Page 74 of Power Twist

Silky strands of my dark hair slide through my fingers. Tugging on the ends, I use the sharp bite of pain to ground me to the present.

I'm in such deep shit, and not only with Randi. Just being at the estate causes the cold, malicious feelings to surface; how will I survive diving back into that world full time? Randi saved me once from the jaded, bitter cavern I’d settled into, and she's the only one who can keep me from sinking back. The question is, after I tell her everything, lay it all on the line, will she want to?

The wooden railing presses into my palms, supporting my heavy weight as I lean against it, head drooped forward. Digging my nails into the wood, I tighten my grip, the muscles of my arms and back flexing. Pain radiates from the center of my chest, causing my breath to catch.

Behind me the back door opens, the door's hinges whining. Two sets of distinct footsteps parade out onto the wraparound porch, one soft, barely audible, while the other is heavy, purposeful. Not moving, I take a deep breath and wince at the blooming ache. Hell, being shot sucks. Even with the vest it fucking hurts. Without the vest, I'd be dead, so I can't really complain, but still, hurting with every breath isn't my idea of something to celebrate.

To my right, the wicker rocking chair creaks with the weight of someone settling into it. Neither has said a word, waiting for me to collect my thoughts, I suppose. But where do I start? Everything seems fuzzy with the exhaustion and the handful of Advil I took before heading up to Randi's room.

“What do you want to know first?” I ask, still staring at the wooden planks of the porch.

The wicker creaks, the legs rocking backward and then forward once again. At their lack of response, I glance over my shoulder, making sure they’re still there. Tank leans against the house just behind where Randi sits, rocking. Neither is looking at me; both have their gazes locked on the vast backyard. I scan the area, searching for whatever they see but coming up empty.

“Tonight,” Randi eventually says in a tone that tells of her own exhaustion.

Guilt eats at my gut, forcing my attention off her and back to the decking.

“Part of what you didn't want to know back in Chile is why tonight happened,” Tank answers for me. A sliver of the tension eases from my shoulders as he takes the lead. “Based on the information inside, we believe Whit is the one responsible for the tracking of Taeler and you. However, along with that information, there were new details that were specifically about you. And not with the sole intent of gathering intel but for a deadlier outcome.”

The slow rocking stills. Again the thin wooden rods creak as she shifts her weight.

“It’s Birmingham. He wants you dead,” I say, making what T so carefully beat around the bush blatantly obvious. She needs to know she’s in danger. Her role comes with it, but never has a VP had to also be on their guard against internal threats as well.

“Oh.”

At her simple response, I push off the railing and lean back against a supporting wooden post. Knees against her chest, chin on her knees, she looks young, innocent, vulnerable. Every muscle twitches, eager to wrap her up in my arms, to ease the thoughts racing through her head.

“I'm not surprised,” she says moments later.

I shoot a concerned look at Tank. “What do you mean, you're not surprised?”

The soft skin of her cheek molds around her knee as she tilts her head to focus on me.

“He was really pissed I went to Chile, to the OPEC summit, when he specifically told me not to. He said I'd regret it, but I have to admit, wanting me dead is a little extreme even for Kyle.” She huffs and presses her forehead against her thighs. “Is there anyone in this town who doesn't want me gone or dead?” Deafening silence fills the porch. “That's not a rhetorical question,” she adds.

“We don't,” Tank says, stepping forward. Wrapping his big hands around the top of the rocker, he gives it a small shake, causing her head to snap up. “Tonight you were set up.”

She snorts. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Tank glares down at her. “Smartass. You were the only target. The only other injuries on the team were minor, except Benson’s, which would’ve been fatal if he didn’t have his vest on. And his was due to him blocking the bullet that was intended for you.”

Her head whips around. I hold her intense stare, allowing her time to process Tank's words.

“I’d do it again, Mess,” I say, not looking away from her wide eyes.

“Those bastards could've taken us all out, but they didn't. We were fish in a barrel out there.”

All the blood drains from her face. Trembling fingers wrap around her neck before sliding down to press against her chest. She sways in the chair. Lunging forward, I grip her shoulder, keeping her upright. I hiss in pain at the quick movement pulling my aching chest muscles. Tank tugs her feet from the seat and straightens them out, allowing the blood to flow easily in an attempt to keep her from passing out on us.

“Randi,” I demand. Tank's words from weeks ago filter in. “Stop.”

Hardening my gaze, I give her shoulder a quick shake. I will not be her downfall. I will not baby her and make her weak. She's stronger than this, stronger than I give her credit for, and it's time I remember that. If I love her, I'll stop being the person who coddles her, who weakens her inner strength. No, I'll be the one who pushes her, makes her stronger, reminds her of how strong she really is.

“Tonight happened, and we'll be better prepared next time.” I flick my gaze up to Tank. With a nod, I step back. Sliding my hands off her takes more effort than ever before.

“And to be prepared,” he says, his voice hard, “we need to know everything. Every strange phone call, every battle with Birmingham or Whit. Everything, you hear me?”

Pinkie nail between her teeth, she nods. “Okay, I just didn't realize….” She shakes her head. “That fucker. I hope he dies a slow death.” She purses her lips, a determined look flashing across her features. “I will not let him win. Trying to off me because I didn't follow one of his requests is utter bullshit. Who does he think he is?”

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