Controlled Burn (Blackbridge Security 8)

My horrible choice in men brought me to this point, and that damage, all the pain Ty caused, made me push away a deserving man.

I’m fighting a battle in my head, trying to determine what’s honestly worse—never having met Ty, meaning I wouldn’t have my children, or this current situation where three innocent children die because of my choices.

I’m choking on sobs, my entire body convulsing when the door to the room opens. Let them kill me or rape me. I couldn’t care less at this point. They’ve taken from me the only things that matter. I’m fucking numb to the rest of it.

Hands roam over me, and that fight instinct I thought I’d lost kicks in. I smack at the touch, crying out when I use my right hand to defend myself. The man who abducted me forced me to drive to the ATM earlier while he hid in the back seat to make sure I didn’t just take off and leave. I was able to get a good look at my wrist, and it’s clearly broken. Pain shoots up my arm and I try to curl into myself once again, the pain making my stomach swim with nausea.

“Baby, stop. You’re safe.”

My eyes flutter open, so sure this is another dream, and I feel my lips smile, my uninjured hand reaching up to cup Finn’s scruffy jaw. His green eyes shine with tears, making me realize it really must be a dream. A man as tough as Finnegan Jenkins doesn’t cry. He’s not one to shed tears for any reason. He’s too tough for that.

“Your wrist,” he says, cupping the injury softly in his huge hands.

I look down at myself, noting the blues and purples have made their way up my fingers.

“Doesn’t matter,” I whisper, my voice broken and pained.

“Sweetheart,” he says, pulling me to his chest and being careful not to hurt me further.

This is only half of what I need, and I hate that my dreams are betraying me right now.

“My babies,” I sputter, my heart in pieces inside the very core of me.

“They were at the office, but it got late so Wren and Whitney took them back to their place.”

I nod against him. At least he’s not telling me that they’re in purgatory.

“Let’s get you up.”

I comply, trying to get to my feet, but I’m weighed down with the guilt of what I’ve let happen. It wouldn’t surprise me if this man was sent to drag me to hell.

I use my hands to push up to standing, only to fall back, screaming in pain.

“Fuck, Kendall. Let me help you.”

My eyes snap to him, Finn’s jaw clenching as he reaches for me.

“Finn?” I blink at him, my eyes hazy from the pain in my wrist, but somehow clearer than it was a few minutes ago. “You’re here?”

“I’m here, baby. Did they hurt more than your wrist? You seem a little—”

“They hurt my kids,” I confess. “And it’s all my—”

“The kids are fine, Kendall.”

I shake my head, knowing what I heard, and this man lying to me is the cruelest thing I can think of. I try to pull away, but he doesn’t allow it.

“Baby,” he says, pulling me against him and reaching into his pocket for his phone.

I sob loudly, uncaring for the other people I sense in the room at our backs.

“Put them on,” he snaps when the call connects.

There’s shuffling.

“Look,” Finn snaps, hitching his shoulder to get me to lift my head from it. “Look, Kendall.”

My tears fall even more when I look at the screen. There in a bed are my children. Knox even has his little blue dinosaur clutched to his chest.

“Glad you’re okay, sweetheart,” Wren says, turning the phone so I can see his face instead of it being a monster looking after my children.

“They’re okay?” I ask as Finn hangs up the phone and pockets it.

“They’re fine.,” he assures me. “A little worried about you, but healthy. The guy who took them—”

“The man with the dragon tattoo,” I clarify.

“That man picked them up from school and immediately dropped them off at the park. They were there unsupervised for a few hours, but a concerned citizen called it into the police. The police called us, and they were at the office all evening until shortly after you visited the ATM.”

I nod, trying to absorb everything he’s telling me, but my heart is stuck on the fact that my kids haven’t been hurt. They’re safe, tucked into bed at Finn’s friend’s condo.

“I need to go to them,” I insist, trying to shove past him to move toward the door.

I gasp when I naturally use my right hand. The pain is unbearable.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” Finn argues.

“My kids, Finn.”

“Baby,” he says, turning me in his arms and forcing my eyes up to his. “We have to make sure you’re okay.”