Page 22 of What I Should Have Felt (Anchors and Eagles #4)

FORD

I waited at the end of Colette’s driveway with my parents’ van, which I definitely didn’t tell them I was taking.

Destruction and mayhem were evident beyond the front door that swung loose on a single hinge.

I’d only had enough time to dispose of the four bodies outside of their house before they’d returned.

Azelie stood quietly beside me since she’d not been allowed to go back inside to pack a to-go bag.

Silence. The air was thick and musty, completely still.

Too still for my liking, and my nerves were still on edge.

This wasn’t the usual rough-up type attack.

Something felt too personal about it, and I was hating the sinking feeling settling in my stomach.

I crossed my arms and slid my teeth back and forth across my lips.

Hopefully, I’d hidden the blood-stained jacket, colored contacts, and mask well enough that once they climbed inside, nobody would see it, but that had been one of the last things on my mind.

What a fool I’d been to not also install security cameras at our houses.

I’d failed. And now, I also had a stab wound in my back that I knew the bandage from my mom’s first aid kit in her van wasn’t going to hide for long.

Somehow, I was going to have to come up with some lie as to why I needed Colette to stitch that up, too.

But not only that, I was in fight mode.

Rage mode.

To hell with keeping Colette out of the violence that was my job.

A phone call to my brothers waited for me.

I wished Dom was here to take charge, because I preferred being the fucking battering ram, not the leader.

Give me orders, let me snap some necks, shoot some fucking awesome guns, and bust down doors. That was where I shined.

Besides, wasn’t this the police’s job? Oh wait, the fucking department here in town was bought by the same fucking man who’d sent those guys after Colette in the first place.

“Are you…okay?” Azelie asked, snapping me from my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I grumbled and stared at the front door, waiting for any sign they were coming out soon. Which reminded me, I probably should give my family a heads up. Digging into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and started a group text with my parents and Mawmaw.

“You look… kind of… I don’t know,” Azelie continued and took a cautious step away.

“I’m fucking angry,” I snarled as I finished typing out my no-contest message that the LeBlancs were coming to stay with us.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Azelie quietly said.

I stared at the locked screen of my phone for a moment. It felt like it was. That was the problem. If I’d put security cameras here, or at least decided to check on the LeBlancs instead of being wrapped up in personal shit, maybe I’d been here before they got here and could’ve run them off.

As I stuffed the phone back in my pocket, I glanced down at Azelie. “No contact lens this time?”

Her brows raised. “Oh, well, I was getting ready for bed. I don’t sleep in them, so…”

“True,” I replied and sucked my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Will I still be able to go to cross-country practices? I don’t want to lose my spot going into sophomore year since I was freshman captain this past school year,” she asked.

“As long as your mom is comfortable with it, we’ll make it work. The restaurant’s gotta still run, and I’m planning on adding security cameras to the house. Plus, I’ll have you share your phone’s location with me, and get one of those watches that connect with it.”

“I already have one of those.” She raised her wrist with a smile.

“Good. Don’t take that off. Don’t lose it.” I pulled my gaze back to the front door as a shadow passed in front of it.

“My grandparents don’t like tattoos, but yours look really cool,” Azelie continued.

I chuckled to myself. I’d known that they hated them, which was another reason I’d gotten Colette’s drawings tattooed on me. A subtle “fuck you” to them.

“What’s so funny?” she asked as Colette’s mom stepped over the threshold of her broken front door.

“Nothing,” I replied and muttered the truth under my breath in Cajun-French .

Azelie’s brows furrowed as Colette’s dad followed her mom out, carrying two duffel bags. “You said ‘fuck,’ but that was all I understood.”

I whipped my head toward her. “Why, of all the words in French, is ‘fuck’ the one you know? Also, don’t say that word.”

“But you did.”

“Like we already discussed, I have a bad habit that you don’t need to pick up.”

“Fine.” She pursed her lips, but the twinkle in her eye had me smiling to myself.

“You’re a lot like your mom, you know that?”

She grinned as Colette finally made her appearance in the doorway. Without letting Azelie answer, I pointed at the van and walked forward. “Get in while I go help them with their bags.”

“You like her,” Azelie blurted out, and I nearly fell over my toe as I took a step forward.

“What?” I stumbled, catching my balance with an outstretched hand on the hood of the van.

“My mom. You like my mom. Like, like-like her,” Azelie repeated and wiggled her brows. “It’s so obvious now.”

“Uh, I do not.”

“You do.” She grinned and then darted inside the van.

Shit. If Azelie could pick that up, then I wasn’t doing a good job hiding my emotions. With a shake of my head, I shoved everything back into that bottle. Every emotion, including rage. It was time to become the monster of death I’d been trained to be.

My parents and Mawmaw stood outside the front door with their arms crossed as I pulled the van into the driveway.

The short drive had not been silent, but I’d also not been included in the whispered argument occurring in the back seat between Colette and her parents.

Azelie had simply pushed herself up against the window and stared out as I drove us to my house.

With his arms crossed, my dad stepped off the porch and glared at me.

“See?” Colette’s mom whispered. “They don’t want us here, just like we don’t want to be here.”

Fuck this.

I spun around in my seat and shot a steely glare at two people who had done nothing but turn my life into a living hell from the moment they threatened me.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” I snarled and pointed at Colette’s parents.

“You two are going to get your asses out of this van, and walk into that house. There’s a guest bedroom that you’ll be staying in, and I won’t hear another lick of a fucking argument.

Colette and Azelie will stay in my room, while I stand guard.

You don’t have to talk to my parents or Mawmaw.

You don’t have to interact with them in any way, shape, or form.

I will be your liaison if you’re going to continue with this fucking petty bullshit, because despite all of the shit you give, I’d rather not see you fucking dead. ”

Colette’s and Azelie’s wide eyes and open jaws were mirror images of Colette’s parents. But I was fed up with this.

“You were attacked in your home, by someone who is after my family, too. So, until this asshole is gone, can you act like fucking normal human beings, and put this rivalry on pause?” I shook my head, the frustration boiling within me along with a smidge of praise for myself.

Fifteen years later and I’d finally grown a pair of fucking balls where her parents held not an ounce of control over me.

Colette’s dad slid forward and wagged a finger at me. “How dare you talk—”

“Don’t,” I snapped. His eyes widened. “Or I’ll come clean to her.”

He slunk back in his seat and shared a quick glance with his wife.

Silence strangled the van, but the tension shifted as I briefly caught Colette’s gaze.

Something wicked burned in her green eyes.

Something that surprised me since I’d never shown her this side of me.

I’d always tried to be soft with her, allowing her to take the reins because I’d thought that was what she wanted.

But then again, we’d been kids, and I knew my understanding of love was practically non-existent then.

“I’ll tell my parents the same thing,” I added, unable to pull my gaze from Colette’s.

The wicked female rage that I’d been on the receiving end of the moment I’d returned, sifted away like flour in a recipe.

And for the first time since I’d known her, she seemed gentle.

It was beautiful. She’d always been beautiful, but this willing submission filled a hole that had expanded between us .

With a groan, the van doors slid open, and I exited along with the LeBlancs.

I shot a warning glare at my dad, and he took a step back on the porch.

I’d explain things later to them, but right now, I needed to sort out another security system from Griffin if he’d let me borrow a third one.

There was also the matter of a talk with Colette.

That conversation still needed to happen, but not while I smelled of blood and death and sweat that itched upon my skin. After the shower. After Azelie was settled in and asleep. After the world finally stopped spinning out of control.

Walking up to the porch in front of the LeBlancs, I paused beside my parents and reached forward to my mom. She crossed her arms and shook her head as tears threatened in her eyes, and I retracted my outstretched hand.

“Mama, they broke into their house. They took…” I cleared my throat as the LeBlancs paused at the base of the porch stairs.

“One of them took Azelie to the bedroom to—to—” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

There’d been too many times I’d seen exactly what the aftermath would’ve been had I not shown up when I had. Too many times we’d been too late.

A ringing started in my ears as I stared at my mom, begging her to offer a smidge of grace. I knew we hadn’t even begun to prepare the burnt bridge between us, but I really needed my mama at this moment.

She dropped her arms, and a tear slid down her cheek. “Is she okay?” my mom asked.

I nodded fervently. At least with my daughter, I’d made it in time. At least now she was in my house, under my roof .

“Well, then, I guess I should grab a few more towels from the linen closet,” she said and wiped the stain from her cheek. Relief, at least a tiny drop of it, slithered in through the apprehension.

My mom walked around me with a gentle pat on my arm. She gave a tight smile to the LeBlancs and then gestured at the door. “Well, let’s get you settled, shall we?”

This wasn’t going to be easy, but at least it was a start, and they would be safe.

Safe. What a foreign concept. I hadn’t felt entirely safe since Duncan was killed. Even with Bernie and his family, something had itched beneath the surface of my skin as if warning me about the carnage waiting at home.

But if I could at least provide some semblance of peace to Colette and Azelie, then maybe I was worth something.

No matter the cost, I’d keep them safe.

No matter the cost.