“Yes. Where is he?”
“They came and arrested him not even half an hour ago. They said it was for attempted murder. He’ll be going down for a long time if they can prove it.”
“Shit.” My foot shoots out and kicks the ottoman. “Yeah, they can prove it.”
Luke crosses his arms. “Really? You’re upset about this? I’d have thought you’d be happy about that asshole being locked up.”
I laugh and sink to the couch. “Yeah, well you didn’t hear the last conversation he and I had, detailing the ways my life, yours, and Andy’s will be a living hell if he goes down.” I sum up the salient details of the conversation for Luke, whose face goes from shocked to outraged.
He paces around the living room. “I’m glad he’s been arrested and I hope he rots there. As bad as he is, I never thought he’d actually try to kill someone. I can’t wrap my mind around it. We wanted Andy out of the races, not fucking dead.”
“And I’ve been trying to mitigate their bullshit the whole time to keep her safe. What kind of guy does this?”
“I don’t know what the hell happened to him, he never used to be this bad.”
My head pounds with anger. “Yeah. And he’s probably in interrogation now, singing like a goddamned canary, taking me down with him. Luke, if he manages to get me arrested too, promise me you’ll look out for Andy and take care of yourself—keep your nose clean or everything will have been for nothing.”
“Matt, I—”
“Promise me!” I glare.
He sighs. “I promise. I’m more likely to go down than you are. I’m still on probation from that bust; it wouldn’t take much for them to throw my ass back in jail.”
“This whole situation sucks. I never wanted this.”
“I’m sorry, man.” Regret and guilt pull at Luke’s features.
“No, this is not on you. Who the hell would have thought attempted murder would be a part of this shitstorm?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ve got no clue. I have to make sure Andy’s okay through all of this. She’s a good person and didn’t deserve any of these things to happen to her.”
Kingsley slinks into the living room. “Who, little miss Perris? She’s not your problem anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Paid her a visit myself, told her all about our plan.”
Goosebumps break out across my back and spread down my arms. “What plan?”
Kingsley smirks. “The one where you were only fucking her as a distraction, getting her to fall in love with you to forget about racing. Her face.” He makes a stunned, heartbroken expression then shakes his head. “No, I can’t do it justice. You had to be there.”
“She wouldn’t believe that, bro, don’t sweat it,” Luke reassures me, but the doubt on his face eclipses the words.
Kingsley cackles. “She didn’t, at first, until I showed her a few texts and bam! Suddenly there was a whole lot of doubt in them pretty green eyes.”
That was why she was so upset—not because I yelled, but because she thought I was upset at her for turning Dad in. She had no idea it’s because I’m petrified something will happen to her and I left to try to salvage the situation.
From her perspective, I as good as admitted the Mercys are where my loyalties lay and then fled her apartment.
“Get the hell out.” Luke’s voice shakes with anger.
“Excuse me?” Kingsley puffs up, face growing red.
“You heard me. Fuck off. The damage has been done—no need to stay and gloat about it.”
Kingsley holds up the backpack he’s carrying. “No need to worry about me. I’m getting the hell out of here anyways.”
“What, you’re finally tired of being Dad’s lapdog? Or is this just another example of how the rats desert a sinking ship?” I snap.
My uncle sneers. “Funny how you’re the one who’s screwed the most out of this whole situation, isn’t it? I ain’t his lapdog, but I ain’t taking the fall for this either.” He looks at Luke. “I was going to warn you to get out of town too, but it appears you’re more like your brother than we thought. Shame. Have a nice life.” He wastes no time exiting the house and tearing down the driveway in his truck.
Luke disappears for a minute and comes back with two beers, passing one to me. “Not sure if this calls for a celebration or drowning our sorrows, but it felt like it was time for a goddamn drink.”
I tap my can against his. “I hear that.” It’s hair of the dog and helps with my hangover, but my stomach is curdled into a hard knot of apprehension, anger, and frustration, and my chest aches with regret. I start thumbing a text to Andy, and toss the phone to the couch with a groan, because what the hell do I say? “This fucking sucks.”
“Call her. Tell her the truth. You can still get out of here.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do that. Running away won’t help and it’s not like she’d leave her dad and brother.” I fix him with a direct stare. “And I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone either. That’s not fair.”
“It’s not fair you should lose her either.”
Pain lances through my chest, choking me. If I’ve lost her...Andy getting hurt would be far worse. I’ve got to keep her safe—it’s my first priority now. “I can’t make her worry about this shit for nothing. Just dumping this on her without a solution?” I shake my head. “Once I figure out what to do, then I’ll talk to her.”
“What are we going to do?” He gulps at his beer.
The right thing? What is the right thing. Walking away? Waiting and seeing what Dad tells them, if anything? “I’ve got to go. There’s someone I’ve got to see.”
“Don’t do anything drastic. Wait and see what happens with Dad and then come up with a plan.”
“I’ve got to do this, Luke.”
He shakes his head and drains his can.
I really want to wait and see and have a calm attitude about things. But the time for passivity has passed.
My future prospects leave a far bitterer taste in my mouth than the beer.
HIS LEFT THUMB AND right wrist were broken in the crash, and he rests them above the blanket, casts on full display. A purple bruise peeks out the top of his hospital gown, just touching his neck. There’s another on the side of his forehead. The sound is turned off, but I don’t need to hear the heart monitor to know his blood pressure and pulse shoot up the moment Patrick Perris sees me.
“What the fuck are you here for? Come to finish me off?”
I hold my hands in what I hope is a placating gesture. “Nothing like that. It was my Dad and he’s been arrested. I came here to talk and see if you’re okay.”
“Oh, maybe you’d also like to sign my casts because you’re such a great guy and we’re so close?”
“Patch—”
“Don’t call me that. We’re not friends.” He fumbles with the water jug, and I can tell he wants to punch the small, rolling table, but with two injured hands it’s not worth it.
I refill his glass for him and set it on his tray. “We used to be friends.”
“Acquaintances.” He sips his water through the straw.
“Words don’t cut it, but I’m really sorry about this. I had no idea my dad was capable of it. I’m going to make things right.”
He laughs. “And how are you going to do that? Because from where I’m sitting”—he gestures at the room and the hospital bed with his cast—“things don’t look so easily fixed.”
“I’m going to talk to the cops. Tell them everything.”
Patrick’s gaze makes me want to wither with shame. “And what if they lock you up?”
“I’m running under the assumption they will.”
“What, and you came here to beg for forgiveness? Beg for me to lie and give you an alibi? Why would you go to jail if your dad’s the one who did this?”
I take a seat in the chair next to his bed. “There are other things that went down, things unrelate
d to your family.”
“Why am I not surprised you’d be slinking around in the gutters, up to shady shit?”
His words are a kick in the teeth, but I deserve them and more. “I came here because I need you to protect Andy. My uncle’s left town, probably for good, so he’s not a concern without someone to tell him what to do. He always was more of a follower. Dad’s locked up, and I’m going to make sure he stays that way for what he did to you.”
“Sounds like Andy’s fine, but I might die from the irony of you telling me to protect my baby sister.”
“My family aren’t the only ones who may retaliate.” I tell him about the whole sorry situation, including the shit with Aaron Samson and Dad’s final threats before he got arrested.
Patch shakes his head. “How did you turn out like this, man?”
“Believe it or not, I worked hard to get away from this shit. Up until I came back here, my life was very different. I kept my nose clean. I never wanted anything like this to happen. I was only trying to stop them from burning the garage down outright.”
“By dating my sister and screwing her over.”
“That was never part of my plan.” I shrug. “I like her. I love her.”
“You don’t deserve her.”
One short huff of laughter barks past my lips. “I know. Doesn’t stop it from being true. I’m doing this because I love her, and want to make sure she’s okay and stays safe. I care about you and your family more than I care about my own—with the exception of my little brother.”
“The most frustrating thing isn’t that I’m sitting here fucked up.” Patch rubs his forehead like this conversation is literally painful for him. “It’s that I think you’re actually telling the truth.”
“I am.”
“You know, I heard about you telling people to stay away from Andy or they’d have to go through you. If that’s true, maybe you’re not the total bastard I thought you were. Go talk to Andy before turning yourself in.”
“You’re right. I owe it to her to apologize and let her say goodbye.”
He smiles. “I was more thinking along the lines of giving her one last chance to tear your balls off and feed them to you. My little sister’s tough.”
“I know. But she’s still going to need help.”
His smile fades. “Don’t worry about her. We’ll take care of her—we always do.”
I duck my head and leave.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Andy
The visitor is unwelcome but expected.
At least I was warned he’d be coming, giving me just enough time to throw away the small mountain of tissues and do something about my skin’s blotchiness.
Because he doesn’t get to know how upset I am. My feelings are no longer any of his business.
“Matt.”
Matt’s eyes reflect the sorrow I feel, but there’s no guilt in mine. He swallows hard and fidgets on my stairs. “Thank you.”
I lean against the doorframe. “For what?”
“For not throwing me out or slamming the door in my face.”
“Yet. Bit early for that hasty assumption.” My emotions battle over throwing him down the stairs, or throwing him to my floor and climbing on top. There’s no in between.
He nods. “I came to apologize and tell you the truth.”
“I know. Patch called before you got here.”
His forehead twitches. “What did he say?”
“Surprisingly, that you’d stopped by to talk to him and apologize. And I should expect a visit from you. Only I can’t think what we’d have to talk about that I’d find interesting.”
He hangs his head. “So you know?”
My jaw is tight with the tension flowing through me like a live current. “No. He said I should give you the chance to explain things yourself. And if my brother, who’s been hurt the most in this, can give you the time of day to talk to him, I guess I can hear you out, too.” I despise the things Matt did to me. I hate how I still want him. Hearts don’t run on common sense’s timing, unfortunately.
“Can I come in?”
“No, you cannot.” This small measure of power pleases me way too much, but I promised Patch I’d hear Matt out. Why my brother cared is beyond me. I can’t lie to Patrick about giving Matt a chance. Patch is in the freaking hospital, so he’s pretty much going to get what he wants, but I don’t have to be nice to Matt. He said he’ll know if I listened to Matt and heard what he had to say. Just this once, I’m doing exactly what Patch said, because he sounded so pathetic on the phone.
He’s milking it like a motherfucker.
Matthew is lucky for that. If it hadn’t been for Patch’s interference, Matt would be in the hospital, too, being prepped for a testicle retraction right now.
“Say what you’ve come to say, Matthew. I promised Patch I’d listen, I didn’t say I’d let you in for a friendly chat.”
“I’m so sorry. I know how it looked when I yelled at you and rushed out of here. It was because my dad had threatened you if anything happened to him. All along, the only thing I wanted was to be with you and keep you safe. I tried to stay away, but I fucking love you and couldn’t stop seeing you. So, I thought maybe being with you more would help; I’d warn off anyone threatening you and throw those assholes in my gene pool off so they didn’t realize my feelings were real. I had to act like it was fake for them, because my family isn’t like yours, Andy, and I thank God you never grew up like me, got screwed up the way I did. They see emotions and use the thing you care about against you to do what they want.”
“You’ve said that before, Matt. Except for the part about your dad, none of this is really new.” And I wish it was. “It’s more words I’ve already heard, and actions are what matter. Nothing you can say will prove anything.”
“I know.” He grits his teeth, forcing his jaw muscles to stand out. “Which is why I’m turning myself in. I’m going to make a deal with Aaron Samson to leave you alone, even if my dad rats him out. The last thing you need is Aaron trying to get even because of my dad. Then I’m going to tell the police everything—needless to say, that means I won’t see the light of day for some time. This is goodbye.”
“Why would you admit you’ve done illegal things to the cops?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do to keep you safe.”
Tears burn my eyes. “I’m so damned tired of everyone treating me like I’m under attack.”
He gently grasps my face and leans close. “Because you are! Damn it, do you think I’d make a deal with Samson to stay away from you if it wasn’t necessary?”
I grab the front of his shirt and pull him inside, closing the door behind him. “Please tell me you didn’t do that for me, for anything. It’s not worth it.”
“You’re the only thing worth it. I haven’t seen him yet. I’m going to him right after I leave here. Then to the police station.”
Oh, God, his eyes. Bleak with the brutal truth of his intentions. I shake my head in denial, pressing my forehead to his. “Why? You fought so hard to get away from men like him—from the man you used to be. Why would you do this now?”
“Because I love you.” His whispered words touch my lips. “And even if I spend part of my life locked in a cell and the rest of it owned by Samson, I’ll be okay knowing you’re free to be the headstrong, fearless, stubborn woman you’re supposed to be.”
His hands still cradle my jaw, and I grab his wrists, locking him in place. And like that, all isn’t forgotten, but it’s forgiven. I can’t not love this man. He’s willing to give his life away for mine. “I can’t let you do that.” I can’t let you go.
“I have to.”
We’ll see about that. “No.” And I tip my chin forward, pressing my lips to his.
He pulls his hands away, forcing them to his sides as though afraid to touch me.
I ease closer and slip my hands around his waist to his back and hold him close while deepening the kiss. Every muscle in his body is h
ard, tension turning him to stone, but I plunge my tongue into his mouth, sliding it across his.
He thinks he’s protecting me from himself by staying away, but that proves he’s good for me.
His hands creep up, barely touching my hips before he tears them away again.
I pull back and his eyes stay squeezed shut. “I believe you. And I forgive you.”
His eyes fly open, and I claim his lips again before he can say anything stupid.
He shakes his head, and I kiss harder, keeping our lips sealed together to burn away his objections that he’s not good enough for me, because now I know that’s how he feels, which is ridiculous because he’s the best thing I’ve ever touched.
Snaking my arms around his lower back, I hold him as tightly as I can. “I love you, Matthew Mercy.” I continue ravaging his mouth with mine, devouring the self-deprecating words right off his tongue before he can speak them.
His soft moan does something funny to my chest, and the sensation spreads through my limbs, shooting straight to my lower belly.
But he’s still holding back, so I take his hands and bring them to my breasts, brushing his palms over my nipples until they form stiff peaks.
His resistance breaks all at once, physical acceptance washing over me in a sudden onslaught of hands and a mouth that now devours mine and throws me into a storm of pleasure.
The floor disappears from beneath my feet when his hands seize my thighs and wrap them around his hips like a belt, and I cling to his neck and nuzzle his jaw, nibbling his earlobe.
The trip to my bedroom has never been so fast but felt so long.
I can’t get his clothes off fast enough, he takes forever with mine, and my blood sings when at last, we’re pressed skin to skin on my bed, hands ranging over the swells and planes of each other.
I don’t care what happened out there. What matters is he’ll always be right here with me, because this is the rawest, most honest we ever are with each other, and to be denied this for years or forever would be the end of me.
The spark of who I am would be extinguished by his absence. He’s the air to my fire and I need him to fuel me.
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