King of Masters by Brynn Ford
CHAPTER 30
Stella
THE NARROW ROAD that cuts through the dense forest is slick with ice. Murphy drives cautiously, but quickly down the path. Snow drifts down through the trees, covering the ground, though the bare branches of aspen and pine trees slow the snowfall’s descent. There’s no light except for the moon and the beams of our black SUV.
It’s eerily calm and quiet.
I glance over at Murphy, who’s on high alert, his fists clenched around the steering wheel. We haven’t said a word to each other since we got the keys and snuck out of the manor without drawing attention.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know why those words come out of my mouth. Maybe because his tension is so unnerving—I feel his anxious energy pulsing and it overwhelms me.
“I’m part of every choice you make, every decision. I don’t know what’s so difficult for you to understand.”
“I’m a person on my own—”
“You’re my wife. It’s my duty to stand by your side and if you fuck up, then I fuck up, too.”
He releases one hand from the steering wheel to swipe it across his beard, his stress palpable.
“I only wanted to give them a chance. They’re in love. Don’t they deserve to be free and happy?”
He glances at me. “Don’t we deserve to be free and happy? You could be killed for your involvement. I could be killed for failing to notify the board immediately. Would it have been worth it to help them then? To do what you did?”
Silence falls and remains for beats, the thickness of it making my pulse quicken.
“I’m trying, Stella,” he says quietly. “I’m trying to be a better man for you. I’m trying to do what’s right for you.”
My eyes are glued to his face, though his features are shadowed in the darkness.
“I know I destroyed the life you had before. I understand that. I don’t regret making you my wife because stubborn and bull-headed as you are, I can’t stand to think of what kind of man I’d be without you.”
My heart flutters and I stifle a gasp.
“I want to make this life good for you. I want to make you happy, and I have the power to do that. I have the power to be better than my father was. I have the power to influence change, but I can’t do that when you pull shit like this that I have to fix.”
“You weren’t meant to fix it. They were meant to be free.”
“And you were meant to be mine, but the facts don’t require your acceptance to remain true.”
“How can I believe something is true when there is no proof of it? How could I ever believe you want to be a better man when you haven’t shown me?”
A sound from above interrupts our conversation—the whirring sound of helicopter blades chopping through the air far above the trees. We both lean forward to peek out the windshield, and I can spot the lights of the helicopter flying overhead.
“Fuck,” Murphy mutters. He lifts his hands and beats them against the steering wheel. “Fuck!”
“They got away…”
We crest at the top of a hill. As we arc over the top, I see two lights in the distance at the bottom of the hill. We coast down the incline and a scene comes into view in a snow-covered clearing at the bottom of the hill.
“Murphy,” I warn, pointing toward it.
But he’s not looking toward the clearing, he’s looking at the road ahead. “What the fuck?” he mutters, squinting. “Hold on.”
He presses the brake smoothly, but I can feel the way the icy road makes the tires slip. The back end veers left and his arm snaps out, a protective instinct to hold me in place as the car swerves. My pulse quickens along with my breaths, nervous energy building within my gut. I let out a sigh of relief when he somehow manages to bring the car to a crooked stop, sideways on the road, just before the bottom of the hill. He doesn’t say a word to me, but he parks, pops open his door, and climbs out.
I quickly follow suit, carefully walking in my heels on the icy road to move around the SUV. I meet him at the side of our vehicle to find him looking down at the ground, where our tires were meant to travel, and my eyes follow his gaze. There’s a metal strip covered with thick spikes laid across the entire width of the road.
“What is that?” I ask.
He lifts his head to look at me. “A spike strip. Someone put it here to keep anyone from leaving.”
“Did you—”
“No, I didn’t know anything about this.” His jaw tenses. “I should’ve been told about this.”
Movement catches my attention from the corner of my eye, drawing me back to the lights I saw in the small clearing up ahead. Squinting, I stare in that direction, and realize I can see the shadow of a person moving nearby.
Headlights—that’s what the lights are. Two headlights aiming at the trees in the distance, so close to the tree trunks that the lights are haloed and dull.
I step wide over the spike strip and walk as quickly as I can toward the glow.
It’s easily below freezing and I’m already shivering. The icy roadway is particularly slippery in high heels, so I step off the side of the road and slowly trudge over the snowy dirt shoulder that lines it. After only a few steps, Murphy appears and falls in step beside me. He grabs hold of my elbow, but doesn’t pull me back, doesn’t try to stop me. He holds me so that I don’t fall.
Moonlight casts a dull, eerie glow over the clearing as we approach, casting unwanted light on a scene that makes my veins hiss from a wave of adrenaline which floods me.
Snow painted crimson.
Anya’s motionless body lies atop a pool of blood, her blush pink gown tattered, torn, and bloody.
Oh, God.
Oh, my God.
My hand clamps over my mouth.
Kostya rushes away from her side, coming toward us. “Murphy, I’m sorry. I did not—”
“Save it,” Murphy replies. “I’m not the one who put that fucking spike strip across the road.”
“Please, don’t—”
“My wife told me everything, Kostya. I know every detail of your involvement in this attempted escape.”
“Then kill us now,” Kostya says. “Kill us before they come for us.”
Us?
“She’s alive?” I shake from Murphy’s grip and run to Anya, unconcerned for the way the freezing snow bitterly bites at my toes. “Oh, my God.” I drop to my knees beside her, landing in the blood-soaked snow. I glance over my shoulder at Murphy as he approaches. “Murphy. Please. We have to help her.”
“You’ve already gotten me into enough fucking trouble with your involvement, Stella. And where the fuck is Ezra?”
“He’s gone,” Kostya replies. “With the baby. On the helicopter that left ten minutes ago.”
“She’s bleeding…” My voice quakes as I take in the sight of this strong woman, pale as the snow, blood pooling all around her. “Did she give birth? Out here? Oh, my God. Murphy…Please. You told me you could change. You told me you could be a better man for me. You told me you had enough power now to make changes and be a better father than your own. I’m fucking begging you. Don’t let this poor girl die. Not like this.”
He moves in close behind me. “You don’t understand, Stella—”
I leap to my feet, anger and heartache rushing through my veins. I whirl around and jab my blood-covered index finger into his chest. “No, you don’t understand, Murphy. You find a way to save her life, or I go to the board and tell them everything. I’ll tell them how I helped Kostya plan her escape, and you know what will happen to me then. Are you willing to let me suffer those consequences? Or can you step the fuck up right fucking now?”
Silence falls, and though I feel frantic, I dig deep to hold steady, to stare him down, to stand firm, because I’m not going to let Anya die like this.
I can never love him if he lets her die like this—and my pulsing soul knows how much I want to love him.
“Well, fuck,” he mutters, running his hand over his beard. “Let’s get her outta here before the rest of the four families come looking.”
“Where are we taking her? And what about Kostya?”
“I have a plan. Go get my phone from the car so I can call our pilot. I can stall the rest of them from coming out here for maybe a half hour. We need to move quickly. I can’t afford any suspicion on my head. We’ll tell them they all got away on the first chopper and you and I went after them in the second. Understood?”
My heart skips a beat and gratitude seeps from my pores. “Thank you.” I throw my arms around him. “Really, thank you, Murphy.”
Something strange wraps around our embrace, like a crackling forcefield of electricity that coils and sparks. It’s a moment where the universe pauses and shows me that I’m right where I was always meant to be.
I was a lost soul before, just waiting to be found…and Murphy O’Shea was meant to find me. I was meant to save this woman from her death; I was meant to bring Murphy here to this place and time.
I was always meant to be his.