He stroked his erection once, placing his fingers on the tab of his zipper. A shadow passed across his rearview mirror. He dropped his cell in the passenger seat and put the car in drive. Within blocks, he’d identified the tail. One of the vehicles that’d been parked at the Sunflower in the past few days. A large SUV.
She’d gotten herself some security, and they wanted to fucking dance. Enzo had all the moves and the local area map memorized. He pressed the accelerator and headed for the mountains. Through switchbacks on the side roads, the idiot kept following. Since the fucker wouldn’t give up, Enzo had to fix the problem for good. He headed to the spot where he’d ditched his useless grunt—sheer cliff, no guardrail, barely a two-lane road.
Neither of them played at being discreet. There wasn’t even an effort on his tail’s part to remain hidden. Enzo laughed. The tail made it too easy. On the straightaway to the turn, he accelerated. As expected, so did his mark. Enzo swung into the oncoming lane and hit the brakes. The tail came up parallel. Enzo accelerated and spun the steering wheel hard to the right and back. The rear wheels of the tail’s car slid off the road.
Enzo grinned at the panicked man’s face, saddened he couldn’t grab his phone and snap a picture. He’d just have to remember the delightful image of sheer terror.
Unable to linger despite the urge, Enzo drove a little farther to the turnout and made a U-turn. He still had some cleanup to take care of. Ninety minutes later, he got the supplies he needed at the 24-hour Walmart to finish his earlier project. His mental list included canvas drop cloths, rope, work gloves. And a shovel.
SIXTEEN
Amy
Poundingon the bedroom door jolts me awake. Where am I? Low ambient light filters in through the sheers of the Bluebell guest room window as the night with Tyler comes back to me. He’s already up, slipping on his jeans commando. I pull the covers high to cover my bare chest. The illuminated numbers of the digital clock tell me it’s not that late, just nearing midnight.
“Sorry to wake you.” Agony ripples through Eliot’s deep voice. “Blake’s been in an accident. He’s being taken to the hospital in Colorado Springs.”
My breath catches as a weight lands on my chest. Eliot’s words crash through the dozens of questions bouncing in my brain. I can’t get out of bed like this. I should have put on pajamas last night. I never sleep naked for this very reason.
“Be down in five.” Tyler closes the door and moves lightning fast to pick up his clothes. I follow his lead, and we’re dressed in two minutes. On the way down the stairs, I finger comb my hair into a ponytail and grab a tie from my purse. I automatically start the kettle but unplug it when I realize what I’ve done. There’s no time for tea and comfort. I grab my bag and return to the great room where the guys have gathered.
“…both cars. I’ll drive Amy’s. Stone, you take my rental. Stay close. Best thing we can do for Blake right now is arrive in one piece.” Tyler is calm and commanding. Cade and Eliot are wrecked. Tear tracks mar Cade’s cheeks, and Eliot is locked to his phone, tugging his ear.
I check the doors are locked. Alex sets the alarm as we all file out to the cars. Eliot and Tyler take the front seat of my car. Alex and I slide into the back. Four seat belts click into place, and we’re on our way. Stone is behind us with Cade.
“What happened?” Tyler asks Eliot.
“Blake took patrol last night. He saw someone taking pictures from a car behind the Sunflower. He realized you and Amy were visible through the curtains. Your outlines.”
Heat rushes up my cheeks. The image of me in front of the sheers, lit from behind, lodges in my throat.
“Blake called it in and said he was going to follow the guy. But then he went radio silent. His GPS on his phone was stationary right off eighty-two past Aspen. Cade called him. No answer.” Eliot scrubs his hand over his head. “The phone rang a minute later. It was Blake’s line, but he didn’t say anything. I called 911 from my cell. Cade was trying to find the directions to Blake. Before he could finish, the police called back.” Eliot chokes on the last few words.
Please, let Blake be okay.
Tyler waits silently, providing a rock-steady presence in a car filled with tension. He keeps driving the speed limit. I’m relieved we’re not traveling on the same mountain road. Going through Glenwood takes a little longer but is much safer. One more day, first of October, and that treacherous route Blake was on would likely be closed. I might lose my mind if Eliot doesn’t finish explaining what happened.
Eliot takes a slow, shaky breath. “Someone had already reported the accident. Blake was forced over the side of the road. The car rolled and—”
A chiming sound stops Eliot. He glances at his screen, pushes the button, and holds the cell to his ear. It’s amazing the call actually came through. In another mile or so, we’ll be in a dead zone. Eliot’s quiet “oh fuck” sends a chill through me.
I hold back a million questions. Who is it? What’s happening? And most importantly, is Blake going to be okay?
As soon as Eliot ends the call, he pounds a fist on my dashboard. “It’s not looking good,” he says. “They used the jaws of life to pull him from the vehicle and have him back up on the road. Medevac arrived while the cop was talking to me, so we had to hang up.”
Air lifted. This is so bad. I could reassure Eliot about how good everyone at that hospital is. How it’s on par with the Denver hospital in terms of level of care. But nothing will make him feel better, especially not platitudes from me. There’s only one reason someone would want to hurt Blake—to kill him—me.
If I hadn’t taken the stupid, unnecessary risk of becoming the treasurer for ABBA, Tyler wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have had to call his friends to protect me. All I had to do was follow the rules, and I failed. Now, a man in a helicopter is on his deathbed. A man who was on that road to ensuremysafety while I was fucking Tyler.
What does that say about me?
I gag on my shame.
It says nothing good. Nothing about this entire situation is okay, and it might never be okay again for the grieving man in the front seat. The most important thing right now is to get Eliot to Blake’s side. After that, I’ll figure out how to extract myself from this situation of my own making and let these men get back to their lives. If that’s possible.
SEVENTEEN
Tyler
