Page 4 of Blood (A Killer’s Love #4)

CHAPTER FOUR

Kaleb

The front door swings open, and bright lights from the living room blind me for a second, but I don’t wait for my eyes to adjust. Instead, I just react.

Lunging forward through the entryway, I grab the man standing behind the sofa. His back hits my chest as I wrap my arm around his neck. I have him in a chokehold before he can even react.

Our bodies have a similar build, and he’s a little over six feet. We’re evenly matched on size, but I’m younger and running on pure adrenaline.

Screams ring out, piercing the quiet night. The blade of my knife touches his neck at the same time a woman shoots up into a sitting position on the sofa, her scream joining the others.

“Kaleb! Kaleb!” several voices scream, but only one stands out.

Blinking, I look around for my brother. The circles of light slowly leave my vision, giving me a clear image of my mother’s terrified face. My head snaps to the left. Dad! Shit.

Immediately releasing him, I step back, the knife dropping from my hand as if it burned me. Silently, it hits the rug.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I rush, watching my dad raise a trembling hand to his neck.

“Jesus Christ, son.” His voice shakes.

“Is anyone here?” I ask, looking around. “Were you attacked?”

Shelby drops back down, her hands clutching her chest as she lies there. Mom covers her face, her shoulders shaking.

“Are you okay?” I ask, looking between them until I settle on Samantha.

“No, dickhead. I just lost ten years. What’s the matter with you?” she demands, throwing her arms up. “Shelbs, you okay?”

A trembling hand pops up high enough for me to see it over the back of the sofa. A thumbs-up. “Lost a few years too, but I’m good.”

At least one of us is good.

I turn to my sister and ask, “What’s the matter with me?” I raise my voice. “What’s the matter with you?” I turn my attention to Dad. “You text me 911, and then no one answers their cell?”

“Is anyone injured?” Michael asks.

I look around for him again.

“He’s not here.” Dad huffs, walking away to comfort my mother. “He’s on the damn phone.” The cell lands with a thud as he tosses it onto the coffee table.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “If no one has been attacked or dying, why did you send me a 911?” I try to calm down, but my voice still quivers.

“Attacked or dying?” Dad asks, confused.

“That’s what 911 means,” I stress, throwing out my arm.

“Shit,” Michael spits. “Dad, tell me you didn’t just text him 911?” When no answer comes, Michael continues, “Oh my God, tell me you didn’t do something crazy to get home.”

My body sags as my adrenaline starts to wane. Reaching out, I hold the back of the sofa where Shelby lies. Opening my eyes, I huff a laugh when I see her cute round face smiling up at me.

“Broke a few speeding laws, might get a couple of tickets. Oh, and I almost slit our dad’s throat when I thought he was some madman holding my family hostage,” I say nonchalantly.

“Dad, are you okay?” Michael rushes.

“Fine, I’m fine. Got a few years scared out of me too, but I’m fine. Sorry, kiddo,” he adds, looking over at me. “In my defense, your brother told me to text you 911. That you’d know what it meant.”

I laugh. “It means life and death. To get home now.”

“Michael!” Dad admonishes. “He forgot to mention that.” He huffs, giving me a guilty look.

I breathe out a laugh. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, and I nearly murdered you. How about we call it even?”

He stares at me for a minute before shaking his head. “We’re not even.”

I watch as he pushes up off the armrest, and before I know it, he has me wrapped in a bear hug.

“What’s this for?” I whisper.

“For coming in here like you’re John Wayne trying to save this family.” Dad pulls back just enough to see my face, his hand wrapped around the nape of my neck. “Not many men would. I owe you for that.”

I blink quickly. “Anytime,” I promise.

“What’s happening?” Michael whispers.

“Dad and Kaleb are hugging. It’s gross,” Sam answers, earning a disapproving look from Mom.

“Didn’t John Wayne use guns?” Shelby asks. “If he came in like John Wayne, he’d have had guns,” she states confidently, nodding.

“More like John Wayne Gacy,” Sam quips.

“Hey!” Mom, Dad, and Michael admonish.

“That monster did more than kill people. That’s not funny, Samantha. Apologize to your brother. Now!” Mom demands.

Stunned silence fills the room. A Helen Cromwell outburst never happens because the woman is a saint. Literally, she puts up with my brothers and me.

“I’m sorry,” Samantha whispers, her eyes focused on me. “Really. It was a joke. You’re not an animal.”

She means it; I can tell. I give her a small smile to let her know we’re okay. If only she knew how many people I’ve killed over the years.

“You do eat like one, though.” She smirks.

There’s my girl.

“Samantha!” Dad admonishes again.

Grinning, I wink.

“As long as I don’t look like one.”

“Nuh-uh.” Shelby shakes her head. “Too handsome.”

“Thank you, Shelby,” I say sweetly, turning to her.

She shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s true.”

“He knows.”

I grin at Sam’s dry tone and raise my hand over the sofa for a high five from Shelby, my gaze never leaving Samantha, not until I feel cotton on my palm.

What the fuck?

A laugh bursts out of me, taking the last of my unease when I look down to see Shelby has lifted her foot to high-five my hand.

“I’m not sitting up.” She shrugs.

I wrap my hand around her foot before she can pull back and give it a little shake.

“So what was this nonemergency, emergency?” I ask, turning to my dad with a raised brow.

“I need you to watch your sister and Shelby for a few days.”

My brows pull into a deep frown. “Last I checked, Samantha was a grown woman.” I make a big deal of looking over at her. “Yep, still grown.”

My mom tuts and then stands before making her way to three duffel bags sitting by the stairs.

“Is there a threat I don’t know about?” I ask my dad. Before he can answer, I look back at Samantha. “Are you okay?”

Sam nods, saying nothing. That alone sets an internal alarm off.

What the fuck am I missing?

“There have been a few burglaries in town over the past week,” Dad mutters distractedly as he takes six Tupperware containers and puts them into a cooler bag while Mom goes back to the fridge for more.

“Okay,” I sigh, stretching out the word.

“So I need you to babysit,” he says like it’s obvious.

“And where the fuck are you going?”

“Kaleb!” I close my eyes at my mother’s admonishment and pinch the bridge of my nose. I open my mouth but quickly close it.

I need another minute.

By the time I open my eyes, I’m leaning on the back of the sofa again. Samantha smirks at me. She’s witnessed me praying for patience enough times that she recognizes the look on my face. I raise a brow.

You can chip in at any time.

Her smirk turns to a toothy smile while she gives me a cute shrug.

I pout my lips to stop my own smile. One deep breath, two. By the fourth, my body starts to relax.

“Of course, I will babysit Samantha and Shelby,” I state, stressing the word babysit. Seeing Sam’s smile drop makes my own lips tip up. There’s no fighting it. My smile wins. Seeing that scowl makes me happy . . . and hard.

Clearing my throat, I push off the sofa. “But why do I need to?”

“Because there’s a robber in town, and we can’t leave the girls alone to defend themselves. Not that anything is going to happen,” he rushes to add.

“I know . . .” I take another deep breath. “Mother!” I call into the kitchen. “Where are you and Dad going?”

“To Charlie,” she pants, rushing back to my dad for the fourth time.

How much food are they packing?

Her words take a minute to register. Charlie? Why would they rush to see my sister-in-law in the middle of the night?

Surprise covers my face.

“The baby?” I ask excitedly.

“The baby,” Mom beams.

My excitement quickly drops. “911.”

“No, no,” Dad rushes, holding his hand out toward me as if he can stop my racing heart.

“Charlie was feeling lower back pain, more than normal, so she went in for a checkup, and they wanted her to go straight to the hospital. The baby is okay so far, but they need to deliver soon, so she’s being prepped for a C-section.

Michael and I were watching Belle, so we met them at the hospital.

Your mom and dad are coming to help with Belle and to meet the baby. ” Lara’s voice comes through the phone.

Finally, someone who will tell me what’s happening. But where’s her husband?

“Where’s Michael?” I ask aloud.

“He’s gone down into surgery. I tell you, Charlie is a better woman than me. Letting her husband’s brother be so involved . . . there’s no way Daniel will be there when I give birth.”

My mom sucks in a loud breath, her head whipping around to look at where the cell sits on the coffee table.

Lara must have heard Mom’s gasp. “Later, in the future, many, many years in the future. Definitely not right now.”

My heart squeezes at her words. I know how much Michael wants a baby. The sooner, the better, but his wife’s wants and needs come first. When she’s ready, they’ll make it happen.

“Why did you take Belle with you?”

“I panicked.” She chuckles. “Michael was . . . well, I don’t want to use the word hysterical, but . . .”

Our chuckles mix with hers.

“I couldn’t let him drive like that, and it was just safer all around if I came too. Michael wasn’t waiting long enough to do a drop-off, so baby girl came with us, and we’ve been chilling ever since.”

“Well, we’re packed up and ready to go. We’ll be with you soon, baby,” Mom tells Lara.

“Great. Do you want to end the call?” Lara asks.

“No, no,” Mom rushes before pausing. “Unless you want to?”

“No, no.” I can hear Lara smile. “How about you guys play some music in the car ride, though, to keep me awake?”

“Of course!” Mom promises.

“I think we have one of Belle’s CDs in the car,” Dad adds.

Sam and I manage to smother our laughs, but Shelby’s giggle rings out loud and clear.

“What?” he asks, clueless.