Crush

by J. C. Emery

  When I wake, all I can think about is being married and what that means. I’m getting married, and I don’t even know how it works or what to do. The sudden panic that overtakes me is almost painful, but I try to smile through it and grit my teeth as Chey slowly comes to life. I want to do this—for her, for me—but for some reason I feel like I’m about to shit my pants. Thank fucking God Duke and I got shit to do today.

  CHAPTER 22

  April

  12 months to Mancuso’s downfall

  Cheyenne holds my cut in her hands, clutching it furiously against her chest as she glares at me. Her eyes scan my appearance, appraising the plain black hoodie I’m wearing and the dirty, gray ball cap that rests on my head, covering my dark brown hair. In all this black and plain shit, the only thing that really looks like me are my eyes. They’re still that same dark blue that gets chicks wet even from a distance. But the thing that defines me most is in my girl’s hands.

  I can’t wear my cut into that hospital, and it pisses me off.

  “But you wear it everywhere,” Chey says with a ruffled brow. I can’t tell her why—it’s an order—but she’s not making it very fucking easy to keep my mouth shut. I just want to get in, get out, and get back here for a fucking nap.

  “I just can’t, okay?” I snap. Because, shit, I already want to wear my cut and can’t, and now she’s giving me the riot act over it. Cheyenne’s green eyes bore into mine, making me feel like shit. I don’t like not telling her shit, but Duke said not to. Nic knows what we’re doing, but not because he wanted to tell her. She has a pushy fucking temperament and outright asked him when Forsaken was going to finish the job on Darren one too many times, and the dude cracked. With any other chick, I’d say he was pussy whipped, but I know my sister, and it’s a fucking miracle he held out as long as he did.

  “I want to tell you things, okay, baby? I want you to know what’s going on and the shit we get into, but I can’t. I have orders.” I let the words fall between us and allow the tension in the room to rise. Something about this is upsetting to Chey in a way I didn’t expect. She’s always been Forsaken, and that means she knows when to go along with the program, but she’s not doing it right now. “Why are you this upset over my cut?”

  “Last time Dad left the house on a job and he didn’t wear his cut, he got locked up for thirteen months and seventeen days,” she says firmly.

  My shoulders fall, and I cross the room, immediately wrapping her in my arms. She’s still clutching my cut to her chest, both limbs and leather squished between us as I hold on to her like my life depends on it.

  “I sound crazy,” she admits. And yeah, she does, but fuck if I don’t like it. She’s worried about me, and she doesn’t want me to get hurt or to get locked up. For that, I’ll take crazy.

  “I’m coming back to you tonight,” I say and place a kiss to her forehead. Reluctantly, I release her and take a step back. She gives me a nod and a fake smile. It’s not confident enough for me to believe it, but it’s going to have to be enough for now.

  When I turn to leave, Nic is waiting in the doorway with Robin in her carrier. She and I have never been especially affectionate, but something’s changed since she gave birth. Before, she was always so tough and mean and bitchy. But now she’s someone’s mother. She fusses over my niece the way I hope our mother cared for us when we were infants. I can’t imagine Nic leaving her kid, though. Not with the way she watches her sleep and checks on her breathing. Seeing this side of my sister makes me want to be better to her and for her. I didn’t expect to feel any different about the whole baby thing after she was born, but I do. Robin is this tiny little human, and she can’t do a damn thing for herself. It’s up to us—all of us—to be good to her. I want to be good for her, just not with any more fucking diapers.

  As I pass, Nic reaches out and places her hand on my covered bicep and says, “Let’s go.” The ferocity in her eyes is surprising, and I choose not to argue.

  Robin and her carrier are kind of heavy, so I don’t know how she balances it without any issue, but she does. My sister has taken every bit of her anger and protective nature and channeled it into being the mother I wish I had. Her conviction takes hold of me in a vice grip of emotion, but all I can do is nod. Everything that led up to Darren’s hospital stay floods my mind. He threatened to beat the baby out of Nic that night. So cold and calculating in his abuse, Darren had wanted to make not just Nic suffer, but her baby as well. And because of him, Mindy and Holly suffered, too.

  I zoom down the hall and through the living room to the front door where Duke is standing with the front door wide open. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his expression flat, and he’s fiddling with his phone. Without looking up, he says, “When I say to be ready at noon, I fucking mean twelve o’clock, not ten after.”

  “Sorry,” I mumble and slip past him out the door, trying to get away from the blowup Nic’s about to cause by tagging along. Meeting up with me, Duke shoves his elbow into my side. He looks up from his phone for a moment, digs into his jean pocket, and tosses the keys to the black van at me. I catch them easily and walk to the street where the club’s van is parked. The same van he and I used to dump Darren in his daddy dearest’s driveway.

  “Quit apologizing. You sound like a fucking pussy,” he says. I climb into the driver’s seat of the van and start her up just as Duke climbs into the passenger side.

  “Okay.” If Duke wants me to stop apologizing, then I will stop fucking apologizing. I wish I could stop screwing up, but that’s unlikely.

  Nic approaches the van and gives Duke a huge grin as she catches his eye. Just when I think Duke’s going to fucking lose it because she’s taking their newborn on a job, he smiles at her and reaches back to open the door for her.

  “Least you could do, asshole,” Nic says, and she climbs in and settles Robin’s carrier into its base in the seat directly behind mine. If I had noticed the base of the car seat was already in here, maybe I wouldn’t have been about to piss myself at the fight I was sure would ensue.

  “You’re cool with this shit?” I ask Duke.

  He shrugs his shoulders. “Let’s just call it ‘Take Your Daughter to Work Day.’ ”

  “Chill, Jer,” Nic says, buckling up and shutting the door. “You two need a reason to be at the hospital.”

  The drive to the hospital is quiet, so quiet in fact that it starts to get tense inside the van. I hate when any of the brothers are this silent, because it means they’re thinking about shit—likely shit I’ve done wrong—and that usually leads to bitch duty. I fucking hate bitch duty, mostly because I usually end up on bitch duty with my sister. And if there is one woman on this planet who doesn’t like to be watched over, it’s her.

  Upon our arrival, I swing around to the maternity ward and park in the underground garage. Last week when Nic delivered Robin, we scoped out the best point of entry and found the fewest number of cameras between here and Darren’s room. Nic dislodges Robin’s carrier from the base and climbs out of the van with her in tow. Duke and I hop out and meet her on the passenger side.

  Duke eyes me and says, “Nic’s going to cause a distraction while you and I pop into Jennings’s room and take care of business.”

  “Mercer’s got a uniform on Jennings’s room.” I’ve gone over this again and again in my head and don’t know how the fuck we’re going to work this out. “Not to mention hospital security.”

  “You’re so fucking new,” Nic says with a snicker.

  Duke smirks at his girl and takes the carrier from her hands. He peers down at Robin and makes a funny face for her. “Your butt buddy is taking care of security. Gonzales is on Jennings, and she’ll leave to take care of Nic.”

  “Would you fucking quit with that shit? Trigger’s got a hard-on for my ass, and the last fucking thing I need is you reminding me of that shit.”

  “Relax, Jer. I don’t think he really wants to fuck your ass,” Nic says.

  Duke purses his lips and looks
down at Nic. “Do not get yourself arrested.”

  She smiles.

  “I mean it, babe. That’s a fucking order. Distract them—that’s all.”

  Nic takes Robin back and heads for the hospital while mumbling something about ignoring Duke when he gets bossy. The sappy fuck just smiles at her as she walks away bitching. Fuck, I hope I don’t look like that.

  Nic beelines for the nurse’s station in the maternity ward, raising her voice as she gets closer to the large wraparound desk. She’s screeching about fevers and poisonous diapers and something about toxic formula. She even sounds like she’s crying. Christ, she’s a fucking psychopath if she can turn that shit on that quick.

  Duke and I dart down a hallway in the opposite direction and through two sets of heavy double doors that signal our exit and entrance into different departments. The hall is lined with Critical Care patient rooms. Right next to a life support station that houses a defibrillation machine and a few locked boxes of shit I’d love to get my hands on is a closed and unmarked door. I stride up to it and push it open, revealing a set of narrow stairs that Duke and I dart up as quickly as we can. By the time we reach the third floor where Darren’s room is, I’m huffing and puffing and ready to pass the hell out. But Duke? No, that motherfucker takes a deep breath and smiles at me.

  “Your sister gives me a fucking workout every goddamn night,” he says.

  As gross as it is, I know that’s not true right now. “Liar. I read that book. You got another five weeks before you can bust a nut.” I shove my way out into the hallway, desperate to get away from this conversation. I didn’t want to read that book—swear to Christ I didn’t—but Nic made me. And fuck babies. Fuck riding a chick bare. Fuck it all. A bitch’s asshole should only get torn because she’s getting pounded too hard, not because a leechy human is escaping her vagina.

  Fuck.

  No.

  At the end of the hall is Detective Angel Gonzales. When she spots us, she nods her head and leaves her post for the small desk that passes for a nurse’s station in this two-bit hospital. Informing the nurse of an issue downstairs, Gonzales asks for backup in figuring out what’s going on. The nurse is angled away from us, facing a filing cabinet behind the desk. She huffs and explains that she’s not to leave her post. I slip behind a thick square pillar near Jennings’s room and make room for Duke. He and I each pull out a pair of black gloves and slip them on.

  No fingerprints.

  The doors to the rooms beep, so we have to wait it out until Gonzales gets rid of the nurse. It takes longer than it should before Gonzales gets her out of here and they disappear into the elevator.

  Duke shoots out from behind the pillar and into Jennings’s room. The door beeps on entrance, and I grab ahold of the handle to slip in behind him. Jennings is lying in the bed in the center of the private room. He’s looking pretty good for a guy who got fucked by a flathead less than a year ago. I expected a breathing tube and maybe a million wires and machines surrounding him. But that’s not the case. He’s not hooked up to an IV, and he doesn’t even have a heart monitor attached to him. The most I can see is a small red button attached to a cord sitting on the side of the mattress.

  His brown hair is slicked back and wet, his skin is paler than I remember, and his brown eyes appear lethargic despite how wide they’ve become. Slowly, he blinks. His finger moves toward the red button, but he’s not quick enough. He must be medicated. I dart toward the bed and grab his icy hand. He trembles under my touch, egging me on to grip him tighter.

  “Remember me?” I ask with more cheer in my voice than I feel. Being around him makes me tense as fuck and ready to end him. In theory at least. I’ve never hurt anyone outside of the heat of the moment before. And I’ve definitely never taken another person’s life. Grady tried to tell me once that taking a life will fuck you up, but I didn’t believe him until I was witness to one of Holly’s panic attacks. Crazy chick beat a dude’s face in with a brick, and it took her weeks to come to terms with that. If she’s that fucked up over the one, I don’t know how the brothers deal with the shit they do.

  What we do is important. We protect our town. We protect our own. We keep order when the cops can’t or won’t. But that doesn’t mean that what I’m about to do isn’t fucking me up.

  I move the red button to the table beside his bed and let go of his hand. As predicted, he reaches for the button again, fast at least this time, but doesn’t make it. Instead of moving the button out of his reach, I wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze as hard as I can.

  “Release him,” Duke says firmly, still standing near the door. He hasn’t done shit since we got in here. Reluctantly, I let go and watch as Darren struggles to suck in pathetic breath after pathetic breath. His eyes are bugged out as he strains to move up the bed. Cringing, he claws his way into a sitting position.

  “You’ve been awake for a while now, and there’s no telling the shit you’ve been telling people,” Duke says.

  Darren gasps and says, “No, no. I haven’t said anything to anybody.”

  “You believe him?” I ask.

  Duke grins and pulls a flathead screwdriver out of his pocket. “Not a word. Good thing I’m not here to talk.”

  “Please,” Darren begs. Tears stream down his face as Duke pops the flathead into the air and catches it. Unable to help myself, I reach down and slap him across the face.

  “Act like a bitch and I’ll treat you like one,” I hiss.

  Duke whistles, catching my attention, and tosses the flathead to me. I catch it easily and hold it by the handle, pointing the tip at Darren’s mouth. His breathing comes more ragged and strained now. He’s not saying a word, but his eyes beg for relief.

  “Lick it,” I bite out. Panic seizes him, forcing strangled cries from his lungs. Fucking asshole can’t ever do what he’s told. Wrapping my fingers around his neck again, I squeeze and lean in, smiling wide. “Lick it and act like it’s my dick, asshole.”

  I pull back and watch as his tongue slowly peeks out and touches the metal of the tip of the screwdriver. Lightening up on my grip around his throat, I watch the depravity I’m forcing on him. My stomach rolls as the sight, and for half a second I have to close my eyes. Killing him might be easier than torturing him like this. It’s not that I don’t think he deserves whatever comes to him. It's just that the idea of hurting someone is different than actually hurting them. The club has a debt to settle with Larry Jennings, and in typical Forsaken fashion, we’re going through the person who matters to him most to do it.

  “Got a problem, Baby Boy?” Duke asks from the foot of the bed. He’s got Darren’s hospital chart in his hands and is studying it.

  “Just hit me, ya know? Darren hurts Nic, we hurt Darren. Larry hurts Mindy, we hurt Larry.”

  Duke nods and sets the chart back in its slot. He walks up the other side of the bed and places a hand on Darren’s chest. Darren’s eyes bug out as he stares nervously at Duke’s hand, his mouth still working the flathead like a pro.

  “Nic won’t tell me much about what happened, and you were too young to see it all very clearly, but this guy? I’m sure he remembers it all. I’ll bet he remembers waiting until Butch got busted to take Nic’s virginity. I’ll bet he remembers telling her the only man who will ever love her now is him.”

  Every ounce of guilt and fear that I’m feeling slowly disappears, and in its place is a numbness. It makes me want to barf, but I feel my conscience dying every second that Duke speaks. It’s like my body’s gone on autopilot as I slowly slide the flathead farther into Darren’s mouth.

  “Did she ever tell you that this prick told her he was going to kill my baby? She ever tell you that my baby being inside her made him sick, sick enough to brutalize her until my fucking kid was dead?”

  My muscles tense as the flathead darts into his mouth quickly, hitting what I think is his tongue. Duke’s iron fist reaches out and pulls me back. Darren coughs and lunges forward as the flathead leaves his mouth.
The blade and shank are covered in blood. Unlike before, the reality of what I’ve done doesn’t seem to creep up on me as I watch him choke on his own blood. He leans to Duke’s side, spitting it out all over his bed. Duke lifts the bed sheet to cover himself from the blood splatter and says, “We’re not ready to kill him yet.”

  “Right.” I tuck the screwdriver into my pocket.

  “It’s in your best interest to get your bitch daddy and cunt mommy back in town. Either they come home for your release from the hospital or for your funeral. It’s your choice. You have two weeks,” Duke says and swiftly throws his clenched fist into Darren’s face before he walks away. Darren folds in on himself, blood streams now from his nose as well as he cries into his hands.

  Grabbing ahold of his hair, I hiss into his ear, “I don’t have to tell you that telling anyone about this visit is a bad idea, do I?”

  Darren shakes and sobs simultaneously as I pull the syringe from the pocket of my hoodie and pop off the cap. Ryan suggested a sweet coke/meth powder combo, but that just seemed like too much work. Taking a deep breath, I grab his arm and position him as best I can to make it look like he’s injected himself in his stomach. I don’t give a fuck if the stomach is a place people shoot up—I wouldn’t fucking know—but his arm is stiff and uncooperative.

  “Save a place for me in Hell,” I murmur as I plunge the concoction into his body. He shakes mercilessly, cries booming from his throat, and stares down at the needle in his stomach with wide, fearful eyes.

  I take a step back and reach over, handing him the red button to make sure he doesn’t end up dying just yet. His fingers struggle to push the plastic piece down, but he finally makes it, and I bolt out of there before I have to stare at what I’ve done any longer.

  Duke’s just outside the door, and together we race to the same stairwell we just came from and down to the second floor where the cafeteria is. A few minutes after sitting down with a pair of nasty hospital burgers, Nic comes in, escorted by a frazzled nurse. My sister has the good sense to look sheepish as she sets Robin in a chair between her and Duke.