Page 12 of One Hellion of a Christmas

“Yes,” she whispered, as if she knew the answer would break me, but she wouldn’t lie to me.

“They are my favorite shoes. Were. Theyweremy favorite.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with sincerity, her blue eyes darkening with remorse.

A deep gorge opened in the center of my chest, memories crumbling off the sides. Washed away. Gone. Forever. They were only shoes, damn it. But the last part of me that had held on to the love I still felt for Pop-Pop and Nana—for Maddie… That had held on to the hope that maybe one day we could all be a family again…

None of that was possible now. It never had been. Not after all the years that they had left my hurt to fester.

Sobbing, I hugged Sammy crushingly tight to me with the last of my strength. Heartbreak and loss were tearing me apart, but not for the right reasons.

I’d just killed a man. I’d kicked him so hard, countless times, that I had squishy brain matter on the soles of my shoes. And I couldn’t bring myself to care that I’d taken someone’s life.

Yet my heart was broken over the loss of a pair of shoes.

It wouldn’t make sense to anyone normal. But thankfully, Sammy was beyond such mundane bullshit as normalcy. She hugged me back, murmuring promises that I never questioned whether she would keep. She held me together until I felt three pairs of arms surrounding me, and then she melted back into the shadows while Ky, Sparks, and Jamie wrapped me back up in our bubble that was just for us.

They were all breathing heavily, their entire bodies trembling against mine so forcefully that it felt like my bones rattled. Or maybe that was just me. I honestly couldn’t tell.

Sparks and Ky carefully checked my face. Those chocolate browns had darkened with his wrath and fear as they searched mine. Ky’s storm-cloud gray eyes bobbed over my hair, forehead, nose, cheeks, lips. Every injury he and Sparks saw only accelerated their breathing, that trembling turning into the warning of what my three men would do to protect me.

Not that I wasn’t at fault.

I should have told them about the suspected stalker.

Jamie brushed his hands carefully down my arms before he got to my wrists. My fingertips still tingled from the lack of blood flow, but I had deep grooves across the skin of my wrists. Holy fuck. I hadn’t realized that the cable ties were so tight.

But then again, I had been struggling against the restraints pretty forcefully. No wonder my skin was a bruised mess.

Sparks swallowed hard, never once taking his eyes off me. I was glad for that, because I didn’t want him to see the crushed-in face of his dad on the floor a few feet away. With his pinkie, he brushed a few curls back from my face.

His voice was laced with torment, his eyes glistening with tears. “I’m so sorry, goddess.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

ky

Between Sparks’swhispered prayers and Jamie’s pacing, it might have appeared to any outsider that I was the calmer Carver. But I was so far past calm, my next stop was going to be the psych ward if the fucking doctor didn’t give us some news about Hayat soon.

My mind hadn’t stopped whirling since Samara had told us about Abi’s call. I never should have let Havoc go off on her own. She’d been kind of out of it recently. I wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Shane had mentioned it a couple times while he and I were remixing a few tracks for the new album. Even Poppy had been concerned, commenting on how absent-minded our hellion was.

Jesse Thornton insisted we all call Poppy, and because it made Hayat happy, we did.

Jamie and Sparks had both shrugged it off, saying we were all exhausted after the hectic pace of our first headlining tour, followed by weeks in the studio. When we got lost laying down new tracks, some days lasted more than eighteen hours of nonstop recording, adjusting, more recording. Until each song was perfect and our new album told the story we wanted our fans to experience with us.

We were definitely all tired. This break was long overdue. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with Hayat. She’d been quiet lately. As Poppy had said, absent-minded. Which was dangerous when it came to Hellion.

Getting lost in her own thoughts usually meant she was plotting trouble. And normally, we were all up for her kind of mischief. But there had been moments when I’d thought I’d seen something in her eyes that left me holding my breath, waiting for her to voice whatever was on her mind.

She hadn’t, and I’d left it alone, not wanting to push her. Hoping that by now she understood there was nothing she could say or do that would change our relationship. That girl was ours, and I’d walk through hell to keep her.

Which was exactly what we’d done when we’d found out Sancho had taken Hayat.

But even though the bastard was dead, there was unfinished business between us and the PCC. Miguel was stupid if he didn’t realize we’d figured out he’d used Hayat to get rid of his father so he could take over the cartel. Sparks and his brother were overdue for a family reunion. Miguel just didn’t know it would be their last.

Shaking away thoughts of the Guerrero family, I kept my eyes locked on the hospital room door. Abi and Samara were inside with Havoc and the doctor, who was doing some kind of exam that was too private for us to be present for.

What the fuck did that mean?

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