Relentless

by Sybil Bartel

Shade’s cell rang through the Escalade’s speakers, and he answered. “What?”

  I sent the call to voice mail.

  “Where the fuck is Knight?” Luna barked.

  Shit. “Right here,” I answered, tossing my cell back on the center console.

  “Why the hell is Summer Amherst blowing up my phone telling me Fallon Amherst needs medical attention and it’s your fault?” Luna growled. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

  “Tell her to call 911 if it’s an emergency.” Despite my best damn efforts, my chest constricted at the thought of Fallon hurting. “But it’s not an emergency, and nothing to do with Fallon Amherst is my fault.”

  “Explain,” Luna demanded.

  “Wish I could.” Fallon wasn’t my concern. She’d made her choice.

  Luna let loose with a string of cuss words in Spanish. “New company policy. The next time an Amherst woman calls my cell, for any reason, I’m firing someone. Unfuck this mess, Knight. Get Fallon medical attention if she needs it.”

  “I’m not a doctor.” But I’d need one sooner rather than later if my symptoms kept getting worse.

  “Then fucking send Talerco over there.” Luna hung up.

  “Damn.” Shade cocked an eyebrow at me. “Your dick really that big?”

  “Fuck you.” Picking up my cell, I struggled through a text to Talon.

  Me: Medical emergency at Fallon Amherst’s. How soon can you get there?

  The three dots appeared.

  Talon: Define “emergency.” Sucking chest wound? GSW? Limb hangin’ off? Somebody bleedin’ out? Because I’m not leavin’ my women just to put a fuckin’ Band-Aid on one of y’all’s current pussies because you ladies don’t know how to staple a fuckin’ cut shut.

  Squinting my ass off to read all that, I took a guess.

  Me: She has chest pain.

  Talon replied immediately.

  Talon: Fuck. On my way. Address?

  I texted her address to him, then I tossed my cell down and scanned the parking lot for paparazzi again.

  Staring me down, Shade crossed his arms. “And?”

  “And nothing.” Fucking prick. “Talerco’s going over there.”

  “You gonna warn blondie?”

  “Which one?”

  Shade’s eyes narrowed. “Either.”

  “Nope.”

  Sinister and a little fucking psychotic, for the first time in my presence, Shade outright laughed. “I might actually like you, kid.”

  “I’m not a fucking kid.”

  “Right. Tripod.”

  Goddamn it.

  THE TEARS STARTED LAST NIGHT and I couldn’t stop them.

  Silent and crippling, they slid down my cheeks.

  Summer came down off whatever she’d been on and was fucking manic. Yelling at me one moment, crying the next, she paced, she threw stuff, she blamed me for everything.

  The bloody gray dress in my hands, I sat on my bedroom floor.

  Not saying a word.

  I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t even cry properly.

  Shut down, I silently sat there and let it all happen.

  I knew what I needed to do. I knew I needed to get up, call Leo, get Summer in a facility, pick up my place, pack a bag and buy a plane ticket to Marstrand. But I couldn’t do it.

  I didn’t want to leave Miami.

  I didn’t want Thomas’s words playing on repeat in my head. I love you. I fucking love you.

  I didn’t want to believe them.

  But I did.

  I believed them the second they’d passed his full lips. Lips that’d worshiped my body and made me feel like a real woman for the first time in my life.

  I no longer knew why I’d pushed him away. He was right. I spent too much of my time worrying about Summer and Leo. He’d been right about all of it.

  I never should’ve let him slip away, but I did, and now I had to live with that. Except I didn’t know how to. My chest hurt, everything felt wrong, and I was paralyzed with regret.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Fallon.” Summer stood over me. “Get the fuck up and do something. You don’t act like this. Even I know that.” She threw her thin arms up. “It’s one damn guy.”

  It wasn’t one damn guy.

  It was the guy.

  But this once she was right, and I was wrong. I needed to get up.

  The doorbell rang.

  “About fucking time.” Summer walked out of my bedroom.

  My heart rate kicked up, wondering if it was him, but a moment later, Talon Talerco walked into my bedroom with his black bag.

  His smile not touching his eyes, he aimed it at me. “We makin’ these little visits a habit, darlin’?” Setting his bag down on my unslept-in bed, his hands went to his hips. “Cuz I gotta say, I’m not really cut out for the whole house call thing.”

  My voice hoarse, I used it for the first time since Thomas had walked away. “I didn’t call you.”

  “I know.” Squatting next to me, his intense gaze took me in. “Your stepdaughter raised holy hell, and a certain blond boy wonder texted me, askin’ for a favor.”

  Even the mention of him made my hands clutch at my chest tighter. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to come. I’m fine.”

  “She’s not fine.” Summer fidgeted in the doorway.

  Without taking his eyes off me, Talon spoke to Summer. “How long since you took somethin’, darlin’?”

  Summer turned to face the wall, and her voice went quiet. “Last night,” she admitted.

  “That’s a start.” Talon rose to his feet and glanced at her. “Go make some coffee for everyone. I’ll be out in a minute to talk to you.”

  Shockingly, Summer obliged. “Okay.” She walked away.

  Talon held a hand out to me. “Come on, up and at ’em.”

  I took Talon’s hand, and he easily pulled me to my feet. My whole body sore, I faltered when I stood upright.

  “Easy, darlin’, easy.” His arm went around my waist, and the scent of coconuts and ocean breezes surrounded me. “You hurtin’ bad from the fall or your leg?”

  “I’m fine. You smell like the beach.”

  He chuckled quietly. “Surf wax, darlin’. Can’t take the credit.”

  I looked up at him. “You surf?” Sun-bleached hair, tan, muscled—it fit.

  He nodded, and his smile was genuine. “Like an addict. We all got our vices. But word of advice?” He didn’t wait for me to respond. “You gotta let yours go. It’s not doin’ you any good.”

  Taken off guard, I stepped out of his reach. “I don’t have a vice.”

  His arms at his sides, his head cocked, and he frowned. “Don’t you?”

  “No.”

  Inhaling, his hands went to his hips. “Darlin’, I’m gonna say this in the nicest way possible.” He looked me dead in the eyes. “This burden of guilt and the anxiety surroundin’ it that you’re carryin’, it ain’t helpin’ you or the eighteen-year-old out there right now. She’s headin’ for an early grave if she keeps this shit up. She needs help. Immediately. We need to make that happen.”

  Ashamed, angered, I looked away, but I nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Good.” Talon reached for his bag. “Then I’ll take care of you, and we’ll call it even. Deal?”

  “I’m fine. I don’t need taking care of.”

  “Sit.” Talon reached in his bag anyway. Coming away with a tube of something, a package of something else and some gauze, he nodded at my leg. “Your wound’s infected. See the red around the edges?”

  I looked down. The graze wound had gotten hot to the touch overnight.

  “Nothin’ we can’t take care of, though.” Talon set his supplies on the bed. “Come on, take a seat.”

  I sat.

  Grabbing a towel out of the bathroom, he put it under my leg and set to work first cleaning the wound, then putting antibiotic ointment on it. He was wrapping it when he finally spoke.

  “Change the dressin’ once a day,
use the antibiotic cream, and I’m gonna give you a round of oral antibiotics. You got any allergies?”

  Shaking my head, I bit my tongue at the stinging sensation on my leg. “No.”

  “Good.” He handed me a folded blister pack of antibiotics. “Two the first day, one a day the next four days. If the wound gets worse, you go straight to the ER, understand?”

  I took the antibiotics. “I understand. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He packed his bag back up, but then he looked at me. Hands on his hips, his gaze studied my face a moment. “I’m debatin’ whether or not to open my mouth, and trust me, darlin’, that’s sayin’ somethin’.”

  There wasn’t much else he could say that would make me feel any worse. “Go ahead.”

  He nodded once. “Both of us have been around the block. We each got a marriage under our belts that didn’t work how it should’ve. Neither of us are young enough to see the world through rose-colored glasses. That said, I know what I saw last night, darlin’, and the kind of emotions Knight’s holdin’ for you, that kinda real doesn’t come round too often.”

  Tears welled. “I know.”

  “So what’s the problem?” he asked pointedly.

  “I…” I glanced toward the kitchen. “I wasn’t expecting him… I thought I wasn’t ready.”

  Talon exhaled audibly. “Yeah, darlin’, I can relate.” He glanced over his shoulder before looking back at me. “There’s an outpatient treatment facility in Jacksonville. Might do her some good to try that route and get outta town awhile. I’m gonna tell her about it, but I’ll leave the information with you.” He pulled his phone out. “What’s your number?”

  I told him.

  “Textin’ you the information now. Look into it. You want to get her in ASAP, call me or Luna, and we’ll make the arrangements.”

  The tears threatened to fall. “Thank you.”

  “Nothin’ doin’, darlin’. Nothin’ doin’.” He picked his bag up.

  Summer came to the bedroom door carrying two coffee mugs in shaking hands. “I made the coffee.”

  Talon pasted on the smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Come on, darlin’, we’ll drink it in the kitchen. Your mama’s gonna take a load off. Doctor’s orders.” Ushering Summer back toward the kitchen with a hand at her back, he looked over his shoulder at me and winked. “Remember what I said.”

  Nodding, I reached for my cell phone on the nightstand and saw Talon’s text. I waited until he was back in the kitchen with Summer and I heard them quietly conversing, then I called the number.

  HEAD POUNDING, VISION FUCKED, EARS ringing like a motherfucker, I held the ice pack over my face as I leaned back on the couch.

  For the second day in a row, I’d called in sick.

  Fighting a wave of nausea, I was thinking about getting back in bed when a knock sounded on the door. The heavy pounding echoed in my head like a fucking jackhammer.

  I stupidly yelled at the damn door. “Go away!” Fuck, fuck. The sound of my own voice sending me over the edge, I made a dash for the bathroom and fucking upchucked for the third time that morning.

  I was brushing my teeth when Talon appeared in the doorway. “Goddamn, Tripod, you look like hell.”

  I glanced up, but I couldn’t even fucking focus on him. “Fuck off.”

  “Well, shit.” Talon grasped my chin and turned my face first right, then left as he looked at my swollen eyes. “Now that’s somethin’ you don’t see every day.”

  I shoved his hand away and reached for my ice pack. “Go away.” I stumbled past him and aimed for the couch. Two feet away, I misjudged and almost fell on my ass.

  “Easy, killer.” Talon grabbed my arm and hefted me onto my intended target. “How long you been havin’ symptoms?”

  “What the fuck do you know about it?” Having someone see me like this made my piss-poor mood quadruple.

  “Plenty, since Patrol clued me in and told me to come see what the fuck was goin’ on with you. Can’t say I’ve ever met someone with Cogan’s syndrome before.” He took the ice pack from me and flipped it before setting it back on my eyes. “Gotta admit, I had to study up on it.”

  “Good for you.” Cold and nauseous, I reached for the blanket.

  “How often do you have a flare like this?”

  “Once a year, once a month, who the hell knows? Whenever my immune system decides to fuck with me.”

  Talon frowned. “No rhyme or reason to the flares?”

  “No.” Not unless you counted stress or catching a fucking cold, or eating wrong, or any other damn thing that my body decided was out of the ordinary.

  Talon held his hand to my forehead. “Fever, nausea, eyes swollen. What else you got goin’ on? Your hearin’ givin’ you hell?”

  “Ringing like a motherfucker,” I admitted. “Makes me want to fucking punch something.”

  “Goddamn, Tripod, why didn’t you call me?”

  “Can’t see the phone for shit.”

  “You managed to call Patrol and tell him you weren’t comin’ in.”

  “Muscle memory, last number I dialed. Done talking. Makes shit worse.” I was going to hurl again if I kept it up.

  “Understood. Just a few more questions and we’ll get you hooked up with some meds. Besides steroids and antibiotics, you ever take anti-nausea for this?” He pulled his phone out.

  “Sometimes.” Fuck, I was so damn dizzy.

  “All right,” he said absently, swiping away on his phone. “I’m sending some scripts in. Then I’ll go grab ’em for you. What’s your social?”

  I rattled it off.

  “What antibiotics you usually take?”

  I told him.

  Taking the ice pack off my face, he glanced at my eyes. “I think you’re past drops for your eyes. We’ll try ’em, but you need oral corticosteroids.” He glanced at the Advil on the coffee table. “You takin’ the ibuprofen?”

  “Tried. Threw it up.” All morning.

  Shoving his phone in his pocket, he squeezed my shoulder once and stood. “We’ll getcha fixed up. You good till I get back? About an hour?”

  “Fine,” I muttered. “Let yourself back in.”

  “Copy that. Hang tight, Tripod. I’ll be back.” Talon walked out the door.

  I pulled the blanket up and was almost asleep when another knock sounded on the door.

  Goddamn it. “It’s open!” Pressing the now barely cold ice pack to my face, I breathed through the wave of nausea as the door opened.

  Expecting Talon, I didn’t look up. “Forget something?”

  “Um…,” a sexy feminine voice stalled.

  A voice I knew well.

  Cursing my life, I forced myself to sit up, but I didn’t take the ice pack off my face. “What do you need, Fallon?”

  “I’m sorry,” she quietly rasped in her sexy voice. “I… I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  I hated the insecurity in her tone, but no way in hell did I want her to see me like this. “Not the best time. You should leave.”

  “I’m so sorry. Of course. I thought that… I mean… I made you pannkakor,” she finally blurted. “I thought maybe… I’m sorry. I’ll go. I didn’t mean to intrude.” Her voice went quiet as fuck. “I’ll just leave these here.” Her heels clicked across the hardwood floor, something was set on the kitchen table, and then she retreated toward the door.

  Goddamn it.

  I pushed myself up and stood. Swaying with a rush of vertigo and nausea, I grabbed the arm of the couch.

  “Thomas?” she asked worriedly.

  “I’m fine.” Keeping my head down, which only made shit worse, I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Thanks for the pancakes. Or crepes.” I couldn’t fucking remember what the hell they were.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Fuck me. I didn’t want to hear the concern in her voice, or worse, grab on to it, but goddamn, I was close to losing my shit and just pulling her into my arms. Pissed, at myself, at my body, my tone cam
e out sharper than I intended. “I’m fine. You should go.”

  For three seconds, she didn’t say a word, and she didn’t move.

  Then her heels sounded across the floor and her scent hit me in the chest.

  Caught off guard, and too damn late to step the hell away from her, her hand landed on my chest, and her lips brushed across my cheek. “I’m sorry I let you walk away,” she whispered.

  Before I could react, she was retreating.

  I heard the door open and I finally found my damn voice. “This isn’t a good time.”

  Her steps paused. “No, I don’t suppose it ever is with us. Goodbye, Thomas.”

  “Fallon.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Come here,” I clipped like I had a right to order her around.

  No response, no steps.

  “Please,” I added gruffly.

  Five motherfucking seconds passed, then her heels clicked, and she came back. Two feet from me, she stopped.

  My head down, I didn’t look at her. “Closer,” I commanded.

  She took one step.

  Good enough.

  I pulled her into my arms and buried my face in her hair.

  Her body hitched with a sharp breath, but then she melted into me like she belonged to me.

  “Fuck, Fallon.” My eyes welled, my head fucking spun, and I held her so damn tight, I feared I’d hurt her. “I never thought I’d get to hold you again.”

  A silent sob wracked her shoulders.

  “Don’t cry. Please don’t fucking cry.”

  Boots sounded on the steps a second before Talon walked into the apartment. “Well, ain’t that a sight.”

  STARTLED BY TALON’S PRESENCE, SHE swiped at her face and dropped her arms.

  Not letting let go of her, I brought my mouth to her ear, but I didn’t fucking kiss her. “Give me a few minutes alone with Talon.” Jesus, she smelled incredible.

  “Heard that.” Talon chuckled. “Come on, Tripod, your woman can stay. This’ll be fun. She can watch me play doctor.”

  “You’re sick?” Alarm hit her voice, and she looked up at me.

  “I’m fine.” Looking over Fallon’s head, I threw a warning glare in Talon’s direction.

  Talon smirked. “If you call hurlin’ and impaired vision and ringin’ in your ears fine, then yep, darlin’, he’s all good.”