Forever Hidden (Forever Bluegrass #2) (18 page)

“All units, we have an assault with suspect still on site. Wyatt Farm in Keeneston,” the dispatcher said on the police scanner sitting on the side table of the security room. Deacon felt his heart stop as the dispatcher rattled off the address.

“Be advised, the victim is on scene, armed, and guarding the suspect. The victim is Sheriff Marshall Davies’s daughter. Handle with care,” the dispatcher said.

Deacon was out the door before he could hear the rest of the dispatcher’s information. All he knew was Sydney was hurt, but at least she was well enough to call in the attack. Deacon felt fear’s icy hold as he sped out of Desert Farm and tried to remember the way to Mrs. Wyatt’s farm. He tried to call Sydney, but the phone rang and went to voicemail.

Deacon gunned the old truck and shot down the narrow country road. He flew past a gated entrance and slammed on his brakes a mile down the road as Marshall Davies went flying by him in the opposite direction.

“Shit,” Deacon cursed as he bounced through the grass to turn the truck around. The cruiser was already out of sight as he coaxed the old truck to go faster. He should have slowed down to read the name on the gate. He turned into the driveway and the gate slid open.

By the time he arrived at the old house, a Kentucky state trooper and a sheriff’s cruiser were parked by the front door. Deacon didn’t even bother to turn off the truck as he jumped out and raced inside.

“I won’t leave your side, not for one minute,” he heard Sydney’s dad say as Deacon rushed into the room.

“Sydney, are you okay?” Deacon asked as he tried to pry Sydney from her father’s grasp. He was pretty sure Marshall growled at him as he tightened his grip on his daughter.

“Dad, I can’t breathe,” Sydney said, mushed against her father’s chest.

Marshall loosened his grip and Sydney tried to turn toward Deacon, but her father didn’t let her. “And where were you? How do we know it wasn’t you that assaulted her?”

Deacon felt his eyes go wide. “Me?” he gasped. He didn’t even know what to say to that.

“Knock it off, Dad. It wasn’t Deacon and you know it. Deacon, it was Vic. He found me here,” Sydney said as she tried to step out of her father’s grasp. “Dad, will you please let me go to my boyfriend?”

Her father growled again. “I should have known better than to trust a PI with my daughter’s safety.”

“Don’t worry, sir. From now on I won’t leave Sydney’s side,” Deacon said as he mimicked Marshall’s early statement.

Annie shook her head as Sydney was finally enfolded in Deacon’s arms. “I can’t wait for dinner tonight! Speaking of which, we need to get going. Matt, you got this?”

“Sure do.” Matt held out his hand to Deacon and Deacon shook it. “Wish I had a chance to get to know you,” he chuckled before heading back down into the basement.

Annie dragged Marshall to the cruiser and finally Deacon could focus on Sydney. “I don’t think your father likes me.”

“My father doesn’t like anyone who’s interested in me,” Sydney sighed.

“Are you up for tonight? Will you tell me what happened?” Deacon asked.

“You don’t know my family. If I don’t go, they’ll just hunt me down,” Sydney said before filling him in on what happened and then listening as Deacon told her about Bailey. “But I can’t get into that party,” Sydney complained.

“I know. You’ll take half of Zain’s security guards and hit the other parties going on at that time. But, after this incident, I think you should stay here with your dad.”

Sydney stopped walking toward the car. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. If Vic is after you, then you should be protected.”

“I can’t believe it. You’re just like him. I’m surprised you aren’t best friends.”

Deacon opened Sydney’s door for her before turning off the truck, grabbing a box from the back, and sliding into the driver’s seat of Sydney’s SUV. “We need to find a new way to explain my being around you at the parties until Zain and I go to this private party.”

“I’ll think of something. But the more pressing matter is I have ten minutes to prep you for the longest night of your life,” Sydney said seriously.

Deacon chuckled before leaning across the console and placing a quick kiss on her lips. “It’s just dinner. Why is everyone being so dramatic about this?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Deacon pulled Sydney’s SUV to a stop in front of the white wooden farmhouse. Her grandparents’ house was always a special place. Every week, the entire family would gather. Extra tables had to be put up since the dining room table only fit her parents' generation. Since then, their grandfather had bought banquet tables and extended the dining room table all the way into the living room. It was a free-for-all to get one of the ends—that’s where Grandma Davies would set her pies after dinner.

It was a place of happy memories, freshly baked cookies, and slumber parties with the cousins when they were young. But tonight the brightly lit house was savage. It didn’t smell of fried chicken and pies. It smelled of the pending death of her relationship. Her family was plastered to the window, staring out at them in eager anticipation of tearing her boyfriend to shreds and sending him screaming into the night.

“Let’s go,” Sydney said quickly as she put her seatbelt back on.

“Let me just get the box I brought and then we can go inside,” Deacon said as he went to open his door.

“No, I mean leave here. Let’s go home,” Sydney said with forced excitement. When Deacon just shook his head and grinned at her, she sweetened the pot. “I’ll do kinky things. I have lots of scarves.”

Deacon’s eyes melted as they traveled her body. She thought she had him until he sent her a wink. “I’ll look forward to that after dinner.” And then the dumb bastard got out of the car, opened the back door, pulled out a box, and walked around to open her door.

Sydney took his hand as he helped her from the SUV. “Just don’t show any fear. They feed on that.”

“Darlin’, if I can handle the debutantes and their mothers at the Daughters of Atlanta Ball, then I think I can handle a family dinner filled with people who love you just as much as I do. Besides, from all of Mrs. Wyatt’s letters, I feel as if I’m already part of the family,” he said as he smiled at her. Bless his heart.

The front door was flung open and her grandparents stepped out onto the porch to greet them. Sydney slid her hand into Deacon’s for support as he walked toward his death, smiling cheerfully.

“Grandma, Grandpa, this is Deacon McKnight. Deacon, these are my grandparents, Jake and Marcy Davies,” Sydney introduced. Her grandparents were usually the nice ones. It was the pack of wolves behind them that weren’t.

Deacon let go of her hand to shake hands with her grandfather before reaching into the box and pulling out a small bouquet of gardenias. “Mrs. Davies, Mrs. Wyatt told me what a special friend you were to her. I’m so pleased to finally meet you in person,” Deacon said sincerely as he handed the fragrant flowers to her grandmother.

Marcy beamed. Sydney's father stood in the doorway behind her and frowned. “Oh, what a nice young man you have here, Sydney. It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Deacon. Welcome to our home.”

Sydney breathed her first sigh of relief. He’d made it through the first round. But he was about to run the gauntlet as the aunts, uncles, and cousins lined the entrance into house. Sydney narrowed her eyes and stared them down. Deacon wasn’t like the others. He really loved her, and she didn’t want to lose him.

“Mrs. Davies, it’s so nice to see you again,” Deacon said with a smile that had her mother blushing as he handed her a bundle of roses. “And Mr. Davies, I’m looking forward to hanging out with you tonight. We haven’t had much time to get to know each other. Sydney tells me you enjoy shooting. We’ll have to go sometime.”

Sydney almost choked. Her father was squeezing Deacon’s hand so hard his knuckles were white, but Deacon just smiled before turning to Annie. “It’s good to see you again, Annie. Is it okay if I call you that, or would you prefer Mrs. Davies as well?” Deacon asked as he handed her a bouquet of daisies.

Annie took the flowers and smiled. “Annie is fine. This is my husband, Cade.”

Layne, Miles and Morgan’s only child and one of Sydney’s closest cousins, leaned forward and whispered, “Oh, he’s smooth. The aunts are melting. Hell, so am I.”

Sydney nodded at her cousin. Tonight Layne’s long black hair was hanging loose and made her look soft—exactly what she wasn’t. Her father was an ex-Special Forces leader. While Layne was a physical therapist, she knew more ways to kill someone with her hands than how to heal them, thanks to Miles.

“I know. There might be hope for him yet.”

Layne shook her head. “Don’t count on it. The men look aggravated that he’s winning over their wives.”

Sydney watched as Deacon handed flowers to her remaining aunts—Paige, Gemma, and Tammy—before setting his box down. He turned to Sydney’s cousins and quirked his lips in an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, ladies. I didn’t bring enough flowers for all of you. I’ll remember it next time. I’m Deacon,” he said, holding out his hand to them.

“I’m Riley,” the redhead said, sticking out her hand. “This is my twin, Reagan. We belong to Cy and Gemma. Our mom’s the one you gave gardenias to. Our dad is the one that already ran a background check on you, right down to the results of your last STD test.”

Sydney would kill them. But Deacon just laughed as he shook her hand.

“Aw, bless his heart, he thinks you’re joking,” Piper said as if Deacon was too dumb to realize he was being made fun of. Piper was Tammy and Pierce’s oldest child and a lab geek like her father. She was always trying to invent something new. Unlike her father, though, she didn’t build things. She played with genes and viruses.

Deacon sent her a wink. “I’ve been told I am blessed, but it wasn’t my heart they were talking about.”

Piper snorted and turned to Sydney with a grin on her face. “Okay, I like this one,” she said before sauntering into the dining room to help set the table.

“Deacon,” Sydney said as she placed her hand on his arm, “I want you to meet Layne and Sophie. Layne is Miles and Morgan’s daughter. Miles is the one glaring at you. Oh, I guess I should be more specific. He’s the taller one glaring you. His wife has black hair and you gave her irises. And Sophie is Cade and Annie’s oldest daughter.”

“Ladies, it’s nice to meet you. Sydney has told me all about you both.” Deacon shook their hands and Sydney dared to breathe a little easier as Ryan and Sienna joined them.

Ryan shook Deacon’s hand, and Sydney heard someone whisper, “Traitor.” Ryan just shook his head and turned to the group of men circling like sharks behind them. “I’ve already met him. Give me a break. I have to save my interrogation for when Greer brings someone home,” Ryan said about his little sister who was graduating from college in a couple months.

Sydney’s grandmother clapped her hands and her grandfather let out a shrill whistle. “Chow’s ready!” Grandpa called out as everyone hurried to find a seat.

Deacon had Sydney’s hand in his and one second later he didn’t. Suddenly he found himself being shuffled into the dining room by a wall of men while Sydney was shut out of the dining room altogether.

“Dad!” Sydney yelled warningly from her place at the far end of the table.

“What?” Marshall replied innocently.

Deacon looked at where he’d been escorted. He was the third seat in from the end. The first belonged to Cade, then Miles. On his other side were Marshall and Pierce. Across from him were Cy and two younger men who wore the same Davies glare as the older men. Deacon’s hand tightened on his fork. He knew an ambush when he saw one.

“So, which cousins are you?” Deacon asked as he let go of his fork and tried to casually scoop some homemade macaroni and cheese onto his plate.

“Does it matter?” asked the muscled one with a hard glint to his eye and the hint of a tattoo peeking out from under the V-neck of his tight black shirt.

Deacon shrugged as he passed the macaroni and cheese to Marshall. “
Hey You
is easier to remember.”

The other young man’s silver eyes shone with amusement, but he quickly banked it. “So, Uncle Cy, what did you find out about our friend here?”

“I’m so glad you asked, Jackson. Our
friend
here is a trust fund brat who escorts debs around at
society
events,” the man with the short light brown hair said with distaste.

“Guilty. Or at least I used to be. Haven’t done that in years. Although, the dance lessons my mother forced me to take paid off. Do you know how much women love a man who can dance?” Deacon asked as he casually moved his hand from where Marshall was dangerously close to stabbing him with his dinner knife. “Is that all you’ve got? For a super-spy, that’s pretty lame. But, I guess you are retired.”

Cy’s lip rose in a snarl. “Oh, I know a lot more. All the way down to the fact you got a C+ in Algebra in the ninth grade and that your dentist thinks you need to floss more.”

Deacon took a bite of the fried chicken and groaned. “Mrs. D, this is amazing. And everyone needs to floss more. Did you find the four parking tickets, three speeding tickets, my concealed-carry permit, and the fact I’m really hoping to meet Trey Everett while I’m here? Oh, and don’t forget my clean blood test from last month when I donated blood.”

Deacon dug into his dinner as he felt the men beside him move into action. He leaned forward and sent a smile to a very worried-looking Sydney. She didn’t look reassured.

“What are your intentions toward my daughter?” Marshall asked.

“How much money do you make? Can you support her?” Miles asked.

“Will you sign a pre-nup?” Pierce asked as he leaned forward.

“Of course he won’t. If he does, he won’t be able to access her money when she ditches him,” Cade sneered.

“It must be emasculating to know no matter how much money you do have, she’ll have more,”
Hey You
said.

“And if you’re with Sydney, you will stop being Deacon McKnight and just be the guy that super-smart, beautiful, and powerful Sydney is dating. It would suck to know your name will never be remembered, and the only time people will talk about you is to wonder why Sydney would be with someone like you,” Jackson smirked.

Deacon took a bite of his dinner before clearing his throat. “I love your daughter, and I want to be free to explore what kind of future we have together.” He turned to Miles. “I don’t make much money, but then as Cy said, I don’t need it. While I do get paid, and paid well for my high-profile cases, I then turn around and use most of that money to work on cases for people who don’t have the money to pay my regular fees.” Deacon looked to Cade and then Pierce. “And yes, I’ll happily sign a pre-nup. When Sydney and I get to the point of marriage, a pre-nup will be a moot point anyway. When I finally decide to marry someone, it’ll be forever.”

Deacon took another bite of dinner and took his time enjoying it before looking across the table at her cousins. “And I don’t give a flying shit in space what others think about me. I only care what Sydney thinks. Further, only a self-absorbed little twit with no confidence in himself as a man would care that the woman he loves makes more money than he does. You don’t care, do you, Cy? Your wife has sold three books that have been turned into movies and has made a fortune off of them while I believe you just enjoy a normal government pension every month.”

Deacon turned in his seat toward Marshall. “And we don’t even need to address the fact that you, a small-town sheriff, married a supermodel. You didn’t care. I don’t care.” Deacon smiled at him then. “Maybe Sydney was right.”

“Right about what?” Marshall asked reluctantly.

“Oh, she was just surprised at how much we had in common. And don’t get me started on Pierce and Tammy’s relationship and how he was too dumb to recognize the perfect woman standing in front of him until he almost lost her. I’m already miles ahead there; I realize how special and perfect Sydney is.”

Deacon turned to his left and looked at Miles and Cade. “Further, if I leave dinner tonight with the family’s blessing, I’ll gladly roast the next poor bastard who’s in this seat, and who will probably belong to one of your daughters.” Deacon turned to a highly amused Marcy. “Ma’am, if dinner was this fantastic, I can’t imagine what dessert is like. Is it one of your famous apple pies?”

“It sure is, young man. But first, how do you feel about babies? I can’t die happy until I’ve held a great-grandchild in my arms. And since Ryan isn’t cooperating yet . . .”

Marshall groaned along with his brothers. “Mooooom, really?”

Marcy lifted a delicate shoulder. “I couldn’t let you boys have all the fun. So, what is it, young man?”

“Well, I fear this may mean I don’t get dessert—” Deacon started.

“Yes!” Marshall cried as he pumped his fist.

“But,” Deacon said, ignoring Sydney’s father who clearly thought that meant there was no hanky-panky going on, “I love children. I want as many as I can get. However, that’s for Sydney and me to decide, no matter how much we love and respect you and your desire for great-grandchildren.”

Miles sucked in his breath next to him and whispered, “You’re a dead man.”

Marcy stared at him and then gave a brief nod before silently getting up and leaving the table.

Cade laughed from where he sat at the end of the table. “We could have skipped this whole production if we just had Mom go first.”

“That’s too bad,” Cy said a little disappointed. “I was just beginning to like him.”