by Anne Conley
“Let’s go,” the man behind her said.
“You’re just going to march us out the front?” She was talking loudly, hoping beyond hope that Andrew and Zack were still out there somewhere.
Austin grinned. “Yep. That’s what you get for pulling the fire alarm and fighting. We don’t tolerate that sort of bullshit here.”
“Fire alarm?” As long as they were talking, Deena Rae and Slade had a chance. She had no idea when her way of thinking had changed from her alone to the two of them together, but she wasn’t in the frame of mind to tear that apart right now.
“Someone pulled it.” Austin shrugged. “Might as well blame you.”
Slade was ashen-faced and silent. She was worried by the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. He had a normal look on his beautiful face, but his coloring was way off. He was in pain and obviously trying to hide it.
“You okay, Slade?” she asked him, and he nodded once, biting the inside of his cheek. A part of her felt relieved at that. She was pissed at him, but she still wanted to see him walking away, that fine ass on display when this was all over. Deena Rae had no desire to see him in a casket.
Thug Number Three led her out the door behind Thug Number Two, Slade and Austin following. She could try to get away at this point, she was out in the open, but they’d overpowered her countless times already tonight and she was exhausted. Besides, what would keep them from killing Slade if she ran?
She kept her eyes in front of her, alert for signs of someone she could signal. When she saw Andrew, her heart soared. She didn’t even have to signal; he only nodded as he gestured to someone on the other side of her. She looked over and saw Simon. Oh God. If Simon were here, that probably meant the entire firm was, too. They were going to be okay.
So why weren’t they calling in the cavalry?
Her eyes strained in the crowded club, observing people trying to get out of the building with the alarms blaring. The music had stopped and the lights had come on, but people everywhere looked dazed and unfocused, except the men she worked with. She saw Ryan leading a group toward the front door, Jordan leading a group to the side door, and Hollerman as he led a group out the back door.
Fucking swashbucklers were saving the crowds of people and leaving her and Slade to the bad guys.
The thugs led Deena Rae and Slade outside and around the back of the building. There were clumps of people everywhere, their night of partying interrupted by the evacuation, which meant they were mostly drunks trying to figure out how to get home or where their shit was. Lights and sirens from an approaching firetruck cast a surreal pall over the evening.
Deena Rae called out to a group of people, and another yelp sounded from Slade. “What the fuck did you do?” She spun around and saw Slade slumping under another knife wound, this one in his thigh.
“Watch it. There’s a femoral artery down there,” Austin warned. “Might nick that one, too.”
Defeated, Deena Rae succumbed to being led away to whatever. She was sure she would die tonight. Andrew and the cavalry weren’t actually saving her. For whatever reason, she was on her own.
At an old beat-up Buick, they stopped, and Thug Number Three unlocked the trunk. “Took us a while to find something with a big enough trunk for both of you, but I think this’ll work.” He sneered at her.
Austin and Number Two muscled them into the trunk, which smelled of old tires and gasoline fumes. Slade was fading fast. This wasn’t good.
At all.
With a whimper and one last yell for effect, she bit the man who was trying to get her on top of Slade.
“Do you want me to just slit his throat and let you bathe in the blood?”
That was a gruesome image she didn’t need in her head.
“No.”
“Good. Then get your pretty little ass in there before I decide to do it anyway. He’s been pissing me off for months.”
“Gotcha. Slade’s an ass. No disagreement here.”
That asshole’s smile was the last thing she saw before Deena Rae was engulfed in dank darkness. And that pissed her off because she knew it was probably the last thing she’d ever get to see.
Fighting back panic, Deena Rae felt blindly across Slade’s body, finding an odd comfort in his presence. “Are you gonna be okay? We gotta figure out a way out of this, Slade.” Her voice sounded scared, even to her own ears.
“I know. I’m fine.” He groaned, though, and everywhere she touched was covered in warm, sticky blood. “Can you bust out a taillight? Get them pulled over?”
Grunting, Deena Rae managed to turn, putting her backside against Slade. “I’m sorry if this hurts.” Internally acknowledging her sudden one-eighty on the whole “protecting Slade’s junk” stance, she remembered not giving a shit about his jewels earlier in the evening. For some reason, this was different. The Pierce boys had abandoned her; Slade was all she had left. They were going to die together tonight, and she was bonding with him over that.
He moaned his response but didn’t say anything as he grabbed her hips. She thought he might be trying to keep her from mashing into his wound, but his grip only tightened.
Deena Rae kicked where she thought the taillights might have been. She hadn’t gotten a really great look at them but remembered they were really big—long and wide—so she hoped she was kicking in the right place.
Slade hissed out air between his teeth, and she felt the press of a slight bulge at her ass.
“Seriously?”
“I can’t help it. Must be instinct. My body knows I’m about to die and this beautiful ass is pressed against it.” The words were gritted out in pain, but Deena Rae chuckled anyway, hoping to bring a smile to his face in the darkness.
“You’re not about to die.” She continued kicking, not having a clue if it was doing any good. She felt around her head for the other light, thinking maybe there was something else she could do. Deena Rae started mumbling under her breath. “Motherfucker, cock-sucking, fleabag hillbillies.”
A grunt sounded from Slade, and she could only assume that was a question, not the sounds of him bleeding out. “Oh, just the assholes I work with. They were all there tonight, ushering everyone out of the club safely, watching us get loaded into this fucking trunk.”
She didn’t know if they saw her or not, but she assumed they did. She was pissed that they thought the lives of hundreds of club-goers trumped hers. Okay, that made her sound like a bitch, but they would have done what was necessary to save each other. What made her different? She thought she was part of a brotherhood or some shit. Never mind she had a vagina, she still thought she was a brother.
They were on a highway, going pretty fast from the feel of things, and the bumps and ridges seemed evenly spaced. They were leaving the city.
“Slade, I forgive you, but you have to know I don’t think this is going to work out between us,” Deena Rae said lightly, not giving up with her kicking while her hands felt around for something else—a flashlight, flare gun, anything.
A rueful chuckle met her ears. “I really thought he was holding my mom hostage. Now that I know he was going to kill her anyway, I should have just gone to the cops.”
“I get it. I really do.” Her words were the total opposite of what she knew. Deena Rae had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but now wasn’t the time for explanations.
The car exited the highway, and the next thing Deena Rae felt was lots and lots of bumps. They’d left the road altogether. It felt like they were going off into a field or something.
Then hushed murmurs and a sloshing noise.
Sloshing.
“Shit, Slade. They’re going to burn the car.”
Her hands met his as they both found a renewed strength to search for something, anything to get them the hell out of this tomb of fiery death.
With a whoosh and sudden heat, the car was on fire.
“Shit.” Slade’s voice held more than a tinge of panic, and Deena Rae was right there with him.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Ginger.”
“I’m not dying today, Slade, and I told you my fucking name is not Ginger.”
The fire was spreading, getting louder. The crackling sound of licking flames turned to a roaring inferno. She tried to imagine it, to calm herself down. Most of the car fires she’d seen, besides the ones in movies, were small things. It was just the metal that made it seem worse.
Yeah. Hot metal really sucked. The smell of burning rubber was foul in her nostrils and the metal surrounding her was hot. She coughed, desperate for air. The first cough expelled air from her lungs and she couldn’t get another lungful to save her life.
Slade started yelling, taking over the kicking from her while Deena Rae fought for air.
“Help! Somebody! We’re inside!”
Deena Rae’s vision darkened around the edges. The heat was so intense she couldn’t handle it anymore. If she could just close her eyes, everything would be okay, but it was so hot.
So. Hot.
Her hands blistered, and she screamed at the pain shooting through her skin. There was no beginning and no end to it. Thankfully, the darkness was taking over. If only Slade would stop his infernal yelling.
“Deena Rae! Stay with me!”
Slade had managed to keep his cool until Deena Rae suddenly started screaming and then fell silent. That was when he realized things were really as bad as they seemed.
If Deena Rae had quit fighting, they were fucked.
Everything in his body hurt, but Slade covered her body with his, not having a clue if it would help. If something could protect her, he would do what he could. Although, the floor of the trunk was hotter than hell, so maybe he should get underneath her instead. Slade couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t know if it was because of the fire, or the fact he’d been stabbed. Everything was difficult, but he gritted his teeth and grunted through it. Never mind everything was hopeless, he had to do something.
He was just in the process of turning them over when the air changed.
Someone had opened the trunk and was lifting him out. He reached for Deena Rae, finally able to see her in the bright moonlight.
“Deena Rae …” She was burned, but not badly. He was surprised. It felt like both of their skin had been melting off. “Get her.”
“Hang on, buddy. Hollerman’s got her.” It was a familiar voice, but Slade had no idea which one of Deena Rae’s co-workers had come to their rescue. Well, her rescue. They’d probably leave him in the trunk if they knew the role he’d played.
He saw a massive dude reach down and pluck her up, tossing her over his shoulder, before Slade was being jostled as his rescuer ran with him out of harm’s way.
But it was too late. The car exploded with a mighty boom, and Slade was suddenly airborne. Then he felt pain. Then he felt nothing.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Seeing Slade in the hospital bed was a mixed bag of emotions for Deena Rae. His hard, strong body was badly broken. The stab wound had punctured a lung, and it had collapsed somewhere along the way. Part of her wanted to curl up next to him in the small bed and offer some comfort, to ease his suffering. But another part of her wondered if the stab wounds and burns were enough punishment for his betrayal.
She wanted to forgive him and see if they could start again, but she’d never been one to forgive lightly. She couldn’t help but think the amazing sex, crooked smile, and rugged good looks were fogging her brain. Silently, Deena Rae let herself out of his room, so as not to wake him, and walked back to her own room down the hall.
They’d both been in the burn unit of the hospital for what felt like months. Lying in a bed, at the mercy of others, unable to drink a fucking Diet Coke when she wanted it, had made her crazy. Thankfully, she still had a job, even after she’d yelled at every single member of the securities firm when they’d come by to check on her.
Simon had been first, walking in her hospital room and making the mistake of being the first visitor after she’d regained consciousness and received the news the hospital didn’t keep Diet Coke for patients.
“How are you? You look … good,” he’d said, looking supremely uncomfortable.
“What does that mean? Alive? You surprised?”
Simon’s shock at her outburst was accompanied by a stammered response. “What? No. I know you’re capable. I was just worried.”
“You should have been after abandoning us. You were there! You were all there! You and Andrew saw them leading us out at gunpoint!” Everything hurt, and her voice was raspy and rough, but she was managing a weird, croaky whisper-shout.
He flinched. “We had to evacuate the club. You had the tracker on you. We knew where you were at all times. Evan made sure of it.” His explanation was so simple, spoken with a low vehemence that left her chagrined.
“Oh.” Her fingers twisted in the blanket. “Well … sorry. But I’m still gonna be mad about it.”
Simon sighed. “You should be. We cut it too close. I’m sorry for that. But you did really well.”
Deena Rae had smiled at the compliment, and Simon had gotten her a two liter of Diet Coke, so she was appeased. She repeated the confrontation with every single member of the team except Quinten, who’d just returned and had nothing to do with the incident. But she managed to get eight bottles of soda from the deal, so there was that.
Deena Rae was getting out and going home today, but Slade was staying a little longer. Cecil had been arrested but was out on bail while the D.A. scrambled to find evidence his wrong-doings weren’t the security team’s word against his. He’d been careful to cover his tracks, but the D.A. was compiling shit, just very slowly.
The police were fucking idiots. They couldn’t find their ass if she handed it to them on a fucking platter.
The weight of Slade’s betrayal wasn’t as crushing as it had once been. Deena Rae could sort of see his position. If her parents’ life had been on the line, and she hadn’t been fully aware of Cecil’s intentions to kill Slade, she’d have probably turned him over to save them.
But it still didn’t lessen the fact he’d done it to her.
She was stuck. She didn’t want the hearts and flowers fairy tale with Slade, but as she watched his pale body diminish in the hospital bed, she admitted she wasn’t ready to say goodbye, either.
But she would. Deena Rae traced the outline of the tattoo of his arm and made her peace with leaving him alone, knowing he was truly alone in the world, aside from Zack, even though Zack didn’t know about him.
It wasn’t her place to tell Slade’s secrets, even though she felt guilty for knowing them. He’d told her of his own volition, but that was on the date where they talked about relationships and exclusivity and shit. Now they were nothing, and she had a little piece of him he wouldn’t want her to have, and she couldn’t give it back.
But she could keep his secret to herself, for whatever it was worth.
Her fingers drifted up to swipe a curl of hair off Slade’s face. It was too soft for a man’s hair. Something inside her squeezed, and a small sob escaped.
Yeah. She had to get out of here.
A voice at the door made her spin around.
“You ready, Dee?” Andrew leaned against the doorframe with Zack standing next to him. She’d known they were coming to take her home, even though she’d told Simon she didn’t need them. He’d been insistent, and she’d relented. Deena Rae was tired of fighting everyone for her independence. It was just easier to acquiesce at this point.
“Deena Rae, fucker. Stop giving me stupid pet names.” The only pet names she’d ever thought about allowing had come from Slade’s mouth, and she was done with him now. She gave him one last look, hoping for some sort of resolution to her feelings, and turned back to her co-workers. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Back at her apartme
nt, all Deena Rae could remember was the last time she’d been there, when Slade had been planning on turning her over to his boss. His nerves were obvious now, in the clarity only hindsight could provide.
She should hate him. She wanted to hate him. Even as she looked over at his empty apartment, though, she couldn’t find it in her to despise him the way she should.
Zack and Andrew were banging around in her kitchen, making a stupid grocery list, clearly planning on staying for a while.
“Y’all can go now. I’m not really wanting a lot of company right now.”
Zack turned toward her, his blindness hidden by an astuteness. “Boss’s orders. Sorry, chicklet.”
“I don’t need y’all to be here,” she insisted, feeling the warmth rush to her cheeks. This was going to piss her off. She reached for her phone as Andrew muttered something about her cheap beer and needing something only a snob from Portland would drink. Fucking IPAs. Jesus. Everything was making her mad. She was not in the mood for bullshit right now.
After dialing his cell phone, Deena Rae waited for Simon to answer, taking deep breaths, hoping for a calm she didn’t want to feel. She wanted to be alone and angry. She wanted to embrace the anger and hope for healing that way.
“I know why you’re calling, and the answer’s no. You need someone staying with you.” Simon’s voice was one of a man used to agreement. He had been Sergeant before retiring from the force and was used to people taking his orders. Well, she didn’t like taking orders.
“Sir, with all due respect, I can only assume you hired me to work for you because you found some competency in my abilities. I cannot think of a reason why you would think I can’t handle living alone.” With the possible exception of the fact she’d been kidnapped and almost burned alive not too long ago.
“Think of it as nursing services. This is non-negotiable.”
Deena Rae eased herself gingerly onto her sofa, raising one leg to her coffee table. “Sir, I’m fine. I don’t need a nurse.” Her burns were mostly superficial at this point, and while they hurt like a motherfucker, she’d been extremely lucky. She remembered losing it in the trunk of the car, but the burns on her back and the arm she’d been laying on had been second-degree burns. Her skin hadn’t actually peeled off, but it felt like it had at the time. A nurse to help her change the dressings would be nice, but she could manage. She certainly didn’t want to put the guys out when they had other jobs to do. “Besides, I have a hard enough time with Andrew staring at my tits. I don’t need him exposed to that much of my skin.”