Hendrix (Caldwell Brothers #1)

by Chelsea Camaron

  “I can’t believe you just said that.” She giggles with a snort.

  “I can’t believe you won’t let me touch it,” I say as I reach down and rub between her legs.

  “I think you’ll make it.” She steps back, shaking her head.

  I grab her and pull her closer. “You’ve been taking care of me, but, Livi, I am jonesin’ to bury my tongue—”

  “Welcome back,” Morrison interrupts, walking out of the back, shirtless and buttoning his pants. “How’s your old man?” He walks up to Livi and pulls her into a big bear hug, hiding her face against his chest as he nods his head. Then, while two chicks come sneaking out of the back and beeline it to the door, he gives me a wink, and I shake my head.

  When he finally lets go of Livi, she looks at me, and I merely shrug and roll my eyes.

  “Things are fine,” she says, stepping back. “But this place is trashed.” She gives him a look, one like our momma used to give us when we fucked up.

  He’s caught off guard. “Well, I…”

  “You should have had them two”—she points to the door—“help you clean up instead of making them sneak out.”

  His jaw drops, and he runs his hand through his hair. “They, um, they were too drunk to drive?”

  I want to bust up laughing. Morrison is never at a loss for words, and Livi is being all badass, not even rubbing that ass. I am fucking starving for her now.

  As he clears his throat and looks at her, I see his eyes. I know shit is about to get funky.

  “Babe, they couldn’t even walk straight, so how do you expect them to clean up?”

  “They looked to be walking just fine.” She laughs as she bends over to pick up a bottle. She hands it to him. “Someday, you’ll be able to handle one all by yourself.”

  “What?” He grins.

  “I just don’t understand why you needed the other chick to help you out,” she says, tossing it out over her shoulder as she walks past him. She looks at me and smiles. “I’m going in the kitchen.”

  “Where all women belong,” Morrison yells to her.

  What does my little, sexy badass do? She flips him off and keeps on walkin’.

  Morrison looks at me. “I liked her better before you two took off.”

  “Yeah, well, I love that one in there, so you better behave.” I chuckle as I walk around the bar.

  “What the fuck did you just say?” Morrison gasps.

  “You heard me. Now grab a broom and a bag, and let’s get this place cleaned up before I flip my shit.”

  “So, is she…?” He gestures a big belly.

  “Nah.” I shake my head.

  “And you still”—he cringes—“L-word her?”

  “Shut the fuck up and clean.”

  *.*.*.*

  By noon, the place is clean. Livi is yawning, so I send her fine, little ass home. For the rest of the day and night, it isn’t busy, but it is steady. Some of the locals even ask where she is. It’s a mind fuck. They like her, too, and they better, ‘cause if I have it my way, she’ll be a permanent fixture soon.

  At midnight, the place is a ghost town. Normally, I would hang out and listen to tunes, but the only tune I want to hear right now is the little, sleepy sounds Livi makes when she sleeps.

  I am getting ready to turn out the beer lights when I see Jagger hobbling out of a cab. He stumbles to the door as I swing it open.

  “What the fuck happened to you?” His eyes are swollen shut, his face gashed, and I know he needs stitches.

  “Same shit, different day, man.”

  “You fucking his bitch again?”

  “Nope. I won’t fuck that again. I did let her suck my dick, though.”

  “No choice this time, Jag, we’re going to the ER.”

  Jag is getting sewn up as I text Morrison to meet me. I ask the ER doc how long it’s gonna be, and he tells me an hour at least.

  It isn’t long before Morrison texts me that he’s out front, and I tell Jag I’ll be back. He’s half asleep and doesn’t give a shit. His rib is cracked, but he’s hopped up on pain pills.

  I open the door to Morrison’s car and get in.

  “He okay?”

  “He will be, but this shit is done. That mother fucker is done.” I punch his dash.

  “Dude, not the dash.” Morrison rubs where I hit. “Save it for the fucking pussies who jumped Jag. How many are we looking at, by the way?”

  “Four, five, he wasn’t sure.”

  “Fuck,” he says and looks down at his shirt. “I’m gonna fuck up the threads.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ~Olivia~

  Movement in the room wakes me from my slumber.

  “Hendrix?” I greet groggily, looking over at the clock that reads five-twelve.

  “Go back to sleep, Livi.” His voice is gravely with fatigue.

  I sit up, looking through the dark at him. “You’re late,” I simply state, trying to keep my girlie emotions in check.

  Where has he been? The bar has been closed for hours. More than where has he been, who has he been with? My mind races.

  He walks into the bathroom, the light catches, and I see his face is different shades of purple. Quickly scanning down his exposed torso as he changes, I see the red marks of irritation around his ribs even through the tattoos.

  Sliding out of the bed, I follow him to the bathroom. His hands are busted, and his knuckles are covered in abrasions, swollen, and clearly irritated.

  “Hendrix?” I question from the doorway of the bathroom as he continues to strip and climb into the shower.

  What happened? I mentally ask myself.

  “Livi?” he replies.

  “Why are you banged up?” I ask as fear builds inside me.

  Did someone attempt to rob him? Jump him?

  “Go back to sleep. You have to work tomorrow. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

  “That’s all you’re sorry for?” I rub my butt. ‘Keep it real’ is my current inspiration. How fitting.

  He raises an eyebrow at me, but this only sets my temper off more.

  “You come home late, clearly you have been in an altercation of some sort, and all you say to me is ‘I’m sorry I woke you up?’ How about, ‘Livi, I wasn’t mugged tonight, but about these cuts and bruises…’?”

  He smirks at me.

  “Well, were you robbed? Do we need to call the cops? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  “Livi—”

  “Don’t you Livi me! You’re hurt. We need to get you looked at.”

  “I’ve already been to the hospital once tonight. I’m not going back.”

  “What!” I shriek. “You went to the hospital and didn’t call me? I can’t believe you wouldn’t want me to be there.”

  “Chill, Livi, and let me get a word in.”

  I put my hands on my hips and tap my foot, waiting for him to continue.

  “Jagger got jumped tonight. After I got him to the emergency room and stitched up, Morrison and I went and took care of it. I’m home now. I didn’t mean to wake you. I know you have to work at the hospital, so go back to bed. I’ll be there in a few.”

  “Is Jagger okay?”

  “Yes, Livi. Now, please, go to bed.”

  I blow out a breath. He wasn’t mugged. Scrapper. He was in a fight for his brother.

  One thing I love about the Caldwell brothers is their loyalty to each other. They are a family.

  My frustration builds. I understand why he did it, but his attitude coming home bothers me. Coming in at five in the morning like it’s okay bothers me. Coming in and not explaining what is going on bothers me. There is so much about this situation that bothers me.

  Go back to bed. Go back to bed. The more I stand here, and he dismisses me, the more annoyed I get.

  Fine, I decide, I’ll go back to bed.

  I lay there, unmoving, as the bed dips a short while later, and Hendrix climbs in. He pulls me to him, and as much as I want to fight it, I can’t. He is home. He is saf
e. A little banged up, but it is not nearly as bad as it could have been.

  I fall back asleep, but all too soon, my alarm goes off, and I quickly dismiss it. Moving off Hendrix, I get up slowly, trying not to wake him.

  I watch him as he sleeps. He has a black eye, a cut on his nose, but otherwise, he is looking much better than just hours ago.

  Finally, I move efficiently and leave the room without waking him.

  Arriving at work, Tabby and Toni are already in our small office talking. They both come over and hug me, making sure to ask about my dad.

  Before we can settle in to catch up with each other, I am buzzed to a patient’s room.

  The day passes in a blur as I help a family negotiate through the loss of their dad. In a strange way, I miss mine. We aren’t close, but after seeing him so sick and fighting to make things right with me, I can’t help but miss him now.

  Feeling unsure where I stand with Hendrix only makes me want to run back to California more. He left me out in the cold emotionally. Something happened with his brother, and he shut me out to handle it. He said he loved me, but did I read more into things with us?

  I work later than usual. Getting home, Hendrix is already at the bar for the evening, so I feed Floyd and have some dinner.

  Being in his space, I realize the joke is over. I should probably sort out my living situation. I need to find a new place.

  How much do I owe Hendrix for the work on my car and for staying here? All the questions playing in my head make me more emotional and, quite frankly, dizzy.

  Exhaustion sweeps over me, and I fall asleep on his couch. Sometime in the night, Hendrix comes in and carries me to bed. I wake up to my alarm, all tangled in him and unable to remember being moved.

  “Livi…” Hendrix tries to talk.

  “I have to get ready for work,” I whisper then move away from him and out of the bed, sadness swelling inside me at the distance between us.

  Silently, I ready for my day. He watches me, yet says nothing. Broody is back. What is he so pissed off about?

  Tension builds between us as I leave for my workday.

  The hospital day passes all too soon. As I leave, I am a little depressed knowing I am going home to an empty house that I’m not sure I am even wanted at anymore.

  Surprise slaps me in the face when I come home to find Hendrix sitting on the couch, waiting for me.

  “You’re late,” he greets.

  Well, I see how this is going to go.

  “That happens sometimes with my job.”

  “Cut the shit, Livi.”

  “You cut the … crap, Hendrix.” I try for sass; only, I miss the mark.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  I tap my fingers on my chin. “Hmmm … The man I’m in love with comes home hours late, beat up—”

  He cuts me off. “I was not beat up, Liv. I promise, the five shitheads who touched my brother were worse off than Morrison or myself.”

  Tears fill my eyes. “When I looked at the clock and saw the time, I panicked. Do you know the thoughts that ran through my head?”

  “I told you, they jumped Jagger. I had to take him to the hospital, and then Morrison and I needed to handle it.”

  “Yes, you did tell me all of this. After. The. Fact. It’s okay; I get it now. You guys are family. I’m the outsider. I’m just the ‘piece.’” I know it’s a low blow throwing the panties in his face, but he hurt me by pushing me out.

  Before I can react, he is up and in front of me.

  “What did you just call yourself?”

  Nerves hit me, but I stand my ground. “I’m just the piece. Your—” I can’t finish as his lips crash down on mine. His lips are like a drug I can’t turn down. He intoxicates me with his taste.

  Once he has me off balance physically and emotionally, he pulls away.

  “You’re more than just a piece, Livi. Don’t play games with me.”

  “You shut me out. I know they’re your brothers, but it made me feel like you didn’t want me to be a part of that, like you didn’t want me to be part of your family. I was worried about you, about Jagger, and Morrison. Yet, I was left in the dark and dismissed like I was a regular booty call, not something more.”

  “Fuckin’ crazy—” he starts, but I cut him off.

  “Crazy about you. Crazy about Caldwells. I want to know you’re safe. I want to know your brothers are safe. I want something real, Hendrix.”

  “It doesn’t get any more real than this, Livi.” He steps back and holds my hand. “You and I live together, sleep together, and we even work together.” He lifts my knuckles to his mouth and rubs his lips across them. “I love you. Nothing’s changed, but you can’t ask me to ignore shit like that. Jagger’s busted up and—”

  “You should have called me.”

  “Noted.” He nods his head and pulls me closer. “You should call when you’ll be late, too, then.”

  I melt into his embrace because I have missed it.

  “Talk to me,” he whispers.

  “I’ve had a couple of rough days. That’s all.”

  “Not what I’m here for,” he says, and in those five words, I am completely confused.

  “I know,” I say, just wanting a reprieve from being upset. I need his touch. I need his embrace. I need his comfort.

  “You wanna come to the bar? I have Morrison covering for me. Needed to make sure we were okay.”

  “We’re okay. I’m gonna stay in.”

  “Okay.” He steps back then leans in and kisses me. “I miss you, Livi.”

  I force myself to smile and nod.

  “See you in a few hours. Jagger and Morrison have been holed up in a hotel. You don’t mind if they come hang out?”

  “Why are they at a hotel?”

  He shrugs. “Told them we needed space, but with our schedules, we haven’t had much time or opportunity to utilize that space, now have we?”

  I shake my head.

  He leans in and gives me another kiss then smiles and shakes his head. “That communal property, that’s a ‘you and me’ thing still, right?”

  I nod and swallow hard.

  “You still bleeding?”

  I shake my head.

  “Good, I need a taste, Livi.” He smirks. “I’m gonna have to wake you up tonight, so why don’t you get some sleep now?” With that, he winks, turns, and then walks out the door.

  I look around and think about what he said.

  Not what I’m here for.

  Confusion sets in, but I am once again exhausted. Going to bed, I fall asleep faster than I expected.

  I wake later to the bed dipping and his arms pulling me close.

  “Livi?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Babe?”

  I can’t do this tonight, not when I am trying to prepare myself for what I know is coming.

  I feel his lips press against the back of my head. Then he breathes in deep, moans, and whispers, “I love you, Livi.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hendrix

  Livi tiptoes around in the morning and is out the door quickly. I hate this distance. I hate wondering what I have done. I hate thinking she would make me choose between her and my brothers.

  My guts are twisted up, so I decide to go for a run to clear my head.

  “Come on, Floyd.”

  It’s cold out, but the sun is shining. I end up running to a place I have yet to enter. I slow down as I approach the iron gates of Elmwood Cemetery and stand still. Floyd plops her ass down on the cold concrete and looks up at me.

  I swear to Christ she shakes her head.

  “I’m going in today.”

  Now I swear she’s rolling her eyes.

  “Fuck you, flea bag,” I pat her head. “Bitches first.” I point to the gate, and her ears perk up. “Jesus, what has she done to you, Floyd?”

  She doesn’t move.

  “Fine, ladies first.”

  Her ass rises slowly. She appears to raise her no
se in the air, and then, I shit you not, she is shaking her ass as she walks ahead of me.

  “Hoe,” I call out, laughing as I follow her in.

  Once inside, we stand, looking down at Mom’s tiny little slab of cement for a while before I bend to brush off the snow.

  “Hey, Momma.” I immediately fight tears. “Fuck, I miss you.”

  Tears build up and start to trickle. “I met a girl, Mom, but I think you know that. She’s amazing and crazy as hell, but I’m pretty sure I am in love with her. Nah, I know I am, but I think I’m screwing things up.”

  I sit and wait for something: a sign, a voice, God himself to come down and tell me what to do. All I get is the wind burning my face and angry that this is all I have given her. A fucking rock. But, hell, she picked it out. She didn’t want anything fancy. She wanted one thing, and that was for us boys to open up to love and be happy.

  Floyd’s wet nose nudges my hand, and I pat her head.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t bring flowers, Momma. I’m sorry I haven’t stopped by. I don’t feel close to you here. It’s too damn cold and just not you. You’re at the bar and in my thoughts every day. I’m gonna get going now. Love you, Mom.”

  I bend down and brush the snow off the rest of the cold slab of stone and see ‘Beloved Mother’ and the words, I have left a legacy of good in a world of bad.

  The words hit me hard. They have never carried as much weight as they do now. It was one of the last things she asked us to do. We are what she has left the world, and I will be damned if I won’t make her proud of what she gave this world.

  “Let’s go, Floyd.”

  I kiss my hand and rub it across her name. “Your legacy is strong and good, Momma. What that crazy chick needs to know is just how strong I am. The harder she pulls back, the harder I’m gonna reel her in. Nice chat, Momma.”

  At home, I leave a note that I need her help at the bar tonight. I know Livi; she’ll come. I smirk and think, more than once.

  *.*.*.*

  Livi being standoffish should have made me question my feelings, but it didn’t, not after this morning’s chat. It fucking hurts in a different way, one that I haven’t felt before. A way much deeper than you feel when you disappoint a teacher, a boss, a sibling, or even a parent.