Controlled Burn (Blackbridge Security 8)

“Gotta head out,” Wren says after typing something on his phone. “Needed at the office.”

The kids hug the two of them like they’re not going to see them for a long time, and it makes me wonder just how much damage was done to them yesterday.

I wave my goodbye from the kitchen, darting to the boys’ bedroom the second the door shuts.

“What are you doing?” Kason asks, standing in the doorway.

“We’re going on a trip.”

“Will we be back by Saturday? We have school tomorrow.” His eyes narrow on me when I look up at him after zipping up the last suitcase.

“It’ll be fun,” I tell him, avoiding the question. “Let me pack my things, and then we can go.”

Kason watches me the entire time as I leave the room and pull out my own suitcase. Leaving and then asking Finn to ship me what I left behind would be incredibly selfish, so I spend more time stuffing my sentimental things into my suitcase. All the other stuff can be replaced. I work through a list in my head, knowing I’ll have to go to the bank to withdraw my money, and it makes me even angrier about the guys from last night. That money was taken into evidence, and although I was assured I would get it back, that won’t happen before I leave town.

Cutting ties with St. Louis means not ever looking this direction again. I have to consider that money gone.

“All done,” I tell Kason as I pull my suitcase from the bed. “Time to go.”

Looking a little stunned, Knox and Kayleigh are already standing near their suitcases at the front door. Kason isn’t happy, and he makes that clear when he wraps his hand around the handle to his own suitcase, but he doesn’t argue with me.

“Okay, my loves. Let’s go on an adventure.”

I shuffle them from the condo, praying no one comes up here, considering I left the door key on the kitchen counter.

I turn, pulling the door closed, and cuss under my breath when I realize I haven’t pulled my suitcase far enough out.

“Can you take this? It’s heavy,” Kason complains.

“Just a second,” I mutter, trying to maneuver my case.

“I think Momma forgot about you because she didn’t pack anything of yours but an old t-shirt.”

I freeze, as it dawns on me that she isn’t talking to me. Finn is behind me; I just know it.

With guilt clogging my throat, I turn to face him. I won’t apologize for taking his shirt. It seemed like a necessity at the time, and I know I’ll be grateful to have it to cry into at night after the kids go to bed.

He doesn’t say a word as he watches my face, and I find it impossible to look away from him either.

He doesn’t look angry or upset. His face is just blank. It hurts to see him this way.

“Carry those things back inside, kids. Door Dash is bringing chicken nuggets.”

The little betrayers cheer, pushing past me to reenter the condo.

I step out of their way, looking down at Kason when he walks back out and grabs the handle of my suitcase.

“I’m sorry,” I tell Finn after the door closes at my back.

“For what?” he asks, his voice filled with more emotion than what’s on his face. “For leaving? For taking what you did this morning, knowing this was your plan?”

I can’t even deny it because the man is right.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “For all of it. I have to go.”

“You don’t,” he argues.

“I do.”

“You’re safe, Kendall. The kids are safe.”

“I wish that were true.”

“I swear on my life, you’re safe.”

“I know that’s what you want, but we won’t ever truly be safe. Getting out of St. Louis is the closest we’ll get.”

He steps into me, cupping my jaw in both hands. “I took care of it, baby. You’re safe.”

I blink up at him, tears ready to stream down my face, and I fight them, knowing if they fall, they may never stop. It’s taken all I have already today not to cry in front of my kids, Whitney, and Wren.

His truth is right there in his eyes, and he’s completely open for me, wanting me to see it.

“What did you do?” I whisper.

“I had to protect you.”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“I gave Larrick, Ty.”

Four words, spoken with a simplicity that belies the weight of what he’s saying.

I know exactly what he’s telling me. I know the outcome.

I feel nothing.

There’s no pain, no regret, no second thought.

I was faced with thinking my kids were dead last night. All of it was on Ty’s head. The love I had for the man turned into hatred long ago.

“That’s going to be a very difficult conversation with the kids,” I whisper.

“It will be,” he says. “And we can do it together.”

“Together,” I repeat, the word sliding across my lips with unfamiliarity. “How do you know it’s over?”