Page 35 of Wicked Heiress

“Almost there.” Rhys’s strong arms tightened around me. “Sonny’s waiting for us.”

A black Range Rover with dark-tinted windows was parked at the curb.

Sonny rolled down the window. “Hurry, I spotted more Bratva on my way here.”

I climbed into the backseat with Rhys and Cole, who took a handgun from Sonny.

“Vanderbilt,” Sonny said as he drove down the street. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here. I thought you left for California.”

“Nope.” Rhys patted Sonny’s headrest. “I’m staying with Marshall for a while.”

Sonny looked into the rearview mirror at me, shoving his fingers through his short, blond hair. “Nice to finally meet you, Grace.” He reached his hand into the backseat for me to shake. “Sorry, it’s under such shitty circumstances.”

“That’s my life,” I deadpanned and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sonny.”

Sonny was classically handsome and clean-cut, like the blond version of Rhys but with less muscle. Even from where I sat, I could still see the definition in his biceps as he clutched the steering wheel. All of The Knights had a polished look that screamed money. Even Cole’s usual cargo shorts and tight T-shirts looked expensive, the fabric a much higher thread count than anything I wore before arriving at Fort Marshall.

The hot blond in the passenger seat turned to look at me and gave me an award-winning smile. He looked like a young Ryan Phillipe but with tons of black tattoos on his arms. “I’m Aiden.” He smiled so wide it reached his blue eyes. “Nice to meet you, Grace. My sister has told me a lot about you.”

“Who’s your sister?”

“Alex Wellington.”

Our conversation ended with Sonny speeding past the harbor, headed toward the residential part of Beacon Bay. He took turns checking the mirrors. I turned my head to see what had gotten his attention. Two men in a black car peeled down the street.

“Motherfuckers,” Sonny cursed. “Get ready, Cole. If they get too close, take out their tires.”

I clung to Rhys’s side and put my head on his chest. “I don’t want to go back to him.”

My father.

The terrorist.

“Keep your head down until I tell you it’s safe.” Rhys pushed on my head, and I lay on his lap. He slipped his fingers through my hair to calm me. “It will be over soon, princess. Close your eyes and think of your favorite song. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh-huh.”

Cole leaned out the back window and fired a bullet at their tire.

“Sing for me,” Rhys said in a calming tone.

I couldn’t hold a tune, nor could my adoptive father, so I hummed a song he sang for me when I moved in with him. “Let It Be” by The Beetles helped soothe me at night, especially after another nightmare of the past. Flashbacks of my former life.

As Cole fired his gun, I hummed even louder. The Colonel had taught me how to shoot, but the sound never bothered me.

Not until now.

It felt like the SUV was about to tip over when Sonny overshot the turn, the tires screeching. And with Cole dangling out the window, I tried not to look or think about those men hurting him. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to him because of me.

A bullet sank into the bumper.

I screamed.

“You’re okay, Grace,” Cole said with his head partially out the window. “Keep singing for us. We’ll be home soon.”

“Listen to Marshall, princess.” Rhys stroked his long fingers down my arm. “Don’t stop singing until I tell you.”

I started at the song’s beginning, humming the familiar tune. My dad loved that song, and it just so happened to calm me down whenever I had a panic attack.

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