Page 93 of Kylo
“I have Ernest in here with me,” I told him. “He can’t come out with the glass everywhere.”
My voice was weirdly calm even as my insides scrambled around.
“Okay. Point me in the direction of a broom and dustpan.”
“There’s a rack right outside behind the door to the garage.”
“Okay. Hold tight. Give me one minute.”
Ernest grumbled, poking me with his cold, wet nose.
“Just another minute, buddy,” I cooed at him as I heard a strange, loud, rumbling sound move closer and closer.
It wasn’t until the sound suddenly cut off and there was an uncomfortable silence that had my ears ringing that I realized what it was.
Motorcycles.
A lot of them.
I sucked in a shaky breath, realizing I was going to be okay. Even if Marco or his men were still around somewhere, the bikers were here. With, I imagined, their guns.
It was over.
I could hear the rumble of male voices, and then Kylo was back in my bedroom with Velle on his heels.
“How you doing, sweetheart?” Velle asked, moving toward the side of the closet, his posture casual, but I could see how tight his jaw was.
“Alive,” I said.
“We can work with alive,” he said, offering me a smile as the swish of shards of glass moved across the floor and into the dustpan.
Kylo was rushing but trying to be thorough.
“How’d you get your dog in there with you?” Velle asked, sensing that distraction was what I needed so I didn’t start freaking out now that I was safe.
“I had pepperoni pizza in my hand,” I admitted. “I tossed it in.”
“That’ll do it,” Velle said. “Are you hurt?”
“I… no. No, I’m okay. I heard their shoes crunching on the gravel and I just… ran.”
“Good instincts. I want to mentally prepare you,” he said, wincing a bit.
“They trashed my house.”
“They did. And it wasn’t like they were just tossing it to look for hiding spaces. They were just… assholes.”
“I figured,” I agreed. “After what they did to my shop.”
“Okay. I think I got it all, but I’m going to lay down the comforter from your bed so we can coax Ernest out,” Kylo explained. “Then Velle can pick him up and carry him outside.”
I was going to ask why he couldn’t pick up Ernest, but at the sound of his name, Ernest pushed at me from behind.
So the second the comforter was down, I crawled out, then moved aside to let Ernest do the same.
Ernest was quick.
Velle was faster.
