Tiny almost to the point of being frail, her long dark hair trailing down her back, her composed features belying what she was ordering the men to do.
“Aren’t I always sure?” She smiled complacently. “I was sure when I ordered my sister’s death and I’m sure now that we know where that bitch daughter of hers is. Kill the marine too, Colby, we can’t afford to have him looking for vengeance.”
Colby sat back in his chair and smiled back at her. “I’ll take care of it, Luce. Now take care of me…” He was undoing his pants.
She didn’t need to see that. She couldn’t watch it. There were three video files, and dozens of pictures. The proof that Sierra Maddox’s sister had planned her death as well as her daughter’s was irrefutable. The end result was her marriage to Vinny Maddox and ultimately taking over the upper sect of the Clan called the Kin, rather than just the lower ranks of soldiers the Kin often used for backup or support.
For power. For the gold it was rumored the Maddox Clan had hidden in case of a national catastrophe as well as locations of other Clans and planned defense measures should the worst happen and America be invaded for whatever reason.
The locations and plans she had sold the second they were found. The gold she intended to move and keep for herself.
“She’s insane,” Cord finally sighed as Kenni closed the laptop silently, her hands resting on the lid to keep from clawing at Phoenix in rage.
“If Colby and I aren’t there in a few hours, she’ll know something’s happened,” Phoenix told them. “She has an escape plan out of the house to a small private airfield where she keeps a plane. She’ll fly out before you realize she’s left the mountain.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Cord assured him. “You’ll be buried with your brother as you asked. You have my word on it.”
Phoenix nodded, tears still falling from his eyes as his head lowered and he sat silently, waiting. He’d just be released once they had Cord and Kenni’s aunt in custody. He’d be driven to the county line but Jazz sincerely doubted he’d make it more than a few feet before he met the business end of a Kin bullet.
“Upstairs,” Jazz growled, taking the laptop from the table and keeping his arm carefully around Kenni as he led her to the steps. “Let’s figure out how we’re going to handle it.”
* * *
They weren’t handling it without her.
Moving woodenly, Kenni told herself she was fine. She had everything in working order, and now that she knew the truth she could hold herself together. It was just a matter of a plan, and Cord was wonderful with plans.
But inside, deep inside, she knew the truth. When the break came, when the shield that had protected her since the night her mother had died shattered, the exposure of all she had lost and the pain she had pushed back might destroy her.
“Slade, you and the others go on to the kitchen. Show Deacon, Sawyer, and Cord’s men the evidence. We’ll be down in a few minutes,” Jazz stated as he headed for the stairs, drawing her with him as she fought to keep from stumbling, to make her legs move correctly, to keep her body functioning.
Shock perhaps? She didn’t think she’d been in shock since that first night, just after seeing her mother hanging in a murderer’s hands. The bullet in her shoulder, the horrific feel of having it cut from her, unable to pass out from the pain or the mental fury that kept exploding through her senses.
Gunny had knocked her out. She wished someone would be that merciful now.
The bedroom door closed behind them before she realized they had entered the room and Jazz was pushing her into a chair before hunching down in front of her.
“Look at me.” The growl in his voice was firm, too demanding to ignore.
It hurt to meet his gaze. Her throat was so tight that swallowing was nearly impossible as the band around her chest tightened further.
She’d lived with that band for so long. Like a restraint encasing her heart, her soul, and it let her know it was there by restricting her ability to breathe, reminding her that she couldn’t let herself feel whatever she was feeling. But now she didn’t know what she was feeling. It was clawing at her chest, raking over something exposed and raw as Kenni fought to breathe through the pain. That band across her chest restricted her ability to do that, though; it weakened her and stole some of the hard-won control she’d prided herself on.
“Momma loved Aunt Luce,” she whispered, remembering many of the conversations they’d had on their shopping trips. “She said Luce was always sick when she was young. Momma stayed with her and looked after her. She thought they were so close. And she knew that last summer, didn’t she? She knew her sister had betrayed her.”
Her chest actually hurt. A heart attack perhaps, she wondered fatalistically. How very apt. How many times could a person’s heart be broken before it was irreparable?
“Maybe she didn’t,” Jazz whispered, his fingertips whispering over her cheek. “Whatever she was supposed to have, she didn’t give you, and neither did your uncle. If she had known, Kenni, she would have called your father, your brothers. Wouldn’t she?”
That made sense. It made more sense than to believe that her mother knew and would have put them both in danger. Sierra Maddox had always placed her children above everyone else. Above everything else.
The band loosened enough to breathe. Staring into Jazz’s eyes she could feel his strength enfolding her, wrapping around her like a soft, age-worn quilt.
“I’m going with you.” Her voice sounded stronger now. She could do this. She could see it through. “I have to face her.”
“Kenni…” He began shaking his head.
“You don’t want to push me out of this, Jazz,” she warned him, determination hardening inside her. “I’m the one she’s hunted for ten years. It was my mother, my uncle, friends who wanted only to protect me, that were murdered on her orders. Push me out and I won’t forgive you.”
His expression tightened dangerously. “You want to be a part of it, then show me you can hold it together until we’re finished. You break in the middle of it, Kenni, and you endanger not just the Kin that follow us, but your brothers…”
“Don’t treat me like a child, I know who will be endangered,” she snapped, glaring at him. “I’m not sixteen, Jazz. I have it together.”
He stared back at her intently for long moments before his expression eased enough that the savagery softened minutely.
“Yeah, you do,” he finally agreed. “Let’s get it done then.”
Straightening, he held his hand out to her. Strong, broad, it was callused and roughened, but gentle when he touched. And the offer he was extending to her was one she didn’t mistake. Even Gunny had never shared her protection with her. He’d always pushed her back; he’d never extended his hand to her in an offer to be a part of it.
Laying her palm in his, feeling his fingers close around her hand gave her more strength than it should have. It gave her hope. And hope, she realized, was something she’d been living without until she returned to Loudoun. Until she returned to Jazz.
Rising, she stood before him and placed her other hand against his chest, just above his heart.
“Jazz,” she whispered.
“Yeah, Kenni?” His lips brushed against her hair before he leaned back to stare down at her.
“On the ride to New York, I told Momma you were all I could think about,” she whispered. “She said if there was a more worthy young man to be fascinated with, then she couldn’t think of him.”
“Your momma was a good woman. A smart one.” His lips quirked with his trademark smile.
She’d told her mother she wasn’t just fascinated, but that could wait, she decided. It could wait until the past was resolved and she had a future to look forward to.
“Ready?”
She nodded, still staring up at him.