The Only Thing

by Marie Harte

  Thinking it to death wasn’t helping, so he told himself to sac up and do his job.

  “Yo, J.T. Note stuck on your car for you.” Vargas handed him a folded note, then went back to his station to work.

  J.T. opened it, curious who might have left him a note instead of coming inside to talk to him. The note had been typed on fancy white paper.

  Meet me at Ray’s at nine. Don’t be late. Don’t call—this is your only invitation. I’ll be toward the back by the tree, where it’s PRIVATE. I’ll be wearing my black heels…and nothing else. Hope.

  So she wanted to be kinky? Some lovin’ out in public? He was game. She’d loved the paddle, as he’d anticipated. Hope had been a naughty girl.

  He felt himself smiling and groaned. So gone over this girl. What to do?

  Meeting her at Ray’s sounded like a good place to start.

  Suke appeared. “J.T., Melissa is here.”

  He sighed. “Send her back.”

  * * *

  At nine o’clock on the dot, J.T. stood by the tree in the back of the lot. Ray’s wouldn’t be too crowded on a Monday. So she’d picked a good day to try this. The large tree that stood by itself at the end of the gravel parking lot was thick enough to hide a pair of lovers using it as leverage. And the overhead lamplight from the property adjacent to Ray’s didn’t filter through the leaves, giving them plenty of shadow to work with.

  He looked around, suspicious that Hope had yet to show. Where could she be hiding?

  He heard the snap of a stick on the ground and turned just as the blow to his side took him to his knees and had him sucking wind.

  “Fucker. Here’s a message for you. Stay away from Hope.”

  Before he could get hit a second time, J.T. scooted away and turned to see a stranger coming at him. No, two strangers. He hurried to stand. The one who’d punched him was carrying a bat. Before he could get hit again, J.T. feinted a step at the unarmed one before knocking into the bat guy. He grabbed the bat and tossed it far away, striking someone’s car.

  He felt another punch, this one to his back but below his kidney, fortunately.

  Angry and needing to hurt someone, J.T. put Bat Guy down without too much issue. But the one behind him had found time to grab a big, fucking rock.

  “Asshole, drop it before I drop you.” J.T. wanted to hurt him. Badly. “So you think you can have Hope, is that it?”

  “I don’t know the bitch. I was paid to pass on a message.” He grinned. “Actually, all three of us were.”

  Three…?

  The next tackle took J.T. off his feet into a face-plant that would have made his father proud. A brief spate of sports in high school had shown he had a proclivity for athletics. Of course, back then J.T. had been the one doing the tackling.

  He could still take a hit, though. He elbowed the load on top of him and heard a grunt, then rolled them over in time to see that rock land where his head used to be. Unfortunately, the load, who had to weigh nearly half again as much as J.T., was a big fucker, and strong. He rolled them back so that he straddled J.T., gaining leverage.

  “Shit, man. He said to hurt him, not kill him,” the load said to his buddy as he punched J.T. in the mouth. J.T. blocked the next hit but took the third on the cheek. Pain blossomed on the left side of his face while he fought to focus his next punch.

  “There’s a bonus if he’s hurt bad but still breathing.”

  “Seriously? Oh, I… Oof.” The load went down, J.T.’s fist to his nuts a definite grounder.

  Before the guy with a rock could bring it down on J.T.’s face, Heller was there. He took one look at J.T. on the ground, Bat Guy unconscious, and the other two assholes, and smiled.

  His scary, I-am-your-personal-hell-on-earth smile.

  He hit Rock Guy once and dropped him like a bag of dirt. Load stood, shaking off his groin shot. Being a decent bruiser, Heller waited for the guy to strike first.

  He did, and Heller beat the shit out of him, only stopping when the guy pleaded for mercy. Bat Guy, now waking and woozy from J.T.’s punch, saw Heller and ran.

  Doing his best to breathe shallowly—because, hell if he didn’t worry he’d maybe cracked a rib—J.T. just lay there.

  Heller crouched, frowning down at him. “You good?”

  “Oh sure. Just enjoying the sight of this beautiful tree.”

  Heller laughed. “It is a nice tree. Ah, J.T. You always make me smile. Thanks for this.”

  “Yeah, because I planned to get sucker punched so I could get you in on a fight.”

  Heller helped him to his feet, then half carried him to the bar while J.T. told him about the note he’d received. “But not one word about this to anyone, okay? I need to figure this out.”

  “Sure.” Heller wouldn’t say a word. Not like he talked all that much as it was.

  The bouncers took one look at J.T. and demanded to know what had happened, because Earl and Big J. were like that, friends of his who didn’t play when it came to policing Ray’s. Heller explained because J.T. knew if he opened his mouth, he’d moan.

  Big J. took off to grab the guys.

  No one mentioned calling the police, because folks at Ray’s handled their own business. J.T. agreed. Well, he normally would have. But he knew Hope hadn’t set him up to be hurt. He had a bad feeling her secret admirer had, and escalating to violence took the guy’s creepiness to a new, scary playing field.

  He coughed and moaned. “Shit. Earl, see if you can find out who hired the guys.”

  “I’ll watch the bar while you go,” Heller offered, still holding J.T. up as if he weighed nothing.

  Earl nodded and went after Big J.

  “Let’s get you settled.” Heller dragged J.T. to a nearby table, while the few patrons inside muttered to themselves.

  Just his dumb luck that his cousin happened to be working tonight.

  “Oh no. J.T., what happened?” Rena rushed over to them, took one look at his face, and left. Only to return with a first aid kit, some ice, and a cloth. “Put this on his face,” she ordered Heller, who did as he was told without question.

  While they worked, Heller told her all he knew. J.T. added a little, but nothing about the note he’d received until he talked to Hope about it.

  After getting his face wiped down, his cheek iced, and his ribs prodded by Heller, J.T. felt ready to fight again. “I said I’m fine.”

  “Nein. They may be broken. I think a doctor would be good.” Heller’s accent deepened, his worry clear.

  “What the heck?” Rena glared at J.T.—her favorite cousin.

  “What did I do?”

  “That’s my question. Why would someone just attack you like that?”

  “The world is full of asshats. I don’t know for sure. But maybe Earl or Big J. will get something out of them.”

  Earl walked over, shaking his head. “Big J. said one of them took off. The other was just coming around when we talked to him. He said someone hired him over the phone. Gave him a grand to break your face. An extra five hundred if it hurt a lot.”

  “Nice of him.” J.T. winced when Rena cooed over him, putting that damn ice over his cheek again.

  “Dropped off the cash in an agreed-upon spot. He didn’t see the guy, but he told me that one of the ones who rabbited did. Guy’s name is Paulie.”

  “I know him.” Heller nodded. “I’ll find out.” He stood.

  Rena stood with him, finally leaving that damn ice alone.

  “Be careful.” She grabbed Heller by the hand and squeezed. “You hear me? Don’t get hurt.”

  Heller’s soft smile made J.T. want to groan. Didn’t the man know better than to show such weakness around his cousin? She already had the guy wrapped around her little finger. She didn’t need to know it.

  He glanced at Earl and saw the guy straight-up grinning at the pair
. “J.T., want to talk to him?” In other words, want to beat his ass?

  “Nah. I think Heller did enough damage.”

  Earl grunted. “Yeah. Big J. said the two guys looked like they’d been clobbered by a hammer. Didn’t see the third one.”

  “He ran after watching Heller work.”

  “Smart guy.”

  Rena must have realized she had a hold on Heller, because she flushed and quickly released him. Turning to J.T., she shook her head. “You’re a mess.”

  “You know, I think Heller’s right. I should see a doctor. Heller, can you take me?”

  “Ja. Come.” He lifted J.T. to his feet and, when J.T. hissed, moved to carry him.

  “Stop. I will not be carried out of Ray’s, for God’s sake. Just gimme some space.” He took a shallow breath and walked slowly toward the door.

  “I’m telling Uncle Liam, so you’d better not be lying about the doctor,” Rena called after him.

  “Shit.”

  Next to him, Heller chuckled. “That Rena, she’s such a smart one. And so pretty.” The big guy sighed.

  “Sucker.”

  Heller didn’t argue.

  With Heller’s help, J.T. made it back to his car. “How’d you know to come back here? It’s well away from the rest of the cars.”

  “I saw something not right. So I thought I’d investigate. You’re welcome.”

  “Danke.” J.T. grinned, and winced. “Teeth are okay. But my lip is split.”

  “So no kissing for a while, hmm?” Heller sure picked a fine night to have a sense of humor. “Do you need me to take you to the doctor? Or did you say that to get your cousin to stop hovering?”

  “The second thing you said.” J.T. painfully lowered himself into his car, swearing up a storm. “At least they left my hands alone. I might have a bruise or two, but nothing to impede movement.” He flexed his fingers and hands, relieved. Since he was used to hitting a bag at the gym, his hands didn’t feel strained from punching.

  “Yes, but sitting might be painful. Then how will you work?”

  “Damn it.” He really would need to take a trip to the hospital. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

  “Be well. And remember that favor when I come courting your cousin.”

  Courting? What century was Heller living in? J.T. snorted. “Yeah? When’s that going to be? You’ve been humming around her for months.”

  Heller flipped him off, making J.T. laugh again. Which in turn made him groan.

  Heller smirked, said something in German, then swaggered away.

  The trip to the hospital took a while, because J.T. took his time getting out of the car and walking. The aches had settled in, and he wasn’t pleased. What a waste. He could have been spending time with Hope.

  No. That’s the problem. I need to just relax and get back into my usual routine—and stop focusing on one particular blond.

  If only he could.

  Once he’d signed in, it didn’t take him long to be seen. Though the X-ray and results took a while. A few different nurses came in to check on him, and he did his requisite flirting, but his heart wasn’t in it. He took the two phone numbers he’d been given and threw them away when the nurses left.

  J.T. groaned. So many pretty women. Even the doctor was attractive. But he didn’t care. He only wanted Hope.

  “Are you in pain?” the doctor asked, hearing him groan.

  “Yeah, from stupidity.” He blew out a breath. “It hurts to breathe when I move, and when I don’t move, but it’s manageable.” He didn’t do drugs. Didn’t want any.

  She looked at the X-rays, then studied his face. “You’re going to have swelling, obviously. But nothing too major on your face. You have two fractured ribs, however. And your intercostal muscles are bound to be bruised, causing pain. I imagine when you say it’s a ‘manageable’ pain, you’re gritting your teeth and trying to act tough. But it hurts like a bitch.”

  He bit back a grin, not wanting to pull at the cut on his lip.

  She sighed. “As I thought. On a scale of one to ten, what are you right now?”

  “A seven.”

  “And that’s after the medicine we’ve already given you. You’re only going to be sorer tomorrow.”

  He thought about it, knew he had some tattoos scheduled, and accepted the prescription for Tylenol 3, which would give him some codeine, but not too much. “Okay.”

  “You get one refill, and then we’ll see you back for an evaluation, okay?”

  “Sure.” He’d be fine with what they gave him now. “How long to heal?”

  “Everyone’s different, but I’d guess, with your physical health prior to the incident and the extent of your injuries, anywhere from three to five weeks.”

  “Great. Thanks, Doc.” He wanted to sit up but didn’t want to sound weak when he did. “Ah, could you give me a hand?”

  “No. I don’t want you moving, Mr. Webster. You sit there and wait for the nurses to come back.” She stood and shook her head. “I’ve got two of them asking after you as it is. You’re a pretty popular guy.”

  “It’s the smile. The ladies love a split lip.”

  “I see.” She shook her head and laughed as she left.

  It took another hour for him to get discharged. He felt tired and hurt, and it took forever to walk to his car. Once there, he just stared at the low seat. “Crap.”

  His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he saw he had several missed calls. He answered the one ringing—Hope. “Hello?”

  “Rena called me. Oh my gosh. Are you okay? Are you at the hospital? Where are you? I’ll be right there.”

  He chuckled and wished he hadn’t. “I’m leaving. But I’m not great company. Can I see you tomorrow?”

  “No. You come over here right now. You’re staying with me until you heal. Take your time, but I swear, if you go home, I will hit you right where they did.” She disconnected.

  Huh.

  So J.T. found himself driving to Hope’s apartment building. He parked in a visitor spot in the garage, cautious because if he’d been attacked once, he could be attacked again if the stalker knew where she lived.

  But he saw no movement, and the lighting made it easy enough to spot a potential threat. He carried a heavy flashlight with him toward the building, enough to protect himself, should he have need.

  He used the lame elevator instead of the stairs, and once at her door, it took him one knock before Hope whipped it open. She took one look at his face and burst into tears.

  “Hope.”

  “I’ve been so worried.” She gently tugged him inside, locked the door behind him, then pulled him in for the lightest hug they’d ever shared. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. Oh, J.T.”

  He frowned. “How is this your fault? I got jumped by some assholes. It happens.”

  She moved back, anger replacing her worry. “So you’re telling me the guys who did this didn’t have anything to do with me and my secret admirer?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  She just stared at him.

  “What?”

  “I’m blond, not stupid.” Not a great time for a blond joke, then. “I know this has something to do with me. Rena knows too. Heller told her.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Well?”

  Ah, what the hell? He could use her tender care. “So maybe your guy hired some muscle to make me go away. Not permanently, just hurt enough that I’d leave you alone.”

  “I knew it.” She glared at him and wiped her eyes. And he realized she was wearing a pair of boy shorts and a tank top with no bra. And him too tired to do anything about it. What a crying shame—because he literally felt like crying the longer he looked at those shorts.

  “Can you take care of me for a day or two, until I get used to being sore?”


  “Yes. In fact, I was going to demand you stay here. So that works for me.”

  She led him back to her bedroom, where she stripped him down and sighed over every little bruise on him. He wasn’t too stubborn to admit he liked her fussing over him. Liked it a lot.

  Hope planted tiny kisses on the cuts on his face, and the butterfly-light pressure did nothing but relax him. The affection in those kisses made him feel ten times better. He started to drift off and fought sleep.

  “No, sweetie. You rest your eyes. I’ll make sure your work gets handled. Is Suke’s number in your phone?”

  He felt her stroking his head, and the touch was sublime—a word he’d only heard used on some BBC baking show, which Sophie and Liam had forced him to watch once. “Suke’s number is in the phone under S,” he slurred.

  “Okay. I got it.” A soft hand stroked his scalp and cupped his uninjured cheek. He felt the press of another kiss and let himself go. Hope was there. Everything would be just fine.

  Chapter 18

  Early Wednesday evening, Hope glared at her patient, amazed at how bad he was at being taken care of. Tuesday had gone smoothly. He hadn’t minded her calling Suke to cancel the day’s appointments, because he’d found it hard to sit upright and breathe without wincing. He continued to take his medication, though she’d had to prod him the last time. Nice to know J.T. didn’t like drugs.

  His father, sister, cousin, and the guys from work had come to see him. And he’d acted fine, shrugging off their concern, smiling. But as soon as they’d left, he’d showed her his pain. The poor guy. Then he’d spent a lot of time sleeping, and she’d gone and reaffirmed to Suke to cancel his appointments until Friday. J.T. could say what he wanted, but he didn’t look well at all.

  She felt so bad for him. Earlier today she’d taken off at lunch. Since Cam knew why she’d wanted to be home, he’d given her Thursday off as well. At the moment, she thought she might need it.

  To hide the body.

  “Take a pill.”

  He scowled. “No. I’m good.”