Need you Now (Top Shelf Romance Book 2)

by Laurelin Paige

  I’m hers.

  I curve my body around hers, protecting her from whatever real or imagined threats might be out there. “I never thought it could be like that,” I say.

  Maybe it makes me a coward, that I know she won’t remember this. She’s too lust dazed, already half in the dream world. She won’t remember my confession.

  The terrible truth that I didn’t know sex could feel good.

  For this one second, she sees how broken I am. A ribbon of worry darkens her hazy eyes, but then it’s gone. “Hold me.”

  It’s too much of a relief when I take her in my arms, when I pull her close. “You’re safe here,” I tell her, even though she probably isn’t worried. She probably doesn’t remember that her friend Liam called the police, and that they’ll be desperately looking for her. There’s probably a national manhunt happening right now. “You’re safe.”

  “Good,” she mumbles, nestling deeper into my chest. “I don’t want to think about that.”

  “About what?” I ask gently, expecting her to say Liam. To say her friends, her whole life.

  “About the Innkeeper,” she says, with a big yawn, her eyes closed.

  Then she falls asleep, leaving me cold and wide awake. The Innkeeper. Who the fuck is the Innkeeper? I have no clue, but it sounds an awful lot like the name Keeper.

  Does she know something about Keeper? Does she know who he is? She’s in that world. She’s in a position to hear things, too.

  She would tell me if she knew, wouldn’t she?

  I want to shake her awake, to demand answers. But I also want her to continue sleeping, to pretend that I’m as peaceful as I felt one minute ago.

  Before I doubted the woman I love.

  Chapter 21

  Brooke

  I wake up feeling strange, as if I’m totally comfortable here, in this place I barely recognize. As if I’ve become someone else in the span of two hours. My cells rearranging themselves into someone who belongs in this cabin, naked and warm. A dim light streams in from the next room, keeping the darkness at bay.

  There’s an ache between my thighs, a musk in the air. A thousand reminders of Stone, as if I could ever forget. But not the man himself. I remember his arms wrapped around me, and then…what? It’s all a haze in my mind.

  My muscles protest as I stretch across the coarse blanket. I don’t need to look around the small rooms to know I’m alone. The stillness in the air tells me that, but I check anyway, wrapping the blanket around me. I look into the small galley kitchen and the tiny bathroom. Empty.

  I open the door. The light from the windows illuminates the white pickup truck, still where Stone left it.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Had I thought he would leave me here? No. He wouldn’t do that. I may not remember exactly what happened after we had sex, but I remember the deep sense of peace I felt. Like I was finally safe after so many years of uncertainty. I think I was finally able to let go of my family’s expectations.

  Some sixth sense sends me around the side of the cabin, where a thin, moonlit trail separates the structure from thick brush. Twigs catch at the blanket, as if they want to pull me in. Or maybe they only want to pull the blanket. I tuck it tighter around myself.

  When I reach the back, I’m struck mute for a moment.

  No wonder he comes here. The cabin may be remote and modest, but God, this view. He can see the whole city from here. It stretches out in the shadow of the mountain, both large and somehow made small.

  His large silhouette breaks the spread of lights. He doesn’t turn or startle, even when I step on a twig with a crack. Because he knows I’m here. He probably sensed me getting up. He’s in tune with nature in a way I never realized someone who lives in the city could be. It makes me wonder about the safe house he lives in with the other guys. Is there something elemental about it?

  “Good morning,” I say softly, coming to stand a foot behind him. It’s two in the morning. Not really morning, I guess.

  “Morning,” he says, his voice almost menacing.

  It sends a lovely shiver down my spine. “I missed you beside me. Couldn’t you sleep?”

  “Hardly ever,” he says, which strikes me as both true and terribly sad.

  In the wordless moments that follow, I can hear crickets behind us and the hum of the city in front of us. We’re in between them. There must be thousands of people awake right now. Some coming from work after a late shift at a restaurant. Others waking up early to work in a bakery. The city doesn’t sleep; it’s like Stone that way.

  He turns, his eyes a glossy dark. “Are you cold?”

  It’s strange, this distant concern from him. Is this how he treats all his lovers? Does sex smooth some of his rough edges, make him more gentleman than criminal? “I’m okay.”

  “We should get back soon.”

  “Probably.” I hate thinking about how worried my mother would be. That’s what bothers me most. Not leaving Liam and my friends at prom. Not even my father. I don’t know what to believe about him. “I don’t want this to end.”

  A shadow passes over his face. “It’s already over.”

  There’s a hitch in my breath. In my heart. In the swell of hope that said somehow this could last. Of course he’s right, but it’s still hard to speak. So I don’t. I take a step closer, standing near enough to feel his body heat in the cool night.

  He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. I can feel his heartbeat; it becomes my own. This kind of intimacy, it’s almost deeper than when we had sex. Taking comfort. Giving it.

  “Who was she?” I ask softly. “The woman you loved?”

  Even after all this, I’m not jealous of her. Well, maybe a little bit. Mostly I want Stone to find peace in his life. I’m not sure he could find that with a secretly broke debutante, no matter how many times he takes me hostage. I don’t have what he needs, but maybe someone does.

  “It doesn’t matter now.”

  I pull back, a little shocked. “Love always matters.”

  “Does it?” he asks, gently mocking, tracking a finger down my cheek.

  “Yes. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that matters.”

  “I love someone who lied to me,” he says with a half-smile. “Someone who betrayed me. So what does that make me, little bird? Pretty fucking stupid, but it doesn’t make me stop loving her.”

  That explains why he’s not with her, then. He might love her until he dies, but he can’t be with someone who betrays him. Loyalty means everything to him.

  Even if I hadn’t seen that basement, I would know that about Stone. He’s like some kind of rock, to have survived that. An avalanche of strength and honor when it comes to protecting his crew. He seems like he’s made of something other than flesh, but I’ve touched him in his most private moment. I know the truth. “It makes you human,” I say softly.

  Chapter 22

  Stone

  She’s snuggled up on the truck seat next to me, head on my shoulder, wrapped in a blanket. The headlights illuminate trees and the dirt road and the occasional startled animal, there and then gone. Soon it will be dawn and she’ll be out of my car. Out of my life, because I can’t trust her. I don’t believe she would fuck with me this way, but I also can’t ignore what I heard.

  “You’re gonna put on that seatbelt once we get to the road,” I say.

  She wiggles closer. “If you want,” she whispers.

  I pull her tight to my side, because I’m weak. I’m stupid, like I told her, but that doesn’t stop me. I brought one of the blankets from the cottage to put around her. She said she wasn’t cold, but I like it around her, like her pressed so close to me. I worry about whether she’s cold or hungry. I worry about whether she wants any fucking thing that pops into her head. I’d hunt down a fucking tiger and bring it to her, if she wanted striped fur.

  Which means I need to get away from her. Need to get some perspective.

  That all has to end. We’ll be down the trail soon. Out in the world soo
n. In reality.

  I keep turning her words over and over in my mind. I don’t want to think about that. About the Innkeeper.

  I tell myself it could mean anything. She was half-asleep, after all. I think about pressing her on it, but I won’t. I can’t. Not as long as it could be meaningless. I need to get perspective, and that means returning to my roots. To my crew. They are my rock.

  She fell asleep after saying the words that changed everything.

  She slept hard and deep, the sleep of the innocent, curled up in my arms, unaware of the world spinning out of control. Unaware of my eyes on her lips, on her light brown eyelashes. Unaware of my attention on her every breath, or of my heart thundering in my chest.

  “Really, you can drop me anywhere.” Her words sound drowsy. “Some random gas station and I can call an Uber. You could drop me at Chelsea’s even.”

  “You think I’m not going to give you a proper ride home after prom?”

  She smiles at me, a little uncertain, a little sleepy. “I’m your girl?”

  “Yeah.” For better or for worse, and I’m thinking this might be the worst situation of all. I kiss the top of her head just as we stop at the end of the dirt trail, ready to head onto the two-lane highway heading back to Franklin City. I told her it was already over, but I don’t think this is the end. It should be, for her sake, but it’s not. “Buckle up, baby.”

  She shifts over and puts on her seatbelt.

  I check my phone. Just after four in the morning.

  “There’ll be cops there,” she protests. “Seriously.”

  I pull out onto the road. “It’s handled.”

  We go over what she’s going to say. I took her out of there. She was scared and went with me. We drove past Mooresville and out to Prairiefield. We stopped at the scenic overlook and talked. I asked her dumb stuff about her high school.

  We go over how nobody can make her say things she doesn’t want to say, or do things she doesn’t want to do.

  “Nobody can make you do anything. You’re in control,” I tell her.

  She smiles over at me, sweet in the dashboard light. “I’m in control.”

  I frown, wondering if she’s using that same logic on me, but then I put the thought aside. Nonsense mumbled by a sleeping girl. That’s what I tell myself.

  Fifteen minutes later I’m heading into the hilly section of Franklin City, all the mansions looming above the rest of the place.

  The truck whirs into high gear. We pass a white mansion with a gate around it. Another one that looks like a fucking fort. I pass a beat-up Jeep—wave to Cruz. He pulls out some distance after me.

  Grayson and Calder are already in place up near her house, ready for showtime. There are two unmarked cars out there. Calder’s going to drive all suspicious and lead them away on a chase. Calder is our best driver; he has nerves of steel. Grayson’ll ride shotgun—literally. He’ll shoot some shit if shooting needs to happen.

  I grab her and kiss her. I don’t have words.

  “When will I see you again?”

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  Police lights fire up ahead. Calder. I slow in front of her place.

  She jumps out. I watch her run up her fancy walk, lit like a fairy path by flowers and tiny lights. Watch her reach the huge, elaborately carved door to her mansion.

  I peel out just as a cop car pulls out from the darkness. I jam on the speed, take a few quick turns. I lose him with the help of Cruz, who was lying in wait, ready to play the bumbling driver, blocking any kind of pursuit if need be.

  Still, getting away clean is hard, considering they have my plates. I had the element of surprise because they didn’t expect me to drop her, so they weren’t really prepared. But it takes luck and help from my guys to get out of the area. I breathe a sigh of relief as I travel deeper into South Franklin City. Better still once I hit Gedney with its boarded-up buildings and ruined hotels, one of which is the Bradford.

  I do a quick check of the street and then head through the slit in the chain-link fence. I hit a code on my phone, and the graffiti-splashed slab of corrugated metal and boards opens—the ugliest, most unlikely garage door on the planet.

  Knox is down there, waiting in the dim garage, leaning on his Spyder, a car he never gets to drive unless he’s heading out of the city.

  “What the fuck?” he says before I even shut the door. “We did that whole getaway operation so you could drop a date at her front door?”

  I stalk past him, into the stairwell.

  He follows. “When you said make a drop, we thought it was something legit.”

  I keep going. “It was legit to me.”

  We head through the ruined lobby and into our actual living quarters.

  Grayson and Cruz are on the corner couch playing video games. Calder is sitting at the table, thinking. Or maybe not thinking. That’s Calder for you.

  I go over to the wall of built-in cabinets and shelving. I grab a glass and set it on the long bar, scratched from years of use. I pull down a bottle of scotch and pour.

  Knox stands on the other side of the bar, watching me. “It’s morning.”

  I down the first one and pour another. “Not for me.”

  “So you gonna tell us who that was?”

  “A girl,” I say, even though that doesn’t begin to describe her.

  Knox grabs a glass and shoves it over to me. I pour. He drinks the next one with me.

  “A girl?”

  I give him a hard stare. That’s not really what he’s asking. He’s wondering whether she went with me willingly. Probably heard the scanners. “It’s not like that. She’s…” I look him in the eyes. “My girl.”

  “Fuck, what was that?” Grayson’s in my face. “Did you just say your girl?”

  I give him a hard look.

  “You gave me how much shit for Abby?” Grayson continues. “For wanting to be with her? You fucking split us apart with your bullshit, making her think I didn’t give a shit. You acted like I was betraying the group by wanting a relationship, and now it just doesn’t apply to you?”

  “Man has a point,” Knox says.

  “Look, we had a rule that you broke,” I say. “But Abby came along and proved herself. She showed what she was made of.”

  “And she went on to make that turret into a pink fucking princess room,” Cruz jokes.

  Grayson isn’t laughing.

  “So maybe the rule’s fucked,” I say.

  “Oh. Maybe it’s fucked,” Grayson growls.

  I take another drink. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  Ryland wanders in. We’re all here, even Nate. Nate doesn’t usually come to the Bradford, but it’s our ten-year anniversary from killing one of the guys who tormented us. We mark every goddamn death, because they’re important. Not because we feel sorry for those fuckers, but because it’s proof that we’re still alive.

  They’re all staring at me.

  “You have Abby,” I say to Grayson, “and you’re still upholding the vow—one blade to protect my brothers, one blade for vengeance. A man can do both. You proved it.”

  “So you’re changing your mind?” Knox says.

  I look around, because the five of them, they need me to be a stand-up kind of guy. “I’d be a pretty shitty leader if I made all my decisions when I was fifteen fucking years old and never updated them.”

  Fifteen was how old I was when I led them out of that basement. When we made the vow.

  “Back then, yeah, we needed to be all about us. Survival. But, Grayson, you’re still here. You’d lay down your life for your brothers. Even with that girl up there, you’d lay down your life.”

  “Fuck yeah,” he grunts.

  I stare into my glass. Given a choice, I’m not so sure Grayson would put us over Abby. But I don’t go there. No reason.

  “Only an asshole refuses to let his mind be changed by new information,” I say.

  “So full of shit, my man,” Calder says calmly. “The new information isn’t Gra
yson and Abby. It’s the girl. The girl changed your mind.”

  “I didn’t say Grayson changed my mind. I said Grayson shows it can work. That you can meet somebody…meet a woman who is…” I stop, unsure how to describe Brooke.

  Cruz laughs. “Fuck!”

  “What?” I demand.

  “You are whipped on this bitch,” Cruz says.

  My growl is low and loud. “Wouldn’t call her a bitch if I was you.”

  I catch Grayson’s eyes. My guys are looking at me like I’m an alien, suddenly, but Grayson gets it. He nods.

  “It won’t go anywhere, but I wanted to drop her right. That’s all,” I say.

  “Won’t go anywhere?” Grayson asks.

  “Can’t,” I say. “Speaking of which, where are we with Keeper?”

  “Still nothing,” Knox says.

  Calder sighs. “I have listened to a hundred hours of phone calls, and it’s shit. I got a few where they mention him, but nothing we can use.”

  “Abby’s helping us with the Franklin City archives,” Knox says, looking at Grayson. “We’ve been finding handwritten notes on some of the margins of property transactions. We’re hoping to find Keeper mentioned. We’ll be back at that today.”

  I nod. Then, as casual as I can, I ask, “Did any of you ever hear of Keeper referred to by the name Innkeeper?”

  “Pretty sure. Yeah,” Calder says with a shrug, not realizing the seismic effect of his words on me. “A few of the phone calls reference Innkeeper, and I assume it’s Keeper.” My heart pounds as he continues, “Not like they sit there saying, ‘Innkeeper—Keeper for short.’ But it’s pretty clear in context. Why?”

  I turn my glass counterclockwise.

  She fucking knows.

  She knows who Keeper is. Something twists deep in my belly. It hurts because she knows what they did to us—men like Keeper. Keeper’s at the fucking center of it. Doesn’t she give a shit? Have I been an idiot all this time? Love puts a guy’s head up his ass. Is that happening to me? No way, I think. No fucking way.

  “Why?” Calder asks again.

  “Possible lead,” I say.