Remember Ramsey by Cynthia Eden

Chapter Twenty-One

Observation notes: I started packing today. There are things I want to take with me, and other things that I want to leave behind when I start my new life with Ramsey.

Is it the same for him? Is he trying to decide what to leave behind?

Jag came to me today and told me this was a mistake. He said that a man like Ramsey would never be happy living an ordinary life.

I actually hope that our life together…maybe it can be extraordinary.

***

“Did you hear me, Ramsey?” Melissa demanded. “Before he died, Axel Porter said one name. Jagger Dunton. I know he’s one of your guys, but I’m betting you didn’t know he was gunning for your lady.”

The phone was still ringing. The chill in Ramsey’s body was growing worse. So cold that he could barely feel anything.

He swiped his finger over the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Got video footage. The guy had a van waiting at the back of the building. He dragged both Whitney and some tall, blond man back there and tossed them inside. You’re not going to like this, but I swear, neither of them were conscious. Then he left them there and it seems like he—”

“He ran back around the building to meet me. To act surprised when Whitney wasn’t in the limo.” Each word was bitten off.

“You…you already know who did it?”

“Jag.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cyrus replied quickly, worriedly. “I recognized him from the few times that I’d seen the two of you together—”

“Where did the van go?”

Everyone had their eyes on him.

“He snuck back for it a while later.”

When I thought he’d left to hunt for Whitney.

“I tried to track the van via traffic cams, but I lost it after about five minutes. I’ll keep searching. I’m sorry, man. I won’t give up. I’m sure he took her to some place isolated and that’s why I lost him on the traffic footage. But we will find that van again.”

“Call Ali and get her to help you.” Allison Carter. Jinx’s lady. A woman as good at tech as Cyrus was.

“He’s not going to get away,” Cyrus rushed to assure him.

“It’s not about getting away.” Because it all made sick sense to Ramsey. “It’s about killing her.” Fuck. “And that will not happen.” He ended the call. I’m sure he took her to some place isolated and that’s why I lost him on the traffic footage.

The detective was in his path. Ramsey stepped around her.

Only to find Jinx right in front of him. “Where are you going?” Jinx demanded.

“To search. Now get out of my way.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“I said to search.” He had to unclench his back teeth. “You heard the phone call. Did it sound like I knew?”

“Who were you talking to?” War asked.

“Cyrus.” Like they hadn’t known. But Jinx was still in his path. “Move.”

Jinx’s whole body was tense. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, but you’ll give me your motorcycle.” They both had always fucking loved bikes. And he could sure use a fast ride at the moment. “Then you’ll go with your special ops buddies and you guys will tear this town apart. We can cover more ground if we divide and conquer.” He slanted a glance back at Melissa. “Guessing you already have an APB out for Jag?”

She nodded. “And I’ll get the cops to search as hard as they can for Whitney.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Ramsey.”

Sorry. Because she thought he wasn’t going to find Whitney alive. He let his head sink forward.

Jinx put his keys in Ramsey’s hand. “Don’t you give up.”

He fisted the keys. Kept his head down as he strode away. Oh, don’t you worry, I’m not giving up. He jumped onto Jinx’s ride.

His head lifted. Grim determination filled him. No, he hadn’t intended to give up at all. He’d just needed to ditch the others. Because Ramsey believed he knew exactly where Jag had gone with Whitney.

Ramsey just hadn’t wanted the others with him when he confronted Jag. There was no need for an audience to watch him kill one of his closest friends.

***

Jinx watched Ramsey drive away. The guy didn’t just slowly pull off. He raced away with a scream of the motorcycle’s engine.

The detective had already hurried to talk with more cops. War was speaking to Imari on the phone, and Odin was sidling closer to Jinx.

“You buy that scene?”

Jinx glanced over at Odin.

“You know your brother pretty damn well. You think he’s the type to put his head down and look defeated?”

Hell, no. “Not on any fucking day of the week.”

“That’s what I thought.” Odin crossed his arms over his chest. “So why’d you let him go off on his own?”

“He’s not going alone.” War wasn’t the only one who had a tracker in his ride. Jinx pulled out his phone and pulled up the app. He could see exactly where his brother was heading. “Ramsey will be getting backup whether he wants it or not.”

***

“You’re not good for him. I warned him to stay away from you over and over again.” Jag was pacing—he’d been pacing in silence for what seemed like forever, but he was finally speaking again…and he had a gun gripped in his hand. “Did he listen? No. The first time you walked into the bar, he got hooked. Never touched a drug in his life until you.”

“I’m not a drug.” Her head hurt. Nausea rose in her throat, and she had to choke it down.

“He built an empire, and he was going to throw it away.” He stalked behind the bar. Put the gun down.

Her breath heaved out. Good. Good. He put the gun down.

But then he started reaching for the bottles of alcohol. He opened them. Began pouring them all over the place. Smashing them.

“He told me he was going to run away with you!” Jag smashed another bottle. Glass flew into the air. “I told him that was crazy. I told you it would never work.”

And she could suddenly remember that. Remember him telling her that Ramsey couldn’t live an ordinary life.

“You were so fucking confident. Lifted your chin at me. Said you loved him. That he loved you. That you could have something special. Extraordinary. Bullshit! Bullshit!” He threw a bottle of whiskey against the wall.

Her hands twisted behind her as she fought to get out of the ropes. The hemp bit into her wrist. Beside her, Edward still appeared to be unconscious. Blood dripped from his temple.

“Then you disappeared.” Jag strode toward her. Towered over her and smiled. “And I thought I didn’t have to worry any longer. You were out of the picture. Ramsey was exactly where he was supposed to be.” His smile slowly faded. “But then you came back from the damn dead.” He lifted his hand. He had a bottle of tequila gripped in his fist. He began to pour it on her.

“Don’t! Stop!” Whitney screamed.

“You’ll stay dead this time.”

“Don’t do this!”

He emptied the bottle on her, soaking her hair and clothes. “Do you think I want to do this?” And he threw that bottle, too. It shattered into a million pieces. “I don’t want this! I just wanted you to stay away! But you came back from the dead, and he…he couldn’t keep his distance. I knew he was sneaking by your place at night. He lied and told me he was just checking up on you, but I knew the truth. He was obsessed, just like before. Had to see you. And then you walked back through the door again…” His breath shuddered out. “Why did you walk back through the door? Why didn’t you stay away?”

“I wanted my past back.” Tequila was sliding down her face. So were tears.

He glared at her. “Did you remember what I said in our last conversation?”

Last conversation? Seriously? Her wrists strained against the ropes.

“You were always writing things down. Ramsey told me about that. I was afraid that you’d written something down about me. When you vanished, I got one of Ramsey’s cop informants to upload a virus in your computer. Told him it was to protect Ramsey in case any incriminating evidence was on the machine, but it was really—”

“To protect you,” she finished.

“On the last night, right before you vanished…” He squinted at her. “You don’t remember it, do you? If you’d remembered, you would’ve had Ramsey come after me.”

No, she didn’t remember the last night.

“But you got the files recovered. You said that when we left the beach house today. And I knew there was no more time to waste. You’d either remember on your own or maybe you’d put enough in those stupid files that you’d recall…”

“Recall what?” she whispered. Whitney was just trying to keep him talking. The longer he talked, the longer she had to escape. The tequila had dripped onto the ropes behind her, and her wrists were slick either from blood—where she’d cut herself on the ropes—or the tequila. Either way, the slickness was giving her room to move, and she’d almost worked one wrist free.

“Recall that I tried to buy you off. Recall that I offered you fifty grand to stay away from him.” Jag shook his head. “You told me you’d never stay away. I…got mad at you. I’ve got a temper.”

“You don’t say,” she muttered. Her left wrist was free, and with one wrist out, the ropes had slackened enough that she could work the other hand loose, too. She just had to figure out her plan for escape. Jag was way bigger and stronger than she was, and Whitney didn’t have a weapon.

But there is plenty of broken glass on the floor.

“I shoved you. You fell and stared up at me like I was some kind of monster.”

Newsflash. You are.

“I just wanted things to stay the way they were! Ramsey and I had nothing when we started. We built a freaking empire, and he was going to wreck it for you! A bitch who was just playing in his world!”

“Don’t call her a bitch.” Ramsey’s lethal voice.

Her head whipped toward the bar. Ramsey stood there. He must have entered via the back door and snuck to the long, gleaming bar. His hands were on the bar top. His fingers inches from the gun that Jag had left behind.

“Ramsey?” Jag spun to face him. “What—how—”

“What am I doing here? Coming to get my lady, obviously.” His fingers drummed on the counter. His expression was absolutely savage. “How did I know where to find you? Well, easy. I figured you’d want to go someplace that would be deserted. I’d ordered the bar closed down, so it was the most obvious, deserted spot. Especially if you wanted to send a fuck-you message to me. You’d take my lady, and you’d kill her in my bar.”

Her fingers began to twist the rope. She had an idea…

“I-I didn’t…I’m not going to kill her!” Jag snapped. “I found her. That jackass Edward—he brought her here—”

“The jackass who is tied up?”

“Yes! I knocked him out and just tied him up.” Jag advanced toward Ramsey. “Look, you misheard the conversation.” His hand began to inch toward the back of his jeans.

He has another weapon hidden there. Either a gun or a knife or something.

“Edward poured alcohol all over this place,” Jag added. “I think he was going to burn the bar down—with Whitney inside.”

Whitney hadn’t spoken. Deliberately. She’d wanted Jag’s focus to shift off her. And it had. He was closing in on Ramsey. Jag’s back was to her.

So she attacked. She leapt out of her chair and she went straight for his back. She jumped up, and she looped the rope around his neck. “Liar!” Whitney screamed. She jerked back on the rope, tightening it around his neck.

Jag slammed his head back, trying to head butt her, and her feet slipped on the wet floor. She tumbled down, landing on her hip, and her hands flew out to steady herself.

Her fingers touched a broken shard of glass.

Jag wrenched her up to her feet. She realized he had pulled something out of his jeans—out of his pocket. Not the knife or gun she’d feared. No, he’d yanked out a lighter.

Oh, God.

“She’s soaking wet with booze. If I light her, she’ll get burns on her body before you can put out the flames.” Jag’s voice was musing, “Actually, I don’t even know how fast she’ll burn. Axel used to talk to me about fire. The man loved his flames. He’d know exactly how long it would take before second or third-degree burns appeared on her body.” The hand with the lighter was near her waist while his left hand had locked around her neck. “All I have to do is set her shirt on fire.”

“You’ll burn, too!” Ramsey snarled.

“Am I supposed to believe that you were going to let me walk out of here? If you’d let my plan work, I would have been okay. But when you know it’s me…when you know what I did…” His body shuddered against Whitney. His grip on her neck was so tight she could barely breathe. “We both know you won’t let me go.”

Jag was thinking about killing them both. Whitney knew she had to stop him. Her frantic gaze met Ramsey’s.

And she saw the terror in his stare. “Don’t,” Ramsey rasped. “I will give you whatever you want, but don’t do this. Move that damn lighter. Move it. And get your arm off her neck.”

Because Jag could break her neck. Whitney knew it. Ramsey did, too. One hard jerk and a guy with Jag’s power and fighting skills could kill her. It wasn’t just about the fire—no, the fire was more of a taunt, more of a way to torture Ramsey.

Jag could kill her anytime that he wanted.

“Give me what I want? What I want?” Jag’s voice rose. “I want things back the way they were! I want the empire we built. You think I don’t know you’ve been changing things? I saw the messages you sent to Aspen. You’ve been transitioning to legit businesses ever since the first moment you saw Whitney! And when she came back, you told Aspen to shift things immediately.”

“You want things back the way they were?” Ramsey nodded. “Fine. Let her go. She can walk out of the door right now, and everything will go back to what we had before.”

“You’re lying.” Jag’s voice was thick. “You won’t forgive me.”

Ramsey’s gaze said…No, I fucking won’t.

“I was going to make it look like Edward had done everything. I knew about her appointments with him. Even knew that the dick was sweet on her.”

“That’s why you got the roses sent to Whitney? All part of your frame job on Edward?” Ramsey pushed.

“Yeah. Yeah, had to give her a stalker. Had to give you an enemy.”

“A pretend enemy, you mean. The real enemy was one of my best friends.”

“If you’d let it all play out, you could have been happy!”

“There is no way I am ever happy without her.”

Okay, Ramsey’s words were beautiful, and if she hadn’t been terrified, Whitney would have been able to appreciate them more.

The flame from the lighter was dancing. “She went to see old Edward every Saturday,” Jag muttered. “So when I found out about the recovered files on that damn laptop, I just had to set the scene.”

“Set the fire, you mean?” Whitney gasped out.

“It was a distraction. I needed you away from Ramsey!” His breath heaved. “I never meant to hurt you, Ramsey. I was going to leave her and that Edward asshole both here. Let them burn. We would have been free of her.”

Her right hand had fisted.

Ramsey’s eyes were on her.

“But you don’t want to be free of her, do you?” Jag’s voice thickened. “All you want…is her.”

“Let her go,” Ramsey said again.

“You’ll kill me…”

A groan came from behind them. Edward.

But Jag jerked at the sound, and his hold on her neck loosened. She yanked up her right hand—and the broken glass that she’d hidden in her palm. She sliced it over his cheek.

He screamed and let her go.

“Run, Whitney!” Ramsey bellowed. “Run!”

She did. She rushed for the door.

And heard the thud of bodies hitting behind her. Whitney glanced back. Ramsey had tackled Jag. But…flames.

Flames. Flames were spreading with a terrible whoosh of sound. Jag must have used his lighter because flames were rushing around the room, eating at the line of liquor he’d spilled on the floor.

Frantic cries came from behind Edward’s gag.

“Get out!” Ramsey shouted to her. “I’ll get him! Go!”

“You come with me!” Whitney cried.

The flames were so greedy. Running so fast.

Jag swung at Ramsey and plowed his fist into Ramsey’s jaw.

“Get her the fuck out!” Ramsey bellowed. “Get her and the baby out!”

Who was he talking to? She—

Arms closed around her. Lifted her up. And hauled her out of the bar. “Ramsey!” Whitney screamed.

***

Smoke. Fire. Hell.

Ramsey saw the figures moving behind the wall of flames. Jinx had just carried Whitney to safety. She’s going to be all right.

War and Odin were hauling Edward out of the bar.

That just leaves me and Jag.

“Why couldn’t you have stayed away from her?” Jag panted. “We had the world at our damn feet!”

“She is my world. My fucking heart.” A broken bottle was near his shoe. His favorite whiskey. “And you tried to take her.” He crouched on the floor and stared up at his friend.

Jag screamed and ran at him.

Ramsey grabbed the broken bottle and surged to his feet. He shoved the sharp edges of the glass into Jag’s chest. He stared into Jag’s eyes as they went wide, and Ramsey smiled. “So now…I’m taking your heart.” He twisted that broken bottle and blood spilled down Jag’s chest.

***

“Let me go! Dammit, Jinx!”

“Oh, yeah, right. Because I’m really going to let you run into a burning bar. Like Ramsey would forgive that shit if I did—”

“Then go after Ramsey!” Whitney snapped. “He needs help! He needs—” She stopped.

Because Ramsey was walking out of the bar. Flames flickered in his wake. His face was cold and hard. His eyes glittered.

And the bar burned behind him.

His steps were slow and certain.

“I don’t think we want to ask where Jag is,” War muttered.

“He’s dead,” Ramsey said. “He tripped and fell on a broken bottle.”

“Uh, sure…” War inclined his head. “Totally sure that is what happened.”

Jinx let go of Whitney. She ran to Ramsey and threw her arms around him. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she held him as tightly as she could.

His arms curled carefully around her. “Are you hurt?”

“My head…it still hurts. He hit me with—”

He lifted her into his arms. “Hospital!” Ramsey shouted. “We’re getting her to a hospital right now!”

“Ramsey, the bar. It’s burning. We should call the fire department.” She tried to reason with him.

His gaze flew to hers. “Fuck the bar. I always planned to burn down that world.”

What? But he’d raced across the lot. He had her at a Jeep. She didn’t even know who owned the Jeep. He was tucking her inside and hooking the seatbelt, and her hand rose to press to his cheek. “I love you.”

He shuddered. His eyes closed. “He was going to kill you.”

“He didn’t.”

His eyes opened. “I’m getting you to the hospital. I have to know you and the baby are okay.”

She felt pressure in her stomach. A fast push, like something had rolled inside of her. Her hand flew to her stomach.

“What is it? What’s happening?” His voice broke.

“I think…I felt the baby move.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He flew back. Raced around the front of the vehicle. Jumped in the driver seat. Odin was there—and he tossed keys to Ramsey. Ramsey caught them. Fisted them.

Jinx was shouting at him.

“Not a bad movement,” she rushed to say. “I don’t feel any pain in my stomach. I just—I think I felt the baby move. I’ve never felt her move before.”

He cranked the vehicle. “Hospital.”

“Ramsey?”

“Hospital.”

And as they drove away, she looked back to see the flames rushing up the side of his bar.