DEACON
Staring down at her, despite everything that had happened, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was one of the luckiest guys on the planet. Sure, I'd lost the Brothers in this whole mess, but given what I knew now, I was probably better off for it. I thought they'd have my back through thick and thin, but come to find out, they'd deceived me. They'd lied to me. They'd tried to kill me.
And one day, I'd have my revenge for that. For now though, I had Emelia. And that was more than enough.
I stroked a strand of her hair from her face as she slept peacefully, curled up beside me. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Living in hotels like this, living on the run – it was no life for her and it was no way to raise a child. I needed to figure something out, find somewhere we could go, somewhere we could stay and be safe. And I needed to figure it all out quick.
But for now, I needed to take care of my sleeping beauty. I needed to make sure that she was okay. That she was safe. And that meant making sure she had food and everything else she could possibly need or want. I wanted to give her everything. Wanted to make sure she knew she was loved and to treat her like the queen she was.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it had been a little while since we'd last eaten and I remembered the diner attached to the hotel. I figured that I could run down there, pick up some pancakes and orange juice and be back before she woke up for the second time that morning. I could serve her breakfast in bed – which I thought would be the second-best way to start the day.
Not wanting to wake her, I carefully pulled myself out from underneath her. Despite my jostling – even as careful as I tried to be – she thankfully continued to sleep soundly. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and hurried to get dressed, making sure to place a gun next to her on the table – just in case. With those pricks out there, I wasn't going to take any chances.
And, as I'd witnessed that night in the car, my Emmy wasn't like other women out there. She knew how to take care of herself, and that included using a gun. She'd earned my respect and I trusted that she could defend herself, if the chips were down and she needed to. I gently kissed her on the cheek and made sure to grab a gun of my own – again, just in case – before shutting the door and making sure it locked behind me.
The diner – The Golden Pancake House – wasn't likely to have amazing food. I could tell just by looking at the cracked, fading sign, and the cheap dime store decorations. That and the fact that it was attached to a cheap hotel and all, more or less guaranteed the food would be substandard. But it would do. I didn't want to go too far, not without Emelia by my side.
I figured we'd head out once she woke up and then decided what our next destination was going to be. We'd talked about heading south, into Mexico and maybe even down as far as South America. But we didn't have anything set in stone yet. We had no firm plans and everything was on the table.
“Good morning,” the waitress said as soon as I walked into the diner. “Seating for one?”
“Uhh no, I'm taking it to go. My – my girlfriend,” it sounded so strange to say that, and honestly, I wasn't sure if I should even be calling her that, “is still sleeping. I wanted to surprise her with breakfast in bed.”
“Of course,” she said and smiled as she pulled out a menu. “Just let me know what you'd like and we'll get that right up for ya.”
Honestly, I had no idea what Emelia liked. I was still so new to this – and new to her – that I didn't know if she preferred pancakes over waffles or if she was more of a French toast sort of girl. Not to mention that I had zero clue whether she liked bacon or sausage – or neither. Normally, I might not care, but for some reason, with Emelia, I cared. I cared a lot and wanted to make this right. She mattered to me, which meant that even the smallest little detail like bacon or sausage mattered to me. As crazy as that was to think, let alone say.
As I stared down at the menu, the sound of a gunshot ripped through the morning air outside. My head spun around and I stared out the glass windows with my stomach up in my throat. My heart was pounding and adrenaline rushed through me as I stood up from the stood. I couldn't see our room from where I was, which only made me more nervous. I dropped the menu and rushed outside to see what had happened – as did the waitress and several others.
“What's going on?” she asked. “What was that? Was that a gunshot?”
I didn't have the time or inclination to answer. All I knew was that I had to get to Emelia. As I rounded the corner heading toward our room, my heart was racing and the knot in my stomach constricted painfully. I was already fearing the worst.
And I was right to be.
I watched as a black sedan pulled out of the parking lot in a squeal of tires and plumes of smoke as it sped down the road. An animalistic growl escaped my throat as I stepped into our room. The door was wide open – and judging by the shattered wood, it had been kicked open – and as I entered, I saw the signs of a vicious struggle. Tables turned over, lamps knocked to the ground, bedsheets ripped from the beds – she had put up one hell of a fight.
But Emelia was nowhere to be found.
The gun had been used – hence, the shot we'd heard – but apparently it had been too late when she'd fired the shot since the weapon was on the floor beside the bed. I turned and saw that there was a hole in the door – she'd taken a shot but had missed someone who'd been standing there. But she'd tried. Oh God, she'd tried.
Which meant, she'd been taken against her will – as if the destroyed hotel room weren't proof of that enough. Whether it was her father or someone else though, I didn't know. All I knew was that no one had a right to take her like this.
No one.
My eyes narrowed and I felt my gut churning. There was a deep well of rage bubbling up within me. I was going to get Emelia back. And I was going to make somebody pay for taking her in the first place.
As I stood in the wrecked hotel room, feeling like I'd been kicked in the nuts, I made that vow to myself. Somebody was going to bleed for what they'd done. And they were going to bleed badly.