Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter Fifty-Three

Isabella

I’m incredibly grateful that the doorman of Carter’s penthouse apartment uses their master key to open the door for me to go into his place. I don’t see Donovan or Jacob, but I lock the door behind me either way and fumble into the bedroom Carter said was mine.

My legs are trembling underneath my weight, and my mind is weighed down heavily by the ugly sight of Paul getting shot in my apartment and Sam hurting herself on the fall from the fire escape. I whimper into my lap, biting back heavy lapses of sobs in the furthest corner of my closet, fearing that the Lacey family will find me back here.

The light flickers on overhead, and I cringe, yelping out in perpetual fear, but Carter’s kind touch lifts my face from my arms, pulling me to see his familiar, crisp eyes.

“Easy, dove. It’s just me.”

I stammer to inhale through my many cries. “Jacob was… and William in the truck… th-they killed Paul, and then I had… had to leave—”

“Shh,” he purrs, pulling me from the floor while he looks over the tatters of my clothes for injuries. “Listen to me, Bella. You’re safe now. I promise. Jacob scampered off when I got to the lobby, and Donovan is in the living room now. He’s on our side still, okay? But if I don’t work things out with him soon, he might not be.”

My eyes drift down his palms which eventually release my bruised cheeks, and I step back in disgust. His hands and knuckles are marked with terrible, bloody scratches and wounds so deep that I can’t understand how he’s not expressing more pain.

“You… you hurt Tristan, didn’t you?”

“Don’t worry about him,” he says simply. “I will never let anyone speak to you like he did. I saw and heard the whole conversation and the incident on video. I went there for peace, but not after what he said.”

I stammer to inhale through my wailing cries. “Did you kill him?”

“He’s alive,” he says, almost resentfully. “He took his punishment without refusal. Even Tristan knows he really put us in a bad spot. That’s why I need to make things right with Donovan, or we’re going to have two powerful families pissed off with me, dove.”

I shake my head and sink my fingers into his shirt, afraid that if he pulls away, something worse will happen, and I’ll be alone again. Every fear and concern drowns me at once, and I gasp for air, my chest broken like I’ve been kicked right in the center of my collarbone.

“Carter, please,” I beg, weeping inconsolably in the middle of my closet with this powerful, beautiful man who seems untouchably fearless. “You have to go get Sam and… and check on Paul. My father, too. What if Jacob sent someone to… to hurt my dad?”

“I’m going to handle all of that. I have the rest of my family coming up from the Bronx. We’re going to end this war, but I have to go talk to Donovan, or it will only get worse. When we’re done here, I’ll take you to a house of mine upstate where it’s safe. I’ll make sure your dad and Sam are fine before we leave.”

I finally feel relieved with that assurance, and I let his shirt go. He motions for me to follow, and I do, stuck in the doorway outside the living room where Donovan is pacing the length of the couch. I hang back, unable to move any closer, my eyes still welled with terrified tears.

Donovan nods toward me in some kind of solidarity, but I still don’t trust him. Never mind my apprehension, Carter greets him easily, and they both take their seats apart from one another. Carter keeps his eyes on me the whole time, my gasping and whimpering tears probably annoying, but he doesn’t mention it.

“Thanks for looking after her outside,” Carter whispers. “I should have never left her side.”

“It’s all good. I want to make sure you fix the altercation you had with Micah, or it’s going to get worse, Blackthorne. He has mentioned Jacob already. If he wants to shift the family to Lacey’s side of things, your chunk of cash won’t save anyone.”

Carter nods, unbothered. “I’ll invite him to the gala fundraiser in two days,” he says lightly. “He can meet Frances, and we might be able to slip away and do some business.”

I scoff internally.

He just told me we will go upstate to hide out and be safe, but now he’s saying we’re still going to some damn fundraiser for that horrible mayor? In comparison to the events of today and some lousy fundraiser, I can’t imagine there being much of a choice between the priority.

I turn my back to him, wiping my cheeks as they leak fresh tears. Carter will probably be furious with me again for walking away from him, his eyes digging holes into my spine, but I escape back into the bathroom and fill the tub with hot water, needing to temper my numb muscles.

Burying myself in the soapy bathwater takes out the ache in my body, but I see flickers of Paul being shot in the back of my mind, the gruesome scene replaying over and over again.

“Dove,” Carter pants, kneeling by the bathtub, and I hadn’t even noticed it. He tucks my hair behind my ear and forces a stale grin across his face. “Why are you still crying?”

I wipe my cheeks, realizing he’s right. “I… I saw it happen… Paul didn’t do anything to deserve that, and then I left Sam behind. What happens if—”

“Enough of this topic, dove. Please. You’re going to exhaust yourself.”

I pull free of his touch that lingers on my shoulder lightly, and his brows knit in response. I can’t get over what he told Donovan before I left the room. How could we wait until after the fundraiser to leave? Jacob Lacey is planning something horrible, and it’s not safe for us here.

We need to leave, but how do I convince a soldier so dead set on war to avoid another battle?

“Move forward,” he says, standing to strip out of his clothes. He has a few bruises himself but nothing too terrible, sliding into the bath behind me where he pulls my back to rest against his muscular chest. “Do you want to talk about what Tristan said?”

Out of everything that I’ve seen today, every moment I’ve come close to death or a beating, I can’t say that Tristan’s verbal attack on me earlier was the best part of my day, but it also was not the worst.

It’s nearly two in the morning by the look of the clock on the far wall, but I don’t plan on sleeping soon. I might as well address this conversation briefly. Maybe he can clear up some of the berating insults his cousin whipped at me without warning.

“Did you hear all of it?”

He nods, his wet hands working to untangle my long, wavy hair. “I did. He had no reason to treat you like that, dove. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t warranted. He knows I fired him because he sent you to Jacob’s worksite, and he did it anyway. He just took it out on you.”

“It hurt my feelings,” I mumble, feeling like a child when I admit that. “He said you’d leave me if Jacob ever… if he ever actually…”

“I know, dove. I heard that too.” He tucks my hair behind my ear and holds me in the warm water. “He stepped over the line in everything he said. Tristan isn’t a good drunk, Bella. When he drinks too much, he says hateful things, but it went too far. Way too far.”

I hang my head in embarrassment. “He called me by her name.”

Carter goes taut behind me, pausing for a long, stagnant minute. “I know he did. He was punished for that as well. You don’t have to ever think about that again. It was so outlandish and disrespectful. He sees that now, dove. I promise.”

“How bad is he hurt?”

“You don’t need to ask those types of questions,” he purrs, kissing the back of my head lightly, minding the new sutures in my scalp. “I’ve got everything handled regarding Tristan. Our only issue now is Jacob.”

“Why can’t we skip the fundraiser and go hide out, Carter? It’s obviously not safe here anymore.”

“Because if Frances loses the election, it will be even more unsafe. We have law enforcement looking the other way so we can run international trade that would be otherwise banned and heavily regulated. If we misstep and he’s not the mayor, we will be the target of every government agency.”

I sulk in the bathtub at the thought of losing Carter to a bullet or losing him to a jail cell. Both are horrible and the last thing I want, so long as he’s alive, then I’ll be happy.

But I don’t know if I’ll ever be safe again.

“I will protect you,” he mumbles, as if he is in my mind, toying with my countless fears. “Today was the last day of our troubles. Jacob Lacey won’t live to see the end of the month. I promise.”

With that promise, I turn over in his arms, his lips instantly finding mine. We kiss deeply, needily, his hands gentle on my hips for once. He keeps his fingertips brushing across my skin, my hands daring to find more, but he stops the kiss first.

I open my eyes, confused, but he shakes his head instead of fighting to please me like he does so well.

“You’re too hurt,” he breathes, kissing my cheek. “You need rest, dove. You’ve been through too much today—more than I should have let happen. I won’t let it happen again.”

I nod and pray that he is telling the truth about that. Today was one of the worst days of my life and so incredibly hectic that I feel my body begging for sleep while my mind is wide awake. He stands out of the tub soon, pulling me with him.

“I’m exhausted,” I groan, my legs shivering under my weight. He wraps a towel around my body and carries me from the bathroom all the way to my bed, where he sets me down under the covers. I sink into the mattress and instantly have to fight falling asleep. “Carter… stay…”

“I will, dove,” he whispers, breathing a kiss into my forehead. “I have to make a few calls to make sure your father and Sam are okay. I will also send someone after Paul just in case he is still alive.”

I try to stay hopeful, but I’m not sure if that’s possible anymore. Paul is dead, Sam is wounded and probably kidnapped by a Lacey, while my father is off in his chaotic mind, unaware that his daughter’s dark life could end up getting him killed.

Carter may say none of this is my fault, but I know one thing is true.

This war just got a lot more complicated.