Page 11

There’s not another house close to them, and I know that when she was screaming, no one would have heard her.

I glance in the rearview mirror, knowing that I’ve left her in the distance. Her Mustang can only go one-fifty-five tops.

When I pull up to their little house on the hill, I jump out with my gun in hand, leaving my bag behind and my ignition running.

I try the door but find that it’s locked. I should shoot the bitch off, but I don’t. I bang on the door with the butt of my gun instead.

I hear the fool holler back, “What?”

“Open this door, Kenny! I’m not playing with you.”

“Go on, Bayleigh. I’m not in the mood for your shit. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Bitch, please! You asked for trouble the minute you put your muthafuckin’ hands on my sister.”

“Ask your sister what she did to me,” he shouts through the door.

I bang on the door and kick it. “Open the door, Kenny!” I yell.

“I’m not opening that door, Bayleigh. Take your crazy ass back down to the valley where you belong.”

“I’m about to shoot this bitch off if you don’t answer the door right now!” I shout, kicking it one last time.

“Did you see my car in the driveway?”

“I don’t give a damn about your car.” I turn to look at his car for the first time.

The front windshield of his beloved gold BMW is shattered, and the tires are slit. I can see from where I am that it appears the leather seats have been slashed as well.

“She didn’t have to do that shit, Bayleigh.”

“You must have done something to deserve it. We both know that Riley’s not destroying your car for no reason. But I don’t care if she did, the shit you did to her ain’t flying with me.”

I am tired of screaming at the top of my lungs, so I kick the door several more times until it starts splintering. Just when I aim the gun at the door to finish the job, I hear not one but two sets of cars squealing to a stop behind me.

Shit. Did he call the police?

Spinning around, I groan. It’s worse than the cops. Riley has pulled up behind me, but behind her is Zaire.

My man is fuming mad. I swear it looks like fire is shooting from those dark, midnight-black eyes when he jumps from the truck. Ghalen’s big ass jumps out of the driver’s seat, running up to me right behind my husband.

“What the fuck are you doing, Bay?” Zaire demands angrily.

It’s seldom that Zaire gets upset with me. I can name a handful of times that he’s been this way and still have fingers left over.

“Did you see Riley’s face?” I shout, pointing at the car parked in front of his Ranger.

“No.” Zaire turns back to look at Riley, still inside her car.

Ghalen stalks to the car.

“She’s not going to get out for him.” I cry as tears stream down my face for the first time. I’ve been too angry to cry until now. More likely than not, it’s Zaire’s presence and knowing that he’ll handle this that’s causing the tears. Tears of relief and not despair.

“Ghalen, get Bayleigh. I’ll get Riley,” Zaire orders.

Ghalen trudges up to me and reaches for me. I wave my gun. “Don’t you dare touch me, Ghalen. I’ll shoot your big ass.”

“Ms. Bayleigh, we both know that you’re not about to shoot me. Now, come on and make my job easier.”

“No, Ghalen. He didn’t have to do that to her.”

“I haven’t seen her, but if it’s got you this upset, I don’t doubt that it’s fucked up. But you already know that me and Bossman will take care of that muthafucka. Don’t make it harder than it has to be, and don’t get yourself in trouble out here,” he states in a calming voice.

My eyes dart to where Zaire is kneeling between the car and the open door, talking to Riley. He’s always treated her like she was his little sister instead of mine.

The moment that Zaire stands up, I know it’s about to be a war. His nostrils are flaring, and he’s walking slowly and steadily with his hands shoved in his pockets back to the Range. He reaches inside before he walks in our direction.

Riley climbs out of her car, leaves it running, and climbs into the Range.

“Ghalen, take the ladies back to my house in the Range.”

“But—” I object.

“I’ll take Bayleigh’s car back.”

“What about Riley’s car? He’ll do something to hers out of spite just because she did something to his,” I explain.

“That’s already been taken care of. Go home and take care of your sister, Bayleigh.”

“But—”

“Bayleigh.”

His voice is quiet, controlled, and deadly. Shit. Damn, Georgette. Why’d you have to call him?

The look that he gives me speaks to my soul. He feels my pain, and I know that everything will be all right, though it isn’t right now.

“Zaire, please don’t be mad at me.”

His nostrils flare.

“We’ll talk later. Madison will meet you at the house to see about Riley’s wounds and to check for any internal injuries.”

Madison is Dr. Madison Kimbrough, who attends to the members of Zaire’s team for any urgent issues, gunshot wounds, and anything else medical-related that he needs her to handle.

“I love you,” he whispers as he holds me in his big arms. I feel safe here. Zaire is six-two with broad shoulders, muscular arms, and the build of a linebacker. Zaire presses a kiss to my head, releases me, and then turns away from me.

I turn and walk back down the sidewalk to the driveway. I hop into the backseat with my sister and pull her into my arms.

She breaks down sobbing, and I hold her and rock her back and forth for a while as we wait for Ghalen and Zaire to finish talking.

“What do you think he’s saying?” Riley asks, looking up at me with wide eyes.

“I have no idea, honey. I just know that I don’t like seeing this side of him.”

Zaire works hard to keep me out of his business, but this isn’t business; this is personal.

Ghalen returns to the car with us and climbs inside.

“Ghalen, what did he say on the way over here?” I ask, knowing the answer to that question.

I know Zaire like the back of my hand, but I’m wondering what, if anything, he has said to Ghalen.

“He’s worried, Ms. Bayleigh. He was scared that you might get hurt or get yourself in trouble, and he wasn’t here to protect you,” the big man answers, reversing out of the driveway.

It’s then that I realize Zaire never removed his hands from his pockets. No sooner than we pull out than I see a black Charger coming up the hill. It pulls to a stop, and I turn around and look out of the window.

Janel and Kim both jump out. This ends in no good way.