Page 23 of Faded Rhythm

Sable

The sun is still rising when we slip out of the hotel room. The hallway is empty, the kind of quiet that makes every sound feel suspicious. Even the click of the door behind us sounds like a gunshot. I swallow hard as we go down the hallway.

Julian moves ahead of me, his body tense, steps measured. One hand hovers near his gun, the other extended behind him like a barrier meant to keep me back.

Every few feet, he pauses to scan around us—doors, corners, shadows.

I don’t speak. I feel like I’m barely breathing. I just follow as my heart rattles like a loose screw in my chest.

We pass the elevators and enter the side stairwell. We descend fast and silent. When we finally emerge into the parking lot, I see Julian’s eyes lock on a black SUV tucked beneath a flickering streetlight.

“When did you rent a car?” I whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he approaches the car, then motions for me to stop. He pulls a small, sleek wand from inside of his jacket and slowly waves it over the vehicle, from the wheel wells to the bumpers and across the trunk and hood.

“I didn’t,” he finally answers. “My contact dropped it off an hour ago.”

“What is that thing?” I ask.

His eyes scan the area. “Testing for tracking devices. Explosives. Shit like that.”

My stomach drops.

I’m shaking now, terrified at the thought of being blown to pieces.

An icy realization sinks into my bones as Julian opens the passenger door for me; I’ve been pretending we were safe.

It was easy to feel comfortable holed up in hotel rooms, wrapped up in each other.

Letting myself feel something for a man again. But I let myself forget.

Brett is still out there. Still gunning for me. And maybe my girls.

I put a hand over my mouth as Julian moves quickly around the front of the car. He gets in and stares at me, noticing my distress immediately.

“I told you. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says. His voice is low, rough, and genuine.

I nod, but I can’t speak. My throat’s too tight.

We’re off, heading through winding roads as dawn creeps up the edge of the sky. I swallow down a sob as I think about my daughters, imagining the worst, terrified of what I’ll find when I reach them. Julian puts a hand on my thigh, but it does nothing to calm me.

Finally, we reach the guard gate of Ebony’s subdivision.

The guard nods at me, then calls my sister.

He knows me, but he doesn’t know Julian, and I’m relieved that he’s taking the precaution.

He hangs up, then buzzes us through. Just moving past the gate gives me a brief respite from the terror coursing through my veins.

We pull up to the house, and I’m so eager, I open the door before Julian pulls to a stop.

“Wait,” he urges as he kills the engine. “I’m walking you to the door.”

I nod. I want him close.

We step up to the porch together. He stands a few inches behind me, watching. Protecting.

When Ebony opens the door, her brows damn near touch her hairline.

“This must be my long-lost cousin,” she teases.

I roll my eyes and pull her into a tight hug. The warmth of her arms around me, and the calmness of her demeanor soothes me instantly. My girls are okay. I’m okay.

Then, there’s chaos. The good kind.

The girls come barreling toward us, their pajamas wrinkled and their bonnets askew. Henry is on their heels, barking and jumping.

I turn to receive them, but my girls don’t go to me.

They go straight to Julian.

“King!” they squeal. Rae clings to his leg. Kelice hugs him around the waist.

He crouches, smiling, scooping them both into a loose bear hug. I can barely stand the sight of it. It’s almost too sweet. Bittersweet.

Ebony raises an eyebrow at me over their heads.

“I need to talk to you,” I say, my voice low.

She nods and we head off toward her bedroom, where I close the door behind us.

“Okay,” she says, arms crossed. “What the fuck is going on?”

I sit on the edge of her bed, my body already tired and the day hasn’t even started yet.

“Brett’s been threatening me,” I say, underplaying the hell out of the whole situation.

Her face balls up. “Threatening…what?”

“Harm,” I say. “Serious harm.” She sits beside me, then leans in close. “Sable…does he know?”

“No,” I say a little too fast. “It’s impossible.”

Her facial expression is pure doubt. “You need to consider the possibility.”

I can’t. Not right now.

Ebony switches gears. “And who the hell is that in my living room?”

I can’t help the small smile. “My protector.”

She sighs. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” My smile fades when I see how deeply the worry is etched on her face. “He’s helping me,” I say. “I trust him.”

“Clearly. You left my nieces with him. He’s not a stranger, is he? When did you even meet him? And are y’all fucking ?” she rapid-fire interrogates me, whispering that last word.

“Ebony, please. Just…leave it alone.”

“Whatever.” She shakes her head. “So you’re taking the girls?”

“Yeah. I need to have them with me.”

She exhales slowly. “Are y’all safe? Because if you need me, you know I got you. Don’t shut me out.”

I meet her eyes. “I can’t tell you everything right now. But I will. I promise.”

When we return to the living room, we find Julian on the couch with Henry on his lap and the girls flanking him on either side, talking his ear off. I bite back a smile. I know my sister’s watching me like a hawk.

When her eyes move over to the scene on the couch, I can tell she’s assessing him.

“Girls, go get your bags,” I tell them over the tenor of the little voices. They pout, but they do what I ask, leaving the three adults alone—and Henry, of course.

Ebony’s eyes follow the girls, then bounce back to Julian.

“Take care of my girls,” she warns.

He nods once. “I will. Don’t even worry about that.”

Just like me, I think she believes him. How could she not? The gravitas with which he said it can’t be denied. For whatever reason, on this particular day of my peculiar life, the man my husband hired to kill me decided he doesn’t play about me…or my babies.

I can’t explain, but it is what it is. And it feels good.

Ebony stands in the door with a yapping Henry in her arms, watching us pile into a strange vehicle together with a strange man. I know this isn’t easy for her, but it’s for her own good that I leave her in the dark for now.

Maybe forever if Julian sticks around after.

But right now, I can’t even picture the next five minutes, much less the rest of my life.

My heart thuds as Julian starts the engine.

The girls chatter in the back, excited and loud, oblivious to the danger we’re all in.

I turn to look at them. “So what did y’all do with Auntie?”

“Made brownies!” Rae chirps. “And we watched Wicked .”

“Again?” I say with a chuckle. “Yall aren’t tired of that movie yet?”

I glance at Julian, unnerved when I see his eyes. Over and over, they flick to the rear and side mirrors. My nerves prickle as Kelice chatters on about Wicked .

I place a hand gently on his thigh. “What’s wrong?”

He glances at me, giving a tight shake of his head.

I follow his line of sight. My gaze catches the edge of a shiny black car two lengths behind us.

A chill runs up my spine.

Before I can speak, his voice cuts in, sharp and focused.

“Hold on tight.”

His foot slams the gas, and the SUV lurches forward. Tires squeal. The girls scream, and my heart thuds against my chest as I quickly realize what’s happening.

Brett is coming for us.