by Karen Renee
Cecilia walked into the kitchen wearing red and white polka-dot pajama shorts with a red tank-top. She looked at the food containers and arched a brow.
“We do have plates, you know.”
I stuck a fork in the pasta and slid her container toward her on the breakfast bar. “But the food’s better hot, so putting it on a plate is just a waste of time.”
She shook her head with a grin on her face. “You want to eat at the table or on the couch?”
“Table works.”
“What do you want to drink? There’s water, club soda, cranberry juice, or I think there’s an open bottle of white wine that some guy brought for Madison. Says she isn’t going to finish it because she didn’t like it.”
“Water, babe. White wine doesn’t go with lasagna.”
We sat down with our food, and after Cecilia swallowed her first bite her eyes lit up. “This might be the best pasta I’ve ever had.”
I grinned. “There’s no might about it, Sunflower. Giovanni’s doesn’t fuck around.”
She nodded. “So, what’d you do today? Besides get me dinner?”
“Not a lot. Hit the grocery store, then the gym.”
She nodded.
“Oh, and Pop called. Seems my mom wants to have a belated birthday dinner with me, Pop and my brothers.”
She held a garlic knot aloft. “And is that a problem?”
I blinked. “Uh, yeah. It’s a problem.”
Her brows furrowed. “How so? Sounds like she’s turning over a new leaf.”
“Little late for that,” I muttered, shoveling lasagna in my mouth.
“Didn’t you say your Pop kept her away from you guys because he didn’t want you and Vamp to taint Gabe’s view of her?”
I kept quiet, but jerked my chin up an inch in agreement as I swallowed my lasagna.
“Then, I wouldn’t say it’s too late, but that she was kept at bay. Now she doesn’t have to be. You’re an adult. So are Gabe and Vamp. You guys have to decide if you’re willing to forgive and move forward.”
I gave her a bit of my side-eye. “Well, she wants us to come to her place, and Pop and Marnie. You’re welcome, too, so what day works best for you?”
Her eyes widened and her head went back an inch. “Me?”
I grabbed her free hand on the table and gave it a squeeze. “Yeah, you.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment before she asked, “Won’t that be awkward?”
I shook my head. “Why would it be?”
“Um, she was my therapist. And of course, she violated my privacy by giving you my address.”
I couldn’t hold back an impish grin. “Probably one of the better things she’s done if you ask me.”
Her eyes reluctantly agreed. “Still, um... why would you want me there?”
“Seriously, Sunflower? How about because I’m serious about you?”
Discomfort flitted across her face. “Sorry. I’m not used to this. A serious relationship.”
I squeezed her hand again. “I have anything to do with it, you’re gonna damn well get used to it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
No Moving On, Baby
Cecilia
Whether it was nerves or Brock’s extreme body heat I didn’t know, but something woke me up an hour before my alarm.
I stretched for a long moment. As I relaxed, Brock’s arm moved, his hand stroking with purpose.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whispered.
His face went into my neck where he kissed me. “Not a problem, Sunflower. You goin’ back to sleep? Or are you awake and that’s that?”
Between his face in my neck and his hand gliding on my body, there was no way I would find sleep again. “I would say I’m definitely awake.”
His tongue trailed down my neck. “Will it mess with your mojo if I shower with you? You might relieve some stress and jitters that way.”
A curl of anticipation ran from my nipples down to my core. “Are you sure you don’t need to sleep more?”
His chuckle was low and husky. “Not if it means I get to take care of my morning wood with you.”
I ran my hand up his arm, twisted to roll toward him, and gently captured his earlobe with my teeth. “Okay, honey.”
COMPLIMENTS OF SHOWERING with Brock —amongst other things— I entered my audition feeling ready for anything. Meeting with my therapist an hour before my audition helped too, since her advice kept me grounded. She was also insistent that I have a plan for how I would handle rejection.
Auditions were like any other job interview, but a hundred times worse. Mainly because you sat in a waiting room with the vast majority of your direct competition.
Once I was ushered to the stage, I sang “Let It Go,” and thought I knocked it out of the park. Then a woman, who introduced herself as being from the HR department, asked me to sing “The Bare Necessities.” There was a moment where I questioned whether I had the lyrics right, but I powered past it, though I thought my voice wavered for a note. A director instructed me to sing a few other songs which were exclusive to the Main Street Parades at Walt Disney World.
When my time ended, I received a variation on the tried-and-true line of ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you,’ and I hustled to the park to start my shift.
My manager informed me I was closing in on overtime. Two new college interns had joined our ranks, so I went home from my shift early.
When I got to my place, I changed into some workout clothes and hit the L.A. Fitness around the corner.
After a warm-up on the elliptical, I saw that a Zumba class was in progress, but I wasn’t up for shaking my moneymaker. Meandering through the free-weight section, it stunned me to see Gabe bench-pressing, with Clint spotting him.
“Yo! You’re Brock’s woman, right?” Clint asked.
I nodded, but looked to Gabe, who put the barbell on the weight stand and sat up.
“I thought you were at your Pop’s place?”
He grinned. “Hello to you, too, Cecilia. I was at Dad’s, but needed to come back a little early.”
“That’s your name,” Clint muttered under his breath. Then he asked, “How’d your audition go? Did that happen yet?”
I nodded again. “Yeah, this morning. Now, I’m waiting to hear back.”
Gabe smiled at me, and it was nearly as good as Brock’s. “Well, I hope it goes your way.”
I smiled. “Thanks. I’ll let you two get back to lifting.”
Moving past them, I grabbed an eighteen pound kettlebell and found an open space to do my workout, with my phone strapped to my arm. I used it to listen to music, since the gym music could be hit-or-miss in terms of keeping me motivated. Mid-way through my workout, a phone call interrupted my music. I did two more reps thinking I had time to get the call, but it rolled over to my voicemail. Since I had finally hit my ‘zone’ I decided to keep at it and listen to the message when I was done.
A stair-stepper machine opened up, so I hopped on it to start my cool-down, and I watched Gabe and Clint go to the men’s locker room. Soon my legs were killing me, so I decided to cut my time short and went to my car.
When I opened my trunk to get my purse out, Brock’s rich voice filled my ear and I jumped a foot in the air.
“Holy crap, you scared me to death!”
He gently turned me to face him. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt with the University Police Department badge stitched over his left pectoral and the word ‘INTERN’ over the badge. It might have just been a polo shirt, but I found it supremely hot.
His eyes danced over my face and he smiled. “Sorry about that, Sunflower. Did you have a decent workout?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I guess. How did you know I was here?”
“Clint texted me.”
I moved to the driver’s door. “Clint did? Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, and his tone told me he didn’t like it.
“Why do you say it like that?”
Brock’s face set for a moment. “Let’s just say, you caught his eye during your warm up on the elliptical machine, and he kept that eye on you until Gabe mentioned your name. He let me know if things don’t work out–”
I shoved Brock’s shoulder. “Nuh-unh!”
His brows shot up and he gave a short nod.
Shaking my head, I opened my door and threw my purse to the passenger seat. Then Brock leaned in to give me a swift kiss that included a touch of our tongues.
“We headed to my place or yours?”
I shrugged. “I don’t care. What would you prefer?”
“Prefer it if we had our own place, but I guess my place. Then we only have one roommate to deal with.”
“Okay.”
I stood inside my open door, watching Brock saunter past my car to his Civic, parked a couple rows over. He’d just stepped past the car parked in front of mine when a burly man rushed him and grabbed him from the side.
My mouth opened to yell when a huge hand covered my mouth from behind. I struggled to break out of the hold. Whoever grabbed me yanked me away from the car, and kicked the door closed. Then we rushed across the lot toward the tussle between Brock and the other man.
“Marco’s got a score to settle with you, bitch,” a gravelly male voice said in my ear.
I struggled to break free of his hold or bang my head against his. The hand around my mouth tightened and I felt something cold against my temple.
Brock had broken free of the man who had grabbed him. He held that man against a car, punching him in the face. Before I could get my hopes up, the gravelly voice spoke loudly at Brock.
“Stop, or I’ll blow her brains out right here.”
Brock turned and his head froze. His face filled with unrestrained fury. I tried to catch his eyes, but they weren’t holding mine. They were blazing into those of the man behind me.
“Let him go,” gravelly voice demanded.
Brock’s grip tightened for a moment. “Let her go,” he said.
“You’re not in a position to make demands, pretty boy.”
“Neither are you, asshole. Drop the weapon,” Clint called from behind gravelly-voice man.
Brock’s eyes flew behind us, and in a warning tone he said, “Clint.”
The man Brock had been holding took advantage of Brock being distracted, but before the man could break free, Gabe hustled up beside them and punched the man in the jaw.
Brock
Feeling the asshole who’d tackled me squirm beneath my hold, I was surprised as hell when I heard flesh hitting flesh and saw my brother there, his fist in the man’s face. I heard Clint struggling with the man holding Cecilia. The clatter of a gun hitting the ground behind us distracted me, but I had to be certain Gabe would be able to handle this asshole before I could help Clint. My attention was wrenched back to Cecilia and her attacker when I heard a gunshot.
“No!” I shouted.
When I focused, Cecilia couldn’t be seen, and a bloom of blood filled the left front of the man’s shirt.
Everything after that was a blur. I rushed to the man with the gunshot wound because my gut screamed that he had shot Cecilia. When I saw Cecilia’s long legs on the ground, I fell to my knees. There was no blood on the pavement, but she wasn’t moving and my breath froze in my lungs.
“Cecilia,” I croaked.
Clint jerked the man from behind. The asshole spat at me. When he whirled I saw he had broken loose and had a fist cocked for Clint. I jumped up to intercept the fist, but had the wind knocked out of me again by the first bastard.
“Fuck,” I heard my brother growl.
Gabe yanked the burly man away from me just as sirens rent the air. Like Pavlov’s dogs, the moment the men heard the wails they sprinted away from us, and Clint went after them.
“Check on your girl,” Gabe said before he took off after them.
I scrambled over to Cecilia’s still body, my fingers drifting along her neck in search of her pulse. It was gentle when I found it. Thank God.
An Orange County Sheriff’s cruiser pulled up even with us. The officer angled out of the vehicle with a hand on the butt of his weapon, so I stood up slowly.
“My girlfriend was assaulted by a man, and his friend waylaid me before I could help her. They took off when they heard your siren, but my brother and Clint Ramsey, a local PI, took off after them. Is there an ambulance en route?” I asked.
The officer gave me a hard look for a moment before he said, “Yes, sir. Stay with her. Which direction did they go?”
I pointed him after Gabe and Clint, then I knelt next to Cecilia again. Gently, I cradled her head against my knee and called her name. She wasn’t responding, which concerned me.
My head turned when I heard the growl of a diesel engine. I saw a Fire-Rescue vehicle stop four feet away.
I moved out of the way and told the paramedics what happened as they crowded around Cecilia. It felt like twenty minutes, but I knew it was probably only five before they had her on a stretcher, loading her into the back of the ambulance.
I longed to ride with her, but that wasn’t happening. With my keys in hand, I broke into a jog so I could follow the ambulance.
Since I didn’t have flashing lights or anything, I had to stop at a fucking red light. While I was there, I made the most of it and called Vamp. He picked up after one ring, but I spoke before he could.
“Vamp, Cecilia’s being taken to a hospital; I’m trying to follow the ambulance. Two thugs came after her. One with a gun to her head and one who tried to hold me back. Clint shot one of them in the shoulder, but Cecilia’s out cold. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on with her.”
Vamp cut into my rambling. “All right, bro. Take a breath. Do you know what hospital you’re headed to?”
I blew out a ragged sigh. “They said Orlando Health.”
“She been shot?” he asked, far calmer than I liked.
The light changed and I drove like crazy. “Not that I could see. Shit went down too fuckin’ fast, man.”
“Normally does,” he deadpanned. Then he added, “I assume you’re callin’ me so I’ll let Razor know, who can then tell her family, right?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, though that wasn’t entirely true. I called my older brother because I always fuckin’ went to him when I had problems. “Or at the least, give him my number or text me his, so I can keep them aware of what’s going on when I find out.”
“Definitely gonna text you his number, and if Rainey’s got Neil’s number, you’ll have that, too.”
“Thanks, bro. I’m in the hospital parking garage, so I’ll call you later.”
BY THE TIME I WAS ALLOWED to go back to see Cecilia, she was just coming around. I pulled a chair from the corner so I could sit close to her. Gently, I sandwiched her hand between mine while I leaned my forehead on the edge of her exam table.
“Brock,” she croaked.
My head jerked up. “Yeah, Sunflower. You’re safe.”
Her eyes came to mine, but I could tell her focus wasn’t right. She squinted for a moment, and then asked, “Where are we?”
Leaning forward, I gently kissed her forehead. “Honey, we’re in the Emergency Room, and you’re all right. Pretty sure you have a concussion.”
She tipped her head back and caught my eyes to ask, “Concussion?”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
The door opened and a doctor walked in, with a nurse right behind him pushing a wheelie stand housing a computer keyboard and tablet-sized screen.
“Are you next-of-kin for Ms. Lyons?” he demanded.
“Yes,” I replied before Cecilia could even inhale, let alone refute my answer.
With a curt nod at me, the doctor propped an ass-cheek on the table near Cecilia’s shins. He smiled at her, but then focused on me.
“The preliminary exam by Fire-Rescue indicates she has a mild concussion, but I want to do a full work-up. So, within the hour she’s going for a CT scan. Unless I see something a
bnormal, I’m willing to release her to you under concussive-care. That means you have to wake her every two hours to be sure she is not running a fever, and knows where she is and who you are.”
I nodded my head and squeezed her hand. The doctor moved from the table, and forced me to drop Cecilia’s hand as he examined her eyes and other coordination activities.
When the door closed behind the doctor and his assistant, Cecilia turned her head abruptly to give me a look. My breath caught in my lungs as I saw this for the warning it was, but before I could say anything, she did.
“You need to go, Brock,” she whispered. Then in a slightly louder voice, “I seriously appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I love you. Hell, I’ll always love you, but because of that, I have to let you go, so you can have someone better than me.”
When she finished, she jerked her head away from me and toward the wall.
Oh, hell no!
Gripping her hand, I stood up. As I looked down on her reclining form, I could see how stiffly she held herself. The vision of her stiff as a board tripped something inside me, and I knew she was going to pull some bullshit in order to push me away.
Slowly, she turned to me. “Brock, I wasn’t kidding. I know we love each other, but seriously... You deserve better. Hell, you need someone who won’t prevent you from getting your dream.”
I let her hand go, and boxed her in with a hand on either side of her body on the bed. “Excuse me? How in the fuck are you keeping me from my dream? And for that fuckin’ matter, how do you know what my dream is?”
She pulled in an audible breath, and quickly said, “Well, you want to be a cop. You’ve spent years in college for that. No way being with a former whore will help you with that. I mean c’mon. Let’s get real. I’m nothing but a dead weight on the goodness you’ll create. Hell, this is nothing, compared to what might come up later on. You need to move on from me. So no matter how much we love each other, I’m done, Brock. You need to move on.”
I took in a deep breath to keep my shit together, but by the time she was done, I didn’t know where to start. Making matters worse, the door opened as a nurse and an orderly came in to take Cecilia for a CT scan.