Page 76 of Mercenary

“What?” she demands.

“Declan. He found me that morning after the Pitt closed and offered me a ride to college.” Offered isn’t exactly the term I’d use to describe our exchange. I’m choosing my words wisely because Kylie might be physically strong yet there’s an air of desperation about her, similar to how she seemed those last few months leading up to Mama’s death. That she’s straddling a thin line between normal and utterly unhinged.

“Let me get this straight. You didn’t catch a bus from Dayton as originally planned. Declan tracked you down that morning, put you in his pickup, drove across four states, and left you in San Diego.”

“Five states if you count Oklahoma.”

“Declan . . . a tall, blond beast with the personality of a pea did this?”

“I told you the night before you disappeared, he’d been to the trailer.”

“Sweet mother of Mary.” She’s got this funny look on her face, like she’s trying to solve a challenging scientific equation where none of the parts are adding up.

“He dropped you off in San Diego and left?”

“Yes.” I bite my lip, then straighten my spine. “Is he the person after you? Were you working together to bring down the mob?”

“Did he tell you that?”

I roll my eyes again.

She snorts. “Getting anything out of that coldhearted bastard is like squeezing milk out of a stone.”

“Kylie, answer my questions. I can’t help you if I don’t understand what you’re involved in.”

“Jesus Christ, Madelyn. You need to start worrying about yourself. Help me? No one can help me. I was late, so blessedly late.”

Kylie pulls herself to a standing position, blinking back tears. A rare sight, her almost crying. I want to comfort her, take her back into my arms and tell her everything will be fine. A promise I can’t keep if I continue to be kept in the dark.

“Late to what?”

“Jaxson,” she whispers.

My eyebrows lift and my heart goes out to her. There’s so much pain in her tone, in her expression. Whoever this man is, it’s crystal clear she cares deeply about him.

“I thought you were safe. But somehow DiCapitano found out I was spying on him. He sent his men to find me . . . except they found you.”

I shake my head. “No, they didn’t.” Oh my God. Not unless Declan lied, and he is part of the mob.

“Holy fuck. It makes sense now. Declan killed them.”

“Those men at the Pitt? Yes, he did,” I say, then frown because I haven’t yet shared with her how Declan shoot up the Pitt parking lot . . .”

“Not them,” Kylie continues. “Franco’s mobsters, whose bodies I found outside our trailer.”

“What?” My throat hitches. “Bodies . . . when?”

“I thought to protect you from this . . . seems I’m not the only one . . .”

“Hold on. Declan killed Franco’s men outside our trailer? Why would he do such a thing?”

She stares hard at me like she’s never seen me before. “Good question.”

“So you work together?”

“We . . . did.” She rubs her fingers across her jaw. “Declan will go to any lengths to obey an order. He’s the worst of the worst. A lone wolf. A professional who prides himself on getting the job done. Using whatever means necessary. Thank fuck he’s not exactly your touchy-feely kind of guy.”

I think about how he rocked into me, gently, taking his time to ensure I was ready for him. Right. Ready for what is what I should have been thinking about.