Their Forever - Chloe Kent Page 0,37

Her heart galloped through her chest. She hated that she still had to experience the fear Nunzio had inflicted on her. And now she was going back to the place that could have killed her.

“You can stop up ahead. There aren't any cameras at that point.” She opened the door and climbed out of the car when he pulled over. She pulled the hoodie over her head, then stopped when Kade disembarked the car too. He took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, then reached into the car and pulled out a cap. A cap that John always wore.

“What are you doing?”

“Ordinarily I would have you stay in the car. But since I think your friend won't trust anyone else to help her unless she sees your face, I'm going to have to take you with me.”

With that he strode off.

“But what if someone sees you? They'll know you're with Liam.”

“No one knows who I am.”

Olivia stamped out an exasperated breath and clearly had little choice but to follow him.

She also hated that she found comfort in following him. Obviously, he had never been to Nunzio's compound before, but he moved with the confidence of someone who knew how to take care of himself. Who was she kidding? He was a chauffeur. That was all. Even John would have been a better partner. At least he had been in the army and could still handle himself even at his age. Kade just looked intimidating. Oh God, what had she gotten herself into?

“Do you have a gun?”

“No,” he replied absently, finding the opening in the fence before she could direct him. He held it open for her, then ducked his tall frame beneath it to follow her.

“You don't have a gun?” she hissed. If they ran into any trouble they were as good as dead.

Ignoring her, he took her hand and led her along the perimeter of the fence, taking control as if he knew exactly what to do. He didn't have a gun, she kept screaming in her head. Were they really as good as dead?

And yet the dread didn't fully register as she followed his wide back, aware that his generic white shirt with his sleeves rolled exposed his powerful forearms and the fabric tightened against his biceps. He looked strong enough, she conceded. She found herself trying anything to pacify her fears.

The sound of men's laughter echoed through the vines as they passed by. Kade twirled her around and pressed her against the wooden wall of a tiny shack. She daren't breath. Seconds seemed like hours before they did their pass, but it was clear the men were drinking and were on a half-hearted patrol.

She only realized she had been clutching his shirt, taking the strangest comfort in his steady heartbeat while hers threatened to explode out of her chest.

She did the unconscious thing of pursing her mouth only to reignite the pain of the bruise on her lower lip again. She lowered her head and decided to take charge by leading the way. She didn't want Kade to touch her again, but she should have known better from her history with Liam as far as powerful men were concerned.

Kade surreptitiously whirled her back, pushed her behind him, and took her hand again. Who was Kade Tremayne exactly?

Thankfully, they had reached the units where all of Nunzio's henchmen and their women lived.

“It's number ten,” she whispered since he was not going to let her lead the way. She felt shakily exposed as they raced across the dusty road to sneak behind another unit. It was boarded up and had always been empty even during her time there. Just as she had expected, everything was still and quiet, with the rest of Nunzio's men out and the ones keeping watch not entirely trained for the job.

They worked in the vineyards and were suddenly given guns to protect what belonged to their boss. She knew this because her father had been one of the men who worked the lands, were part-time security, and worried he would hurt himself just by having to carry a gun.

The aroma of food being cooked and the distant sound of kids playing drifted through the air stricken with neglect and disarray. Nunzio didn't care about his workers. They lived in poor conditions and looked trapped and miserable all the time.

She couldn't help herself when she glanced at the unit with the number thirteen painted on it. Her parents had lived there; her mother had