“Where’re Vinnie and Sin?” I ask, sounding hysterical.
I can’t breathe, feeling like I was stuck down there, in the smoke and burning rubble.
“Shay, calm down, they’re both fine,” Irish says, his accent becoming more pronounced. “Breathe, woman, you’re hyperventilating.”
Breathe?
I can’t breathe.
Then all I see is black.
THIRTY-THREE
“SHAY?” I hear Vinnie say over and over again, gently tapping my cheek. I open my eyes, feeling groggy, like one would after a weekend of binge drinking and waking up after only an hour’s sleep.
“Yeah?”
“Wake up, babe,” he says, sounding worried. “Look at me.”
I look into concerned, familiar brown eyes.
“There you are,” he whispers, pushing my hair out of my face. “Irish said you fainted on him . . . that doesn’t sound like something my stubborn woman would do.”
I force myself to sit up and glance around. We’re in a moving car, with Irish driving.
“What happened?” I ask as everything hits me. “My house blew up.” I slap his shoulder. “You didn’t tell me anything! You had everything planned, didn’t you?”
He continues to play with my hair, soothing me while I rant at him.
“If I told you the plan, you wouldn’t have let me go ahead with it,” he says, not sounding sorry in the least. “I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission.”
“Tell me what you did.”
He cringes a little, so I brace for the worst, knowing I wasn’t going to like the words that come out of his mouth.
“Your house was under surveillance. They knew you’d have to come back eventually, so instead of chasing you, they were just being patient,” he starts to explain. “Irish and Tracker scoped out your house last week so we knew what we were dealing with. They also set up the explosives. I needed them to see you arrive with me, because after it blew up, I want everyone to think that you were in the house.”
“You’re faking my death?” I ask, eyes widening.
“Faking your death and killing those bastards at the same time. Two birds, one stone.”
“They’ll check for a body,” I say, knowing it isn’t that easy.
“There will be a body,” Vinnie says quietly. “Don’t worry, it’s all taken care of.”
I open my mouth and close it. Wait, what?
“Vinnie—”
“You don’t want to know, Shay. Trust me,” he says, warning in his tone.
I gulp and rest my head on his lap, my head suddenly hurting. Where did he get a woman’s body from? Holy shit. I think he’s right, I probably don’t want to know.
“Where’s Sin?”
“Riding in front of us,” Vinnie replies, now rubbing my back. “Go to sleep if you want, we have a few hours left.”
“What about your SUV?” I ask him.
“Rake drove it back while we were all still in the house. Don’t worry, everything is fine, Shay. No loose ends.”
No loose ends? How can he even say that? Men died, in my house, from explosives they set up. Sure, those men wanted to kill me, but still. And a woman’s body is in there, pretending to be mine, her bones probably burned to charcoal. How long was she dead before they placed her body in the house? Was she there when I was there? Vinnie is right—I don’t want to know. I push it all from my mind and try to focus on the good things. The men are all safe, no one I care about was hurt, and although I’m a little traumatized from the ride in Irish’s trunk, I’m okay too.
I close my eyes and let myself fall asleep, knowing that I am safe in Vinnie’s arms.
* * *
Shayla Anderson’s body was found among the rubble, along with the bodies of . . .
I listen to the news lady talk about me and my dead body, then turn to see everyone watching me, maybe checking for my reaction.
“So . . . I’m dead,” I blurt out, not knowing what else to say. It’s been three days since everything happened, and I’m still not sure how to process it, it all feels so surreal, like something that would happen in a movie—but this is my life.
“No, you’re safe,” Vinnie says, tugging on my ponytail. “It looks like they’re confident it’s you and aren’t bothering with dental checks, which saves us from more bribery.”
Bribery?
I look at Faye, who just gives me the thumbs-up.
“How do we know they won’t come back to the clubhouse?” I ask Vinnie.
“Because the men who did that are dead,” Sin answers as he hands Faye a drink. “We identified them; Tracker found them. They were two of the men who blew up in the house. And now that you’re dead, the Kings will want to lie low to minimize their involvement. You’re safe now.”
I study Vinnie’s face, but it shows nothing. Was he the mastermind behind the ruthlessness of the plan? Did it even matter? He did it to protect me, and no innocent people were harmed. Or is that just me making excuses and justifying it?
I lived in a world with only shades of gray, and now I was leading into blackness, but I still don’t know if I’d change anything. I rest my head on Vinnie’s chest and watch the news as they talk about my father and the other men who died. I listen to Vinnie’s heartbeat in one ear, the news of the men’s death in the other, and I know in this moment that I don’t care how many men died, as long as everyone in this room’s heart still beats.