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Chapter Twenty-Six

I gripped the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. Fallon and Mom were out there, somewhere up the mountain in the darkness, at the mercy of a monster. Every second counted. My mind raced through every scenario, and I prayed that Jace and Nolan were good. I knew SEALs were good, but I believed in Army Rangers.

I called Jace’s phone and Nolan picked up. I recognized his voice.

“It’s me, Michael.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

I gave him my GPS coordinates.

“You’re not far behind us. We just heard a gunshot.”

My heart leapt into my throat and I slammed my accelerator to the floor. Fishtail after fishtail, but I kept my truck on the dirt track, always heading forward and up the mountain.

“I see your taillights. Is it just you two?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you armed?”

“We have an arsenal.”

I relaxed, just a tiny little bit.

They started to brake, and I did as well. “I have a visual on the cabin,” Nolan said. “It was where we heard the gunshot originate. We’re going to go on foot from here.”

I shoved my truck into park and practically fell out of the driver’s side door before racing toward Jace and Nolan.

Jace put a Sig Sauer pistol into my hand, and all three of us were immediately creeping toward the cabin.

We advanced, sticking to the tree line.

“Either of you been to this cabin before?” Jace questioned in a whisper.

Nolan and I both shook our heads.

“We’ll go in from the trees on either side, then peek in the windows. We’ll communicate via phones. We’ll go in on my mark. Plan?”

Nolan and I nodded in agreement.

All three of us faded into the forest. It took about three minutes for us to ghost our way to the sides of the cabin and look in the windows.

“I’ve got visuals,” Nolan said.

“Me too,” Jace said.

“Me too,” I agreed. Mom was lying on the cabin floor, a pool of blood around her head. Meanwhile, Fallon was duct-taped to a chair, duct tape over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror as Sid held a knife above her.

A tripod with a camera pointed at them.

We all duck-walked below the windows until we met at the front cabin door. “We’re going in now ,” I commanded.

“Agreed,” both men said in unison.

Jace kicked in the door, and I went in first.

Sid looked up with a casual smile.

He stood behind Fallon, a knife to her throat, his expression twisted in sadistic delight.

“You just don’t give up, do you, boy?” he sneered, his grip tightening on the blade.

“Let her go, Sid.” I kept my voice low, steady, my gun trained on his head. “It’s over.”

Sid let out a laugh, cold and manic. “You know I don’t care if I get out of this alive. I just want to cause you as much pain as possible. Look over at that bitch you call Mom. She’s looking pretty dead to me.”

My gaze shifted to Mom, lying in a pool of blood, then I looked back at Sid.

He pressed the blade tighter to Fallon’s throat. A thin line of blood welled along the edge of the knife.

My pulse roared in my ears. I scanned the room for an opening, anything I could use. “You kill her fast and then me, you don’t get to see me suffer long. Isn’t that the whole point?”

His eyes flickered. Doubt. That’s all I needed.

A shot rang out. Sid’s arm jerked back—Nolan had shot his wrist. The knife clattered to the floor. Fallon launched herself sideways, knocking her chair over. I took the shot.

His head exploded.

Nolan was on his knees next to my mother. “I have a pulse. Jace, go to the truck and grab my med kit.”

I was already at Fallon’s side. I carefully pulled the duct tape off her mouth. I ripped the duct tape from her clothes as I got her free. She threw her arms around my neck, her body trembling against mine. We both stumbled over to my mom.

Mom’s eyes were open, and she was pissed. “Did you kill him?” she demanded to know.

“I did.”

“Good.”

Then she turned to Nolan. “I don’t know your name, son. I’m Lana Rankin.”

Now that I saw she was in good hands, I turned to Fallon.

“You did so good. That was so smart to ask Sid if you would need a jacket.”

“I knew you’d come,” she whispered against my chest.

I took off my jacket and wrapped it around her. She gave me a grateful smile.

“I’ll always come after you. I never want to be apart from you again.”

She looked up at me solemnly. “Michael, you do understand you’re nothing like him, don’t you?”

The noxious feeling that had floated around in my gut finally dispersed. I smiled at Fallon. “Yeah, I know. But I’ll never tire of you telling me that. I love you.”

“And I’ll never tire of you telling me that.”

I had invited myself over to dinner at the Vickers and then arrived early. I’d told Bob and Isla that I needed to talk to them about something important. I knew they thought I was going to propose to Fallon, and I was, but first I needed to set some things straight.

Fallon was sitting on the couch, flanked on either side by her parents. I was standing by the fireplace, my shoulders tense. I put my hands in my slacks pockets, then took them out. Fallon knew what this was all about, and she looked as nervous as I felt.

“Mr. and Mrs. Vickers.”

“Michael, you call us Bob and Isla, you know that,” Bob interrupted me.

I gave a brief head nod.

“I need to explain a couple of things, now that the dust has settled. You now know about my biological dad killing my mom when I was five years old, and me testifying against him. After all, it made national news, what with Mom’s and Fallon’s kidnapping.”

Bob nodded. “Yep. He was a nasty piece of work.”

“Yeah, he was. The thing is, part of me, deep down, really thought I was like him. I didn’t realize it consciously, but that belief was there.”

I saw both of her parents frowning, trying to comprehend what I was saying.

“The long and short of it is, the night before the wedding, I set things up so Fallon would see me kissing Lindsay Marx and going into her house with her. I made it look like I would be spending the night with her.”

“I don’t understand,” Isla said.

“You did what?” Bob asked loudly.

“You’re catching on, Bob. I arranged it so Fallon would see something that would guarantee she would dump me and call off the wedding.”

“What the fuck?” Bob stood up, and for a moment he looked like his old self as his fists clenched beside him. “You destroyed my baby’s dreams?”

I nodded.

“You bastard,” Isla chimed in. “How could you do that to Fallon?”

I turned to look at Fallon.

“You know why I did it. You say you understand, and I thank God for your understanding.” I went to the couch and knelt in front of her. “But what I haven’t said to you, is just how fucking sorry I am for having done something so utterly harmful and mean. If I could, I would rip my heart out of my bloody chest and hand it to you to show you how sorry I truly am.”

She stared at me, silent, her gaze unreadable. I swallowed and pressed on.

"I figured out what I was doing, deep down inside. I thought I was doing you a favor by making you hate me, so you could have somebody better in your life. Deep down I was convinced I was a monster just like my real father.

"I know you said we could move forward at one point, but until this chapter is well and truly closed, I just don’t think we can. I’m begging for your forgiveness. Do you think you have it in you to give it to me? I’ll make it up to you every single day if you let me. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I’ll never push you away again."

Her eyes softened, and she let out a breath. “Michael, do you understand that not only are you not a monster, you’re actually a hero?”

I leaned back, studying her eyes.

She cupped my cheeks. “You’re my hero.” She placed a chaste kiss on my lips.

I stood up and held out my hand to her so she could stand up as well. I turned to look at Bob. “Mr. Vickers, I would like your blessing to marry your daughter. Will you give it to me?”

Bob looked over at Fallon. “Fallon, do you want me to give my blessing?”

I was shocked. What had happened to Bob Vickers? I was going to have to ask Fallon in private later. As long as she said yes to my proposal.

“Yes, Dad, I would love it if both you… and Mom, gave us your blessing.”

Bob stepped forward and kissed Fallon’s cheek. Then he turned to me and shook my hand. “You have my blessing, Michael.”

Isla got up from the couch and kissed Fallon’s cheek, then rested her hand on my chest. “You have my blessing as well, Michael.”

With that, I knelt down on one knee and opened up a black box. I presented Fallon with a ring that was completely different from the diamond solitaire I had proposed to her with before.

It was a sizeable emerald flanked by a diamond on either side. “The emerald is to represent you, Fallon, and the diamonds represent me always at your side, supporting you, no matter what.”

“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed.

“Will you marry me and give me the chance to spend forever making things right?"

She sniffed, blinking rapidly. Then, with a watery smile, she nodded. “Yes, you idiot. Yes.”

Relief crashed over me and I surged to my feet. I swept her into my arms and kissed her deep and sure.

My Fallon had said yes. There was just one last thing that needed to be done.