Page 23 of The Fence Between Us

Declan put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Excuse you, sir. This is a game of princes.”

Rabble snorted, and Dash dealt him in anyway.

Three rounds later, Rabble was one hundred percent certain the guys invented the game, given the rules seemed to change depending on who was winning. With a groan, Rabble rubbed his temples, and Dash gave him a rare amused smile which quickly fell from his face at Declan’s phone ringing and vibrating on the side table. Its piercing siren ringtone penetrated the otherwise tranquil night, making Rabble cringe against the shrill noise. Rabble checked his watch 2:30 AM. That wasn’t good.

Declan’s brow furrowed as he swiped to answer. “It’s Bekah.”

That really wasn’t good.

Alarm bells rang in Rabble’s head, and he shifted forward into a half crouch on the edge of his chair. Dash mirrored Rabble’s move, his face a mask of calm.

While Declan pressed the speaker to his ear and listened intently, sounds of hysteria carried through the phone into the open air. The moment Declan pushed to his feet, Rabble and Dash were right behind him, their heavy boots pounding thewooden boards beneath them. Rabble said a short prayer of thanks they were still dressed and awake at the late hour.

Rabble’s truck keys were in his hand in an instant, the remote start starting the engine with a deep rumble. They scrambled for the truck, Rabble behind the wheel, Dash riding shotgun, and Declan practically throwing himself into the backseat while keeping Bekah on the phone. The truck tires spun before Declan slammed the backdoor shut.

Rabble desperately wanted to bombard Declan with questions and only rigorous training kept his mouth closed over gritted teeth. Based on Declan’s responses and the muffled bits of conversation Rabble heard, he worked out what he could. Every second that passed made Rabble’s heart beat faster, his blood nearly a fever-pitch in his veins. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, thoughts of Skye, of Elyza, and the others being in danger flooded his imagination. He could just see Skye’s face in his mind’s eye, desperate, pleading and he drove faster.

They arrived in the cottage district within a few minutes. Thank God for small towns like Shiloh Hills with minimal traffic stops, practically no one on the road, and no additional police presence to stop him from going twenty over the speed limit in a residential area. The only law enforcement in the entire town parked sideways on the street outside Bekah’s rental, firmly declaring the area restricted. The red and blue strobe lights flashed blindingly, leaving stars sparking behind their eyes.

A young officer stood guard at the front door, like a bulldog. He wasn’t the sheriff, but some other version of what passed for the law in the small town. Probably some temp sent from the county to assist the sheriff. Rabble would have admired the man’s dedication to his position had he not been standing between them and the women inside.

Declan’s signature smile slid into place as he tried to explain to the officer their relationship to the four women, that one was a client, one was their sister, and the other two were good friends. Surprisingly, it was Dash who grabbed Declan’s shoulder, restraining him, when the officer snorted and mumbled, “Great job keeping them secure.”

Rabble would have continued arguing had the officer not finally stepped aside and let them by. When they pushed through the doorway and into the living room, Rabble wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted them.

Granted, he needed more fingers than he had to count the number of times they’d seen worse. But the splintered and broken coffee table wasn’t what nearly broke him. It was the women perched on the edge of the living room sofa, each showing various stages of adrenaline dump, and the feeling of fear that drenched the air and soaked into his skin. It was Skye sitting in a kitchen chair, a jagged red and weeping cut descending from her hairline to just above her eyebrow. It was her wincing when the paramedic dabbed at the wound with an alcohol swab and the confusion in her beautiful cornflower eyes that overwhelmed and silenced him.

Declan moved inside with authority, methodically searching the rooms one at a time and giving the all clear while focusing not only on safety but also on anything that looked out of place. Dash, always keeping a level head, took one look at Rabble’s clenched jaw and proceeded with securing the information they needed from Bekah. His voice took on a surprisingly soothing tone, and he positioned himself in a way that made him seem as non-threatening as possible. What happened? Did anyone see anything? Was anything taken? On and on the questions went. Elyza seemed the most capable of answering and leveled her gaze at her brother, careful to keep her eyes on him andnot across the room where Skye’s head wound had yet to stop bleeding.

No one had seen the intruder’s face. Skye had been the only one downstairs at the time. Pure unadulterated rage bubbled beneath Rabble’s skin, slowly stamping out the fear that had taken up residence around his heart. He willed his eyes to move, away from Skye, to take in the room around them.

Declan returned from his full sweep of the cottage and sat on the arm of the couch, just to the right of Elyza, and directed discreet questions at her while Dash spoke with Bekah and Kellyn.

Beyond the coffee table, not much appeared out of place. The rug at the base of the hardwood stairs was peeled back at the corner, as if someone had tripped. That must have been where the intruder grabbed Skye and tossed her backward. The image of her slender body flying through the air like a rag doll and colliding with the low-lying table burned behind his eyes and threatened his rationality. He prowled to the conjoined kitchen and dining room, taking in every detail. Four wine glasses sat by the sink, the keys and mail intermingled in a bamboo bowl on the dining table. All untouched.

“He stood over there,” Skye’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.

Rabble followed her pointed finger to the corner of the dining room. “How’d you know it was a man?”

He wasn’t trying to be a jerk and hoped she could sense that. He just asked these questions all too frequently in his line of work.

“Tall. Strong. He grabbed me by the stairs and threw me across the room when I—I wanted to warn the others.”

She hugged her arms around herself, and Rabble hated the look of self-depreciation that crumpled her face. He read her like an open book. No doubt she blamed herself for her injuries. Hell,she probably blamed herself that the bastard got inside in the first place, even though neither of those was remotely her fault.

“Do you think it was her ex?” Giving up on normal speech altogether, Skye settled into a nearly imperceivable tone that resonated with her mental state.

Rabble took in her clouded eyes, the barely discernable wince, and ignored her question altogether. “Why aren’t you going to the hospital?”

“Because I’m fine. They said no concussion. Just a bump on the head.”

As she moved her fingers toward the gash, Rabble shook his head slightly and grasped her hand tenderly before she could prod at the fresh wound. He frowned, the butterfly bandages showed how fun getting that “bump on the head” had been. If nothing else, she’d likely have a righteous headache.

He guided Skye back into the living room, urging her to sit between Elyza and Kellyn while Bekah paced in the corner and wrung her hands together, anxiety surrounding her like a shroud. With the same smooth coaxing Dash had employed, Rabble led his client back to the couch, and the four women wore varying shades of the same emotions. Fear was prominent, along with anxiety and shock. Concern for Skye and Bekah eventually took over, along with a bit of curiosity regarding who and why. But the storm of wrath building among the women both surprised and pleased Rabble. That rage would carry them through the fear.

Chapter 14

Skye

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