"Kylie!"
She falls to the ground, her head falling back and striking the rock. I sprint toward her, sliding beside her, reaching for her.
Her arms spread out, but her legs awkwardly cross over each other. The bullet from John's gun hit her shoulder. Blood runs down her arm. I rip open my shirt, sending the buttons flying in all directions, and place it over the small hole. I’m applying pressure, knowing I can't stop the bleeding but maybe I can slow it some.
"Jake," I call out, glancing over my shoulder to find him.
He's kneeling over Sysco's still body, and I can only hope the fucker is dead.
"Get over here. Kylie's been shot."
I place my hand under her head. Stickiness coats my fingers. I look at the ground, and for the first time, notice the blood pooling. My stomach twists into knots, dread shrouding my body.
Jake kneels next to Kylie on the opposite side from me. "I called nine-one-one, and they have Life Flight coming in for Kylie. Thomas is waiting for them and will escort them here as soon as they land."
He lifts my hand from Kylie's shoulder and surveys the damage. The advantage of hiring a former Navy Seal corpsman and local cop as head of security is that he has a cool head, a medical background in triage, and can pull strings with the police department.
"Jesus," Jake murmurs when he sees the hand I've just withdrawn from behind Kylie's head.
"She's unconscious," I say, my chest constricting. "Has been since I got to her."
Jake leans over, and I move back, so he can get a better look.
"Pretty nasty gash." He leans into her face, turning his head so that his cheek is close to her mouth. "Breathing sounds decent. Slow, not too labored." He presses his fingers into the side of her neck, and stills for a moment. "Pulse is good."
He pulls the polo shirt over his head and hands it to me. I put it under Kylie's head. Blood quickly saturates it. We sit there, both in what were once clean, white undershirts that are now smeared with Kylie's blood.
Jake repositions himself and checks her shoulder again. I place my free hand on Kylie's cheek and slightly turn her face toward me.
"Don't move her, Alex," Jake commands, sounding more like a drill sergeant than my head of security. "We can't risk it in case there's an injury to her neck. Any movement before they get a collar on her could result in some serious damage to her."
If it were any other man, I would have told him to fuck off and probably fired him. But this is Jake—the man I trust with my life. More importantly, the man I trust with Kylie's life.
I look at her face. She looks at peace, like she's sleeping. Leaning over, I close my eyes and kiss her cheek. It's warm, soft, and a lump forms in my throat.
Damn this woman. I don't do this. I don't get emotionally involved. And I don't cry.
Except I am one hundred percent emotionally invested in her.
That asshole, Sysco, was right about one thing. Kylie is a force of nature. She has demanded my attention, invaded my thoughts and my dreams, made me want to plan my future with her. She has from the moment I met her. And I will be damned if I let her go now.
I know what life is without her. It isn't a life. It is a series of meetings and dinners and women who I fuck and forget. It's nothing.
Life with her has meaning and purpose. I look forward to the days and the nights, from waking up with her by my side to falling asleep with her in my arms. Her beautiful smile takes my breath away. Her smart mouth makes me laugh like I haven't in years. Her stubbornness frustrates the hell out of me.
I want it all—the good, the bad, the pain in the ass, and even the loss of control over my life. The very thing that defined me is now replaced by the woman who forced me to deal with my demons and accept that I am in love.
And I'm in deep, too. She has me. And I don't fear the unknown or the vulnerability because I trust her with my life, my heart, my sanity.
My lips are close to her ear, and I whisper, "Baby, please don't go. Please don't leave me. You promised me, Kylie. You promised you would never leave me." I lightly brush my lips against hers.
Fear washes over me. Pain that I haven't felt since I was a child ravages my body. Not since that night, so many years ago, have I been this afraid of what will come. I watched as my mother slipped away from me, and I fear history might repeat itself.
I barely survived my mother's death. There's no way Kylie will pass away without me following her. I will not live without her.
The whir of a helicopter in the distance breaks the silence. I glance up and then over at Jake.
He has a scowl on his face, and deep lines crease his forehead. He swivels his head toward where John Sysco's body lies, and I turn to look at the man.
"He dead?" I ask, knowing it's the only answer that will give me any peace right now.
"No," Jake mutters, "at least not when I left him. He's in bad shape, but I think he'll hang in there until the paramedics come for him."
I look over at Jake. "If Kylie doesn't make it, neither does he."
The helicopter circles over our heads before disappearing behind the trees. Within minutes, Thomas appears with three men carrying a basket stretcher and other medical supplies. Two of the men rush toward us while the third stops to check on the asshole who I hope has taken his last breath while we’ve been waiting for help.
The paramedics move next to Kylie. One rapidly fires questions. The other kneels, bumping into me and effectively pushing me away. Jake is answering their questions, speaking to them in their own lingo. I turn to push the paramedic away, needing to be close to Kylie, to protect her.
Jake's hand is on my shoulder. "Alex, let them take over. They can help her."
I rise. He’s right but I hate not being with her. We move out of their way, but I keep my eyes locked on her.
Thomas is standing on the other side of Jake, speaking into a walkie-talkie. "The ambulance is here as well as the police," he informs us.
It doesn't take long for them to swoop in, demanding answers, suspiciously looking at us.
"Mr. Stone." Sergeant Reyes steps into my line of vision.
I nearly knock him on his ass. I sidestep him, returning my sight to Kylie and the medics who continue to work on her. They've placed a thick, white collar around her neck, but it's now streaked with her blood from the cut on the back of her head. Her legs are straight, and they are placing an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.
"Mr. Stone." Reyes's voice is sterner this time.
The hairs on my neck stand on end, and I move my eyes over to him for a moment, hoping they convey to the fucker that I'm not in the mood for him or his bullshit right now.
"I need you to tell me what happened."
"Tell you what happened? You fuckers let that prick go!" I point over at Sysco. "And he shot Kylie. That's what fucking happened."
I turn my attention back to Kylie. One of the paramedics is on his cell phone while the other is inserting an IV into her arm. Her eyes are still closed, but she no longer looks at peace. Her face is white, and her lips, normally full and pink, are now thin and turning blue. My heart races, and a cold wind rushes through me.
"I'm going to need more specifics than that, Mr. Stone," Reyes says.
I hate this guy. I want to punch him so hard that blood spurts out of his broken nose. I want him unconscious on the ground, so I can focus on Kylie and not his need for fucking specifics.
"Start from the beginning."
I glare at him, but he stands still. I talk fast, knowing they'll be moving Kylie to the helicopter soon, and this asshole of a cop is not going to detain me. I'm going with Kylie, period.
"I went into town this morning to get Kylie her favorite muffins from a bakery downtown. She was asleep when I left. By the time I returned home, she had woken up and gone for a run."
"Was this her normal routine?" Reyes asked. "And how did you discover she had gone for a run?"
"She usually runs in the morning, but she hasn't done it for some time since that asshole, who should be in jail right now, started stalking her. This was the first morning she felt safe enough to go for a run—even on my property—since the last time she went for a run along this path, she was sent a dead cat in the mail. When I got back home Jake told me where she had gone. They had a discussion before she left the house."
"Okay, go ahead." Reyes crosses his arms over his chest.
That overwhelming need to knock the crap out of him makes my hands curl into fists at my sides. "I hadn't been in the house long when I got a call from the DA, stating Sysco had made bail. I hung up with him, and Jake and I immediately started searching for Kylie.
"We made it halfway across the backyard when we heard a gunshot and took a shortcut through the woods to where we thought we'd heard it come from. We came out of the trees and saw Sysco with a gun pointed at Kylie. I told Sysco to let Kylie go. He went into some fucking tirade about how he was going to kill me, but then he changed his mind. Said he wanted Kylie with him forever, and then he shot her. Jake shot Sysco when he tried to turn the gun on me."
Reyes stares at me.
The little prick.
He twists at his waist, looking over at Kylie now. I want to yell at him to get his fucking eyes off of her. He has no right to look at her after the shit he has put her through. She's in this situation because Reyes and the rest of them didn't do their jobs. They let Sysco out, and he came after her.
"Shit!" one of the paramedics yells.
Kylie is on the ground, her body convulsing.
"She's going into shock."
I push past Reyes. His eyes are wide as he watches the activity around Kylie. I fall to the ground at her feet, needing to touch her but keeping out of the fray. Jake comes up behind me with Carter, the cop who was interviewing him, just over his shoulder.
The other medic is back on the phone, talking quickly, "Patient has gone into hypovolemic shock. Blood pressure is ninety over sixty. Heart rate is weakening. Pulse is fifty."
Jake lets out an exhale and groans slightly. I don't need to look at him to know this is bad. The seizure has stopped, but she is lying still.
Too still.
The paramedics are suddenly gathering up equipment and lining the basket up next to Kylie's body. One points at me and tells me to hold her legs together and try not to jostle her around. Carter and Jake have her midsection while the paramedics stabilize her shoulders and head.
"Let's lift her. Don't rush it. Go slow and steady. We don't want to cause any further damage, if we can avoid it. Three, two, one, lift."
We settle her into the basket, and they strap her in. I climb into the helicopter, not giving a damn whether or not I'm actually allowed to or not. Fuck them. I'm not leaving her. I sit on the small seat next to the paramedic, staring at her. There's no change to her expressionless face. Her eyes are still closed. She looks so pale and weak, and I feel like she is slipping away from me.
And just like with my mother, there is not a damn thing I can do about it.
I hope you enjoyed Malevolent. Kylie & Alex’s story continues in Revenge.
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