The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7)

by Linda Kage

  How the hell had he known I loved little gifts? The man must’ve talked to my roommate. Swooping up the box, I closed the door and hurried back down into the apartment. Once I was seated on the end of his bed, I ripped open the brown wrapping.

  The box of chocolates made me laugh. No idea why. It was such a suitor-ly thing to do, something a guy wooing his lady would do, which was probably exactly what he was doing. But damn, he already had me. There was no need for him to be this sweet.

  But I’m glad he was, because chocolate sounded really good right about now. Popping the first truffle into my mouth and moaning when my teeth sank through the outer layer and into some thick gooey…mmm, caramel, I moaned aloud.

  I downed three before I began to wonder where Asher was. Odd that he’d left me a present and then…not showed up to receive his thank you, which ooh, reminded me. I should thank him…sexily.

  If only we were at my place, I could dig into the bottom of my undie drawer and find some of that lingerie I bought because it was cute but never wore.

  Well, a girl would just have to make do. After stripping naked, I riffled through his shirt drawer until I found something soft and worn that I’d seen him in more than once.

  When I slid it on, a little more winded than usual, I sat on the armrest of the couch to catch my breath, frowning over my sudden exhaustion. I ate another chocolate, but for some reason, that made my pulse race…or maybe it wasn’t the bonbon, but I felt awfully funny all of a sudden. Pausing mid-chew on my fourth—or was this the fifth—chocolate, I blinked rapidly when the room went sideways.

  “Whoa.” Putting out a hand to catch myself, I shook my head.

  What the hell? I tried to swallow, but the chocolate didn’t want to go down. Instead, I wheezed, and then a violent pain sliced through my stomach.

  Clutching my abdomen, I slipped off the couch and landed on my knees, doubling over until I was pressing my forehead against cool wood flooring. Mozart’s face appeared from under the bed as if he were worried, and coming to check on me.

  I tried to tell him I was okay, but it took me another second to realize I couldn’t speak…because my throat was swelling.

  I blinked when the squirrel went fuzzy, my eyes swelling too.

  Oh, shit. Allergic reaction. A little discombobulated because one had never really come on this fast before, I fumbled for my purse, but I couldn’t remember where I’d left it. I tried to look around the room, but I could barely see anything. My breathing got worse.

  I rasped Mozart’s name, not sure what he could do—fetch my purse for me?

  But I was glad at least he was here with me.

  My lungs seized because I could no longer get oxygen, and I think I began to vomit, but I was so weak, and my skin was so cold and clammy, I just lay on Asher’s floor, shivering.

  The second before I lost consciousness, a tear slipped down my cheek. This was going to hit him hard. He’d lived his whole life waiting for someone to love him, and now…now I had to leave him. Not wanting that for him, I tried one last time to crawl blindly, searching for my purse with my hands alone, only to find warm, coarse fur.

  Another tear trickled down my cheek, and I petted Mozart until everything went black.

  I softly sang Avicii’s “Hey Brother” under my breath as I hurried out to my bike, ready to get home and crawl under the covers with Remy. I’d rushed through clean-up at the bar, thinking about her warm and naked in my bed.

  I’d just swung my leg over my seat when Mandy, one of the waitresses, called, “Hey, Asher. My battery died again. Could you jump-start my car; I have cables.”

  With a little internal groan, I swung back off my Triumph, and said, “Sure,” just as Quinn jogged up and said, “I can help her if you want to head out.”

  I was tempted to take him up on his offer. But Quinn probably wanted to get home to his wife and baby just as much as I wanted to get home to Remy.

  Home.

  The word swirled through me and filled me with a lovely warmth. She really was my home. And I was going to finally tell her I loved her. Tonight. As soon as I helped Mandy.

  “No, you go ahead, man. I got this.” I waved Quinn away and helped Mandy with her car.

  Once she was good to go, and I’d waited until she could actually drive her automobile from the parking lot, I finally fired up my baby and drove to my familiar dark alley.

  The lights were on at the end of the stairwell as I unlocked the door and eased it open.

  Ooh, she’d waited up for me. Even better. Grinning, I jogged down the steps and swept into the apartment, ready to find her—hopefully—naked and spread out on some piece of furniture, awaiting me…like a good sex slave.

  But there was no naked Remy. And there wasn’t even a sleeping Remy on the bed. In fact, the bed was empty and made.

  I drew in a sharp breath, not prepared for her to have just left me like that. Not sure what it meant, or what I should make of her not being here, I started more slowly into the apartment when my whacked-out squirrel came flying out from under the bed at me.

  “Jesus,” I yelped, dancing my feet to dodge him, not at all certain what the hell he was doing as he scurried around the base of my feet and then took off again.

  “What did she feed you?” I wondered with a scowl as I watched him pick up what looked like a bonbon off the floor and disappear back under the bed with it.

  But a bonbon? What?

  I started to investigate when only a few steps closer revealed a limp human hand on my floor where it peeked out from the other side of the couch.

  “Oh God…Remy!” I raced to her, skidding onto my knees beside the still figure.

  Her face was unrecognizable, swollen with a blotchy red rash. But it had to be her; she had the purple streaks in her hair.

  “Oh, Jesus. No.” I scooped her into my arms and pressed her limp body to my chest, wondering what the hell had just happened. “Remy, wake up. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  I pressed my fingers to her neck and felt a flutter. I think I felt a flutter, anyway. Fuck, I wasn’t sure.

  “There’s a pulse,” I said aloud, not talking to anyone but needing to say it anyway.

  That’s when I spotted the empty bonbon box only a few feet away. I stared at them a moment, wondering where they’d come from, before I yanked my phone from my back pocket and dialed 911. It seemed like it took them forever to answer.

  Christ, weren’t emergency operators supposed to answer instantly? When a lady finally came over the line, I tried to describe everything to her as best I could.

  “Yes, unconscious,” I said. “She’s all swollen and…yeah, there’s a rash.”

  After a moment of listening, the woman told me, “It sounds like an allergic reaction.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Peanuts. She’s allergic to peanuts.” My gaze strayed to the chocolate box. “Oh, God. It looks like she ate…I don’t know.” How many had Mozart taken off with? “There’s an empty box of maybe two dozen bonbons here. They must’ve had some kind of peanut ingredient in them.”

  “Lay her flat on her back,” I was told, “Lift her legs and cover her with a blanket.”

  I nodded, ready to try anything. After I placed her gently on the floor, I snagged a pillow and blanket off my bed. She was completely unresponsive as I gently tended to her. “Are you sending an ambulance?”

  “Yes, but we need to do something now. If the reaction is as severe as you’re describing, it can only take fifteen minutes with her like this without any treatment before she might die.”

  My heart nearly stopped in my chest. Had it already been fifteen minutes? I had no clue how long she’d been like this before I’d gotten home. Christ. “Well, then how the fuck do we treat her?”

  “She should have some kind of emergency rescue medication on hand if she has a known allergy. Like an EpiPen or something.”

  I had no idea what an EpiPen looked like, but when I caught sight of Remy’s purse on the kitchen table, I dashe
d to it and dumped the contents all over the table. A shit ton of stuff spilled out. Pens, old receipts, a wallet, notepad, tampons, guitar pick, lip balm, a used Forbidden coaster, but…what the hell did an EpiPen even look like?

  “Jesus,” I gasped, afraid I was killing her even as I stood there, too stupid to know what I was looking for; my allergy to latex wasn’t anywhere bad enough to merit any kind of emergency rescue medication. I was about to throw the purse across the room in frustration when I felt a hard lump inside. I took one last look and found a zippered interior pocket.

  And I nearly wept with relief when the thick black letters spelling EpiPen sprang out at me from a bright yellow box inside.

  “I got it!” I yelled into the phone, racing back to Remy, where Mozart was hovering only a few feet away. I tore the box away from the pen and nodded as I listened to the instructions from the emergency operator about how to inject it. As I jabbed the needle into Remy’s thigh, I closed my eyes and prayed.

  Please, please, please work.

  I’d just found this woman. I couldn’t lose her now.

  One, two, three seconds passed, and then Remy wheezed. My eyes flew open just as she stirred, trying to roll onto her side. Coughing, she wheezed again.

  “Remy? Baby?” I cradled her, helping her move wherever she wanted to move. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay. We’re getting you some help now.”

  Her hand caught my wrist and she squeezed hold of me, letting me know she heard me. Tears slid down my cheeks. “You’re going to be just fine. Oh, God. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

  I didn’t have a number of anyone to call in Remy’s family, so I ended up ringing Jodi, and she met me at the hospital with sadly both Holden and Gally with her.

  When I told her what had gone down, she shivered and hugged herself. “Oh, God. I’m calling her family.”

  As she and Gally and Holden took control of one side of the waiting room, where Jodi paced and called number after number, I sat with my knees wide, my elbows resting on them so I could bury my face into my hands.

  I couldn’t believe I’d come so close to losing Remy, and I hadn’t even really gotten her yet. As soon as she woke up, I was letting her know good and well I loved her…and she wasn’t allowed to die on me.

  I sent off a text to Pick.

  Not sure why I did that; he was a newly married man. He and Eva were probably off on their honeymoon now. I shouldn’t have bothered him.

  But he was family, and I needed someone with me. I didn’t ask him to come, though, I just told him about what had happened, and oddly, I felt somewhat better after that, just having someone to talk to.

  I’d been sitting there about ten minutes, hoping someone would come and let us back to see her soon, when I spotted what looked like her cousin Tomás rush into the waiting room, followed by an older version of him—probably Remy’s uncle Alonso—and a little old lady, whom I figured had to be her grandmother.

  They descended on Jodi, demanding answers. As Jodi updated them as best she could, Tomás translated everything to the grandmother in Spanish, who clutched her mouth and looked as if she might pass out.

  “Asher’s the one who found her and saved her life.” Jodi motioned to me. “He knows more about it than I do.”

  Her family turned, and three pairs of eyes focused on me. I straightened in my chair, not ready to be their center of attention.

  “Who are you?” the uncle asked, eyeing me with untrusting disdain.

  “I, uh…” I pushed to my feet and held out a hand. “Asher Hart, sir. I’m Remy’s…friend.”

  The older man sniffed derisively at my palm. “She has too many gringo friends. What were you doing at her apartment?”

  I blinked, not expecting this line of questioning. “I, uh… Actually, she was at my place. I came home from work and found her unconscious on the floor. 911 talked me through giving her a shot from her EpiPen.”

  “Bien,” Tomás told me, slapping the side of my arm companionably. “Gracias for helping her.”

  His dad scowled at him and snapped something in Spanish, which only made his son shrug and answer with a few short unaffected words. Then Remy’s uncle was spinning back to me and blinking as if he wasn’t sure how to receive me now.

  I’m not sure what Tomás had said, but it seemed to temper the older man some.

  “Do you guys know of anyone who might want to poison her?” I asked. “Someone gave her a box of chocolates with peanuts in them. But…” I shook my head. “I don’t think it was accidental.”

  “Even though it very likely was accidental,” Jodi rushed to add when alarm spread across the faces of Remy’s family members.

  Tomás shook his head. “I don’t know, amigo. No one had it out for her. Remy’s likeable, you know.”

  I nodded. Yeah, I knew.

  “Maybe her ex. That lead singer in the band. What was his name?” For a second, I thought he was referring to me. But then he snapped his finger. “Fish ’N’ Dicks. That’s it.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Braden Fisher? She dated him?” I glanced at Jodi, who cringed and nodded, before I turned back to Tomás, who rolled his eyes.

  “I know, right? But I can’t see him wanting to get at her for any reason. He was the one who cheated and—”

  When his eyes went wide as if he was about to say too much, I sighed and said, “Stole the lyrics of her song. Yeah, I know.”

  I tried to think of anyone else who might be mad at her for any reason. The only person I could think up was me, but then I turned my thoughts to Gally and Holden…who’d just been forced to accept her into their band. But when I glanced their way, Gally lifted a bored voice and called, “So are we getting extra sex tonight for being all charitable and coming here to check on her?”

  Okay, so Gally and Holden probably hadn’t poisoned her. I turned away with a frustrated sigh, but someone lurking in the hallway caught my eye. I blinked, focusing on him, but he was gone before I had a good look.

  Narrowing my eyes, I followed my suspicions and stepped out of the waiting room. The man was about twenty feet away, his back to me and shoulders hunched forward as if trying to conceal his identity. But I knew that walk. Damn it.

  “Hey,” I hollered.

  He glanced back, and yep, there was my father.

  Son of a bitch.

  When our gazes met, he whirled away and darted around a corner.

  Remy’s words suddenly echoed through my head. The worst way to hurt you would be for someone to go after the ones you loved. And it wouldn’t take a lot of investigating for someone to realize I loved her.

  I took off running and skidded around the corner in hot pursuit. When I came to another corner and hurried around it, something hit me hard in the face, taking me down to my knees. It fucking hurt too. I tasted blood and immediately saw stars.

  “Christ.” I dove at a pair of legs in front of me and heard my dad grunt as I tackled him to the ground. His head banged against the tiled floor, and I took advantage of the moment to leap on top of him and slam my fist into his face.

  He cursed and struggled under me.

  “Was it you?” I demanded. “Did you give her those chocolates?”

  He laughed up at me, flashing a bloody-toothed smile. “Did it get the job done, or is she still alive?”

  “You fucking bastard.” I hit him again.

  I would’ve broken his nose next, but he swung something at the side of my head, knocking me off him and ringing my bell until I saw stars.

  “Too bad your stupid fucking pet wasn’t as easy to get rid of,” he snarled as he rose above me. “What kind of pussy has a squirrel for a pet anyway? I never could beat any kind of manliness into you, could I?”

  I blinked him into focus in time to see him lift his weapon above his head, and what the fuck was that? Looked like a metal clipboard thing he might’ve stolen from a doctor or nurse. Lifting my hands to protect my head, because I wasn’t sure my noggin could stand another wa
llop, I flinched backward.

  The sick malicious relish in his eyes told me how much he loved being in this position, standing over me and making me cower. I gritted my teeth, ready to dive at his legs again, but someone pushed him from behind, making him lose his grip on the clipboard. It went flying past my head as he tripped forward and landed on his knees.

  “Now, now, old man. No one’s allowed to play unfair with my little brother.”

  I gaped up at Pick, who was toeing my father onto his back on the floor so he could then press his foot to the old man’s windpipe, pinning him by his throat.

  “What’re you doing here?” I couldn’t help but gasp in amazement.

  “You called. I came.” He shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

  Climbing to my knees, I fell back onto my haunches and blew out a relieved breath.

  “So you really did do all that stupid shit, like cutting the wire to my bike’s fuel line and the cord to the club’s sound system?”

  My dad snarled at me, but couldn’t really answer since my brother was kind of crushing his vocal chords at the moment.

  I only shook my head. “And you thought I was lame. You could’ve really gotten to me, old man. Yet you went this stupid route. Now you’re going to lose your parole and go back to prison…without all that work you put into a revenge against me paying off at all. That’s sad…just sad.”

  “I should’ve let your mama finish aborting you the day I walked into the bathroom and found her all bloody,” he garbled up at me, his eyes full of hate. “Neither of us had any use for you. You never amounted to anything. Your poor mother died still despising the very sight of you.”

  Swallowing, I turned away only to catch Pick watching me with worried eyes. Nodding to him, I rasped, “I’m done here.”

  He nodded just as a pair of nurses came around the corner and skidded to a stop when they saw the tattooed, pierced guy pinning an older man to the ground with a boot to his throat.

  But my brother…all he did was flash the women a pleasant smile. “Hey there, ladies. Do you think you could do me a favor and call security or maybe the police? This man here just admitted to trying to kill my brother’s girlfriend.”