Page 60 of Unloaded
I fight tooth and nail not to cry while absorbing strength from her concern, but it’s a losing battle. Just hearing his name has my eyes watering. It’d be so easy to let go with my chosen sister, but I can’t. I won’t. This beautiful fantasy we’ve been living in is over. It’s past time to move on.
“Hey, Marley,” I reply, pulling away from her and stepping back. It hurts putting distance between myself and the womanwho’s been so good to me. “I’m fine. It was crazy there for a bit, but the team took care of everything.”
“Where are the boys?” Marley looks past me, expectantly, to the SUV.
“They were at Jason’s,” I say, managing to keep my voice steady. “His place was hit, too, and the boys were taken.” It hits me that I never got updated about what happened. I don’t even know if Jason is alive. My eyes fly to Dalton’s, who is standing next to me.
“Jason has some minor injuries, but he’s fine,” Dalton informs us, turning to Marley. “He’ll be over later, and we’ll make a plan to get the boys back. Kelvin is working on tracking the vehicle they left in.”
I can’t talk or think about it. If I do, I’m going to break down in hysterics which can’t happen, right now. The boys need me. That’s the only thing I can focus on. Getting them back as soon as possible.
“What happened to your hands?” Marley askes staring at them. I’d mostly forgotten about my poor hands. The neat bandage Rosco had applied to my burn is dirty and coming loose. My right hand is oozing blood from the cut where the glass had gotten me. I don’t know where or when I lost the kitchen towel he’d wrapped around it.
“It’s been a shit day,” I say with a shrug, not really answering her question. She gives me a hard look. Then she leads me into the house and sets me down at the dining room table. Dalton appears with a first-aid kit in hand. He and Marley gang up on me, each taking a hand to clean my injuries.
I sit stoically while they work. At first, Marley attempts to ask me questions about what went down, but I don’t answer. She glances up at me with a worried expression. I still don’t respond, and she turns her worried gaze to Dalton. He just shakes his head and focuses on his task.
I don’t want to answer her questions. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do anything but find my brothers. It is all I can do to stay seated while they treat my injuries.
When my wounds have been cleaned, Marley guides me upstairs to a guest room to shower and change. My reflection in the dresser mirror catches my attention. I look like a hot mess after a night of glorious sex followed by a near death experience.
God!Has it really been less than twenty-four hours since Rosco took me to bed? Has it even been twelve? It seems like a lifetime and only seconds at the same time.
Losing my clothes, I step under the warm spray of water. The moment the water hits me, the dam breaks. I fall to my knees and sob like my heart is breaking, because it is…it has. All the fear I’ve been holding onto for my brothers releases, and then the weight of what Rosco and I could’ve been hits me.
I love him, no doubt about it, and I believe he feels the same. But he isn’t going to allow himself to love me back. I need to accept it and move on, knowing full well I’ll never be able to. Trying to argue or fight with him about it is only going to hurt us both, and I know that man has suffered enough. I can see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down.
I take much longer than truly needed to just wash my body, but I’m trying to cleanse my heart, too, and she’s being a stubborn bitch today. Seems she doesn’t want to be cleansed. She’d rather wallow in the pain and misery of Rosco’s rejection.
Well, too bad, sister. Suck it up, buttercup! We have two young boys depending on us. We have the Italian mafia to take down, no time for wallowing.
Nicky and Ricky are depending on and need me to be strong, to find them and set them free. After about fifteen minutes of self-pity, I pull myself together and begin to wash my hair, while rebuilding the walls around my heart. I’d let the Robertson’s tear them down, but it’s reconstruction day.
It’s not going to be easy, there’s a lot of debris and rubble, but I’ve never been a quitter. With the exception of Rosco. I won’t fight for him, because I know it’s a lost cause. I have more important things to consider. My brothers and how to get and keep them safe for starters.
When I’m fully dressed again, I head downstairs to find, Dalton, Jason, and Matthew are in the dining room along with Luke.
“How are you?” Luke asks when he sees me hovering at the entrance to the dining room.
“I’m fine,” I reply with my usual answer. He gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push for more.
“Are you all right, Jason?” I ask before launching into the questions I really want to ask him. Like, ‘how did you let this happen?’ Or ‘what do you know? Where are they? Help me find them!’
“I’m okay, Rachel, thanks for asking,” Jason replies. “I’m so damn sorry. It’s all my fault. I promised you they’d be safe, but they were on us before we knew what was happening.” I nod, because what else can I do? Jason can’t change what happened. None of us can. All we can do now is focus on getting them back.
“It’s not your fault, Jason,” Luke declares. “They’re as well trained as we are in some regards. Kelvin is still looking into it, but they had a way of disarming our security system without triggering the secondary alarms we have installed. None of us were prepared for that.”
Leave it to my stepfather to have the latest and greatest technology.How in the hell am I going to get them back? Especially on my own?
I sigh, knowing what I need to do but also knowing these men and Marley are going to try to talk me out of it. They can try all they want, but they can’t. I won’t let them. Nicky’s and Ricky’s lives are too important.
“Did you guys bring my van?” Matthew nods while digging my keys out of his pocket. He hands them to me. “Thanks.” I pocket the keys in my jeans.
“You don’t need your van, Rachel,” Luke says in a tone I’ve never heard him use on me before. It’s the tone he uses when they are discussing a case that’s going sideways. I don’t comment. It won’t do any good to argue. I’ll just need to be patient and sneak out when the time is right.
“Let me dress your hands, first,” Dalton says from right next to me, which startles me. I didn’t know he’d gotten so close.
Our eyes meet, and I just know he knows my plan to leave. I study him a beat. He won’t stop me, even if he thinks I’m wrong. I appreciate that. Nodding, I take a seat while he gets to work wrapping my hands.
