Breathe

Chapter Twenty-One Holding out for a Hero

There was movement at the other end of the bar and Chace watched a brunette leave the back hall and enter the common area from where the bathrooms were.

Faye had disappeared back there fifteen minutes ago and it was time to go home. It was time to go to bed. It was time to make love to his woman for the first time while she was wearing his ring on her finger.

Fifteen minutes was a long time for her to be gone. He was impatient. He wanted her alone. He wanted to keep dancing with her. He intended to dance with her until dawn but in a different way.

But the bar was packed which meant there could be a line at the women’s restroom.

He grabbed his beer, lifted it up, took a drag and on the way down his eyes caught on Tate.

Tate was just down the bar leaning two forearms into it, one hand curled around a bottle of beer. Laurie was at his side but she had an arm around his gut and her torso was draped over his back, leaning into Wendy who she was talking to and Chace couldn’t see Lauren but Wendy was laughing.

Tate’s woman might be draped over his back but his eyes were on Chace.

When he caught Chace’s he lifted his beer and he tipped it out as his lips twitched.

Chace knew what that salute meant.

Tate knew what Chace was feeling. Not finding the right woman but finding the only one, the perfect one, the one that was meant for you. Then putting your ring on her finger, claiming her and knowing she was yours, no one else would ever have her, your bed would never be cold, you’d always have someone at your side or taking your back.

Tate Jackson knew how good that felt. He knew what it meant. He knew how important it was. He knew there was nothing better in the world.

Chace lifted his chin to him then watched as Lauren shifted to say something in his ear. Tate’s eyes unfocused as he listened, his face got soft, his lips curved up then he turned his neck and Chace lost sight of him as he took his woman’s mouth.

Yeah. Tate Jackson knew how good it felt.

At that moment, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He pulled it out, not surprised it was vibrating even though it was late. Word was traveling fast. Well wishes were coming thick. Chace reckoned that day was significant for the town of Carnal. Ty Walker had moved onto the next step of good coming out of a life fucked by the men who’d fucked over the town. On the same day, Chace had too.

Chace looked down at his phone to see it was a text. He moved his thumb over the buttons to pull it up and when he saw it, his body went still.

We have Faye. As of now, she has four hours of air. You have that time to find and return the articles needed. If you don’t, we won’t tell you where to dig her out and she’ll run out of breath.

After reading it, his lungs burning, Chace moved swiftly from his position at the bar and shoved through the crowd toward the back hall. When he made it to the mouth, regardless of the heaving bar, he saw it was empty.

He moved down it to the women’s restroom.

He opened the door, a blonde at the sink turned and narrowed her eyes at him but he ignored her and called sharply, “Faye!”

“You cool, dude?” she asked.

He was absolutely not.

“Faye!” he clipped.

Nothing.

His eyes went to the blonde. “You seen a redhead in here?”

She looked at him and bent slightly to aim her eyes under the stalls, calling, “Any of you redheads?”

“Nope.”

“Not me.”

“He cute?”

None of them Faye.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Before she could answer, he swung out and moved quickly down the hall to the back and the emergency exit. He pushed the door open and heard no alarm. Outside in the alley there was no car, there was no one. There was nothing.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He moved up the hall, stopping at the mouth and tipping his head down to the phone.

Fifteen minutes, if they incapacitated her, had a car, they could be long gone.

He stared at his phone.

Four hours of air.

Chace kept staring at his phone.

Dig her out.

Chace continued to stare at his phone.

She’ll run out of breath.

Memories collided in his brain.

Faye staring at him the first time she did it with that wonder in her eyes, on the sidewalk outside La-La Land when he apologized for being a dick. He didn’t know it then but she did it because she had a crush on him and he was, also for the first time, close.

It affected her so much, just him being close, she stopped breathing.

So he’d whispered, Breathe, Faye.

And right before he wrapped her hand around his cock the first time they’d made love, she’d been holding her breath.

So he’d murmured, Breathe, baby.

And that very night when he’d put his ring on her finger.

Baby, he’d whispered, Breathe.

She’ll run out of breath.

Breathe.

“Chace?” Tate’s voice came at him from close, his head jerked up and when Tate saw him, his face went from questioning to alert. “Christ, man, what’s goin’ on?”

“They’ve got Faye,” he growled.

“Who?” Tate asked.

“The Elite,” Chace answered tersely, those two words raw and he didn’t see Tate’s chin jerk back. He was moving toward the door, pushing through the crowd, vaguely hearing Tate shout men’s names but his mind was scrambling.

Darren Newcomb was not a bud. Chace detested the man. He avoided him as best he could. He had no idea who he’d trust. He had no idea where he’d hide that shit. He had no idea who he might give it to.

“Fuck,” Chace hissed, pushing open the door and hitting buttons on his phone.

He stopped outside, hit reply then typed in, I’ll find it, you’ll get it but I’ll need more time and then he hit send.

“Chace, talk,” Tate ordered and Chace looked up to see Tate there with Bubba, Deke, Wood, Jim-Billy and Deck.

“There’s shit out there,” he told them.

“We know,” Tate replied. Always sharp, Tatum Jackson. He knew exactly what was going on.

“They want it. From their message it sounds like they’ve buried Faye somewhere. She’s got four hours for me to find that shit and get it to them or she runs out of air.”

“Buried her?” Deck growled, his big body tense, his mood drifting dangerously through the air and Chace shoved his phone to his friend who took it but suddenly it all came clear and his eyes sliced to Tate.

“Tate, call Max. Get him to get to George Nielson, find him, drag his ass out of bed if he has to and find out what he knows or if he can find out anything. Max isn’t up for that, I need a man to go to Gnaw Bone who is,” Chace ordered, Tate lifted up his chin and stepped away.

His phone chimed and Deck hit buttons, then his eyes came to Chace. “They said you got four hours, no more,” he told him, jaw hard, eyes glittering.

Chace looked at his friend. “That number, from the text, use your superpowers. Get a lock on it.” Deck nodded, stepped back and pulled out his own phone. Chace looked to Wood. “You call Ty. I know it’s shit on a night as good as tonight for him but we need to pull him in. He needs to connect with Dewey. Dewey knows everything about everyone. Get Ty to get Dewey on the move collecting intel. Dewey can find out or even has ideas, we need to know who may be in play and how they’ll play it.”

“Right, bud,” Wood muttered and stepped away.

Chace reached out and yanked his phone out of Deck’s hand then he took off running towards Faye’s apartment.

“Fuck! Where you goin’?” Bubba shouted at his back as he ran and hit buttons on his phone.

He put it to his ear and listened to it ring. It rang four times and he was about to disconnect in order to reconnect and wake that jackass up when he heard his father’s voice.

“Chace?”

“Dad –” he started, his breath heavy but Trane cut him off.

“It’s nearly two in the morning.”

“Shut the fuck up and listen. Your buddies lost patience. They’ve buried Faye alive. I got four hours to get the shit out there back to them or she runs out of air. Get your ass out of bed on the phone or in your car or fuckin’ both and find out where Faye is.”

“Buried alive?” Trane whispered as Chace took the turn into the alley toward Faye’s apartment hearing footfalls behind him.

“Every second you waste is a second of air she does not have,” Chace growled into the phone as he made the next turn into the back alley then he disconnected.

He sprinted up her steps hearing men taking them behind him. He yanked out his keys, opened the door and surged through. He ran straight to her desk, turned on the lamp there and hit the button for her computer.

“Brother, you gotta let us in on what’s goin’ on in your head so we can move out and find your girl,” Deck told him as Chace searched through the shit on Faye’s desk, yanking at it, his hands hitting shit he didn’t need, it falling to the floor unheeded then he found it. Her address book.

He stepped away from the computer and looked at Deck. “That boots up, call up her chat and see if you can engage a guy named Benji or someone that calls herself SerenityWash.”

He saw the other men all standing in Faye’s apartment, all of them on their phones then he bent his head and flipped through the address book.

Nothing on anyone named Benji. No entry with “SerenityWash”.

Fuck.

“Chace,” Tate called and Chace looked to him. “I’m goin’ to Newcomb’s sister.”

“Frank questioned her. She says she doesn’t know shit,” Chace told him.

“She says it but she might change her mind knowin’ someone’s buried alive so she might cough it up or she may know Newcomb enough to know where he hid it or who he gave it to then the boys can make the rounds,” Tate returned.

“Go,” Chace grunted and Tate went.

“Got Benji,” Deck told him, shifting away from the keyboard and Chace moved in.

Bending over it, he typed,

You got Chace. The Elite have got Faye. They want the shit out there or she runs out of air. You got an idea of who they would contract this shit to?

He got back, OMG! Runs out of air? What the frak does that mean?

He typed, Hold it together and think. I asked you a question. Answer it.

Benji replied, They communicate regularly with a man named Clinton Bonar.

Fuck.

Right.

Bonar.

Chace straightened, threw his phone to Deck and growled, “Bonar. Call him,” his eyes sliced to the men, “Find him.”

Bubba and Deke took off. Deck put the phone to his ear.

Chace went back to the keyboard.

What else? He asked.

I’m trying to engage Serenity. She was the one who found most of the stuff. But it looks like she’s off-line. Benji typed back.

You got contact info on her? Chace pushed.

No. Benji answered.

A real name? Chace went on.

Sorry, Chace, no. OMG.OMG. Benji was losing it.

Hold it together. You got anything? Chace returned.

Faye told us to forget it all, delete it. I did. I don’t know if Serenity did. But I’ll see if I can restore anything from backups. I’ll send it to her email and I’ll keep trying Serenity. Benji replied.

Do that now. Chace ordered, got back an, Okay, and he turned from the keyboard.

“Bonar isn’t answering,” Deck muttered, his head bent to Chace’s phone, thumbs moving over it.

Chace prowled to Faye’s house phone by the couch, snatched it out, engaged it, hit buttons and put it to his ear.

“Carnal Police Department, can I help you?” Terry answered.

“Terry, Chace,” Chace replied. “Got a text, the men Arnold Fuller was blackmailing have arranged to have Faye Goodknight kidnapped and their text indicates she’s been buried alive. I have four hours to get what’s being held over them or she runs out of air. You talk to Frank to ascertain who they are, you, Frank and anyone else on-duty gets the word out. Every one of those men are rounded up and brought in for questioning. Now. Tonight.”

“Jesus, Chace,” Terry muttered.

“That’s a second of air Faye just lost,” Chace bit out.

“Fuck, okay, but, my understanding, those men are all over four counties and all the way to Aspen,” Terry told him.

“Then you better get on the goddamned phone,” Chace growled then disconnected.

“Chace, bud, Dewey’s meetin’ me back of Bubba’s,” Wood called and Chace got the chance to get a chin lift in before Wood walked out the door and the second he disappeared, Jim-Billy, Lauren and Krys were rushing through it.

“What’s going on?” Krys asked.

“Ass at that computer. Faye’s been taken,” Lauren and Krystal gasped, Jim-Billy grunted but Chace just kept talking. “She has some friends who might be in contact through a chat. There might be emails coming through. Sit on that computer and call me if they give you anything.”

Krystal ran to the computer, Lauren at her heels.

Jim-Billy called softly to Lauren, “Laurie, darlin’, toss me your phone.”

Lauren pulled her phone out of her pocket as Chace looked to Deck.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?” Deck asked.

“Bonar,” Chace replied then he prowled out of Faye’s apartment, his chest tight, his throat closing, his palms itching, fear and fury battling for supremacy and it was a crapshoot which would win.

And when.

Deck followed him out.

Faye

I turned the valve on the oxygen tank they left me, the flashlight they left me lighting my movements, my hands covered in blood from pounding against the wood surrounding me.

The air was getting thin.

I used up too much panicking.

I needed more.

I moved the plastic thingie so it covered my mouth and nose and breathed in.

Chace’s words came to me.

Baby, breathe.

My eyes shifted to the note I’d found when I’d stopped panicking, pulled it together, surveyed my close confines, found the flashlight and the tank. It was resting against the wood at my side.

You have four hours. So does he. The phone has minimal charge. No GPS. You’ll have enough time for one call. Use it if you need to say good-bye.

My eyes shifted to the phone they left with me.

Then they closed.

Ella Mae sang in my ear.

I kept my eyes closed.

I felt Chace’s arms around me, his body pressed to mine, our hips swaying.

We were getting married. We were going to build a family.

I held out for twenty-nine years. I held out for Chace. I held out for a hero.

He would find me.

Chace would find me.

Chace

“I don’t know shit,” Bonar spat, eyes to Chace even though Deck had his limp body held up by his neck.

Chace sucked in breath, looked to his watch and remembered the time the text came through because it was burned in his brain.

Faye had less than three hours.

His eyes moved to Deck. “She has less than three hours.”

Deck pulled back an arm and let fly. When he connected, the blood splattered against the wall behind them.

Chace’s phone rang. He pulled it out and took the call.

“What?” he clipped into it as Deck leaned into Bonar, jerking Bonar to him with his fingers wrapped around his throat and growled something low that Chace couldn’t hear.

“Brother, we’re pullin’ them in and they’re all lawyerin’ up,” Frank said in his ear.

Chace opened his mouth to speak but he heard in the background, “Charge them all with three counts of conspiracy to commit murder and book ‘em.”

Cap was there.

“We don’t have evidence to support that.” Chace heard Frank tell the Cap.

Then he heard Cap mutter from close, “We’ll worry about that later. Charge ‘em, book ‘em and give that to me.” Then Chace had Cap direct. “Son, whatever mess you’re out there makin’, have a mind to me bein’ able to clean it up.”

Disconnect.

If Faye wasn’t running out of air, he would have smiled.

Instead he tipped his eyes to Bonar who was bleeding profusely from his nose, several cuts in his lips and the entire left side of his face was swelling.

Deck was localizing the damage and it looked like it hurt like a bitch.

Bonar’s eyes shifted from Deck to Chace.

“I knew this was the man you were,” he whispered, getting it wrong.

This was exactly the kind of man he was, but a man like Bonar would never understand the reasons why.

“Where is she?” Chace whispered.

Bonar grinned.

Deck shook him and his head flew back and forth like a ragdoll.

When Deck stopped shaking him, Chace repeated, “Where is she?”

“Compartmentalization,” Bonar whispered through another grin.

Fuck, he didn’t know. He might give the order but he would have no idea how it was carried out or maybe even by whom.

Chace felt movement and looked behind him to see Bubba walking into Bonar’s bedroom.

He didn’t delay. “Talked to Krys. Don’t get this but I’ll say what I get fast. Whoever that guy is Faye knows on the computer sent a load of shit. They printed it all out and everyone’s been combin’ through every word and digit. Shambles and Sunny showed. Wendy. Twyla. More. Saw a number that this one,” Bubba jerked his head to Bonar, “called a lot. Traced it to some corporation in Denver. No name. But the dude on the computer has got skills. He locked on that number’s GPS.” Bubba lifted up his phone on which a text was displayed. “And right now, whoever he is, he’s local.”

Chace turned to Deck, jerked up his chin and then moved to the door.

“I’ll be pressing charges,” Bonar called after them and Chace stopped because he felt Deck stop.

“Motherfucker, bring it on. But know this, you call the cops, I’ll see to it that we’re cellmates even if I have to make shit up. You’ve looked into me. You know my skills. Only difference will be, I’ll make it so Chace and me’ll be out way before you,” Deck told him then he delayed no further and followed Chace as Chace left the room.

In his Yukon, Deck at his side, following Bubba who was exceeding the speed limit, fighting the excruciating pain in his chest, the sour in his gut, Deck’s phone rang.

“Yo.” Chace heard then, “Right,” then a beep and, “Phone the texts were sent from, a burner. No shot at GPS.”

Chace sucked in breath.

Then he drove.

Five minutes later, five minutes less of Faye’s air, his phone rang.

He pulled it out, hit go and put it into his ear.

“What?”

“Son, you’ve had them arrested.”

His father talking soft and quiet. Ma was asleep.

“Yeah? And?” Chace clipped.

“I can hardly talk to them while they’re incarcerated.”

“Maybe your lawyer can get word to their lawyers to be smart and start talkin’.”

“I’m afraid they won’t listen. What’s happened tonight, it’s been made clear I’m out of their loop.”

“What?” Chace asked.

“You’re off-limits. Valerie’s off-limits. And when I met Faye, I communicated to them that she was off-limits. I’m alarmed they’ve made this move. It isn’t like them and I knew nothing about it.”

“Well, you makin’ that clear hasn’t been all that helpful, Dad. My life got jacked. Mom doesn’t know it but she was threatened with learnin’ about your perversion. So the people whose asses you’ve been coverin’ haven’t been all that safe. Now, including Faye.”

“I had no idea they were planning to target Faye, Chace. I had no control over the other. Fuller did that to you two,” Trane reminded him.

“You let him,” Chace shot back. “Now, as this isn’t helpin’ things, unless you got somethin’ for me that will, we’re done.”

“You need to talk to Clinton,” he advised.

“Already done. Compartmentalization. You know how he plays it. You got another name for me?”

There was silence then, “I’m not this man, Chace,” he said quietly. “I’m not the man you think I am. The only reason I had that association with Clinton, not to mention the one I was forced to build with most of those men, is because that tape forced me into that association.”

“Bonar’s been on your team for a long fuckin’ time, Dad.”

“When this started happening and we became aware that the others were facing the same thing, we allied and Clinton’s job description was adjusted accordingly.”

“My woman, the woman whose finger I put a diamond on tonight, Dad, has less than three hours of air. You givin’ me this history is not helpin’ her one fuckin’ bit. Now do you have shit for me that might help me?”

“Will the police be at my door soon?” Trane asked back.

There it fucking was.

“Don’t know. Don’t give a fuck. But honestly surprised you aren’t already in custody.”

“Your mother –”

Covering his own fucking ass.

As always.

As fucking always.

Because of that, Chace lost it.

“My woman has less than three hours of air,” he thundered into the phone. “This is not about you, this is not about savin’ your ass and this is not about protecting Ma. This is about saving the goddamned life of the woman I fuckin’ love. So do not call me unless you got shit that will help Faye.”

“I’ll keep doing what I can,” Trane told him and Chace disconnected without another word.

“You cool?” Deck asked.

“No,” Chace bit out.

“Gotta find cool, brother. We’re runnin’ against a clock. You burn out, gotta be locked down, burns time. You gotta stay ice cold.”

“Your woman’s buried alive somewhere, probably fuckin’ terrified, you have no fuckin’ idea how to save her, you can show me how you remain ice cold,” Chace growled.

“You do it knowin’ this shit’ll get done. You do it knowin’ you got your boys at your back. You do it knowin’ they will not give up and you do it not givin’ up either.”

Chace sucked in breath through his nose but the burn it brought seared through every inch of him.

“She delivered me,” he whispered.

“I know that, Chace,” Deck whispered back.

“She’s better than a dream.”

“I know it, brother.”

“She’s gotta be terrified.”

“No she isn’t. She’s Faye and she’s waitin’ for you.”

That cut through because, his Faye and her backbone, that was undeniably true.

Chace sucked in another breath and his phone went again.

He engaged it and put it to his ear.

“Keaton.”

“Chace, Max,” Max replied. “Jeff just arrested George but I got to him first. He admitted he fiddled the figures on his taxes. Fuller found out because George’s accountant was on his payroll. Not enough to make him an ugly target, just enough for him to pay the toll and tow the line. Since Fuller fell, George hasn’t heard shit. He thought it all died and was shocked as shit when Nina got up in his face. This shit tonight has flipped him out. He has no idea what’s going on and he had no idea there were others until it was all over. He’s not in with this group, Chace. He was small time. Just a toy for Fuller.”

Dead end.

“Right,” he muttered.

“I’m on my way to Carnal. You got somethin’ you need me to do?”

“Go home to your family. You wake Nina, tell her tomorrow she may be gettin’ a call from me, this gets ugly.”

“I’m an extra pair of hands, Chace,” Max told him quietly and Chace pulled in another breath.

“Then call Wood or Tate. They may be workin’ something I don’t know about.”

“Right. Done,” he muttered then he said, “Keep it together. Shit happens but more often than not, it tends to have a happy ending.”

The damsel was in distress waiting for her happily ever after.

Fuck.

“Thanks, Max,” he muttered.

“Later.”

He heard the disconnect, pressed the button on his phone and drove.

Bubba rolled his truck off to the side but before he did that and Chace followed, Chace saw it.

Two cars in the ditch. By their positions, one had forced the other off the road.

He stopped, put his SUV in park and cut the ignition.

Deck was already out, Deke and Bubba out in front of him.

Chace jogged beyond Bubba’s truck, rounded it and came to a rocking halt as a figure formed from the shadows.

Samuel Sterling. Self-made, African American multi-millionaire. Friend of Ty. Good man.

But not a local unless Aspen was considered local.

Fucking hell.

“What the fuck?” he asked, Sterling stopped four feet away and put his hands up.

“Ty knew I was in the area. He received some information. He gave me a call.”

He wasn’t in the area. The minute Ty heard Faye was in danger, he decided all hands on deck, he’d made a call and Sterling moved out.

There were unmistakable noises in the distance and Chace looked beyond him into the dark, seeing nothing.

“It’s my understanding you’re an officer of the law,” Sterling noted and Chace’s eyes cut to him.

“You got someone out there?” he asked.

“I recommend you allow me and my colleague to handle this,” Sterling returned.

“You got someone out there?” Chace repeated.

“We acquire the information you need,” Sterling said low, “and I assure you, we will acquire the information you need, you find your woman, she’ll need you clean and free.”

Chace moved toward him, starting, “I will not stand here –”

Sterling put a hand in his chest. Chace stopped, dropped his eyes to the hand in his chest then sliced them to Sterling’s face.

“For your woman, you will,” he whispered.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He would. He’d already swung his and Deck’s ass out there tonight.

He had to let this be.

Fuck.

Sterling looked in his eyes. Then he dropped his hand, turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Deck, Bubba and Deke closed ranks.

The noises came from the distance.

Chace’s hands balled into fists.

Deck looked at his watch then shouted, “As of now you got one hour and fifty-three minutes and we’re forty-five outta Carnal! Get the lead out!”

He’d memorized the time of the text too.

Chace’s phone rang. He engaged it and put it to his ear.

“Keaton.”

“Chace, Wood.” He heard. “Dewey got some names. Coupla guys who do dirty work for members of this Elite. Ty and Twyla are with me, we’re on one. Gave the info of the other to Tate who’s connecting with Max and they’re on the other. Ty’s texting you names and specifics now. You on the lead Krys and the gang got?”

“Sterling is,” Chace said into the phone.

“Good. I’ll tell Ty that connection worked. We’ll keep in touch.”

Then he was gone.

“Brief,” Deck grunted when Chace beeped his phone.

Chace gave the short brief.

Then the men stood in the night and listened to the remote sounds.

Chace looked to his watch.

One hour forty-eight minutes.

“Fuck,” he whispered, every inch of his body buzzing, everything that was him urging him to sprint into the distance and take care of business and he was using everything he had to stand where he was.

“Keep it together, brother,” Deck whispered back.

“Fuck,” Chace repeated.

“Ice, Chace,” Deck muttered.

Chace’s phone rang and he took the call.

“Keaton.”

“Chace Keaton?” a woman asked in his ear and his body jolted at the unexpected and unknown voice.

“Yes.”

“Right, this is Ally Nightingale. You know me as Serenity.”

Instantly, Chace turned on his boot and started jogging to his truck.

“Chace, what the fuck?” Deck called.

“Talk,” Chace growled into the phone.

“She’s buried in your backyard.”

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.

His backyard. His fucking backyard.

The woman kept talking. “She’s beyond your fence. Mid-line, seventy-five yards out. The ground will be disturbed. I got the stuff they were looking for and I handed it over to their contact two minutes ago. They gave me the details. I’m an hour out. I hope you’re closer.”

Chace angled into his truck already aiming the keys to the ignition.

“I’m forty-five minutes out,” he told her deciding he was actually thirty.

“Righteous,” she whispered. “She’ll have an hour.”

Deck angled in beside him as Chace threw the SUV in reverse, his door still open, Bubba and Deke jumping into the truck in front of him.

“See you there,” she told him.

“See you there,” Chace replied then threw his phone on the console without disconnecting.

When he shifted to drive, the forward motion of the truck slammed his door. Once he’d executed the turn, his cell careening, Deck’s hand darting out to tag it, he put the pedal to the floor.

“She’s in my backyard,” he told Deck.

Deck’s phone started beeping. He was making the calls.

Chace drove.

Faye

I didn’t know how much time I had.

And I didn’t want to lose my shot.

I thought about Dad and Mom.

But when I turned on the phone, the display said low battery and my thumb automatically hit Chace’s numbers.

I put it to my ear and after one ring heard, “Keaton.”

God, I loved his voice.

I’d made the right choice. If I died here, the last thing I’d hear was his beautiful voice.

I took the tank from my face and whispered, “Hey honey,” then put it back.

“Jesus, fuck, Faye, baby,” he whispered back. “You okay?”

I took the tank away and told him, “The phone they left me to say good-bye only has a minute –”

“I know where you are, darlin’. I’m on my way. Everyone’s on their way. You got time. Be there soon.”

I took the tank away and told him, “The tank’s almost out.”

“What?”

“I’m in the red zone.”

“You got over an hour.”

“I’m in the red zone.”

“Faye, someone will be there soon.”

“Okay.”

“Soon.”

“I love you Chace.”

“Soon, Faye.”

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too, now someone will be there –”

The phone died.

I put the tank back and breathed.

I waited.

And I breathed.

I waited more as I breathed.

I did this until there was nothing left in the tank to breathe.

My mouth pulled in nothing.

My eyes fluttered closed.

Ella Mae sang in my ear.

“Just fucking dig!” I heard shouted in my dream.

My eyes fluttered, my mouth sucked in breath.

It got nothing.

Scraping.

Thumping.

My eyes closed.

Banging.

Loud, loud banging.

Wood splintering.

Air rushed in and, my body moving without me telling to do it, I shifted toward the weak breeze, sucking it in.

More banging, scraping, the sounds of something beating through wood, the piercing, scratching noise of someone tearing it away. I felt dirt shower on me, wood falling on me, air streaming in and I sucked at it, taking dirt in with it and choking.

Then I heard a loud thump and Chace’s, “Fuck me, Jesus, fuck, fuck me.”

A loud crack of a sheet of wood breaking then hands under my armpits and I was pulled out.

Out.

Air.

Clean air.

A lot of it.

No dirt.

I sucked it in.

“Give her to me,” I heard rumbled and I was jostled, in different arms, my eyes opening and closing, my mouth sucking in air. “I got her. Give him a hand,” the same voice ordered.

I was shifted then jostled and new arms closed around me, familiar arms, and then I was down, my ass in Chace’s lap, his arm tight around me, his legs cocked, cocooning me, his other hand shifting my hair away from my face.

“You breathing, baby? Faye, you breathing, baby?”

I looked into his face and saw the bad kind of raw.

So I gave him what he needed to take it away.

“Yeah.”

Before I could watch it melt away, he shoved my face in his neck, his voice thick and hoarse when he muttered, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

I looked over his shoulder and saw Ty, Tate, Wood, Deke, Twyla, Bubba, Deck and Nina Maxwell’s husband dirty, filthy, mud caked up their arms, on their chests.

They’d dug me out with their hands.

I turned my face into Chace’s neck and whispered, “You need to buy a shovel, honey.”

His body went solid around me.

Then he shoved his face in my neck and burst out laughing.

Semi-lounging, semi-not on Chace’s couch, hanging over the back of it, I looked out his back window.

On his deck illuminated by the outside lights was a beautiful, thin brunette who was having words with an extortionately handsome Italian American man. This was happening while a supremely good-looking black man with twists in his hair and another man, somewhat schluby wearing Buddy Holly glasses and a t-shirt that I could appreciate that said, “All hail Khaleesi, bring on the dragons!” looked on.

“I told you once, I told you a thousand times, Ren, what I do with my life is none of your business! Stay out of it!” she shouted.

She.

That would be Serenity.

My Serenity.

Or a woman I met an hour and a half ago named Ally Nightingale. A woman, after she gave me a big, relieved hug, who told me she lived in Denver. A woman who unabashedly and thankfully did not stop poking her nose into murder and mayhem in Carnal when I asked her to.

The woman who saved my life.

Luckily, at her back, was a badass introduced to me as Darius Tucker (the black guy) and a computer geek that Ally admitted did all the keyboard work introduced to me as Brody (the Game of Thrones freak).

Following her on her self-appointed assignation to save my behind but doing it in order to ream her, was a man I hadn’t met since he laid into Ally the second he arrived. I did know from her shouting at him that he was called Ren.

Cool name.

Hot guy.

And he seemed seriously pissed at her but it was in that way that Chace got pissed at me when he found out I did something crazy and stupid. That was to say, he was pissed because he was seriously worried she’d get hurt.

And it seemed Ally wasn’t cottoning onto that.

It further seemed Ally “Serenity” Nightingale was not like me in a lot of ways and not just that she was thinner than me, taller than me and a brunette. But also she was the queen of backtalk and attitude.

I knew this when Ren shouted back, “Baby, you keep up with this shit, I’ll chain you to my goddamned bed!”

To which she returned heatedly, “Try it, Zano, and I’ll kick your ass!”

All Chace had to say was “baby” and I was all, “okay”.

Not Ally.

Watching, it appeared Ally never gave in in her life, even to a serious hot guy who was threatening to chain her to his bed, which, studying him in all his tall, dark, hot-blooded Italian, badass gorgeousness, was no threat at all.

Jeez, she had this guy hot on her heels and she was perving on Nathan Fillion? I mean, Nathan Fillion was mega hot but this guy… amazing. And he didn’t live wherever Nathan Fillion lived but he was right there, on Chace’s deck, a foot away from Ally, shouting at her because he was worried.

I sensed movement, tore my eyes from the action, turned my head and watched Chace, hair wet from a shower, in clean jeans and a sweater, bare feet, walking to me, eyes to the window.

Infinitely hotter than the Italian hottie on the back deck.

He shifted in behind me and hauled my booty into his lap as his lower half twisted so one leg was on the couch, my hips were between his legs and through this, his eyes remained out the window.

“They still at it?” he asked.

I looked from Chace’s handsome profile out the window to see Ren pointing a finger in the African American man’s face, not a good move in my estimation but he didn’t seem to be worried, as he shouted, “You should know better!”

Darius Tucker grinned.

Seriously, he was hot too.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Should I intervene?” Chace asked.

There was a hot-blooded, pissed off, tall Italian guy on the deck. I was steering clear. I’d had enough danger for one night.

“Would you want someone to intervene when you were concerned pissed and shouting at me?”

“I’ll leave them be,” Chace muttered instantly and I grinned. “Just got a call from Cap,” he announced and my eyes went from the scene outside to him.

“Yeah?”

Chace’s eyes came to me.

“He told me that apparently, while Ally and Tucker were playin’ The Elite to get a lock on you, Brody was at CPD showin’ them the trail. They may have got what Newcomb was holdin’ over those boys, but two of them got fidgety and stupid. Direct links to the guy who nabbed you at Bubba’s and that shit ties in another man called Clinton Bonar who they’re goin’ out to pick up now. Some of that crew might breathe free but those two will go down for conspiracy and Frank says they already got warrants to collect shit on Brody’s trail. Not to mention, Tucker and Brody are both connected to a private investigator in Denver called Lee Nightingale who’s got links to law enforcement. So, the male PI Nightingale and his brother who happens to be a cop put their stamp on it, the shit he gave them direct may still be admissible.”

“Did she know they were coming after me?” I asked, hoping she didn’t and thus didn’t warn me.

“Not until she got the same text I got,” Chace gave me the right answer. “She and Brody were hacked in, following their communications so she was on alert because she knew something was going down. She got that text when I got it and she, Tucker and Brody hauled ass. They had a lock on who Newcomb gave the shit to and they motored direct to him. Took him down, got it, dropped Brody and made the connection to hand it over.”

“So Serenity saved me and took two of them down,” I whispered.

“It sticks, yeah,” he whispered back.

“Wow.” I was still whispering, my eyes drifting to the window.

Darius was looking at his boots. Brody was biting his lip and looking to the dark sky. Ren had Ally pinned against the railing of Chace’s deck in a way I couldn’t see her at all.

No one was shouting but Ren’s body was still tight with fury.

And his booty looked really good in those faded jeans.

Seriously, I needed to have a chat with Serenity. She needed to wake up.

“Faye,” Chace called softly, I tore my eyes from Ren’s behind and I looked back at him. His hand came up and slid my hair over my shoulder then curled around my neck when he went on, “Samuel Sterling delivered your kidnapper to CPD.”

Fraking good.

The creep.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Can you ID him?” he asked gently and I bit my lip because I could.

He’d stunned me in the back hall of Bubba’s and I woke up in that box but I saw him before he did it.

Chace didn’t miss me biting my lip and whispered, “Fuck.”

We hadn’t spoken of it. Chace had made a call telling his colleagues that he’d let them know when I was okay to make my report and for the time being they were to steer clear.

They steered clear.

So it was all about the guys and Twyla giving me hugs (Twyla’s being the tightest), making phone calls to let their women know I was good, them taking off, me showering, Chace showering and Ally and Ren fighting.

“Can we do it tomorrow morning?” I asked.

“Yeah, baby,” he answered.

“Can I tell you about it tomorrow too?” I asked softly.

“Whenever you’re ready, Faye,” he answered softly.

“Did Krys and the girls tell Benji I was okay?”

“Yeah. He knows everything.”

Good. Benji would be worried but I wasn’t surprised to hear that he’d totally stepped up for me.

“I need to do something for all of them, say thanks for helping,” I muttered wondering what said “thanks for saving my life” and thinking, unless you were a gazillionaire and could hand out castles, pretty much nothing did.

“I think you breathin’ is thanks enough,” he told me.

“Yeah,” I whispered because he probably thought right and luckily that cost a lot less than a dozen castles.

Chace’s eyes moved over my face before they again locked on mine.

“You seem okay,” he noted quietly.

Quietly back, I noted, “I am. I’m breathing.”

Upon me finishing my last word, he sucked in breath as he closed his eyes, his hand shifting up and back into my hair, pulling my forehead to his.

“I knew you’d save me,” I whispered, his eyes opened and he pulled his head an inch away.

“I didn’t know,” he whispered back.

“Well, I did.”

“And I didn’t save you. Serenity did.”

At his words, I found his wrists with my hands and tugged them between us. He’d showered but there was still dirt in his nails and tears in his flesh where he’d pounded through and torn away the wood imprisoning me.

I dipped my ear to my shoulder, but held his eyes as I shook his hands and asked, “You didn’t?”

“Faye –”

“Did you give up?”

“No, but, honey –”

“Would you have given up?”

“No, but I lost it.”

“Of course you did, you love me.”

“Deck had to hold me together.”

“Of course he did, he loves you.”

“Faye –”

“You pulled me free.”

“Honey –”

My hands tightened on his wrists, I leaned in and whispered fiercely, “It was you who ended it, Chace. You that dug me out. You that pulled me free. You had help but you did it. That’s my last memory of that nightmare. You pulling me free.”

His eyes warmed and he opened his mouth to speak but I wasn’t done.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, honey. The knight who has serious chinks in his armor but never falls is the true hero. That means he’s won battles and doesn’t waste time polishing his armor so he can look good while he rides in parades that are tributes to his glory. He just drags himself back on his steed and keeps right on battling. And if he’s the right kind of knight, he never rides alone. The best heroes inspire loyalty. The best heroes keep fighting the good fight, tirelessly, quietly. The best heroes always have scars. If they didn’t, the heroine would have nothing to do. It’s her job to help the hero let all that stuff go in order that her man can be strong enough to fight on but when he’s with her he’s free to just breathe.”

His wrists twisted so my hands released them but he just captured mine in his own, pressing them to his chest and his voice was gruff when he asked, “You gonna breathe free, honey?”

“Lauren was kidnapped and stabbed by a serial killer and she told me she never lost a wink of sleep because when she slept she did it next to Tate,” I told him and his brows drew together.

“Is that an answer to my question?”

“Yeah. See, what happened to me you feel is your responsibility because you feel it’s your responsibility to protect me. But for me, I was freaked and I was in a box in the ground for a couple of hours. Now I’m not. Tonight, tomorrow, every night I’ll sleep next to my knight with the chinks in his armor and his scars, knowing he’ll always take care of me so I’ll sleep easy. You won’t, not for a while and I’m sorry about that, honey. But you’ll eventually notice me sleeping easy then you will too. But for me, it’s over, you made that happen so I’m already free just to breathe and earlier, I bought a lifetime being free to breathe by accepting your ring. I may have needed an oxygen tank for a while but your fist went through that wood and moments later, I breathed clean and free.”

“That’s all it takes for you?” he asked, his voice back to gruff.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘all it takes’. Not a lot of girls land a real, honest to goodness, larger than life hero. But, since I was lucky enough to do that then, essentially… yeah.”

Chace stared into my eyes.

Then he let my hands go so his arms could wrap around me, the fingers of one hand gliding into my hair, he pulled me to him and took my mouth.

It wasn’t a fiery kiss. It was a slow, sweet one.

Still, it created a burn.

I had my arms around his shoulders, pressing deep and it was getting good when we had to break it off and look out the window because Serenity screeched, “Ren! Put me down!”

Then we saw him prowl with a struggling Ally over his shoulder to the stairs off the deck. He prowled down them, rounded the deck and house and they went out of sight.

Darius and Brody watched this too in a very weird way like it was nothing new then they walked into the house.

Darius took us in and immediately lifted his hand. “Don’t get up. We’ll go ‘round too. Just here to say good-bye and if you need us, we’re checkin’ into the hotel in town. Leavin’ tomorrow.”

“Right,” Chace muttered.

“Cool to meet you,” Brody called.

“Uh… you too,” I called back even though it kind of wasn’t due to the circumstances though it still was. Then I asked, “Is she going to be okay?”

“This Neanderthal act means he’s gonna stop jackin’ around? Yes,” Darius answered. “She keeps pushin’ him away and he keeps puttin’ up with it? No.”

Sounded like there was a story there.

Serenity was so holding out on me. Even more than I thought she was.

“My money’s on Ally,” Brody muttered.

“My money’s on Zano,” Darius muttered back.

Definitely a story there and it had nothing to do with Nathan Fillion.

Interesting.

“You sure you don’t want a beer or something?” I asked and felt Chace’s body tense around me.

“How ‘bout we have a beer tomorrow when you haven’t just been dug out of a wooden box covered in three feet of fresh dirt?” Darius asked back.

“That would probably be a more appropriate time for entertaining,” I muttered.

That was when I felt Chace’s body shaking around me at the same time both Darius and Brody grinned at me.

“Glad it all ended good. Later,” Darius gave his farewell.

“Yeah, later,” Brody gave his.

“Bye,” I called.

Chace gave them a chin lift.

They barely got the door closed before we were up, me in Chace’s arms and Chace heading to the hall, down it and to his room.

He set me in the bed, put a fist in it on either side of me and leaned in so he was all I could see.

“Be back, two seconds,” he whispered.

I nodded.

He left and I knew he was closing down the house for the night. I got proof when the light shining through the window from outside went out. It wasn’t needed anymore anyway. Dawn was coming.

When he came back, I watched him take off his jeans and sweater and climb in bed beside me. Then he turned out his light, rolled over me and turned out mine.

When it was out, he shifted into me and gathered me in his arms.

I was wearing one of his sweatshirts, clean panties and a pair of his socks, all I’d tugged on after my shower.

He was silent.

I remained that way too.

Then I stopped remaining that way.

“Are you okay?”

No answer.

My hands slid up the skin of his back and I called, “Chace?”

“I’m in the red zone,” he whispered.

His words, my words, words, the memory of them, the reason he was saying them making my heart clench.

I closed my eyes and pushed in closer.

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

“You’d run out of air.”

I opened my eyes. “For hardly a minute.”

“You’d run out of air.”

“It’s over, honey.”

His arms tightened around me and his voice was yet again gruff when he asked, “Can you really tell me after that shit happened you’re okay?”

“I only had to wait for you, Chace. You had to look for me. What you went through is worse so, no. I’m not really okay but I’m not freaked about what happened to me. I’m upset about what happened to you.”

“Jesus, baby, I’m okay.”

“You aren’t.”

“You’re here, you’re breathin’, you’re in my bed, you’re wearin’ my ring, I fuckin’ am.” His voice was reassuringly firm as his arms were reassuringly tight.

Still, I pushed, “Promise?”

“Fuck yeah. I’m just worried you aren’t.”

“Well, I am.”

“Could fuck with you.”

“Maybe, but you’ll be here.”

“Could give you bad dreams.”

“Maybe, but you’ll be here.”

“Could be okay then in a year, two, twelve, it’ll sneak up and haunt you.”

Jeez!

Sometimes a protective hero hot guy could be stubborn and annoying.

It was my turn to be firm. “Okay, maybe, Chace, but you’ll be here.”

He went silent.

Then he whispered. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

Yeah.

He would.

In a year, two, twelve.

Always.

I snuggled closer and whispered back, “Yeah.”

He went silent.

I remained that way too.

Then I again stopped.

“Tired?”

“Fuck no.” Again firm.

“You want to talk?”

“No.”

I snuggled even closer. “Make love?”

Without delay or a word, Chace rolled into me, his mouth hit my throat and his lips slid around and up my neck.

I took that as a yes.

“Fuck?” I whispered an alternate suggestion.

“Make love,” he muttered against my jaw and I grinned into the gathering dawn as Chace’s hands moved under his sweatshirt.

Then I whispered back, “Works for me.”