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SOMEONE knocked on the door. Lyle jumped. I tried not to scream.
He pulled the gun out of the back of his pants and stared at the door like there was a monster behind it. I sincerely hoped it wasn’t Hagen. I’d been kicking myself for the last couple hours for texting him in code. I’d wanted to be saved. I hadn’t wanted to make Hagen walk into a bullet.
Lyle flipped the deadbolt.
I stood up quietly and bent down so I could step over my zip-tied hands. If something was about to happen, I didn’t want to be stuck with my hands behind my back.
When we had pulled up to his dingy little duplex, he’d carried my purse and phone in one hand and kept a gun trained on me with the other. He’d ushered me inside the stuffy home and then put zip ties around my wrists as a “precaution.”
I glanced around the room for something to use as a weapon, but unless I learned how to kill someone with a pen—Jason Bourne style—then I was out of luck.
Lyle opened the door a few inches, but it was enough that I could see who stood on the other side.
“You!” he yelled.
Before I had a chance to warn Hagen, Lyle swung the door open and fired three shots.
I screamed, imagining Hagen’s body riddled with bullets. Lyle stepped back behind the door and yelled, “Get inside!”
Hagen stepped through the door, and I sobbed with relief. “He shot you.”
Lyle slammed and bolted the door. He swung around and pointed his gun at Hagen. “Sit down.”
Hagen started to sit next to me, but Lyle stopped him.
“No, not there. You sit over there.” He motioned across the room, and I scanned Hagen for any signs of a bullet wound. There wasn’t any visible blood, and he was walking as easily as usual.
He gave me a wink before he crossed to the other side and sat on a faded black futon. I wondered who Lyle had been shooting at since I didn’t see any wounds on Hagen.
“Lyle, this isn’t something you want to do. You’d better just let us go and we can forget this whole thing.”
Lyle kept the gun pointed in Hagen’s direction as he ran a hand through his hair. “Shut up.”
“Man, it’s hot in here. Did your air conditioner quit?” Hagen pointed at Lyle’s chest that was soaked with sweat.
“None of your business.”
“You know, I’m pretty handy with fixing stuff. I could take a look at it and get it working again.”
Lyle grabbed the gun with two hands and shook it in Hagen’s direction. “I said, shut up!”
I tried to work my hands loose from the zip ties. With sweaty wrists, it was getting easier to slip the zip ties farther up my hands. Not that I knew what I was going to do with free hands, but I didn’t want Hagen to be facing a psychotic gunman alone.
I couldn’t believe how I’d missed all the signs that pointed to Lyle. His obsession with being near me at work. His endless questions about my personal life. His observance.
He’d spent the last hour detailing his obsession with me. He even showed me albums on his laptop of all the pictures he’d taken of me over the past couple months. He talked about his plans for our future and our life together. I’d had an overwhelming urge to vomit. Something was not right in his mind.
“Be quiet and let me think.” Lyle began pacing back and forth, keeping a constant eye on Hagen and ignoring me. Too bad that superhero strength was still evading me. When I got back to the gym, I was going to take a weights class from Jason.
Ten minutes later, Lyle was sitting on the couch next to me, tapping the gun against his leg. I still didn’t know what he’d been shooting at out the door, and I didn’t want to ask. I was afraid it might set him off again.
Lyle stood up and peeked out the curtains. He cursed quietly. “This isn’t what I wanted to happen.” He waved the gun at Hagen. “Stand up.”
“Thank goodness; my leg was starting to fall asleep. How do you sit on that thing? It’s got to be the most uncomfortable couch in the world.”
Hagen’s laid-back attitude was nearly making me cry. Having him here with me in this situation was giving me enough strength to not have a complete breakdown.
Lyle stood up straight. “My mom gave it to me.”
“I know of a great little furniture shop—”
“Shut up!” Lyle screamed. His forehead was turning an unnatural shade of red. “You’re making this so much easier on me. Kneel down.”
“I’m not going to be able to fix that air conditioning unit if I’m kneeling down.” Hagen shrugged one shoulder as if it were his one goal in life to fix that AC unit.
“Kylie, grab your purse. We’re leaving,” Lyle said to me with a twisted smile. I thought he had meant for it to be reassuring, but all I saw was an unhinged man waving a gun at the man I loved.
I glanced around for anything I could have used to distract Lyle long enough for Hagen to get away, but I doubted Hagen was the type to leave me behind.
I walked to my purse sitting on the small shelf. He hadn’t let me touch it since he forced me into his car. I thought he was afraid I carried a flare signal in there. When I grasped the handle of my giant bag, I remembered what I did have in there. It wasn’t a flare signal, but Jenny really had left me some things to defend myself: bear spray, a collapsible baton, and brass knuckles.
God bless Jenny and her sense of overkill.
The bear spray would have been a bad idea in a small room. We would have all suffered the consequences. Punching people wasn’t exactly my forte—that was more of a Jenny move.
But if I could open the baton, I could at least knock the gun out of his hand.
“Get on your knees now!” Lyle yelled at Hagen as he peeked through the curtain again.
Hagen slowly complied, and Lyle walked over to stand between me and Hagen. I watched in horror as he leveled his gun at the back of Hagen’s head.
He was going to kill him, execution style.
This was not how I had envisioned my Friday going when I climbed out of bed this morning. I had wanted to initiate “Operation Convince Hagen We’re Meant to Be,” not “Operation Try to Keep Hagen Alive.”
“You really don’t want to do this, man,” Hagen said.
I fumbled around in my purse until I found the baton. Lyle didn’t even turn around. The zip ties cut into my wrists as I tried to extend it. I shook it.
Lyle looked back and forth between Hagen’s head and the window that he couldn’t see out of.
I found a button on the end of the baton and pushed it. It extended with a soft sigh. Thank goodness it wasn’t armed with a blaring siren or a built-in whistle.
“I didn’t want to do this,” Lyle told Hagen in a strained voice.
I brought the baton above my head and swung it down on him right where his shoulder met his neck. His reflex made his arm fold up, bringing the gun up in the air, away from Hagen’s head.
Lyle let out a scream that would have put Jordan to shame.
Pulling back, I took a swing at the back of his legs. Hagen jumped out of the way and grabbed the gun from Lyle’s hands as he toppled over.
“Good grief, woman. You’ve got a heck of a swing.”
Hagen wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his left side. He kept the pistol trained on Lyle, who lay on the ground, cradling his shoulder.
Hagen backed us up closer to the window and opened the curtains with his gun hand. I didn’t think Lyle would attempt to take on Hagen without a weapon, but I was glad when Hagen pointed the weapon back in Lyle’s direction.
I had always been a little intimidated by guns. In fact, after Lyle had pulled that one on me in the parking lot, I’d been downright terrified. But with Hagen holding the pistol, I felt safe. I forgot all about why I was terrified of guns. As a matter of fact, I was pretty glad we had that gun right then.
Hagen slid the window open and yelled outside. “Hey, Rick, I think it’s okay to come in now!”
The front door slammed inward, and three police officers I didn’t recognize stormed into the living room with their guns drawn. One of them cuffed Lyle and pulled him up to stand while reading him his rights.
Rick followed them inside, along with the older detective, Jim, who helped on the night Lyle broke into my house.
Rick stepped over and held out a bag for Hagen to place the pistol in.
Hagen reluctantly removed his arm from my shoulder, and I had to pry my fingers loose from where I hung on to his t-shirt.
Jim pulled out a knife and cut the zip tie from my wrists.
The second my wrists were free, Hagen spun me around, pulled me into his arms, and kissed me square on the mouth, his strong hands on my back and shoulders, lending me his strength. His kiss reminded me that I had something to look forward to in the midst of this mess.
Someone cleared their throat.
Hagen pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on mine. He brushed his hand along the side of my head, gently pushing my hair behind my ear.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” he whispered.
Rick came up behind Hagen and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, there will be time for that later. Right now, I have a report to file.”
Hagen turned to glare at him. “You have the worst timing.”
Rick grinned. “I know. Why don’t we go outside while you tell us what happened? It’s a little too hot in here.”
With a nod, I followed him out the door with Hagen right behind me, his hand resting on my lower back. I couldn’t get out of that duplex fast enough.
The questions that followed were a little bit too much of deja vu from the last time I talked to Jim and Rick. I told them everything that happened, beginning with me pulling into work, to sitting in Lyle’s house when Hagen knocked.
I told him how Lyle had admitted to following me and breaking into my house because he was jealous. It was embarrassing to share that part. Lyle told me that when he saw my cactus on the counter, he’d gotten angry at my deception. He wanted me to feel hurt the same way I had hurt him.
Hagen reassured me about fifty times that none of this was my fault. I hated to remind him that it was my text that brought him to Lyle’s and almost got him killed.
When the police finally finished with their questioning, Rick dropped us off at Hagen’s truck downtown. Hagen drove us back home. He backed into my driveway and walked around to open my door for me.
I felt like my mind was still stuck on a merry-go-round.
Lyle had stalked me.
Lyle kidnapped me.
Lyle tried to kill Hagen.
The same thoughts played on a circular loop in my head like a flashing billboard.
Hagen unlocked my door with his key and shut the alarm off before he led me into the kitchen. He rummaged through my junk drawers and pulled out the first aid kit. It almost felt like the last time he had done this, right after I biffed it with the snake—the fake snake. Except, this time, I knew Hagen. I knew the type of man he was.
Hagen shook his head as he held my wrists under the faucet and gently cleaned off the dried blood. “When I realized what had happened, I almost lost my mind.”
I nodded. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, I would start balling. My wrists were chafed from where the zip ties had dug into my skin. Future note to self: zip ties are stronger than my skin, and no amount of pulling or twisting will change that fact.
Hagen continued. “When he was waving his gun around, I was so afraid you were going to get hurt.”
I hiccupped, and the tears started to fall. Hagen shut off the water and wrapped my wrists with a soft kitchen towel before he ushered me into the living room. He sat down on the couch and gently pulled me onto his lap. He wrapped his strong arms around me and rested his chin on my head.
I stopped fighting the tears. Crying allowed me to release the terror, relief, and shock. I hadn’t thought it was possible to experience all of those emotions at the same time. Hagen rubbed his hand in small circles on my back.
I didn’t know how long we sat like that, but I knew that I went through all stages of ugly crying before I grabbed some tissues off the coffee table and tried to clean up my face. My voice shook when I spoke. “I was so scared that he was going to shoot you.”
Hagen snorted. “You do realize that you were the one who got kidnapped and held hostage today? Yet, your first worry was that I might be killed.” He pressed a kiss against my temple and tucked me close to his side.
“When he made you kneel down, it was like I saw you lying there dead already. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
“Well, you saved my life. You know what that means, don’t you?”
I shook my head, and he smiled.
“In some cultures, when you save someone’s life, that person becomes indebted to you for the rest of their life. Sometimes, they even become their servant. So, I guess you’re looking at your new man slave.”
I laughed, and then Hagen laughed with me, and then we were both laughing hysterically. “Imagine all of the honey-do chores I would give you. I would happily never touch a tool again.”
He pressed his lips together. “I hope you know I’m serious. When I thought about losing you, I couldn’t handle it. I don’t ever want to lose you. I want to try and be everything you deserve.”
“You’re an idiot.”
He jerked back like I’d slapped him.
“I love you exactly how you are. I don’t want you to change.”
His face relaxed into a smile. “You mean that, don’t you?”
“Yes. I think you’re amazing right now, and I love getting to be around you.”
“You love me.”
My cheeks warmed. Had I let that slip out? I meant to make him feel good about himself, not scare him away with my feelings.”
“I think I like that.”
I ran a hand over my face and groaned. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at me. “You made things weird when you threatened to shove me in your trashcan. I think telling me that you love me is the least of your worries.”
I studied the ceiling and wondered what it would look like if I painted it navy.
“Why did you change the lock on my garbage can?” I had to ask. Really, if he hadn’t done that, we never would have stepped into a full-on prank war and fallen for each other.
He traced his fingers up and down my arm. “There was this look in your eye. The day you stood on your porch and laughed about locking me out of your garbage can. You looked so full of life, so happy about doing something like that. I knew I had to get to know you more. I had hoped you would stand up to me. I liked seeing that spark in your eye. I think it helped me rediscover the happiness in life that I’d been missing out on this last year.”
I leaned closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder.
“You know I love you too, Kylie. That’s why I wanted to stay away. I’m never going to be different than who I am. I wanted the best for you. I didn’t want Brooke or my own insecurities to come between us. I needed that distance to clear up everything with Brooke. I needed her completely out of our lives so she couldn’t hurt you. I needed my family to know the truth so that I could move forward with what I felt for you.”
I looked at him. “Don’t you realize you are the best for me? I love you. You. Not some stupid job or money. All that stuff isn’t important. I love the guy who shuts off my water and leaves fake snakes in my shower—okay, maybe not that one. I love the guy who just marched into a house with an armed madman to save me. Good grief, I’d be crazy not to love someone who’s willing to do that.”
He grinned and leaned down to kiss my head and whispered, “I thought I was going to pee my pants.”
“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever told me.”
He smiled. “I love you, Kylie. You didn’t give up on me, even when I tried to push you away. I even forgive you for shooting me with the paintball gun.”
“That’s pretty big of you.”
“I know. I’m a class act like that.”
Without warning, he leaned down and pressed is mouth against mine. Grasping the sides of my face, he tilted his head to the side so he could kiss me deeper. One hand moved around to my lower back. My breath caught as he pulled me tight against his chest. He didn’t act like he was going to stop anytime soon.
I ran both my hands through his messed-up hair, wanting him closer. Wanting to know that he was mine. Wanting to know I could tease, and tug, and love him. Wanting to show him exactly how I felt with our kiss.
I conveyed all these things with action, and he responded in the same language.