Deliciously Damaged

by Winters, KB

  “Understood, but security is tight tonight.”

  Thank fuck for that shit. I looked around, hoping to spot members of Roadkill MC but if they were here, they were well hidden. I did see my own family, though, Jana with Max and Teddy and Golden Boy. Beside them sat Cross, Lasso and Stitch. I didn’t know the woman with long black hair streaked with grey sitting between Stitch and Jag. I couldn’t help but smile at all the people who’d shown up for Mandy. She might not know they were there, but if she did, it would mean a lot to the woman who still believed she was all alone in this world.

  She didn’t know how wrong she was.

  I took a seat at the end of the row beside Jag, watching Mandy. As she played, her gaze fixed on nothing but the cards, hers and the dealer, tapping the table or shoving her cards away.

  The tournament began with twenty tables but as they dwindled down, the local news anchor and former blackjack champion hosting the event, went around to each table talking softly behind the players explaining what was happening. As the hours flew by, the tables went from twenty to twelve to seven and finally down to two. The action was surprisingly tense considering how fucking boring the game of blackjack was, with bets getting bigger, players getting bolder and a few even talking smack to each other.

  “Okay folks,” Wendy Crewson, the attractive anchorwoman broke in. “We now have our final table. After a quick break, we’ll get started on the final action!”

  Wendy smiled at the camera and when the director yelled “Cut!” the slick asshole I’d seen with Mandy when I first arrived came out with a woman in a crisp skirt suit and a clipboard.

  He leaned in to whisper in Wendy’s ear, his hand on her lower back. Apparently the guy just liked to rub his paws all over women. Slick Asshole pulled back and gave a solemn nod before they both approached . . . Mandy.

  Shit.

  They pulled her aside into a huddle, talking quietly for a few minutes before they pulled apart. Mandy’s expression was impassive, her hands clasped in front of her as she stood between the suit and the newswoman.

  “And we’re back!” The director pointed to Wendy with her anchorwoman smile fixed on her face.

  “We’re back for the First Annual Siren Blackjack Tournament and a little bit of excitement has gone down on our break. We have the disqualification of a player and Siren owner and CEO Drake Foster is here to explain.”

  Slick Asshole was disqualifying her? What the fuck?

  “Thank you, Wendy, that’s right. It’s come to my attention that Mandy will be our new chef at the gourmet confectionery that will open in a few months. The Chocolate Drop will be the best place for high end sweets in all of Las Vegas, just as soon as Mandy here has recovered from some injuries.” He wrapped an arm around Mandy, who gave him a shaky smile. “Though her employment here hasn’t technically started, management and I agree that for the sake of fairness, it would be best if she withdrew from the tournament. Sorry, Mandy. We don’t want to give the appearance of a conflict of interest.”

  He smiled and handed his mic back to Wendy before escorting Mandy away from the final table.

  I needed to know what the fuck was going on. I followed them down the hall, surprised when no big ass security men tackled me to the ground.

  “Mandy!” She stopped and turned. Slick Asshole did the same. She looked relieved while he looked anxious as my stride ate up the distance between us. I cupped her face in my hands, looking into those green eyes just to make sure she was all right.

  “You scared the hell out of me! Don’t ever do that again,” I told her and yanked her into my arms, holding her tight until I was sure she was safe.

  “Everything okay here, Mandy?” His skin paled under that fake ass spray tan when I glared at him.

  I was about to tell the asshole to fuck off when another voice sounded.

  “Yo, Mandy!” The tension I felt snaking through her told me it was trouble before I turned and spotted a Roadkill mother fucker I was familiar with. Scorch.

  “Stay back,” I growled at them both, pushing Mandy directly behind me.

  “I have security,” Slick Asshole said, a tremble of fear in his voice.

  “Yeah, where the fuck are they, then?”

  I kept my attention on Scorch, enforcer for Roadkill MC and a sick fucker who got off on hurting people. “Scorch, don’t be stupid.”

  He smiled. “This ain’t about you or the Reckless Bastards, Savior. We want the bitch, she owes us.”

  “I don’t owe you shit,” she shouted over my shoulder. That was my girl, feisty as ever.

  “You heard the lady, man. Don’t make me do something you might regret.”

  Scorch tossed his head back and laughed, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to prove he wasn’t scared, but he was. Because while Scorch was a psychopath, he knew I was a fucking killer.

  “You can’t protect the bitch forever. She has a debt to pay, cash or ass.”

  “You willing to bet your life that I can’t protect her forever?”

  “Savior, don’t,” Mandy whispered in my ear, fueling my intensity to protect her.

  “You willing to bet your life for a piece of ass?” Scorch laughed like it was the biggest joke in the world and it took every fucking ounce of control I had not to charge him and choke him until he was permanently silent.

  I smiled a deadly smile that had made more than one grown man piss his pants. “Damn straight I am. Have you seen my girl’s sweet ass? If you had a brain you’d leave now, before the security goons and the law shows up.”

  I backed Mandy up and punched the call button on the elevator because this asshole wouldn’t stop. The debt Krissy owed was big enough that he’d risk the life of a few of his brothers to get it back.

  “I texted Teddy our location,” she whispered, hands on my shoulders, keeping me calm even though she didn’t know it. I couldn’t be reckless, not with Mandy so close to the line of fire.

  My hand reached out to pat her hip. “That’s my girl.”

  “You keep saying that,” she said and I heard the smile in her voice.

  “It’s true,” I told her as my other hand went to my hip, pulling out my Glock. “So what’s it gonna be, Scorch, life or death?” The bell sounded, and I shoved Mandy into the elevator and then Slick Asshole.

  “Ow!” Mandy’s cry drew my attention at the most inopportune moment, but I had to make sure she was all right. I called out, “Mandy, you okay? Shit!”

  The sound of the gun firing came too late, and a bullet went sailing right through my shoulder. “Motherfucker!” I fired off three shots, hitting one of the assholes next to Scorch before I jumped in the elevator.

  “See what happens when you put your life on the line for a piece of ass?” His voice drew closer and I kept my gun trained on the doors, which were still fucking closing.

  “Door!” I shouted at Slick Asshole, who seemed to be frozen in fear. “The goddamn door!”

  Finally, he jumped into action and pressed the close button just as Scorch and one of his men stood in front of the closing doors. I fired three shots as the car began to move. “Holy shit! What the fuck?” Slick Asshole stared at Mandy, eyes wide with terror.

  “Two dead assholes,” I told him and then collapsed to the floor of the elevator. I’d been shot before, a few flesh wounds and one that ripped through my stomach years ago, so I knew the deal, but I was losing blood fast.

  “Savior! Shit, you’re hurt.” She cupped my face and I knew what she saw, my eyes glassy and dazed. Her eyes missed nothing, staring at my shoulder spurting blood. “Jacket,” she barked at the man, snapping her fingers and I had to smile. Mandy was still trying to control the uncontrollable. “Shirt too,” she said distractedly.

  “This suit costs—”

  “Give me the fucking clothes!”

  If I wasn’t in so much pain and losing blood like I had any to spare, I would have laughed at how quickly Slick Asshole removed his jacket and then his button-up shirt.

&nb
sp; “Here,” he shoved his jacket at Mandy and watched as she folded it and put it under my head, then the expensive silk blue shirt.

  She snapped her fingers again and pointed to his bony chest. He got it, peeling off his wife beater and handing it to her with shaky hands. Shock. Despite his mobster look, the guy was probably an Ivy Leaguer who’d never even heard a gunshot outside of TV.

  “Thank you, Drake.” She balled up the t-shirt and pressed it to my shoulder, pulling a string of colorful curses from me. “Sorry, but we have to stop the bleeding.”

  “I know. You worried about me, Pixie?” My smile was weak, but her lips curved in response.

  Then turned into a glare. “You took a bullet for me dumbass, of course I am.” Her expression softened, eyes the color of jade flickered with worry and maybe even affection.

  Despite the pressure, the elevator floor was more red than blue at this point as blood spurted out of my shoulder. It was probably an artery, I thought as black spots clouded my vision.

  “Aww, Mandy, I love you too.” At least I thought that was what I said to her, but what the hell did I know?

  Chapter 23

  Mandy

  My heart never pounded so much in my entire life as it did when I watched Savior’s big strong body crumple to the floor in a bloody heap. Having him passed out in my arms might have induced a heart attack, but I couldn’t move my hands, not with the way the blood spurted out. I didn’t know much about wounds, but in culinary school we’d all had our fair share of cuts so I knew the first key was to stop the bleeding.

  One look at Drake and I wanted to scream, but his back was to me while he whispered into the phone. I wondered who he could possibly be talking to at a time like this, but I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t my place. I was just a future employee. Drake ended his call and pocketed his phone before turning to me with a frown. “We have a concierge doctor on staff, he’s meeting us in the penthouse suite.”

  “Thanks, Drake. Sorry about all this, and I can pay for the suit.” My voice wobbled in relief. There was no way Savior would make it even if we got him to a car right now, not in Vegas traffic. The hospital was an easy twenty minutes away on a good night.

  “You can pay for the suit?”

  I understood his question even as I ignored his incredulous tone.

  “A lifetime of dead family members will do that,” I told him, my gaze still on Savior, whose pulse had slowed enough that my own heart lurched into my stomach.

  “Shit. Tough girl.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t tough. No, I was numb and hollow. Too much loss and not enough of anything else.

  “Life demands it. Look Drake, I’m sorry about all this and I completely get it if you want to rescind the job offer.”

  He frowned, his hazel eyes sparking gold against the mirrored walls of the elevator. “You kidding me? Your boyfriend saved my life. The job is still yours, if you’re not traumatized every time you come to work.” His hand shook as it scraped through his dark hair, which wasn’t as perfectly coifed as it had been earlier.

  I nodded at his words, but I couldn’t focus on him when Savior was unconscious and bleeding. “Come on, Savior, wake up! Say something dirty or stupid or piss me off! Please!” I leaned over and touched my forehead to his, feeling something in my heart crack wide open at the sight of him lying there. Lifeless. I couldn’t lose him.

  “I never would have pegged you to date a biker.” Drake’s words drifted down, disbelief coloring his words.

  “I’m not. We’re not dating, not really.” Hell, I hadn’t seen Savior in at least a week and I’d been fully prepared to leave town without a goodbye.

  “The man took a bullet for you and said he loved you, so maybe between physical therapy and playing nurse to him, you might want to figure your shit out.”

  At my incredulous look, he shrugged. “I need you one hundred percent when you start, and a confectioner in love will make me plenty of money.”

  I couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped. “Your concern is overwhelming.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try to tamp it down.”

  The doors finally slid open at the penthouse and I looked down at Savior again, limp and lifeless. “Vick! Wake up.” I tapped his cheek lightly, silently pleading with him to come to. There was no way Drake and I could carry him even a few feet.

  “Savior,” I practically shouted. His lips curled at the corners first and then those big blue eyes fluttered open and I swear, my heart straight up sighed. “There you are,” I said on a whisper. “I need you to stand up so we can get you to the doctor.”

  His face, already twisted in pain, turned hard. “No fucking hospital.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Stubborn ass. My new boss has a fancy doctor on staff, so just get on your damn feet and lean on us so we can get you looked at.”

  I handed Drake his jacket. He put it on, smoothing it down over his bare chest.

  Savior blinked and nodded, grunting as Drake and I helped him to his feet. “Where the hell was your security, uhm …”

  “Drake,” he filled in for him. “And I’ve got someone looking into just that now. Thanks for that.”

  Savior grunted as we got him into the suite and onto the bed. The doctor, a bald man in a nice blue suit and crisp brown eyes, helped us get him on the bed. While the doctor looked him over, I pulled out my phone, trying to figure out who to call. Savior’s grasp tightened on my hand and I looked down at him with a smile.

  “Take it easy, cowboy, I’m just telling everyone you’re all right.” His grip didn’t loosen and I stood there beside him. I could tell them later. Right now, I was just glad Savior was okay.

  The doctor cut his long sleeve t-shirt off and examined the wound, drawing a wince from Savior. He turned to me. “Can you grab some towels? I need to flush this out.” Then he started preparing a bunch of medical stuff and I gave Savior’s hand one last squeeze before leaving the room.

  All I could think about as I grabbed two handfuls of fluffy white towels from the bathroom was that Savior had taken a bullet for me. He’d come to watch out for me, maybe even to support me and I’d been an insensitive asshole for the past few weeks. He said he loved me and I wanted to believe him. I wasn’t sure I believed in love, didn’t even know if I could love after losing my brother, but my heart wanted to believe Savior loved me.

  Which meant I was totally fucking screwed.

  Because I loved him too. The way my heart stopped when he collapsed, the bone deep ache in my stomach from missing him, had been trying to tell me what I was determined to ignore. That despite my insistence, my better judgment and my hardened heart, I’d fallen in love with a biker. A soldier.

  “I can feel you staring at me, Pixie. Get your sweet ass in here.”

  I didn’t know how he knew I was there, watching him but I didn’t care. I needed to be near him.

  And when I was, I couldn’t stop touching him, assuring myself that he was okay while the doctor arranged the towels underneath him. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

  “Thanks to you, Pixie.”

  The doctor cleared his throat. “It’s a through and through and I’ve cleaned and bandaged it up. I have some painkillers and antibiotics I can give you now, as well as prescriptions for later.”

  He gave a few care instructions and left his card, before leaving us alone in the suite. Drake had already left, probably to fire his security team, if I had to make a guess. Probably grabbing a shirt before he chewed someone’s ass.

  “I guess I’m going to have to take care of you.” The idea of that didn’t sound so bad.

  “Yeah? Where you gonna do that, Pixie, your mysterious hotel room?”

  My shoulders deflated at his words. He was right. I had a job and until that one started, a temporary job taking care of Savior. And no place to live.

  “Don’t you worry about that, I can take care of you and look for a place to live.”

  He shook his head, clasping our hands together. “No
need. My place is big enough for two.”

  “I’m not moving in with you,” I told him, smiling against his lips before sealing them together in a kiss that was both tender and thrilling. Sweet and hot. He winced and that was my cue to pull back, still smiling.

  “I meant it, you know, Pixie. I do love you.”

  Tears pooled in my eyes and I felt like one of those silly women who got all choked up at the barest hint of affection, but I could tell behind the pain and behind his own fear of saying such significant words, that he meant it. He really did love me. But it wasn’t something I could handle right now. I believed him, but tonight had been … a lot. I kissed him softly and pulled back. “Tell me again when you haven’t lost a few gallons of blood.”

  “Don’t worry … I … will,” he said, smiling sleepily before he passed out.

  I smiled and sat beside him, holding his hand and watching him sleep for hours. This, me and Savior, was something special. And scary as hell. But as I sat there, letting the slow rise and fall of his sleeping form soothe my frazzled nerves, I knew I wouldn’t run away from it again. Things might end badly, and they probably would if history was any indication, but I had a feeling it would be amazing in the meantime.

  But first, I needed to clean all this blood off of me.

  Epilogue

  Six months. Savior and I had been living together for six months and it hadn’t turned bad. I was even starting to believe that it might not. Which was cause for celebration.

  Today was supposed to be my day off but I’d spent a few hours in the morning checking over the chocolates I’d ordered from South America and putting together a few gourmet baskets I wanted to test out in the shop. I dropped one off for Drake and took the others to Jana and Teddy, who’d had their babies eight weeks apart. Visiting with them, watching two new mothers fall in love with their children was gratifying. And it solidified what I wanted to do today.

  What I needed to do.

  When I got home, I took a long hot shower and set the scene. I didn’t want Jana and Teddy to make a big deal out of it, so I stopped at a craft store on the way home and got everything I needed. It took a few minutes to get everything in place, but when it was, I got dolled up and slipped into the only pair of stilettos I owned. And then I waited for Savior to get home from the clubhouse.