Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  He pushed himself off the gurney only to land on a hard floor that tilted and moved. Damn painkillers. They could lessen pain, but it never was gone fully, and they made him unstable and muddled.

  At least Starr was okay, or so said the nurse, the one kind person in the place who’d relayed his “girlfriend” just had some bumps and bruises. He needed to find her, that is, if she'd ever want to see him again after the Ruark bombshell. He should have shared that with her weeks ago.

  He took his time putting one foot in front of the other as if walking slowly would delay the inevitable. As soon as he was through the curtain, one of the cops grasped his bicep. Fuck him, he was getting an escort. The cop jerked him forward. “Your parole officer is here.”

  Thick block wooden chairs, padded in orange and green fabric, lined the waiting area walls.

  Erin stood and crossed her arms. “I’ve got this,” she said to the officer whose grip hadn’t lessened one bit during the long, slow trek to her. She held a plastic bag, which probably held his phone and wallet. She handed it to him.

  The cop nodded once and left them alone in the quiet waiting room. It was, what? 4:00 a.m. by now?

  She jerked her jeans jacket into place. “Tell me.”

  “MacKenna nabbed Starr. The police—”

  “You called them?”

  “No. I think it might've been Carragh MacKenna. The brother.” At least that was as much as his brain could deliver as an answer. The cops had been just as rough as MacKenna’s goons, and between getting beat up, shot, and attempting to save Starr, he was lucky if he could remember his name.

  “Plausible deniability.” Erin's voice was definitive. “Makes this Carragh look like he's on the straight and narrow, showing up to break up a fight. Hmm. Ruark MacKenna might get off if no one presses charges, and the payoff is high enough.”

  Her words made sense. For all the cops knew, Ruark was merely there to stop the thugs he'd hired from harming him and Starr. Nathan had seen first-hand how the word of a MacKenna overrode truth, no matter how obvious.

  “Nathan.”

  He stopped contemplating his boots, stained with dried blood, and looked up at her.

  “You fight MacKenna?”

  “Does harsh language count?” Sure he’d clocked that scum who’d manhandled Starr, but Ruark had gone untouched.

  “Good man.” She took in a long breath. “But this is the third strike.” She sat in one of the chairs and patted the one next to her. “Okay, start from the beginning, and don’t you fucking dare leave out a single detail. I’m recording this.” She pulled out her phone. By the end, she’d done him a solid and gave him the truth. He’d go to jail until the investigation was sorted, which could be never. He was sure they would find some rule they could use to revoke his parole despite the fact Ruark was responsible for this whole cluster, and it involved felonious activities. Nathan had been coerced into the car with Ruark, but the law would only see he’d gotten involved. Instant parole violation.

  “Well, at least, the cops are fairly convinced you didn’t start the fight. Ruark and company still might get charged. Anyone ask you to press charges?” Erin asked.

  Why would they? “Starr should do that. Ruark was going to kill her.”

  “Yeah, well, she may not even have to.” Erin rose. “Listen, let me talk to the cops over there. Find out what the fuck is going on. Don’t move. I’ll be right over there.” She pointed to the entrance area where two cops stood clutching coffee cups.

  After she strode away, he hung his throbbing head. If he could just close his eyes for a minute …

  “Nathan.” Starr’s distressed voice nearly made him jump out of his skin. He grunted at the resulting agony. The damned painkillers were starting to wear off.

  He rose, slowly, as every part of him ached and creaked.

  Her face, grayed with fatigue, etched with deep lines in her forehead, was almost too much to bear. Dark circles under her eyes competed with the purpling on her neck and arms. She touched his arm, tentatively, as if one might touch a stranger. “You look terrible.”

  He didn't know why that made him laugh, but it did. Sharp glass spikes from his bruised ribs drove into his side, and he bent over a little. “Just got grazed. It's nothing.” His injuries wouldn't stop him from being chained, hobbled, and taken to a cell until they could transfer him.

  Starr shuffled on her feet. “Is what Ruark said, true? You're married?”

  Shit. Okay, they were starting there. “Divorced.”

  “And you have a child.”

  His throat squeezed just enough to make him force down a swallow. “A girl. Madeline.” God, he hadn't said her name in so long it razored his throat when it came out. But that might be just his battered ribs that sent a shooting pain through his body every time he moved.

  She grasped her bottom lip in her teeth for a second. “How old is she?”

  “Nine. I think.” He tried not to think about how long it’d been.

  That was clearly the wrong thing to say as her face hardened. Those eyes of hers, though, they colored with something entirely new—disappointment.

  She elevated her chin a little. “You never mentioned her.”

  “I’ve never seen her. Dawn, that’s my ex, told me to stay away. She didn’t want a convicted felon around her. So out of respect, I did what she asked.”

  “Don’t you want to—”

  “See her? Hell, yeah. I mean, I had a family who abandoned me once I got put away. I’d never want Madeline to think I didn’t want her.” A searing hot poker went through his chest when he sucked in a frustrated breath.

  “I'll bet she's a doll. With your kind eyes and smile. The dove tattoo. It's for her, isn't it?”

  “Yes.” He couldn’t look at her.

  “Miss O’Malley.” Carragh’s unwelcomed voice filled the space. He sauntered over and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. “I understand we’ve had a … misunderstanding.”

  “Is that what you’re calling it?” She showed off her arm. “I'm sure the witnesses here would agree these bruises didn't come from harsh language.”

  So she wasn't so cowed by what had happened.

  Carragh widened his stance. “My brother could have been trying to protect you from those two criminals.”

  Ah, so he was going with the “them versus us” theory. The guys they hired were the scum, and the MacKennas? Golden boys. Nathan shook his head at the guy whose face wore such serenity it had to be a practiced mask.

  Starr raised an eyebrow. “Is that why he pointed a gun at Nathan and me? Repeatedly?”

  “She could press for kidnapping, not just false imprisonment,” Nathan stated. “Oh, and threats of sexual assault on top of kidnapping? Felonies everywhere.” If he were going to go down, he'd go down fighting, and there was one advantage to incarceration, if you paid attention, you learned a fuck-ton about the law.

  “No such thing occurred.” The man's cool, smooth tone wasn't helping Nathan tamp down his anger—not one bit.

  Starr didn't give an inch. “Says the man who didn’t see the half of it. Unlike you alpha-holes, I don't lie.”

  God, Nathan loved this woman.

  MacKenna scratched his chin. “How about this? If you don't press charges⸺”

  “We don't need to press anything.” Nathan wasn’t going to be cowed anymore by this family. “Facts are facts. This isn't a CSI episode.”

  MacKenna’s mask cracked and he glared at him. “If you'll let me finish? We'll pay for everything that was ... inadvertently damaged in this misunderstanding. I understand Mr. Phillip's club had to put in a new door. And, of course, Miss O'Malley, any work you may have to miss due to your encounter with those other gentlemen.” He ran evaluating eyes over her body. Nathan had never wanted to hit a man so badly as in that moment—and that was saying something.

  “We'll cover any lost wages for as long as you need.” He straightened a cuff, a move so patronizing Nathan almost risked a move.


  His eyes shot over to Nathan. “And as for you. This feud you have with my brother? It's over. We'll chalk it up to some testosterone matches.”

  “You're kidding me, right?” Nathan couldn't believe the man’s bullshit could grow any deeper yet here they were.

  “We’ve lost one brother. I’m sure my father doesn’t want to lose another son.”

  “Guess he should have had better parenting skills.”

  “What’s going on here?” Erin appeared and muscled her way between Carragh and himself.

  Carragh didn’t flinch. “I was just expressing my dismay to Miss Starr here. Such poor behavior. I don't know where those men came from.”

  Erin squinted up at the man. “Uh, huh. They’re keeping Ruark overnight, as well.”

  “Why?”

  “Bail hearing will be held tomorrow. Thing is, exactly how this goes down depends on Miss O'Malley’s final statements.” The woman turned toward Nathan and Starr. “If they consider them ‘complete.’” She considered Starr, in particular.

  Holy shit, his parole officer was giving her an opportunity. Was it to recant or to expand on what she said had occurred?

  “I might have more to say.” Starr smiled at Erin. “Of course, it's my understanding at any point in the next seven years I can press charges, right?”

  “I'm no lawyer, but I'd say if you remember anything, Miss O’Malley, they’d be happy to hear it.”

  Starr eyed the man once more. “Well, since Mr. MacKenna here is assuring me his family doesn't have anything else to say, I might not, either. It's interesting how when two people agree, when they are, how should I say, at peace over things, life can go on. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. MacKenna?”

  “I would indeed, Miss O'Malley.”

  “Oh, and that goes for Nathan, Declan, and my sisters, too.” She stepped closer to Carragh.

  Nathan wanted to pitch himself between them, but watching this bizarre exchange, he found his feet frozen.

  “We've always been a hardy bunch. It would be unusual for the stress of this situation to impact our health.” She laughed lightly. “In fact, I do believe we'll all live to be a hundred.”

  “Then that is where we are the same.” MacKenna's face slowly stretched into a grin. He looked ... amused? “To a long life, Miss Midnight Starr, for you and your sisters.” He nodded his head at each of them and turned to walk away.

  So his little firecracker tried to broker a peace deal. Even if she could, the MacKennas would never honor such a thing. Besides, Ruark was going to do time. The law didn't take kidnapping lightly.

  “Come on.” Erin inclined her head. “Car’s out front. We’ve gotta go.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Starr hooked her arm in his. He reveled in her warmth, in the softness of her skin against his. It helped with the pain a little, though the good feeling wouldn’t last. He was going to have to let her go for real this time.

  47

  Bus exhaust and summer heat smacked his face as soon as he was through those double glass doors of the emergency room. A pinkish dawn had broken outside. Holding Starr’s hand, he took time to drink in the scene, letting the humidity as thick as being smothered in wet blankets, coat his skin. Two cops kept watch over them; Erin moved twenty feet away to yammer into her cell phone.

  They’d been told he had ten more minutes before he’d be taken away.

  Lowering heavy eyelids, he concentrated on the sounds all around him just in case he might not get to hear “normal” again. When he popped open his eyes, the sky’s light had given way to a bright yellow, morning sun. That’s how fast life changed. One minute you’re a college student. Then you’re a felon. One minute you might get your life back. Then, you don’t.

  Declan pulled up. Phoenix and Luna rushed out of the car immediately to embrace their sister. He still didn’t let go of her hand. He was unable and unwilling to break contact with Starr, even when they hugged, chattered, and fussed over her. Knowing she had such family back up soothed his worry a bit.

  Declan positioned himself in front of him. “My attorney will meet us at the court office.”

  “Thanks, man.” No legal mind was going to change the fact the law considered him a parolee who’d broken his agreement by way more than just crossing a state line. He appreciated the futile attempt anyway.

  The glass doors whooshed open, and Carragh sauntered out with two more cops, one of them laughing at something MacKenna had said. Nathan's skin chilled. The level of familiarity, not to mention friendliness between the men, shouldn’t have been a surprise.

  Then the inexplicable happened. Declan strode over to Carragh.

  Before he could puzzle out what was happening, Phoenix spoke to him.

  “What was that?” He hadn’t really heard her, his eyes not believing that he saw the two men talking in hushed tones.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “For saving our sister. When you guys didn’t show up at home, well … we didn’t know.”

  Home. Yeah, he’d almost had one, hadn’t he? “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.”

  “We know.” Luna squeezed his wrist.

  A shadow fell over them as Declan and Carragh joined them.

  “Declan, take care of her for me. Please.” His eyes shot up to Carragh. “You fucking go near her—’

  “Back down, Baldwin.” His bored tone matched his lids hanging half-mast as if he’d been through this scene a million times.

  Declan thumped his cane. “They aren’t going to harm her or anyone else. I’ve made sure of it.”

  He couldn’t promise that.

  “See you around, cousin.” Carragh slapped Declan across the back and swaggered over to meet a black Mercedes that screeched to a halt in the fire lane. Sunlight gleamed off its perfect exterior.

  Nathan stared hard at Declan. “What was that? Cousin?”

  “I can explain later.”

  A man rose from the back seat, adjusted his glasses, and drew a briefcase from the floorboard. Another older man, silver-haired with a face as still as stone, stepped from the front passenger side. The two of them stared at him, and then their gazes drifted lazily over each of the others.

  The elderly gentleman's nose appeared as if it had been broken more than a few times, but he wore his expensive suit as if it were made for him. They left the car with its driver sitting in the fire lane as if they owned the place. They might. Carragh met them halfway and shook their hands.

  Nathan turned to Declan. “Why do I have a feeling that's Ruark's legal team?”

  A muscle in Declan's jaw twitched. “Not exactly.” He swung his gaze to him. “It's Papa MacKenna. When in doubt, go to the top.”

  “You know him?”

  Declan didn’t answer but squared himself behind his cane when the elderly man nodded at him.

  The guy then turned to Carragh. “Button it up, and don’t take too long.”

  Carragh simply ran his finger over his bottom lip but trailed behind the two men as they stepped through the glass doors to go inside.

  A cop broke into their group and raised his eyebrows. “Gotta go, man.”

  “Just a few more minutes,” Starr pleaded.

  “Sorry, Miss O’Malley.” He gave her a compassionate half-smile. “We’ve stretched out the time all we can.” He unhooked his cuffs from his belt. “Sorry, man, gotta do this. Hands behind your back.”

  Nathan turned away from the cop and put his hands behind him. He forced himself to stare into Starr’s Caribbean blue eyes one more time.

  She swung her arms around his neck and crashed her mouth into his. Pain exploded in his chest, his shoulder, but damned if he’d have stopped her, even as the cold cuffs snapped around his wrists.

  She broke the kiss but didn’t loosen her hold on him.

  He’d give anything to brush her red hair from her forehead. “Sorry I’m not going to be able to get you that boat.”

  “I don’t care about boats.” She rose higher on her tiptoes.

 
; “You should. You deserve it and more. Listen, Starr, I—”

  “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it,” she whispered into his mouth and then kissed him again. He would never, ever forget the taste of her, the softness of her lips and skin, the flash in her eyes.

  His gaze floated over all the people left on the sidewalk. Declan, Luna, Phoenix, and even his parole officer, stood there as if a show of force would change his circumstances. It wouldn't, but a curious sense of belonging overcame him. A crushing sense of loss washed it away just as quickly.

  The cop lowered him into the backseat and slammed the door. He searched Starr’s face and committed to memory every freckle. He only broke contact with her when the glass of the window went up. He couldn’t watch those blue eyes fill up with tears. He faced the front seat, stared at the back of the cop’s head, and didn’t dare look back again.

  Chapter 48

  Three Months Later

  Welcomed, bright sunlight cut into his eyes. The noisy clank of the chain-link gates closing behind him startled him. He finally stood on the other side of those cold, silver, diamond-shaped twists of metal that had caged him for three months. He drew in the bus fumes and the scent of some distant fire. Burning leaves—it was a beautiful scent.

  As if on cue, a leaf skittered across the cracked asphalt, and the distance hum-rattle of a bus accelerating urged him to step forward.

  “Hey, handsome. See you still have your beard.”

  He pivoted to look up the street. His eyes weren't working properly in the sunlight because a voluptuous figure sat on the hood of a white mustang, leaning back, her hands splayed behind her, her legs swinging a little against the side of the car. Her red hair lifted in the wind.

  He hung his head, his gaze falling to the ground and then back up sharply, expecting her to be gone—just gone.

  He tapped his bottom lip with his index finger. “Nice car.”