The Penalty Box - Teagan Kade Page 0,20

look back.

The bodyguard Peyton was pinning down is standing on the front steps, pistol raised. He lets another shot off, this one wide. I hear Rex shouting about something to stop, not to hit Linnea, but a final shot shatters the driver-side window of the Beemer.

I open the door and pull it wide, pushing Linnea in first, the other two already sliding across the back seat.

I jump into the driver’s seat, ass in a pool of safety glass, and slot the key home. I reach for the door handle and slam it closed, the glass that was left in the window frame tinkling to the road.

I turn the key and select first, drop the clutch and take off, fish-tailing away

The bodyguard who fired at us appears in the rear-view, lifts the pistol.

“Get down!” I shout, but the shot never comes.

“I thought you said they weren’t armed,” shouts Phoenix.

I shake my head and take the corner late, the back of the car swinging out. “Sorry.”

I finally get a chance to look across to Linnea. She’s white as a sheet but otherwise unharmed. “You okay?” I ask.

She nods, turning to the others. “Thank you, all of you.”

At that, the two of them do their best to look casual, like saving kidnap victims is a daily occurrence.

“It was nothing,” shrugs Phoenix. “Anything for a lady.”

“I’m no lady,” laughs Linnea, though it’s unsteady. “But thank you. I mean it.”

Peyton just nods and places the bat he’s holding down. “Can’t say I woke up this morning expecting that.”

I can still hear Rex yelling in my head. I’m surprised he let her go so easily, not that he had much of a choice. I’d like to think this would be the end of it, but I saw the way he looked at us. That was a man who is not used to losing—at anything. A creature of the most dangerous kind.

*

We arrive back at the house. I park the Beemer around back and meet the others inside. I’ve already arranged for extra security, detailed them on what’s happening. Unless Rex decides to send an army, we should be fine.

Soon the others have headed off to their respective soulmates, no doubt to speak of their exploits. I don’t think either of them actually informed their better halves what they were doing. They’ll probably wind up with a kick to the ass instead.

I sit with Linnea in the kitchen. She’s eating a BLT Phoenix prepared, can barely hold the sandwich with two hands.

“You should stay here,” I tell her. “It’s not safe to go back to your place. We can call your mom, let her know what’s going on.”

“I can’t impose on you guys like that.”

I laugh, looking around. “The place is big enough for a hundred people. You’ll be fine. I insist.”

“You do, do you?”

I nod. “Afraid so.”

She places the sandwich down. “What if I try and leave?”

“I’ll have to tie you up.”

“You make it sound worthwhile.”

I let her eat, smiling.

She agrees with some reluctance, not wanting Rex to even marginally control her life but seeing no hardship about staying here with me.

I’m looking forward to it, but when we get ready for bed, she doesn’t try to initiate sex like I expect, happy instead to lie there and cuddle.

I’m not complaining. I pull her close, tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear that had fallen in front of her face.

Her legs are tangled with mine below the covers, the hot length of her body comforting in a way that’s more than sexual, more than anything I’ve experienced.

We’ve got our head on the same pillow, barely an inch apart. “What was it like?” she asks. “Growing up as a King?”

I take a moment to consider my response. “If you’re asking did I feel pressure to perform, to live up to the family name, of course, but it’s more than that.”

“It’s what?”

“My father was there, he was around us, but he was never really there there, you know?

“I understand, but my father wasn’t a legend like yours.”

“That’s just it. Sports were everything. It’s hard to let that competitiveness not poison your entire life. Everything becomes win or lose. It has taken me a long time to realize there’s black and white in there, but the gray area between them is where life, true life, is lived.”

She whistles. “Wow, that’s deep.”

“If we’re comparing fathers, I have a feeling you’ll chalk up the win.”

“I never really knew him…as a father. Getting away was the best thing my mother