by Sybil Bartel
Luna glanced at Shade. “Is this your story too?”
Shade casually shrugged. “No story, just the chain of events.”
His eyes on me, Luna pushed his chair back and stood. “Shade knows me, and he’s worked for me for a long time, so I’m gonna say this once for your benefit. You work for me.”
“Yes, sir.” I needed to fucking go.
“I’m not finished,” Luna snapped before reining it in. “Look. You work for me, but that’s a two-way street, Knight. I work for you as well. You encounter shit in the field, I help. You get in a jam, I fix it. You work for me, you’re part of mi familia. I do not, and will not ever ask you to do something I wouldn’t do myself. And I’m sure as hell not asking you to hide the fucking bodies, no matter how justified you think it is. I’m asking what happened tonight so I can protect you, should that need arise. Understand?”
I nodded.
“Good, then you understand that from here on out, I’m informed of any and all activity that happens on my watch so I can be prepared for any kind of fallout.”
“There won’t be any fallout.” I knew what I was doing.
“Maybe not today, and maybe not on this, but there’s always fallout. The only question is how prepared I am for it. That’s what makes me good at my job. Comprende?”
“Yes, sir.” I should’ve asked him what the hell he was going to do about Summer, if anything, but I just wanted to get the hell out there and see Fallon.
“Jesucristo,” Luna muttered. “Quit fucking calling me sir and get out of here. I told Fallon she’d get her ride back tonight.”
I nodded. “I’ll return it.”
Luna’s hand settled on the gun in his belt holster as his cell phone rang. “Take Shade with you.” He glanced at his phone, then looked pointedly at me. “And for fuck’s sake, don’t give the woman any more grief tonight.” He answered his phone. “Luna. Hold.” Putting his hand over the phone, he looked between us. “I’ve got a new assignment for both of you tomorrow. Briefing at seven a.m.” He put his cell back to his ear. “I’m here.”
I walked out.
Shade followed me to the elevator. “You got the keys to her Mercedes?”
I hit the call button. “Yeah.” I’d already dug them out of the purse Fallon had left behind in her rush to get the fuck away from me.
We stepped on the elevator, and Shade glanced at me as the doors slid shut. “What’s the deal with the train wreck?”
My ears still fucking ringing, I shook my head. “What?”
He crossed his arms. “The daughter.”
Summer was a fucking junkie. “Drugs.”
Shade tipped his chin in acknowledgment. With the exception of a few words exchanged while we cleaned shit up at my place, he didn’t talk. I appreciated him more by the minute. “Thanks for backing me up at my place, and just now with Luna.”
“No problem.” He glanced at me. “You’ve done that shit before.”
The elevator doors opened, and I didn’t say shit one way or another. “You can follow me to Fallon’s. Give me a few minutes after I drop the car off.”
Shade stopped at his Escalade and grabbed something from the front. “Hey.”
I opened the driver door to Fallon’s Mercedes, and her scent hit me square in the chest. “What?” Fuck.
He handed me her purse. “You know the fastest way to get your dick kicked to the curb?”
I didn’t say shit. I took her purse and glared at him. I’d already been kicked to the fucking curb.
“Begging for it,” he answered without me asking.
“I didn’t ask for your advice.”
Shade stared at me like I was dumb as shit. “Yeah, well, you need advice, kid.” He turned and went back to his company Escalade.
Stewing, I tossed her purse on the passenger seat and got in her Mercedes. The entire drive to her place, I was drowning in her perfume and doubting what the fuck I should say to her. By the time I pulled into her driveway and parked next to Summer’s Maserati, my head was pounding, my ears were ringing, and my vision was starting to blur.
Ignoring all of it, I knocked on the front door.
No answer after fifteen seconds, I knocked again, and the door jerked open.
Standing with a blanket around her shoulders, her face still a mess, Summer looked at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Get Fallon,” I demanded.
Her slumped posture changed in a nanosecond. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Get. Fallon,” I bit out.
For a single heartbeat she stared at me, then her eyes widened. “Oh. My fucking God. Fallon? Seriously?” Her face contorted to a sneer as she raised her voice. “I knew it. You fucked her.”
If she were a man, I would’ve laid her out. “Step aside,” I warned.
“You gold-digging piece of shit, you hit on me! Then you go for her? How the fuck old are you?” Incredulous, her face twisted with disgust.
My jaw clenched, and my hands fisted. I leaned toward her and lied. “Keep it up and I’ll make sure you go to jail for shooting her. Get Fallon. NOW.”
“Fuck off.” She made to slam the door.
I pushed forward and walked the fuck inside at the same time Fallon appeared behind her.
In a different dress, her hair damp, Fallon crossed her arms around herself. “Summer,” she quietly reprimanded. “Go lie down.”
Summer spun on her. “Lie down? That’s what you have to say? Boy toy here comes calling and you’re gonna tell me to go lie down? What? So you can go fuck him? How long have you been screwing the help, Fallon, huh? Dear old Dad will have plenty to say about this shit.”
“Speak to her one more time like that,” I warned. “See what happens.”
Summer spun back to face me. “You think she’s going to be your sugar mama? You’re disgusting. You couldn’t get with me, so you picked the first easy target with a bank account you could stick your dick in?”
“Enough!” Fallon snapped.
“Whatever,” Summer snapped right back. “You’re both fucking pathetic.” She shoved past Fallon and went back to wherever the hell she came from.
“She’s lying. I never hit on her.” I looked at Fallon, but for the first time, I noticed the total fucking mess her house was in behind her, like the place had been tossed. “What happened to your house?”
“Summer happened.” Her eyes focused over my shoulder, she didn’t look at me. “What do you want?”
She looked so fucking defeated, I wanted to punch something or pull her into my arms. Or both. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
She barely nodded.
Fuck. “I brought your Mercedes and your purse.” I set her keys and purse on the hall table. It looked like it was the only piece of furniture still standing upright in the place. “You want help cleaning up?”
“No, thank you.” Her voice dead, her expression vacant, her posture off, she still didn’t look at me.
Out of time, out of options, I fucking went for it. Stepping forward, I bent my knees slightly to be at her eye level, but I didn’t touch her. “Fallon, look at me.”
She didn’t.
Goddamn it. “I’m not leaving until you do.”
Her green eyes, now more gray, shifted and met mine, but there was nothing there. No passion, no trust, no desire, not even fear, just emptiness.
I wanted to rage at her stepdaughter, at her ex-husband, at every damn person who’d ever done her harm, but none of that would change a single thing about the here and now.
So I grasped her chin and said what the fuck I’d come here to say. “What we shared in that hotel room was special. Once-in-a-lifetime special. I don’t give a damn what anyone says or thinks about us. I don’t care about our age difference, and I sure as hell am not after you for the money. I know what I feel, and I know what I saw in your eyes.”
She tried to pull out of my grasp.
Holding her firm, I gave her everything
I had. “I love you, Fallon. I always have.”
Her body stiffened, and she jerked her head away. “That’s not love. That’s obsession.”
My nostrils flared, but I kept my voice in check. “I know obsession. I’ve spent my whole life obsessing over my health, and you don’t feel that shit in your heart.” I took her hand and placed it on my chest. “I feel you here. I’ve always felt you here.”
“You don’t know what love is,” she accused, jerking her hand away as her voice dropped. “You’re too young to know.”
Anger flared and mixed with dangerous desperation as bullshit doubt reared up and hit me. I was losing her. Maybe I never had her. Maybe I was lying to myself. Maybe I never had a chance with this woman. But goddamn it, there was one thing I fucking knew for sure. “You trusted me in that hotel room.” She’d let me come inside her.
She didn’t say a word.
Head pounding, ears ringing, I kept going. “You let me in, just like I let you in. You can’t deny that.” I didn’t know shit about her except what I’d read online over the years, but I knew the woman who’d laid under me and given me her body wasn’t someone who trusted easily.
Silent, gaze averted, she didn’t even blink.
I started to lose it. “I’m not some fucking obsessed kid. I know the difference between love and lust and a damn crush. And I sure as hell know what I’m feeling.”
“Oh my God, leave her alone, Cowboy! You’re pathetic,” Summer hollered from somewhere inside the house.
“Back the fuck off, Summer,” I yelled over Fallon’s shoulder before lowering my voice and grasping Fallon’s arm. “I know what I feel, Fallon. Come on,” I pleaded urgently. “I know I’m not alone in this.”
Turning her head away, Fallon pulled back and crossed her arms tight around herself. “Liking the way someone looks isn’t love.”
“What the fuck?” Summer yelled. “Are you even listening to your stupid self, Cowboy?”
My jaw clenched, and shit emotion choked up my throat. I ignored the bitch in the background and focused on the woman right in front of me. “You’re gonna hold it against me that I think you’re beautiful?” Jesus Christ. “I fucking love you.” I thumped my fist against my chest. “Right here. Where it counts. I love you. Not Fallon Amherst the supermodel—you, goddamn it. But you can’t see that. You’re so fucked-up over what people think, and so hung up on what your piece-of-shit ex or manipulative stepdaughter are doing that you’re gonna walk away from me? What the fuck is that, Fallon?” My eyes welled. My fucking eyes welled, and I broke. “I didn’t leave you hanging at Luna and Associates. I didn’t fucking shoot you. I didn’t toss your place or bring a murdering cartel sex trafficker into your life—I protected you.” My chest constricted and air fought to get in my lungs. “I love you.” My voice cracked. “I fucking love you.” Shit fell down my face like a goddamn pussy. “But I’m not fighting for a woman who doesn’t think I’m worth it.”
I’d lived that shit for eighteen years.
No more.
I was fucking done.
No dignity left, I threw gasoline on the flames of what was left of my shit life. “One day, one day, woman,” I threatened like she gave a good goddamn about me. “You’re gonna regret throwing away the man who gave more fucks about you than every single piece of shit in your life combined.” I pointed a finger at her. “Don’t you dare come looking for me.”
Turning, I punched the fucking wall. Sheetrock caved, and she jumped.
I didn’t fucking care.
I walked out and slammed the door behind me.
I BROKE.
From the inside out.
The glue that had been holding me together was him.
Which was why I’d told myself I had to give him up. He couldn’t see that, and I wouldn’t admit it.
I was so weak.
I couldn’t lose myself one more time to a man.
There’d be nothing left.
I’d had to let him go.
I’d needed to push him away.
But now there was nothing holding me together. No glue, no Thomas, no strong arms, no easy smile, no sexy laugh, no tender kisses.
Nothing.
Oh God.
This was what I’d told myself I’d wanted. This was what I’d needed. This was what I was supposed to do, the right thing to do, but the more I tried to breathe, I couldn’t.
I couldn’t take air into my lungs.
I couldn’t see.
I couldn’t feel a single thing except panic. Gripping my heart, stealing my breath, it consumed me with fear.
What if I never felt his arms around me again? What if I never got to hear his voice in my ear, whispering good morning? What if I never got to see his smile again? What if another woman got that?
Oh God, what had I done?
With shaking hands, I reached for the door and pulled it open.
His wide back and strong shoulders flexed and bunched with muscle as he got into the passenger seat of a waiting Escalade.
“Thomas!”
No pause, no hesitation, as if he didn’t hear me, he slammed the door shut.
“Wait,” I yelled.
He didn’t even look in my direction as the driver threw the SUV into gear and stepped on the gas. The Escalade’s taillights lit the night as the vehicle drove down the driveway.
“Thomas.” My voice hitched. “Thomas.”
The SUV disappeared into the darkness.
My knees hit the ground, and I lost it.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU do to her?” a female voice shrieked.
The pain behind my eyes throbbed, and I held the phone away from my ear to look at the screen again, but I couldn’t fucking focus. After a sleepless night, my symptoms were worse.
“What do you want, Summer?” No fight left in me, my voice monotone, I asked the question with no intention of following through.
Raising an eyebrow, Shade glanced at me from the driver seat of the Escalade.
“You fucking dick,” Summer yelled. “Get the fuck over here and fix this. I’m not her goddamn babysitter. You did this. You fucking handle it.”
I held the phone away from my ear.
Shade shook his head. “Hang the fuck up on that bitch.”
I hung up.
Shade smirked. “So you do have balls. Because after last night, I wasn’t fucking sure.”
“Fuck off. And I’ve been at L&A a month, how come I never saw you before?” Or even heard of him?
“I was on a long-term assignment.” He scanned our surroundings. “I didn’t come into the office.”
My cell rang again.
I ignored it and followed his gaze across the parking lot of the court building halfheartedly. Security for some popstar outside the damn courthouse while she was inside with Luna, Ronan, and Tyler and her legal team was overkill. “This is a bullshit assignment.”
Shade shifted in the driver seat. “You’re a bullshit bodyguard.”
“I didn’t use to be.” I used to be a bullshit cleaner. I was in such a piss-poor mood, I didn’t know which was worse.
My cell rang again, and I stupidly glanced at the display again, but I couldn’t make my eyes focus on the small screen to see who it was.
I sent it to voice mail.
“What’d you use to be, tough guy? The prom king quarterback?” Shade hazed.
“Yeah.” For a hot minute. “Until they kicked me off the team.”
Shade looked at me as my cell rang again. “What the fuck did you do to get kicked off the team?”
I stared at my phone, trying to make any damn thing come into focus. “None of your damn business.” Did I care that Fallon was hurting?
The ringing stopped.
Shade almost chuckled. Or made a sound close to it. Either way, it was fucking disturbing. “Let me guess, Golden Boy got caught with his pants down with the prom queen under the bleachers.”
The ringing started again. “I lost my hearing during a game,
didn’t hear the linebacker behind me and got sacked before I could throw the pass. Knocked me out.”
“How the fuck did you lose your hearing?”
Why the hell was Summer calling? She didn’t fucking care about a damn person except herself. And she sure as hell didn’t want me around Fallon. “I have Cogan’s syndrome.” The ringing stopped.
“What’s that?” Shade asked, looking at me like I was a fucking science experiment.
I rattled off the explanation. “A rare rheumatic disease that causes inflammation of the eyes and ears.”
“Your eyes swell up?”
I fucking hated talking about this shit. “Something like that.” My cell rang again.
Shade grabbed it out of my hand and answered. “What?… Who the fuck do you think it is, blondie?” He listened a moment, then he hung up. “Goddamn, that bitch is crazy.” He tossed my cell in the center console. “So what the fuck happens if your eyes or ears swell up?”
“Google it.”
“I’m sitting right here, motherfucker, just tell me.”
The ringing in my ears I’d been trying unsuccessfully to ignore intensified as a wave of nausea hit me. I rubbed a hand over my face. “Vision loss, hearing difficulty, ringing in the ears and dizziness are the main symptoms.” Then there was a whole host of other shit that came along with that. Fun shit like losing my balance, nausea, vomiting, fever, and being too fucking tired to even stand up were all a bonus.
“How often does that happen?”
Too fucking often, like right fucking now. “Comes and goes.”
“What the fuck are you supposed to do about it?”
“Meds. Anti-inflammatories, steroids, sometimes antibiotics.” Wait it out. Hope for the best. Pray I don’t go blind. Call the fucking doctor, again.
Shade turned in his seat to look at me. “What the fuck happens if you lose your sight or hearing on a job?”
“Hopefully I don’t.” Today was going to be close. I could feel it coming like a tidal wave. My cell rang again.
“Hopefully?” Shade looked incredulous. “Does Luna know about this?”
Not giving a fuck if Shade noticed, I closed one eye and squinted. This time it wasn’t Summer. It was Fallon’s number.