Midwest Fighter (Kendall Family Book 2) Page 2

  “What’s up, buddy?” I ask, rubbing his head. He barks a few times, then races away.

  Something’s wrong.

  I wrap my fingers around Ivy’s wrist and lead her back to the pantry. “Stay put until I tell you it’s clear,” I snap. Reaching above the doorway, I grab Dad’s Glock from its holster and pull back the slide to put one in the chamber.

  Ivy’s eyes freeze on the loaded weapon. “Where are you going with that? You think someone broke in?”

  “I’m going to find out.” I start to close the door behind me, enclosing her in the dark pantry.

  “Wait!” she cries, sticking her foot in the door. A slow smile spreads across her lips and she pulls on the waistband of my sweats. “We’re still going to have sex, right?”

  Un-fucking-believable. “Stay here!” I snap with a glare that makes her step back.

  Cash continues to bark repeatedly from upstairs. If someone broke in, the gun is only necessary if they’re carrying a piece too. I can easily take care of whatever asshole is trying to steal from my parents with my bare hands if needed. I always welcome the opportunity to kick some ass when it’s deserved.

  Making my way up the dark stairway, I wince with every creak of protest from the old wooden steps underneath my weight. It was so much easier as a teen to sneak in after curfew when I weighed a good fifty pounds less. The silence that surrounds me is unsettling until Cash begins barking again. I follow the sound and end up in Mom and Dad’s room at the end of the hallway.

  Not much has changed in the master suite since Mom died. Despite Evelyn’s pleadings for him to move on, Dad didn’t have the heart to put any of her things away, making it appear she’ll be back at any moment. My insides never fail to clench with the site of her brush on the dresser, still filled with strands of her strawberry blond hairs. I avoid their bathroom at all costs knowing I’ll be surrounded by her womanly products and the smell of her favorite perfume that Dad sprays into the air every morning.

  I can’t see much in the darkened room other than Cash running circles on the far side of the bed. Gun raised, I creep over to join him. My eyes freeze on a dark pool of something glistening on the floor and a large figure sprawled out beside it. Convinced there’s no immediate threat, I hurry over to flip on the light inside the adjoining bathroom.

  My heart screeches to a stop once it fully registers what my eyes are seeing.

  Dad’s still body on the hardwood floor, covered in blood.

  Eyes open to the ceiling, mouth open.

  There’s no need to check for a pulse.

  The man who taught me everything I know, my lifelong hero, is dead.

  I drop the gun and fall to my knees.

  I always figured he’d have a heart attack or liver failure since he stopped taking care of himself so long ago, but neither would explain all the blood. Noticing several red marks on his flannel shirt, I pull it back to find angry gashes covering his chest. Someone fucking stabbed him while he was getting undressed, probably ready for an early bedtime.

  As I take his already cold, lifeless body in my arms, the coppery smell of blood coating my lungs, a flurry of hot tears releases hard and fast. With my head pressed to Dad’s, I silently make the strong, hard-working man who meant the world to me an unbreakable promise.

  I’ll find the asshole that did this.

  And then I’ll kill them.

  Chapter 2

  SHARLO

  “Shar, someone killed my dad.”

  Evelyn’s five words have replayed over and over in my head as if repeating them will somehow make it real. The chilling news has haunted me ever since I woke to her frantic call over twenty-four hours ago. Though it’s played out like a never-ending nightmare of sorts, I haven’t given myself time to worry what this means for the Kendall family, or worry there’s someone still out there meaning to do them harm. My primary focus has been on ways to make things easier on my best friend, knowing her husband would have his hands full the way it was.

  First I arranged for Charlie’s sister, Katie, to handle any business that may arise with the Rocker Chique clothing line we started with Evelyn several months ago. Then I teamed up with Charlie’s manager, Lorenzo, to make the necessary arrangements for our trip from New York to Minnesota as soon as a drive to the airport and the airline’s schedule would allow.

  After a two-hour layover in Charlotte, we’re entering the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport just as the sun is sinking beneath the horizon. Ever since Evelyn married a rockstar, I’ve become accustomed to traveling with a small entourage of rather large, fit men that screams for attention. Still, I’m unprepared for the reception we receive the moment we step inside the airport’s baggage claim area. Seems there’s a mole among the airline crew the way the paparazzi stand like vultures, waiting to catch Evelyn in the inopportune moment. My heart breaks as she marches on at Charlie’s side with sunglasses and ball-cap in place, becoming pale when reporters hurl ridiculous questions at them.

  “Why are you in Minnesota?”

  “Why do you look so upset, Evelyn? Did Charlie cheat on you?”

  “Evelyn, are you pregnant yet?”

  I don’t catch all the bullshit thrown their way, but hear enough to breath a sigh of relief when it seems they aren’t on to the real reason why they’ve returned. When a photographer steps in the way, causing Evelyn to stumble, I spin back around to face the little man, hands pressed to my hips.

  “Bloody parasite!” I yell. “How would you fancy having that camera lens shoved up your arse?”

  Shamelessly laughing in my face, Lorenzo snatches my arm to reel me in. “Easy, killer. Better to ignore them than give them something to write about.”

  The two-hour car ride that follows, taking us further into the bowels of God’s country, has me on edge. Evelyn sleeps on Charlie's chest at my side, poor luv absolutely knackered from hours of emotional turmoil, while their bodyguard Dante mans the wheel and Lorenzo prattles on at his side about whoever plays on the radio.

  At first it was most difficult adjusting to having a fit celebrity I once fancied become my close mate. But seeing Charlie fuss over Evelyn in every way never fails to warm my heart. When I glance at them, he’s cradling her in his massive arms like he’s ready to take on the world to keep her safe. All day I’ve seen the extreme frustration brewing in those mesmerizing blue orbs of his, knowing there isn’t a thing he can do to make things right or bring her dad back.

  “Any word on suspects?” I ask quietly.

  “The sheriff didn’t have much to say when I called again before our flight,” Charlie answers through clenched teeth. “I doubt their small town operation knows how to deal with this kind of thing.”

  “I’m gobsmacked that anyone would want to hurt someone like him,” I say, even though it wasn’t necessary to say such a thing aloud as everyone in the car is thinking the same. Their dad was a friendly, hard-working chap. Not the type to have enemies. “Have you spoken with James?”

  Charlie’s head hangs low as he shakes it repeatedly. “He’s not talking to anyone. The sheriff told me it took several deputies to pull him over after they clocked him going seventy down the gravel. He wasn’t making any sense so they Tased him and threw him in a cell until he calmed down enough to explain what happened.”

  Oh, how my heart aches. I can only imagine the kind of devastation involved for James to have lost the plot that way. Over time, I’ve learned Evelyn’s older brother is a complex creature made up of many characteristics—brooding, protective, and stubborn as hell. But being rational when he’s upset doesn’t seem to be in James’s nature. The first time we met, he made quite an impression with all those bulging muscles and his surly mood. Despite lecturing him for thinking Evelyn was incapable of taking care of herself, I was quite smitten.

  Then, the night of Evelyn and Charlie’s wedding, something intoxicating happened between us, leaving me to wonder if I could ever date someone like James. Of course I don’t mean James specifically, since
he lives impossibly far away and is accustomed to a simple life in an underdeveloped town I couldn’t begin to understand. I simply wondered how it would play out to care for someone that out of control who possessed a charming side so deep down it requires a pickax to break past the exterior.

  Lorenzo turns in his seat with a foolish grin. He’s handsome enough, but there doesn’t seem to be much between his ears that’s capable of logic. “Can you imagine the wattage involved to take a guy like that down? Wish I could’ve been there to see it happen. Probably took the entire police department to bring someone that size to their knees!”

  “Don’t be a wanker!” I scold with a glare, ready to tear him apart. I swear the man sees everything as one big joke. Perhaps that’s the reason he remains single. “The poor bloke found his father stabbed to death! Have a little respect!”

  Lorenzo’s guilt-ridden expression passes from Evelyn to Charlie. “Sorry, man. Don’t tell your girl I said that.”

  “Looks like this is our exit,” Dante announces, clicking the rental’s blinker and veering to the off-ramp. “Welcome to the happening town of Blue River, Minnesota, boys and girls.”

  When we pull off onto a narrow highway, there isn’t much to see in the darkness beyond bare fields of dirt and a small handful of rundown buildings. For a solid mile, we only pass one other vehicle. It puts Evelyn’s decision to move to New York when we had only met online into a whole new perspective.

  Charlie kisses the top of Evelyn’s head. “We’re there, Freckles.”

  The seemingly silly nickname he’s bestowed on his wife never fails to make my heart flutter like an adolescent with a crush. He utters the word with the upmost love and adoration, giving it more meaning than her birth-given name. Spending copious amounts of time with the love birds has altered my views on dating, forcing me to resolve that I mustn’t settle until I find someone who treats me like royalty. Guess I can plan on a plethora of tables for one in my foreseeable future.

  Evelyn stirs in his arms before sitting tall to gaze out the window. Understandably, her thick, brown hair’s a mess and the freckled skin around her eyes, dark and puffy, gives away the fact that she hadn’t slept a wink after the news of her dad’s death until the car ride. If only there was something I could do in order to lessen her heartache, maybe I wouldn't feel so utterly useless.

  “I want to run by the farm before we go to the hotel,” she says to no one in particular.

  Charlie cradles her face with one hand, running his thumb along her patches of freckles. “We talked about this, baby. I don’t think it’s a good idea until the sheriff says it’s clear. Hunter said they’re staying at Asher’s for a few days.”

  “I just want to see it,” she says as a tears slips down her cheek. “The exact spot where Dad took his last breath. It won’t be real until I understand what James felt when he walked into the room.”

  “Perhaps you should try speaking to James first,” I suggest gently. “I imagine about now he could use your support as much as you could use his.”

  Charlie nods from her other side. “Excellent idea. Why don’t you text him to see where we can meet?”

  “No need,” Evelyn answers. An almost-there smile flutters over her lips but never reaches her dull eyes. “I know exactly where he’ll be.”

  Several baffling gravel roads later that make me feel like a rat in a never-ending maze, the headlights cut onto a sprawling ranch with a massive two-story home, a big red barn, fenced in fields, and a steel building along which there’s a long queue of vehicles. I’ve never set foot on an actual ranch. Between the looming darkness and the ominous feeling that comes with being in the middle of nowhere, it’s as if we stumbled upon a slasher flick. Any minute we can expect a rush of scantily clad sorority girls to come screaming.

  “Pull in by that blue pickup,” Evelyn instructs Dante.

  Once we’ve secured a spot beside the steel building, we all pile out into the cold and wait for Evelyn’s lead. She stares at the entrance with a wistful look, seemingly reluctant to go inside.

  Charlie stands behind her like the constant rock he’s become, rubbing her arms. “Want us to give you a few minutes alone with your brother?”

  “No,” she says with a quiet laugh. “Knowing James, I’m going to need all the help I can get. Once he’s in a mood…” Instead of finishing the sentence she shivers and reaches for her husband’s hand.

  I haven’t the slightest idea what to expect until we’re inside the building. We’re greeted by a flurry of shouts and mayhem as a small crowd watches around a make-shift boxing ring among a collection of large machinery and tools scattered about.

  The colossal man who once appeared on my stoop angry as a hornet stands inside the ropes, throwing punches at a heavily inked opponent. In nothing more than bright blue gloves and long black shorts, James has the look of someone gone completely nutters as he bounces on his feet. There’s more complexity in his chocolaty brown eyes than I can possibly comprehend and his handsome face is drawn tight with rage. The way his thick, dark hair spikes all around in a haphazard fashion and his fit body glistens with perspiration, it would seem they’ve been sparring for ages.

  When provided with a proper view of his impressive chest, I’m unprepared for the lick of flames running from my stomach down to my toes. There isn’t a sculptor in the world alive or dead who wouldn’t foam at the bit to eternalize the broad curves of his chest and the strong lines of his frame. Though I normally fancy a healthy collection of tattoos on men, there’s something about James’s perfectly smooth, olive-toned skin stretched over his muscle-bound body that’s simply artistic. I forgot how massive of a man he truly is. A sizable bulge appears in his fairly loose shorts every time he bounces, suggesting he’s well above average in every department. It’s intimidating as hell and sends a shiver down my spine.

  The things I’d love to do to a superb specimen such as him are downright scandalous. It’s a bloody shame I won't be finding release anytime soon as I forgot my vibrator at home, and can’t expect anything from someone who’s grieving an unthinkable tragedy.

  Somehow I manage to drag my eyes away from his divine body, returning to study his rugged face. His chiseled features sheen with sweat under the harsh lighting and there’s a bleeding cut in the center of his wide bottom lip. I’m unaware I’ve sucked in a never-ending breath until my lungs burn for release.

  One word comes to mind: perfection.

  As if sensing my lustrous stare, his eyes are suddenly on mine, lit with surprise beneath raised brows. I fully intend to smile but his charm is so overwhelmingly brilliant that I can’t do anything aside from letting my lips part with a drastic intake of breath. There’s no mistaking those beautiful brown eyes have an immeasurable magnitude of power that could literally destroy me and my entire world.

  Our eyes are still locked when his opponent’s fist shoots out, catching him right in the center of his stomach. My hands slap over my mouth as he stumbles backward. But no matter, he recovers quite nicely, delivering a solid punch to the bloke’s jaw that sends him down to the mat.

  “James Daryl!” Evelyn cries in displeasure.

  The opponent chuckles as James helps him back to his feet. “It’s alright, Ev,” the large man tells her after removing a mouth guard. “I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to meet him here this morning.”

  “I’m not finished with you,” James says with a snarl, once again bouncing on his feet. The way he refuses to acknowledge his sister or the rest of us, I fear he’s in some sort of denial.

  “You’ve pounded me enough today already, JD,” the opponent decides, shaking his head. “You need to spend some quality time with your family.” The burly man, not as fit as James but built like a tank, slips out from between the ropes and gathers Evelyn in arms covered with colorful tattoos. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Your dad was a good man.”

  “Thanks, Ash,” Evelyn whispers. “And thanks for taking care of James.”

  Charlie
moves in closer to his wife like a magnet. The moment she releases Ash, he wraps his arms around her from behind, staking his claim. “Has he been going at it like this all day?”

  “Pretty much,” Ash answers with a chuckle. “The man is wired to deal with his feelings through his fists. He’s been that way since high school.”

  I peer over at James. He exits the ring, veering for a gym bag on the cement floor. A blonde tart who apparently buys apparel in the young children’s aisle bounces over to his side with skin flashing beneath her ill-fitting shirt. For a fraction of a moment I’m completely gutted when she strokes his bare arm as they speak. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that someone like him would have a girl. I simply expected at the very least he’d hold out for someone who shops in the adult department.

  Tensing, James removes her hand. The harsh look he throws her would indicate if they are in fact together, there’s trouble in paradise. I would venture to guess it has everything to do with his inability to cope with everything that’s happened.

  “It was a waste of time to come here,” Evelyn grumbles. “He’s not in any shape to talk.” Turning in Charlie’s arms, she faces him with a defeated sigh. “Let’s go check into the hotel. I’m exhausted.”

  With a shake of my head, I touch her arm. “Give me a moment. I’ll sort this out.”

  Head held high, I start for where James steps into a pair of low-cut running pants while the blonde becomes visibly agitated at his side. “This shit isn’t healthy!” she snarls, locking her hands on her hips. “You can’t take your anger out on people who are trying to help you!”

  Arms crossed, I stop two feet away from her. “And why not?” I demand. “Who are you to discredit someone’s feelings? Unless you’re his head doctor, I’d suggest you give the man room to deal in whatever way he sees fit.”

  For a moment they both stare back at me, slack-jawed, until the blonde’s unremarkable features storm over. “Who am I? I’m his girlfriend. Who the fuck are you?”