The Keeper (Playing to Win #1)(58)

Henry waved his gun around the room, and the cracks in his calm started showing. This was going downhill fast. “She ruined your chances, Ashlyn. She tainted you. It was all her fault that you were robbed of the gold. There was no way they were going to give it to you after the stunt she pulled. You’d worked so hard for the medal. It wasn’t fair. So she had to go.”

The room became eerily quiet until he pulled back on Lindy’s hair, and she cried out.

I fought everything inside myself to stay calm and focused on Brandon, not on killing this asshole for hurting Lindy and threatening our lives.

I refused to fucking die like that and pushed down my fear.

I forced myself to stay in control as Ashlyn kept Henry talking.

She knew what we needed. Now let’s just hope Brandon was understanding me. “What do you mean, she had to go, Henry? What . . . what did you do?”

I tuned out Henry’s answer and gave Brandon the slightest nod to see if he’d notice, and his eyes widened. Fuck. He saw it. I made promises to God if we got out of this, I’d do whatever it took to lead a good fucking life. And as this crazy fuck yanked on Lindy’s hair again, he pressed the gun tighter to the back of her head.

Ashlyn saw it and forced her way around Brandon, still arguing with Henry. Keeping his focus on her, instead of Lindy.

Henry lowered his gun, then pointed it at Brandon and Ashlyn.

“We’re supposed to have a life together, Ashlyn. I was even going to forgive you for her.”

I just had to wait for my time.

It was coming. I knew it had to be coming. We weren’t dying like this.

Not there. Not that day.

“We still can, Henry. You and me. Just let Madeline, Easton, and Brandon go, then I’ll go anywhere you want. As far away as you want.” Ashlyn took a tentative step closer, and Henry moved.

I remember thinking—That’s it, Ashlyn. Get him to move.

“Anywhere, Henry. We can start our lives together anywhere. But you’ve got to let them go.”

Henry swung the gun toward Brandon. “He’ll never let you go.”

That was it. That was my chance. Thank fuck, Brandon was used to reading silent signals on the football field and knew innately what I was thinking.

I nodded at him, and he threw Ashlyn down on the floor at the same time I pulled Lindy down in front of me and out of the line of fire.

In a lightning-fast move, I twisted my body and grabbed Henry’s wrist with both hands. I was trying to control the gun.

Looking back, it happened so fucking fast, but it felt like I was slogging through quicksand back then.

I yanked Henry forward and ripped him off his feet, praying the gun wouldn’t go off and kill anybody.

This was it.

Our only chance.

I’ve never been as scared in my entire fucking life as I was when the gun went off. I didn’t know if it hit anyone until later, when someone told me it went into the wall.

Brandon hurtled his body over Lindy and me, like the couch was a fucking springboard.

He tackled Henry to the floor behind us, knocking over the fucking couch, with Lindy and me both still on it, in the process. We all fell to the floor as momentum carried us.

I threw Lindy at Ashlyn and turned to help Brandon, who had his hands around Henry’s throat and was slamming his head against the floor over and over.

Blood pooled beneath the back of Henry’s head as his face turned a dark purple.

Fuck.

He’s gonna kill him.

I have no fucking clue, even all the years later, how or why I pulled Brandon off. But I drug him back from Henry’s motionless body, lying limp on the floor in his own blood.

I wrapped my arms around him from behind and looked up when Sam’s cousin, Dean Beneventi, walked in front of us and grabbed Brandon’s face.

I’ll never forget the moment.

“You gotta stop,” Dean yelled. “You’re gonna fucking kill him. And as much as you want to, you can’t. Your family needs you. Go to them. I’ll handle this.”

Brandon pulled away and screamed at Dean, and I turned to look at Lindy, who was sobbing and shaking in Ashlyn’s arms. I was frozen in my spot for the first time all night. I couldn’t move.

We almost died.

She almost died.

Movement drug me out of my moment as Brandon ran to Lindy and Ashlyn, and Dean movds next to me. “You okay, kid?”

Was I okay?

No.

Nothing was okay.

I heard Lindy sob from across the room. “Marco. He . . . he shot Marco.” Then she pushed away from them, frantic. “Where’s Easton?”

“Right here,” I told her, and she climbed over Brandon and threw her arms around me.

“I thought he was going to kill us,” she cried.

“I was never gonna let that happen, princess,” I told her. I held her so fucking close, and in some ways, never let go.





“Easton . . .” Lindy lays her hand on mine, bringing me out of a past I try really fucking hard not to revisit. “You okay?”

I look at my beautiful wife, alive and happy, and kiss the top of her head. “Yeah, princess. I’ve got everything I need.”





LINDY





Everly



I wasn’t born to work a 9-5. I was born to swim in warm turquoise water, drink cocktails out of a coconut, and chill in a villa by the ocean with an attractive man who doesn’t speak English.