Devious Wingman: A Cocky Hero Club Novel

by Hagen, Casey

How would I keep the poison simmering in my soul from spilling over and hurting her?

  These were the moments I battled the shit ingrained in me. Most of my life I’d been taught being a man meant being ruthless. Doing whatever it took, right or wrong, to get what I want.

  Those lessons never fit right. My father knew it and only became more calculated and cruel, more determined to drill them into my head.

  But her family saved me. They taught me to be better. To do better.

  I still battled. I still fought against bad decisions. I still had immense power to hurt people without a single thought.

  Good versus evil waged a lifelong battle in my soul. I’d sooner stop my own fucking heart than watch Emory’s spirit die piece by piece because she’d chosen me…and I selfishly let her.

  I swam back over to the hillside where I left my shorts. Climbing up out of the water, I glanced back at the cave.

  Emory hadn’t followed me.

  The part that fucked with my head the most was how here, in the land of happily ever after, surrounded by so many people who not only believed in love, but made it their life’s mission, I found myself wondering if I could really make this work.

  What purpose would it really serve to resurrect the past anyway? Looking the scathing truth in the eye could only do one thing…cause irreparable pain.

  And if I found a way to break it all to Hawk, maybe, just maybe there could be more between us.

  The long shot of fucking long shots.

  But everything had fallen into place. I’d escaped my shitty past; I had a successful partnership, and I had a solid set of friends that had my back, no matter what.

  At least I thought.

  Telling Hawk would be the ultimate test when it came to loyalty. Here I was hoping he’d show me more than I had shown him, when I kept this history from him.

  Yeah, I knew what that made me.

  The fact he’d turned his attention to Cory helped. All I’d have to do is confess and take my lumps for being a shitbag who wasn’t honest with him from the beginning.

  That was the hardest damn part. Forcing myself to be honest with him at the same time I cherry-picked which truths to tell, and buried other truths altogether.

  Hawk would ask and he deserved to know why I hadn't said anything from the beginning, and I had no logical explanation, other than what?

  Fear.

  Cold, hard dread.

  Because it wasn’t only about being scared. It was knowing what I chose to bury, and what I chose to admit had real-life consequences.

  Deadly permanent ones.

  Terror kept me constant company for ten years.

  Bone-deep panic I’d fuck up another friendship.

  Dread it would come to blows, leaving Penn in the middle and turning him into collateral damage.

  And as irrational as I knew it was, panic Hawk would react, do something impulsive, and suffer a permanent fate like Ethan had.

  We weren't twenty-one-year-olds. We were in our thirties, and he would handle it better than that.

  In my head I would almost guarantee it. Smooth and rational, Hawk didn’t go off half-cocked.

  But what if…

  The fucking “what-if” loomed there, mocking me for my past and holding me hostage from reaching for my future.

  And it kept me hurting the one fucking person on this planet I loved more than anyone.

  Like a dog chasing its tail with the same enthusiasm as an eight-year-old boy hopped up on pixie sticks, I cycled through the arguments, checking them off like a grocery list in my head only to doubt my initial decision yet again.

  But there was Emory. Being able to touch her, hold her, and love her in a way I’d never been allowed. If I did this right, we didn’t have to live in a few stolen moments tucked away in the shadows.

  Scraping the excess water off my legs the best I could, I slid the first leg of my boxer briefs over my ankle.

  Just as I dragged the second leg hole over my foot, I froze at the sound of a mix between a growl and a series of short snorts coming from a few feet away.

  A whisper of unease crept over my skin as I stayed as still as possible while looking for the source of the noise.

  A mix between a snort and a squeal filled the air next to me. Maybe five feet away at most and coming closer…I didn’t even know what the thing was.

  Not quite a pig or boar.

  It looked like an overgrown—way overgrown—gerbil with a snout and jutting bottom jaw.

  Coarse hair spiked from his skin as he came another step closer. His ears laid flat against his head.

  “Easy boy. Just give me a minute to cover my junk and get my girl and the area is all yours.”

  He stopped and opened his mouth wide. The rest of his teeth seemed pretty innocuous, but those fucking incisors, those looked ready to tear flesh.

  From the look in his beady little eyes—my flesh.

  He took two jerky steps in my direction and snorted again.

  Okay, fuck the shorts.

  “Oh, he’s cute,” Emory said quietly from behind me.

  “Stay back, Emory.”

  “He won’t hurt anyone, will you, boy?” she said, clicking her tongue at the fucker, the sound of her voice getting closer.

  Because she’d never listened to me before, why the fuck would she start now? I’d only all but told her we had a shot, and this was the thanks I got.

  Her defying me from the very first.

  Okay, I know how fucked up it sounded. It’s not that I thought I was the ruler of all—but safety?

  Jesus, this was a safety thing. Couldn’t she just respect it one time?

  “He’s not a fucking pet. Stop that,” I said slowly, straightening to my full height and reaching back for her, my fucking boxers still around my calves.

  Ass out. Junk out. In broad daylight with the dirt path just up what I’d normally consider an ordinarily short hill, but looked at least a football field long in the current situation.

  “You don’t actually think he’ll bite, do you?” she said, pressing herself against me, the corner of her sketchbook digging into my ass cheek as she tried to peer around my shoulder.

  The feisty little bastard jerked again, and I took a step back, reaching behind me to hold Emory’s hips in my hands and steady her.

  He snorted and drew out a long half squeal, half growl.

  “I don’t know and I’m not looking to find out. I don’t even know what the hell it is.”

  “I’ll Google it. Hang on.”

  This is what I got for leaving my room.

  But dammit, I had to get out of that room.

  I didn’t care for hanging around large groups of people, but Emory was in the crowd and I missed watching her. The way people gravitated toward her, smiled with her, the way she eventually had them throwing their heads back with laughter.

  Here I had the opportunity to see the effect she had on the world and people around her without lowering myself to creep level to do it.

  Which, of course, sounded creepy.

  I almost blew out a breath, but thought better of it when I locked eyes with the curious little bastard holding us hostage. “Usually when you see wild animals out in broad daylight willing to approach humans it’s because they have rabies.”

  “It’s a javelina,” she said by my ear. “Google is adamant it’s not a pig.”

  “So a giant gerbil? Rat?”

  “A peccary,” she practically chirped.

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “A pig-like hoofed animal.”

  “Emory,” I growled.

  Big mistake. The aggressive little fucker stomped toward us and squealed again, this time baring his teeth even more.

  “Does Google happen to mention how we get rid of it?”

  She hummed, her fingernail clicking against her screen behind my ear. “Loud noises should scare it away.”

  “Yaw, yaw!”

  But the little bastard not only stood his g
round, I was pretty sure if he could speak, he’d be saying, “Da fuq? Nice try, moron.”

  “Can they have rabies?”

  “Ummmm, most likely?”

  “You have the internet right at your fingertips. Why are you answering me like you asked that stupid Magic 8-Ball of yours?”

  “Hey, I’m trying to help here.”

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” I said quietly while I kept my eyes locked on the hostile vermin in front of me. “You throw your pen next to him…not too close, a few feet off to the right. He’ll be distracted and you can get up the hill.”

  “I’m not leaving you down here.”

  “Yes, you are. I’ll be fine.”

  “But—”

  I flexed my fingers on her hip. “You can argue with me later. For once can you do as I say? I’ll be right behind you.”

  She sighed. “Fine, but I’ll have you know, this is my favorite pencil.”

  “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  “I have more; it’s just, I finally have the eraser the way I want it on this one.”

  “Emory, my dick is hanging out and dangling a little too close to the growly dude’s territory. I’ll fucking grind every single eraser you own to your specifications, even if it takes hours, to get you to hurry it up already.”

  “Fine,” she sighed. “On three. One…two…three!”

  The pencil sailed through the air and scraped across the loose dirt between the ornery little bastard and the water’s edge.

  The minute the javelina glanced at it, I shoved Emory up the hill.

  She yelped but took the hint and ran up the trail, her sundress swinging hard, giving me a glimpse of her soft round ass.

  And thong.

  Not now, Malone.

  Because I needed to sprout wood giving the seething furry fucker in front of me something to salivate over.

  Oh look…fresh meat and it grows.

  The horror story practically wrote itself.

  And motivated me to lunge for my shorts even as I yanked up my underwear.

  Kind of.

  If you could count stuck around my damp thighs with the waistband tucked under my sac shoving my balls an unsavory few inches higher up.

  Wasn’t skinny dipping supposed to be sexy? In every movie, in every book, and in every fucking fantasy?

  But nope, in real life I couldn’t claim the feel of free ballin’ it in the water was worth the possible aftermath.

  Only in pools.

  I side-eyed the natural pool next to me.

  Okay, chlorinated ones.

  Grabbing the waist of my shorts, I held them open and wondered if I could maybe, slowly, so fucking slowly, manage to fix my drawers and get my shorts on.

  I looked the little bastard in the eye.

  He squinted.

  A hoof pawed the ground and his ass twitched.

  Well, fuck.

  He shot forward, those fucking jagged teeth of his on full display. I crouched, shorts in hand, ready to grab him around the neck and secure his head so he couldn’t bite the shit out of me.

  What I would do after I didn’t know.

  Killing the wild little fucker while Emory watched—no.

  He lunged and I did the only thing I could.

  With one scoop, I caught him in the waistband of my shorts. The force of his body propelled him right through until his snout, mouth, and beady little eyes popped out the leg hole.

  With his front feet trapped, he skittered and hopped on his back hooves, thrashing against the fabric.

  His teeth snapped as he threw his head left and right.

  I laughed, the sound more me mocking him in my victory.

  Big mistake.

  When was I going to get it through my thick skull karma would take every opportunity to pop me in the teeth?

  Really, when?

  He swung his head around at me and lunged again, this time his hoof scraping down my shin.

  I jumped back, started to roll my ankle, and to keep from spraining it or worse, I took the weight off my foot and let my body go.

  I fought the urge to lock my muscles, knowing if the length of my body took the hit to the ground I’d be fine.

  As long as I didn’t try to catch myself.

  Just like a toddler falling down the stairs. Don’t clench, don’t clench, don’t son of a bi—a thousand hot needles burrowed under my skin as I hit the ground. The air whooshed from my lungs, leaving me gasping as I struggled to drag air back in.

  This was how I was going out.

  A mutated rabid gerbil trapped in my gym shorts was going to chew my face off through the leg hole of my shorts with the mesh built-in to hold my balls tickling his fucking ear.

  That’s if he didn’t decide to go for the dick hanging off me first.

  The fall took care of the growing problem so maybe he’d forget about my lap rocket until my face was gone and I’d long gone into shock.

  “No, damn you! Shoo, shoo, I said shoo dammit. Go!” Emory yelled.

  She came into view, her body blocking the piercing hot rays of the sun. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted the shitbag who’d started this whole thing dart along the trail, beyond the water, and into the shrubs.

  With my shorts.

  I hope he ate them and exploded.

  “Oh my God, Falcon,” Emory said, crouching down next to me.

  “Now the little bastard runs off,” I said, letting my head fall back to the dirt. Half on my back and half on my side, I tried to roll onto my hands and knees, but the minute I shifted, the needles sliced into me again.

  “Don’t move! Not yet. Shit.”

  “What the hell is that?” I said with a grunt from the pain shooting straight through my skin into my bones.

  “Cactus. A mean one. Here, I’m going to straddle your legs. Give me your hand and we’re going to do this in one swift shot. It’s going to hurt.”

  “Already does,” I said, wincing. I glanced to see a cluster of thorns less than an inch from my dick and froze, my muscles going completely rigid, making sharp pain soar over my left side.

  I glanced up at Emory. “Pull with everything you’ve got, sweetheart, or the party might be over before it really ever started.”

  She rolled her lips over her teeth and gave me a jerky nod as she threw her thick hair into a ponytail. “I see that.”

  “The most unflattering angle ever.”

  She laughed.

  Laughed.

  And fuck if my lips didn’t twitch despite the pain, the embarrassment, and the total fucking shitshow unfolding.

  She’d seen me in my worst moments all those years ago.

  And here we were again.

  There’d never be another woman I’d want right beside me when shit went sideways.

  So yeah, karma, but maybe also a sign. A painful one.

  If I didn’t know better, this payback had Ethan written all over it.

  Pain, humiliation, a delay on fucking his sister…yup, definitely Ethan’s style.

  She crouched down and reached out her hand.

  I took it and brought it to my mouth, pressing my lips to her knuckles to banish the hint of fear lurking in her eyes. “Don’t hesitate, sweetheart. Just pull.”

  She didn’t count this time. It’s like she knew I didn’t want her to. I needed her to cut out any hint of anticipation and act before one of us lost our nerve.

  All the fucking sensations lit into me at once.

  Thorns dug deep into my hip.

  Thorns tore free from my ribs.

  The fire of a thousand suns erupted under my punctured and torn skin as Emory yanked me right to my feet.

  “Oh my God, Falcon.”

  “How bad is it?” I asked gingerly, sliding up my boxer briefs. I barely got my business tucked in when the waist band along my side and back caught on a section of thorns sticking out of my skin, the pain eliciting a growl through my teeth.

  She cupped my cheeks with both hands and ginger
ly pulled my face down to hers even as she pushed up onto her tiptoes. “I have tweezers in my bag. The rooms have liquor. This might take a while,” she said, brushing a gentle, reassuring kiss over my lips.

  22

  So golf cart seats don’t lie down. At all.

  I don’t know why I thought they might. Maybe since everything here was so damn luxurious, but I found the limits to Dustin and Sierra’s powers.

  Four seats, premium golf cart, but at a full-on ninety-degree angle of suck if Falcon’s steely glare was any indication.

  I didn’t know whether I should go slow and watch him fight to hold his body straight as he stretched out on his side for twice as long, or floor it and get there as fast as possible.

  Ten minutes. Ten agonizing minutes.

  Thirteen horrendous bumps.

  I could give Sierra a full-blown list for her crew coming out next week.

  You know, in case she wanted to prep the cart path for the next time a naked man went head-on with a javelina and wound up fifty percent light on his clothes, but fifty percent heavy on cactus.

  “Tell me your key is not in the shorts the javelina is now wearing?” I said, propping my shoulder under Falcon’s arm as I helped him ease off the seat and shuffle to the door of his suite.

  “Nope. Didn’t want to lose them so I dropped them in the sconce next to my door.”

  “Good.” I propped him up against the jamb and pushed up to my tiptoes to reach for the globe. Lifting the glass, the keys rattled and the ring flopped over the edge where I could grab it.

  “I don’t know if sticking with classic keys was brilliant or stupid,” I muttered to myself. I glanced over and caught the brooding look on his face as he glared at his door. “What’s the matter?”

  “This fucking room,” he said with a pain-laced growl.

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  A hint of shame filled his turbulent gaze. “Would you think less of me if I said I was afraid of it?”

  I laughed at the way his eyebrows dropped low, completing his surly look. “That’s ridiculous,” I said, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

  He hobbled ahead of me, ignoring the light switch.

  With the blackout curtains drawn, I could hardly see my own hand in front of me. Slivers of light barely crept in where the curtains met. “Well, that’s part of the problem. You’ve kept it like a tomb in here.” I flicked the light on, and dim golden light filled the space. There it was, standing against the center of the gold-toned wall, the dungeon bed in its full steel glory.