Before Ben

by Cynthia Eden

  I didn’t kill him, though. Not that guy—and, and…maybe not this one, either. Maybe—

  The woman turned toward him, her long, thick hair flying over her shoulders. For just a moment, their stares seemed to meet.

  I’m fucking sorry. He mouthed those words.

  Then he ran.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I am fine,” Ben muttered for what had to be the tenth time.

  But Eric glared at him. And grilled the ER doc more. “You’re sure there are no internal injuries?”

  “The airbag cushioned him on impact—”

  “But he had to be cut out of the car. The firefighters on scene were using the jaws of life!”

  Ben winced. That wasn’t a memory that he particularly enjoyed. The vehicle had crumpled around him, and for a bit there, he’d blacked out. When he’d come back, Courtney had been yelling his name and fighting fiercely to get him out of the car. He’d smelled gasoline—or thought he had—and he’d tried to make her leave. He’d told her to get the hell away.

  Instead, she’d grabbed his hand and held tight until the firefighters arrived.

  They’d worried that his right leg was broken. It wasn’t, luckily. And, yeah, he knew precisely how fortunate he had been. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the slam of the impact once again. He hadn’t even seen the other car coming. He’d just seen the terror on Courtney’s face right before impact.

  “He blacked out.” Eric pointed a finger at Ben. “Does he have a concussion—”

  “Yes,” the doctor’s response was quick. Light gleamed off his glasses. “We’ll need to watch him for the next twenty-four hours. Make sure that he doesn’t exhibit confusion, slurred speech—”

  “Oh, for shit’s sake.” Ben stood up. His gaping hospital gown brought a chill to his bare ass. “I’m not confused. My speech isn’t slurred. And I just want to see Courtney.”

  Eric frowned.

  “Now.” He’d been checked out. Poked. Prodded. Screw all of that. She mattered.

  Without waiting for anyone to say more, he marched for the door and yanked it open. He stepped into the hallway. Looked left. Looked right—

  There she is.

  She shot up from one extremely uncomfortable-looking waiting room chair. There was a bandage on her cheek. What the hell? No one had told him that she’d been hurt. He hurried toward her, aware that the paper gown was flapping and not giving a shit. It wasn’t the first time he’d walked through a hospital and given folks a show. Probably wouldn’t be his last, either. Not at the rate he was going.

  “They wouldn’t let me back.” She staggered to a stop near him. But she didn’t touch him. “They said only family could go back, and I’m not family.”

  He grabbed her. Pulled her against him. And took her mouth with his.

  Behind him, Ben heard a cough and then the doc’s voice as the man noted a bit wryly, “Doesn’t seem too confused. Looks like he knows what he wants. But we should still exercise caution…”

  Fuck off, buddy.

  He was tasting Courtney. Savoring her. His arms were around her, and he was holding her tight. No, he wasn’t confused, and he had exactly what he wanted.

  But her hands slid between them and pushed against his chest.

  Reluctantly, his head lifted.

  She stared up at him with eyes that seemed so beautifully dark and deep. “I was scared.” Her voice was quiet, small. “That driver headed straight for your side of the vehicle. Some of the witnesses swore that he deliberately ran the light, that he sped up before he hit us. You were trapped, and I didn’t know how badly you were hurt, and you kept telling me to leave.”

  He kissed her again. Had to do it. “I wanted you safe.” His hand lifted, and his fingers slid tenderly along her cheek, making sure not to press against the bandage. “How bad?”

  She gave him a wan smile. “Just a scratch. Don’t know why they put the bandage on. It had already stopped bleeding when I got here.”

  He backed up so his gaze could sweep over her. “Anything else?” He wanted to make certain she was okay.

  Eric cleared his throat. “You can get dressed and then have this conversation.”

  Or he could have the conversation right the hell then because it was more important than putting on jeans. “Anything else?” Ben asked Courtney as he ignored his brother.

  “Just some bruises. Nothing to worry about.” One shoulder moved in a shrug. The top of her blouse slid to the side with the small movement, and his gaze immediately fell to the exposed curve of her shoulder.

  And the livid red mark already there.

  A savage hiss burst from him. He had a similar mark, but he didn’t give a flying shit about his. She mattered. The fact that she’d been hurt mattered.

  And he wanted to kick someone’s ass.

  His hand reached for her shirt. He unbuttoned the top button.

  She immediately swatted at his hand as red stained her cheeks. “What are you doing?”

  “Maybe he is exhibiting confusion,” Eric drawled. “Ben, stop right now and get your clothes on!”

  His fingers feathered over her shoulder, and his head bent. He pressed a soft kiss to her reddened skin. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Another kiss. “I should have done a better job of watching out for you.” He started to back away.

  Her hand flew out and curled around his wrist. “You were the driver.” Her expression was stark. Fear still lurked in her eyes, and he didn’t like that. He never wanted Courtney to be afraid. “You were the one he hit. The one who took the full impact. And we both know that vehicle barreling at us couldn’t have been some coincidence. Witnesses said he was parked there, almost waiting. When he saw us coming, that’s when he shot forward. He was waiting to attack me, but you were the one in his way. You were the one who could have—” But she broke off and looked away. “I don’t want you hurt. Not because you happen to be next to me.”

  He’d gladly stand between her and any threat—seven days a week. She should understand that.

  Before he could say something else, Eric touched his arm. “Get dressed. We still need to talk to Cole, more now than ever before.” Eric’s voice was soft, subdued.

  He’d get dressed, but Courtney would be coming with him. He reached for her hand. Pulled her with him. Brushed by the doctor and Eric. Before the exam room door closed, though, he glanced back at Eric. He wanted to make sure one thing was crystal clear. “If anything else ever happens—”

  Eric’s eyes narrowed. “It had better not.”

  Protective older bro, to the extreme. Ben almost smiled, but didn’t because this point was too damn important for humor. “She’s never left in a hallway again, you got me? Where I am, she goes. You make sure of it if I can’t.”

  He saw the flash of surprise on Eric’s face. “You know what you’re saying?”

  Yes, he did. “It’s sure as hell not the concussion talking. So make certain it happens. She’s never left alone again.” She’d been alone for too much of her life. The girl without a family—only to be told she couldn’t go in with him because she wasn’t his family? Oh, hell, no. That wouldn’t happen again. “She goes with me. Always.”

  He shut the door.

  And found Courtney staring up at him. Maybe he should explain. He didn’t want her to think that he was—

  She stepped toward him. She stretched onto her tip-toes, and her arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed him, an open-mouthed, sensual, but oddly sweet kiss. One that seemed to slide through his whole body, chasing away a chill he hadn’t even realized he felt.

  “Thank you,” she whispered against his lips.

  “For what?” He hadn’t done anything. He’d failed to keep her safe. He should have been more vigilant. Hell, his brother would have been constantly on guard. Simon would have been watching for a threat from every angle. When the other driver had run through the light and plowed into them, Ben had been looking at Courtney. He hadn’t even seen the threat coming.

>   Easing back, Courtney said, “Because, for the first time in my life, you make me feel like I belong.”

  You do, sweetheart. You belong with me. To me.

  Courtney turned away before those words could slide from his lips. She crossed the small exam room and picked up his jeans. “Here.” She offered them to him with a small smile. “I think the hospital staff would appreciate you covering up.”

  He strode toward her. Reached out for the jeans. Their fingers touched.

  “Personally,” she told him as some of the fear finally left her dark gaze, “I love the view.”

  ***

  His breath sawed in and out. He sat on the motorcycle, his legs straddling the vehicle as he waited for the payment to arrive. Unease slithered through him as he glanced around the dark parking garage. He didn’t normally handle jobs like this one. B and E’s were more his style. He’d done plenty of smash and grabs back in the day, even managed to hotwire some cars.

  No one had ever gotten hurt before he’d started working for the new boss. This had been the first time that he’d taken a job knowing that he was supposed to mess someone up. First, it had been the guy he’d been ordered to run down in the road, and, shit, he could still hear the thud of impact when he closed his eyes. His hands had gripped the steering wheel so tightly, and he’d driven right for the guy.

  Job one for the new boss.

  He’d vomited after that hit and run. Even called the hospital and been damn relieved to find out the man was still alive. Never killed anyone.

  Then the order for the second job had come through. He’d balked, but the boss had offered more money. A lot more.

  And he’d thought…maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal. Hurting someone. He could get used to it. He’d certainly gotten his ass kicked plenty of times. When you grew up poor and on the streets, it wasn’t like you were gonna have a lot of options. Until he’d become big enough to fight back, he’d been the punching bag for every punk around.

  So he’d thought he could handle it. Shit, the money had been too good to pass up. Ten thousand dollars to smash the SUV into someone else?

  Should have been easy.

  Only…

  He didn’t feel right. He kept seeing that woman as she struggled to get the guy out of the wreck. She’d been so upset. And he—he’d wanted to go back. Wanted to help. Wanted to say he was fucking sorry.

  An engine growled, and he tensed. Night was coming. He’d been hiding, laying low as the sun set. He and the boss were supposed to meet under the cover of darkness, that had been one of the rules. This old garage wasn’t used by anyone—it was too far away from Atlanta’s busy streets. On the outskirts of town, all but forgotten, it had seemed like the perfect place for a pay-off. No one would be around to watch. But…

  Why am I scared? He hadn’t been scared, not since he was sixteen and big enough to fight back.

  Headlights hit him, momentarily blinding him, and he lifted his hand to shield his gaze. He peeked around his fingers to see a big car, long, but sleek. And the driver’s side door opened even as the engine kept growling and the lights glared at him.

  The driver put one foot down on the pavement. “Ken Smith?”

  It was as good a name as any, he figured. He hadn’t used his real name in ages, sure as hell not for a job like this one. “Yeah.” His hand dropped. He squinted at the light.

  “You did a good job smashing into that Benz.”

  His stomach was in knots. “Uh, the driver got out, didn’t he? He’s okay?” He hadn’t been told to kill the guy. Just hit the car. Not so bad really…

  So why does it feel bad?

  “Does it matter?” The boss was standing behind the open car door, body partially blocked.

  “Ken” swallowed and admitted the truth, “Yeah, it does.”

  The boss glanced around the empty garage. “You’re going to grow a fucking conscience on me? Are you serious? You’re nothing but trash. Some cheap thug who breaks windows and steals jewelry or whatever crap he can find.”

  He stiffened. He wasn’t trash. He wasn’t.

  “That’s okay.” The boss’s shoulders straightened. “I can deal with this. I will deal with this.”

  The knots in his stomach were worse. “I want my money.”

  “Right.” The boss ducked back into the car.

  A sliver of relief pierced his heart.

  Right before the boss raised a hand—and the gun that had just been retrieved from the car. “Ken” didn’t even have the chance to move before the first shot was fired. It was strange because the blast seemed to echo around him, an echo that lasted for so long…he didn’t even realize he’d been shot, not at first.

  Not until he looked down and saw the blood on his shirt. After he saw the blood and as the thundering echo died away, that was when he felt the pain. A white-hot pain that burned into his chest.

  “A conscience will get me in trouble. I’m not about to let you ruin things for me.”

  Another shot. This time, “Ken” fell off his motorcycle. He tried to curl his body in, tried to protect himself—

  The pain was getting worse. His whole body was on fire.

  “Consider that your payment, asshole.”

  A car door slammed. Tires squealed.

  And he realized that he was in a pool of his own blood. So much blood. He tried to crawl back to the bike, but could barely move at all.

  He knew that he’d been left to die. The bullets were in his chest, and he couldn’t draw in a breath. Was he choking? His heart pounded so hard, and tears leaked down his face.

  The money was supposed to help him start a new life. A down payment.

  His fingers fumbled…managed to shove into his pocket. He had his phone. A two-bit piece of shit that he’d—dammit, yes—stolen earlier that day. When you had nothing, sometimes stealing was the only way to get anything.

  I stole the phone.

  I stole the jacket I’m wearing.

  I stole the fucking motorcycle.

  Because he’d just wanted something. He’d wanted a life like everyone else.

  His fingers slid over the screen. His hand was shaking. He was shaking. The fire in his chest was changing, almost numbing now. Like…like ice.

  Why was he getting cold? His quivering fingers pressed to the phone. He just had to dial three numbers. Just the nine. The one…

  And…

  The…one…

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What the fuck happened to you two?” Cole was partially sitting up in bed, and a glower hardened his face. “I’ve been trapped in this room with that bozo—” He pointed toward a silent Simon. “All day. And now you come in looking like hell—” He winced. “Well, not you, Courtney. You always look good, but that creep…” He waved toward Ben. “He’s seen better days.”

  Ben’s hands fisted. “You’re going to see a whole lot of worse days if you don’t tell me what I need to know.”

  Cole’s gaze swept over them. “Tell me what happened to you two first.”

  Courtney headed for the bed. Her fear had faded—for the moment—and rage had taken its place. When she thought of what could’ve happened to Ben…how badly he could’ve been hurt… “Some jerk in an SUV plowed into us. Drove straight through a red light and hit Ben’s side of the car.”

  Cole’s face went slack with what looked like shock. Then worry had his eyes turning to slits as his jaw hardened.

  “The driver jumped from the vehicle and ran from the scene, but the cops are looking for him now.”

  The machines around Cole beeped—fast and hard. “Shit.” He swiped his hand over his face. His right hand since the left arm was immobile in a cast. “Shit.”

  “You look like you know something about this.” Simon stalked forward, abandoning his position near the window. “You’ve got that guilty-as-hell expression that I really don’t like.”

  Cole did have that expression. Courtney fought a surge of fury. “I thought you were my friend.”

/>   “I am your friend!”

  “Bullshit,” Ben called. “You’re the guy who was spying on her. You think we didn’t find the devices at her place?”

  Cole flushed. Guilty.

  If he weren’t in a hospital bed, she’d be tempted to take a swing at him. “You put listening devices in my home?”

  “I was protecting you! I swear, that’s why I was hired.” His voice was stronger, and he looked slightly better than death today. Not much, but some. “I needed to be able to hear what was going on in your place in case there were any kind of attacks. It was for your safety!”

  She felt violated to her core. “How often did you listen?” Horrified, her gaze whipped to Ben. Oh, no, had Cole been listening when—

  Ben’s expression showed his rage. “When you’re out of the hospital bed, you and I are going to work this little situation out.”

  “I’ll help you,” Simon offered.

  Ben nodded.

  Her gaze darted back to Cole. So the hell will I.

  “Dammit, it was a job.” Cole squeezed his eyes shut. “I was protecting her. And, look, no, when you two started your—hell, no, I didn’t listen, okay? I don’t need to hear that shit. I just turned the surveillance on long enough to make sure there wasn’t any threat. That is what I was supposed to do. My employer was worried about her. He put me on her trail so she could stay safe. And the car wreck today—”

  “That was no accident,” Ben cut in.

  “No, it was deliberate. It was an attack! That is exactly what my employer feared would happen.”

  “Who is your employer?” Courtney asked.

  He seemed to falter. “I don’t know. The money arrived in my account every month. I was emailed instructions about what to do. I was given a name for my employer, but a quick search let me know the name was BS.”

  Simon blew out a frustrated breath. “And that crap didn’t raise like a million red flags for you?”

  “Yes!” Fast and hard beeps sounded from the machines near Cole. “But I needed the cash so I took the job, and then when I met Courtney…” His gaze locked on hers. “I liked you.”