“Because of DiCapitano?”
“Among other reasons.”
“Let me get this straight. You hacked into my bank account?”
“Not hacked. Accessed. Password: Biology Rocks.”
I shake my head. “Why didn’t you contact me?”
“It wasn’t safe. Hell, it’s not safe now. We’ve got to get out of here. Before they track me to you.”
“No.”
Her eyebrows arch. “No?”
I’ve always been the more amiable, easygoing one. But right now, I’m ten seconds to Sunday from tossing her on her ass. God, she could piss off the Pope.
“Someone died, Kylie. It should have been me.”
She stares at me, her cheeks growing paler by the second.
“In Cabo. Four men cut my dark-haired friend up with knives. Not enough to kill her but a few deeper cuts will leave scars. Her companion was killed. They kept saying my name. They were after me. So much for protecting me. In case you haven’t figured it out already, you aren’t the only Smith in danger. Kylie, someone was sending a message to you.”
Kylie crouches over, places her hands on her knees, grits her teeth, and shuts her eyes. “He thinks he’s so goddamn untouchable. The manipulative bastard. I won’t let him get away with this.”
“Who, Kylie?”
Declan? Does she mean Declan? A broken promise is worse than a lie.
“Hurry and get dressed. We need to go.”
I hastily tug on my clothing and secure my hair into a ponytail. Then I fold my pajamas and stuff them inside the duffel, right beneath the gun. I make sure it stays on top, secured away but within reach in case I need it. “Who’s Declan to you?” I ask.
I hear her gasp.
I frown and turn back her way.
She looks so pale she could easily audition for a role in Arctic Circus Goth, if such a show exists. “No one.”
I roll my eyes at her denial. “Well, you’re someone to him.” I pause, considering how much to tell her. Most people believe that of the two of us, Kylie’s the strongest. Physically, she is. Just ask the two Shelbians with twisted noses, a reminder of the time she smashed in their faces for teasing me back on the Shelby Elementary School playground. A fighter, my sister. As opposed to me, the pacifist. Only Kylie and I understand the truth of the matter. That it’s my faith in life, my faith in people and in the goodness around us that keeps us both anchored. It’s my strength that’s seen us through our father’s murder and our mother’s death. She’d be the first to admit it.
Might as well start at the beginning . . . “He drove me to college in his pickup truck.”
Kylie is staring at me, wide-eyed. For a second, she looks just like she did when I came home from that school playground with a black eye. I refused to fight the boy. Matter of fact, I told him to hit me as hard as he could if it’d make him feel better. He almost backed down, except the other boy was egging him on.
“What?” she demands.
“Declan. He found me that morning after the Pitt closed and offered me a ride to college.” Offered isn’t exactly the term I’d use to describe our exchange. I’m choosing my words wisely because Kylie might be physically strong yet there’s an air of desperation about her, similar to how she seemed those last few months leading up to Mama’s death. That she’s straddling a thin line between normal and utterly unhinged.
“Let me get this straight. You didn’t catch a bus from Dayton as originally planned. Declan tracked you down that morning, put you in his pickup, drove across four states, and left you in San Diego.”
“Five states if you count Oklahoma.”
“Declan . . . a tall, blond beast with the personality of a pea did this?”
“I told you the night before you disappeared, he’d been to the trailer.”
“Sweet mother of Mary.” She’s got this funny look on her face, like she’s trying to solve a challenging scientific equation where none of the parts are adding up.
“He dropped you off in San Diego and left?”
“Yes.” I bite my lip, then straighten my spine. “Is he the person after you? Were you working together to bring down the mob?”
“Did he tell you that?”
I roll my eyes again.
She snorts. “Getting anything out of that coldhearted bastard is like squeezing milk out of a stone.”
“Kylie, answer my questions. I can’t help you if I don’t understand what you’re involved in.”
“Jesus Christ, Madelyn. You need to start worrying about yourself. Help me? No one can help me. I was late, so blessedly late.”
Kylie pulls herself to a standing position, blinking back tears. A rare sight, her almost crying. I want to comfort her, take her back into my arms and tell her everything will be fine. A promise I can’t keep if I continue to be kept in the dark.
“Late to what?”
“Jaxson,” she whispers.
My eyebrows lift and my heart goes out to her. There’s so much pain in her tone, in her expression. Whoever this man is, it’s crystal clear she cares deeply about him.
“I thought you were safe. But somehow DiCapitano found out I was spying on him. He sent his men to find me . . . except they found you.”
I shake my head. “No, they didn’t.” Oh my God. Not unless Declan lied, and he is part of the mob.
“Holy fuck. It makes sense now. Declan killed them.”
“Those men at the Pitt? Yes, he did,” I say, then frown because I haven’t yet shared with her how Declan shoot up the Pitt parking lot . . .”
“Not them,” Kylie continues. “Franco’s mobsters, whose bodies I found outside our trailer.”
“What?” My throat hitches. “Bodies . . . when?”
“I thought to protect you from this . . . seems I’m not the only one . . .”
“Hold on. Declan killed Franco’s men outside our trailer? Why would he do such a thing?”
She stares hard at me like she’s never seen me before. “Good question.”
“So you work together?”
“We . . . did.” She rubs her fingers across her jaw. “Declan will go to any lengths to obey an order. He’s the worst of the worst. A lone wolf. A professional who prides himself on getting the job done. Using whatever means necessary. Thank fuck he’s not exactly your touchy-feely kind of guy.”
I think about how he rocked into me, gently, taking his time to ensure I was ready for him. Right. Ready for what is what I should have been thinking about.
“God, when he showed up in Dayton with you in tow, I nearly lost my mind. I was minutes away from stepping inside when you came out of his motel room. Alone. Bet he didn’t see that coming. But you did me a favor by escaping him. He’s one of the reasons we need to get going. Declan isn’t a guy you can get away with fucking over. I might be a lot of things. But know this: I love you, Madelyn. You’re the only person left who I care about. I’m sorry I couldn’t confide in you. So damn sorry you’ve been dragged into this mess. If he hurt you in any way, I’m going to shoot him in the balls.”
My eyes widen. Although Pop taught her how to use a gun, I can’t imagine my beautiful, loving sister shooting anyone. “He didn’t hurt me. A matter of fact . . . ” I pause and decide to share a bit more information with her, “he protected me. I called him to help me.”