and try to calm down. Then go see Dane. Just ⦠not like this. Shit, youâre all ghostly and traumatized.â
âEverything was going so well, working out the way it should. All this time and effort Dane has put into helping the FBI yielded results. And then, bam ! Wayne Horton strikes back? Or Bryn Hilliard? That menace to the human race should be sweating bullets over his criminal indictment, not devising ways to send one through my skull.â
Kyle actually blanched. Not exactly a familiar expression for my steadfast friend. The flash of white against his tanned skin was a bit unnerving. âYou canât imagine what it was like to see that infrared dot on your forehead.â He had to glance away and drag a hand down his face. It took several seconds for his gaze to return. âAri, it scared the shit out of me.â
âI was scared, too. For all of us.â
âDamn it!â His torment ate at me. âI know thereâs no fucking point to venting, no sanity wrapped around it, but, Christ. Everything thatâs happened so far has been complete bullshit and Iâm mad as hell. What we just went throughââ
He whirled around. Stalked away. Then he pulled up short at the kitchen table where the trail of blood from the island had led to the chairs and pooled at the legs. All cleaned up now, but the memory didnât fade. My stomach roiled and more fat drops welled in my eyes.
Kyle spun back to face me. âI canât leave, even though I know I should. What purpose is there to staying? Sure, maybe I can protect you, too. Then again, maybe not. Iâm not two steps ahead of everything the way Dane and Amano are. Iâm reacting as the shit hits the fan, not before itâs even been flung.â
âDonât gross me out,â I complained. âAll that blood made me queasy as it is.â
He closed the gap between us. Kyle stared into my eyes, the way he had the night before, when I was all worked up over the diamondbacks. Only this time there was more than his perpetually tortured soul reflected in his blue irises.
âDaneâs right,â Kyle told me. âThis is getting worse. And youâre stuck in the middle of it all. I just want to take you away from it, Ari. I want to put you in a carâif I could just get my fucking Rubicon back from the creek houseâand drive you far, far away.â
My heart wrenched. âKyle.â
âI love you, Ari.â The torment deepened. âBut what the hell good does that do? What does it mean?â He stepped away once more, though I still felt his fury. âNot a goddamn thing.â
He turned and stormed off. The breath rushed from my lungs. My heart constricted. And more tears fell.
I loathed being the source of his agony. But it seemed inescapable.
How had one chance encounter between Dane, Kyle, myself, and a snake-tatted blond at a wedding nearly a year ago turned so twisted and mangled? So hazardous and painful?
If we survived this cyclone of evil, it certainly wouldnât be unscathed. Physically or emotionally.
Not for any of us.
Â
chapter 3
I did as Kyle had suggested and composed myself before visiting Dane, upon Dr. Forresterâs approval.
I entered the bedroom but halted just beyond the threshold when I got a good look at Dane, propped up against a mound of pillows, his left biceps and shoulder wrapped in white gauze and tape, his arm in a sling. He was much paler than usual. About as ticked off as I was used to seeing him. Still, I fought the gape.
âYou look like hell,â I said, trying to keep my tone even.
âWell, I did just get shot,â he deadpanned. âAnd Iâve still got a mind to make Tom suffer more than a concussion.â
âI suspect that worrying about imminent imprisonment and the safety of his wife and daughter will be excruciating enough. Any word on them from the FBI?â
âNo. And thatâs not my