Shayla Black: Their Virgin Secretary

He heard someone on the stairs behind him. Eric, who apparently refused to wait either. Kellan couldn’t expect him to stand around when someone was firing a gun at Belle. At least he would have some form of backup. If Gates shot him, perhaps Eric could finish the job and save their girl.

It felt damn good to know he wouldn’t be alone. No matter what happened to him, someone would take care of their family.

He shouldered into the room with the full force of his body and darted right past Gates, who never saw his face.

“Mike?”

Thank god he and the electrician were roughly the same size and had the same coloring. Kellan had just one shot.

He turned, raised his gun, and fired in one move.

He wasn’t a cop. He wasn’t a damn sharpshooter. He’d barely handled a gun before and instead of hitting the asshole’s chest, he only managed to get Gates’s left arm—not even the one holding the gun.

Gates gasped but lifted that weapon and fired.

Kellan felt something shove him. Someone. Just as the bullet would have hit his chest, someone he couldn’t see threw him, and he fell to the side and hit the ground on one knee, pain exploding along his leg.

“Kellan!” a feminine voice screamed.

Belle. He whirled to the sound of her voice. She looked terrified and worried, but she was alive. And that made her so beautiful to him.

Kellan lifted the gun again and fired, aiming at Gates. He could see Eric moving through the door, trying to sneak up behind the bastard. Just a few seconds more.

As he fired, he felt something hit his shoulder. There was a burst of pure fire across his skin before an odd numbness settled into his bones and the gun clattered from his hand.

“Stupid fuck.” Gates was bleeding but still on his feet. “I’m going to kill you all.”

He stood over Kellan, pointing the gun straight at his heart. Kellan swallowed, couldn’t breathe. It felt like there was a hundred pound weight sitting on his chest.

“I already called the cops.” He forced the words out. He couldn’t move his damn hand, but he could buy Eric a second or two. All that mattered was Belle.

The sirens were growing closer, the wail distinct now.

Gates’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck. You stupid son of a bitch! Now I just have to kill you faster. Mike!”

“He’s dead. And Helena is passed out. You’re alone,” Kellan warned.

Gates leveled the gun. Then suddenly, his head snapped forward, his eyes glazing over.

Eric stood behind him, the umbrella in his hand. He might have been a football player before, but the man could bat like a fucking pro.

His partner. His friend.

Gates fell to the side, and Eric kicked both of the guns out of the way and raced toward him.

Suddenly, Belle was there too, tears in her gorgeous eyes. “Oh, god, Gates shot his lung. What do we do?”

Kell could hear the panic in her voice, but the world seemed to be retreating. Darkness started at the edge of his peripheral vision and began clouding his sight.

And that was when he saw them. Three women. They stood behind Eric. One was older, but still incredibly beautiful. She wore a pretty white dress and a delicate straw hat on her head. Belle would look like this woman one day, when age had matured her, giving her a countenance of beautiful wisdom. Two younger women stood beside her. They were also dressed in white, though they seemed to be wearing clothing from an earlier decade. They looked like sisters.

What were they doing standing in this room?

The older woman smiled at him, giving Kellan a look of such beatific peace that it filled him, warming him when he’d been getting so cold before. She looked down at him.

Thank you.

She held out both of her hands and the girls took them, threading their fingers together.

We’re done here, son, but you’re not. You hold on. My baby girl needs all her men. And you tell her a cleansing will work now. The demon who lives here has been defeated. He can’t hurt these girls anymore. They’re free, and so am I. Bring new life to this place, son. It’s a good house again.

What the fuck? That couldn’t be Belle’s grandmother. He didn’t believe in ghosts.

She frowned. Such language. And you might not believe in ghosts, but this one believes in you. Hold on, Kellan Kent. If you want a future, fight for your life now.

Just before he passed out, he could have sworn he saw a light.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to walk into it. He had things to do here like marry the woman of his dreams and live happily ever after with her and his best friends.

Kellan let the darkness take him.

Kellan frowned at Eric. The sounds of the party around him filled the space and made it hard to hold a conversation with someone two feet away. When Belle threw a party, she got serious. Now that the common rooms of the house had been painted and furnished, their floors refinished to a gleam, she’d insisted on planning a party for all their friends to show off the house.

But only after he’d assured her he was going to make a full recovery from his bullet wound. At the beginning of his recovery, Belle had proven to be a hard taskmaster when it came to his rehab.

“Are you absolutely sure it wasn’t you?” Kellan asked, searching for Belle across the crowded room.

When he found her, his heart seized up. She looked luminous in a snowy white cocktail gown, the color contrasting with the gorgeous mocha of her skin. It skimmed over her every curve and showed off her truly juicy ass.

“I swear to you I didn’t push you out of the way,” Eric promised. “I had barely gotten up the stairs when that first shot rang out. I was behind Gates. How would I have pushed you? Your memory of that night is probably fuzzy. Are you sure you’re feeling all right? Maybe you’ve done too much too fast.”

Besides the fact that he was becoming more and more certain that he’d been saved by a trio of sweet-faced ghosts, he was feeling positively chipper. Well, his body was in good condition. His head was still fairly messed up, but he was going to deal with that problem tonight.

“I’m fine. I saw my personal physician when I was in Chicago.” He’d only gotten back to New Orleans a few hours before. He’d been surprised to realize just how much he’d missed the place. A week back in the city he’d called home for the last several years had proven to be illuminating. He’d thought he’d easily settle back in, but he’d longed for the sultry heat of New Orleans, for the smell of strong coffee and beignets in the morning. He’d missed so much about the city. He’d especially missed hearing Belle laugh.

Eric’s smile became tight, a sure sign he was annoyed. “How was Chicago?”

His friend likely thought he’d spent his time there working to reestablish himself. Kellan had given that notion some thought. Even after his near-death experience, the need to build walls, to make himself safe had been so strong. He’d awakened in the hospital with Belle asleep at his side, while Tate and Eric paced the floor. They had been steadfast through his recovery, and yet some part of him had still felt the urge to distance himself. He’d been so savaged by Lila and his father that he’d been reluctant to jump into his forever with two feet.

“It was nice. The office was actually in pretty good shape. Sequoia has strewn plants all around the place though,” Kellan said, taking a drink of the rum punch Belle had made. “Says the environment is more organic that way.”

Eric shook his head.

New Orleans jazz played through the living room, but the sweetest sound was Belle’s giggle as she joked with her best friend. Kinley Anthony-Anders said something else, and Belle threw her head back and laughed with unselfconscious joy.