might not seem personal to most, each was engraved with the word, Familia, family in Spanish. Andrew stares at the words and then his eyes meet mine. I smile and he raises the watch toward Kane with a lift of his chin, as if he’s saying. Yes. Familia.
“What about me?” Lucas says, admiring Andrew’s watch.
“I let you live this year,” Kane replies. “Next year isn’t guaranteed.”
“Merry Christmas, then,” Lucas says, downing the whiskey in his glass.
The room fills with laughter.
As for each other—Kane and I already have our gifts. Right before going to the island, we went and bought our wedding bands. That’s all either of us wanted this year.