“Don’t use me as an excuse to call her,” I said. I wasn’t going to be some pawn for her.
“You. Are. An. Idiot.” Reese started dialing again. “Do you know any EMTs?”
“No.”
“Anyone who’s pre-med?”
“No.”
“Any nurses? Doctors?”
“No.” I made another grab for the phone.
“Then sit tight, sweetheart.”
After that, I sat still.
Reese moved the phone to her other ear. “Hey, sorry she grabbed the phone and threw it.” I could hear Kerry’s voice. “No, she’s not normally like that…So that’s normal?” The more I heard her voice, the angrier I got. “I’ll check.” Reese pulled to the curb and engaged the locks. She turned toward me.
“What are you doing?”
“Look at my eyes,” Reese said. I did as I was told. Reese picked up the phone again. “Yeah, her pupils are uneven.”
“Your pupils are uneven,” I responded like a genius.
“Yeah, she’s acting belligerent.”
“You’re acting belligerent.” I couldn’t stop myself.
“So I should take her in?” In where? “Is she going to be okay?” I was fuckin’ fantastic. Except the whole sitting thing was brutally painful because of my ribs and standing was brutally painful because of my head thing. “Thanks, Kerry. Yeah, okay. Bye.”
“Did Kerry send her love?”
“She told me you were probably acting like this because you have a concussion.” Reese could kill with that look.
“Fuck that. I’m fine.”
“I’m taking you to a hospital.” Reese got on the road again. “We’ll just pay cash so we don’t have to deal, all right? Do you have your fake ID?”
“Yeah, and I got cash.” Somehow, that seemed helpful. I dug in my pocket and started pulling out hundreds. One by one, I crumpled and threw them at Reese while making explosion noises.
“Cooper, I fuckin’ swear…” Apparently, she swore nothing except empty threats.
I didn’t want to go to a hospital. Reese didn’t seem to care though so we spent half the night getting my head looked at so they could tell us my ribs were broken and I was pissing blood. Like I didn’t already know that.
*
“Did you talk to Ryan?” was the first thing I asked when Reese woke me up late the next afternoon. We were in some random hotel. I remembered that much.
“Yeah. He’s in San Jose hiding out in a motel.” Reese rolled over to look at me. She very softly trailed her hand down my chest. “You want a pain pill?”
“Maybe.” It only took one deep breath for me to say, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
“I’ll go get it.” Reese threw off the sheet and got out of bed. She was wearing nothing but a little tiny pair of boy briefs. Very nice.
“Did he say anything? Was he pissed?” I was a little groggy, but I could remember most of what happened.
“Not at you.” Reese helped me sit up, which felt like hell, and handed me a pill and a glass of water. “He was ready to kill Vito and his guys though.”
“You sure?” That water was fuckin’ ambrosia.
“Yeah, he thought you should have told them sooner to avoid the beating. Actually, he said, and I quote, ‘You’re not in a bullshit movie and it’s okay to break.’” Reese slid her cool hand to the back of my neck and rubbed lightly.
“That feels good.” My chin dropped to my chest and I closed my eyes. Reese rubbed more. She was amazing. I opened my eyes again and saw my hands against the sheets. Rivers of rusty red filled the creases in my skin. Dried blood. It was on my arms too, matting the pale hair. “Does my face look as bad as my hands?”
“Pretty much.” Reese stopped rubbing, but left her hand on my neck. “But I still think you’re hot.”
“Thanks.” When I smiled, I could feel the pull of dried blood on my lips too. “Can I shower? Or is that not allowed?”
“You sure you don’t want to sleep some more? I’ll have to wake you up again in an hour anyway. Head checks.”
“No, I’m done sleeping.”
“All right. You want help?”
“Just with getting undressed.” We started the slow progression to the bathroom. Once there, Reese worked the shirt I was wearing over my head and dropped my underwear to the floor. I wasn’t really paying attention. I was just looking at my face in the mirror. It was like an Easter egg a kid would make, all blue and purple and green. Both my eyes were black. My now twice broken nose was slightly off where it had once been perfectly straight. A couple butterfly dressings were holding the cut on my cheek closed. I looked like absolute shit.
“Make sure you’re careful in the shower. Don’t touch your nose. Oh, and those butterfly things are waterproof.” Reese avoided making eye contact as she left. Not that I blamed her.
The worst part of showering was getting the blood out of my ears. Gross. It was caked in the weirdest places, the hollow of my collarbones, my eyebrows, my fingernails, even some in my bellybutton. All the places the nurses didn’t clean at the hospital. At least my head was buzzed. Otherwise, my hair would have been a bitch to get clean.
Reese was staring out the window when I got out, a glass of scotch in her hand. She heard me and twisted around. The towel hanging off my hips didn’t do much for me though because she immediately turned back to the window.
“You okay?” I asked hesitantly. It wasn’t my imagination that she couldn’t look at me. What I didn’t know was why.
“I’m fine.” Reese sipped her drink then held the glass to her temple.
“Come here.” I leaned against the couch with my arms hanging limply at my sides. Crossing them hurt too much.
“You want a drink?” She ignored me and crossed to the bar.
“No. Come here.”
Reese set down her glass and kept her eyes on the floor as she walked toward me.
“Reese.” I tipped her chin up. “Why won’t you look at me?”
A hint of tears came into her eyes. “I can’t.” She studied the expanse of windows. When I turned her chin so she was looking at me again, she broke. “It hurts too much. I can’t believe they did this to you.” Her fingers traced my jaw. Very, very lightly, she kissed my lips.
That was all it took. The throbbing in my head stopped, the ache in my chest and ribs faded, and all I felt was Reese.
“Don’t look at me then.” I moved behind her, pushing her thighs against the back of the couch. My lips found that spot at the back of her neck that made her shiver and tense.
“Coop, you’re hurt,” came the mild protest.
“I need it.” My voice sounded hoarse and desperate. “I need you.”
“Then I’m yours.” Damn right. Reese stripped off her shirt. Immediately, I cupped her tits, playing her nipples between my fingertips. She arched back, filling my hands. Damn, she felt good. Reese slid her little briefs down, catching my towel along the way. Her bare ass pushed back into me. That feeling of Reese skin and Cooper skin all pressed together, it was fuckin’ perfect. Fuckin’ world peace presented in skin. I gripped her hips, my fingertips dug into that depression where thigh met stomach, and pulled her tighter against me.
Reese leaned forward, her elbows on the couch, and linked her hands over her neck. She was waiting.
I allowed myself the luxury of tracing the contours of her ass. Her breathing picked up. She wanted me to fuck her. What else could I do? I wet my thumb and pushed into her ass as I slid two fingers into her cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” Reese whispered.
“Okay?” I asked a little late.
“Fuck, yeah,” she gasped and spread her legs further apart.
Slowly, I built it up, that rhythm that made her groan and twitch and beg. My hand closed over her shoulder so I could control her thrusting back. Sweat broke out between her shoulder blades making my hand slide on the perfect sheen. I couldn’t take it, that image of her light chocolate skin and my pale han
d, thumb buried in her ass, fingers thrusting into her cunt. Damn.
Vaguely, I was aware of pain in my own body. It was eclipsed by the low moans emanating from Reese, her pleas that I not stop. So I didn’t, I went faster. I wanted to, no, had to kiss her. I leaned down. Kissed across her shoulders. Licked the sweat on her spine. Bit the base of her neck. She groaned. Reached one hand back and pulled my head tighter against her. Then, she stiffened, gasping my name, pushing back one last time so I could fill her all the way.
Then she was turned around, open mouth against my shoulder, face buried in my neck, whispering, chanting, “Need you. So much. Afraid, I was so afraid.”
All I could do was hold and tell her, “I know, I know.”
Chapter Twenty
We were ready, cashed out, bags packed, showered, and dressed. I was wearing the H&K P2000 SK Reese got for me. She said she didn’t want me going anywhere unless I was packing. I couldn’t really disagree. The .40 cal seemed a little extreme, but Ryan told her she had to butch up my piece. As if a gun wasn’t butch enough all on its own.
All I had to do was wait for the twins. They made the decision to pack the car and leave me in the room with the so-called important stuff, the cash. It was just an excuse to keep me safe for the ten minutes it took to come back to The Wynn and check out. How boring. I called Reese’s cell phone for the second time.
“Are you guys done yet? I don’t want to sit in the room anymore.”
“Keep your pants on.” I could hear the faint echo of the parking garage they were in. “We have a lot of shit to pack.”
“Let me talk to Ryan.” I unsnapped and re-snapped the holster against my ribs. May as well have put handcuffs on me.
“No, we’ll be done soon. I’ll call when we’re on the way up.”
“Fine. Hurry, okay?”
She hung up on me.
I paced around the room. I took off my jacket and checked out my holster in the mirror. It looked good on me. If you liked guns, which I didn’t. I put my jacket back on. Couldn’t walk around a casino with heat like that, had to keep it covered. I looked in the duffle bag holding the cash. Yep, it was still in there. How surprising. I slung the bag over my shoulder and looked in the mirror again. Yep, it looked like a duffle bag over my shoulder. Boring.
The phone rang. Finally. It was the room phone, not my cell phone. Weird.
“Hello.”
“Ms. Cooper?” a slightly high, but decidedly masculine voice asked.
“Yes?”
“This is Ricky. I’m one of the valets downstairs.” He spoke rapidly.
“Reese’s friend,” I said.
“Yes. I’m watching one of the monitors for the garage.” It wasn’t just rushed I decided, it sounded like fear in his voice. “Your friends are in trouble, I think.”
“What do you mean?” Now I didn’t sound much better than him.
“There is another car, a sedan, two men just got out. I think they have guns, but I can’t tell. It looks like they’re trying to force your friends into their car.”
“Fuck. Can you stop them?”
“How?” Damn. Good question. “Do you want me to call the police?”
“No.” I responded by instinct then thought about it. And then I thought about why my instinct was to say no to the cops. “I’m coming down. Have our rental car for me. If they leave the garage before I get there, then call the cops.” I didn’t wait for a response. I just slammed the phone down, grabbed the duffle bag, and ran.
Ricky was in the lobby near the valet pickup. Sweat glinted on his brow, though I wasn’t sure if it was from the heat or nerves. He followed me to Ryan’s rental while spouting directions to the garage and trying to keep up without sprinting. That would probably look bad.
I only had one question. “How many exits are there?”
“Two. Back and front. They are kind of in the middle of the garage.”
“Where does the back come out?” Guess I had two questions.
“Service road behind the casino. Front is on the main road.” He opened the car door for me.
I dug a couple of bills out of my pocket, hundreds, and pressed them into his hand. “Thanks, Ricky.” Then I tossed the bag in ahead of me, jumped in, and gunned that motherfucker. With my free hand, I dug into the duffle bag and pulled out Ryan’s Glock. Two men, I’d need two guns.
The tires screeched as I rounded the casino and rocketed into the parking garage. Once inside, I knew I could drive around for hours and never find them. That place was huge. I chose a spot near the back exit, about four rows away, and waited. It was a gamble. Hell, it was Vegas.
After thirty seconds, I was sweating. Gambling is great with money, not so much with your best friends’ lives. One minute had me drumming my fingers on the gun pinned between my palm and the steering wheel. I must have chosen the wrong exit. Three minutes, I was ready to piss myself. Where the fuck were they? How long did it take to shove a couple scrawny kids into a car? At four minutes and change, I heard a car. I sort of ducked down, but that just made my ribs feel like shattered glass. I bit my lip and tried to ignore the sting.
Then it was there, a dark sedan with a thick-necked dude behind the wheel. Next to him, Vito was scanning the garage as they drove toward the exit. The first time he looked, his gaze slid right past me. The second time he looked it clicked. He smacked the guy driving and pointed. They sped up real fast. He probably thought I was going to follow them. Nope, I was way dumber than that.
I punched the gas and aimed right for him. It was hard to steer with the gun in my hand. First gear, second, third, and the engine screamed at me. Vito raised his hand and squeezed off a single shot that seemed unbelievably loud. When I slammed into their car, fuck. Bone-jarring? Hell, no. Try enough impact to make my sides feel like they were splitting open and shredding any remaining bone, flesh, muscle I had left. Try my headache reaching levels I’d only imagined before that fucker Vito.
All forward motion stopped as the driver’s side of the sedan smashed into a cement pillar. The grill of the rental implanted into the opposite fender. They were trapped and they were fucking mine.
I got out of the car with my hand already wrapped around Ryan’s gun and pointed it at the driver. I yanked my H&K out of its holster and aimed it at Vito’s head. At that point, I had few qualms about pulling the trigger.
It didn’t look like I’d have a problem. Vito was definitely alive, just sitting there staring at me, stunned. The driver was shaking his head, trying to figure out what happened. It gave me enough time to glance in the backseat at the twins. They had the same expression as Vito.
“Move,” I screamed.
They did. Everyone. Ryan grabbed Reese and hauled her out of the backseat. His door opened fine. Vito started trying to muscle his door open, but that so wasn’t happening. There was a car rammed into the side of it. Dumbass. Same with the guy behind the wheel. His door was glued to a cement post. They were lucky I hadn’t been going faster.
“Holy shit,” Ryan nearly whispered. Then he screamed, “Are you fuckin’ crazy?” He was only a couple feet away so his voice was deafening.
“Yes,” I told him without taking my eyes off their captor.
Vito realized his door wasn’t going to magically open. He unloaded a couple rounds into the already cracked windshield then kicked it releasing a shower of glass on himself. Not too smart. He and his buddy started to climb out.
“Guys. Get in the fuckin’ car.” I yelled to the twins. It took a second for them to understand. Finally, Ryan started pushing Reese toward the car. Slowly. Vito and his buddy were scrambling over the hood of their car when I shouted for them to stop. They paused.
“Why?” Vito asked. “You won’t shoot us.”
“You sure about that?” Maybe it was my tone or the way I was grinning, but he actually stopped moving. Just stood there on the hood of his car. The twins had also stopped. They were watching me, studying me. I turned to tell them to get in the car. What I saw m
ade me freeze, a bright red handprint across Reese’s cheek. Immediately, I spun back to face Vito.
“Is there a problem?” Vito sort of chuckled.
“Which one of you was stupid enough to touch her?”
“That was Jimmy.” Vito gave a nod to the guy next to him. Jimmy laughed. That really pissed me off.
I dropped the gun in my right hand a few inches and squeezed the trigger. I was close enough that I couldn’t miss. The kick from the gun forced me to take a step back. Probably should have taken it to a range to get a feel for it.
Jimmy screamed and fell clutching his knee. Blood seeped through the cracks between his fingers. The shards of glass on the hood scraped and echoed as he twitched. I felt oddly satisfied and only a little nauseous.
At least I’d talked Reese out of the hollow points.
“Was that really necessary?” Vito asked like he was trying to be cool. Judging by the amount of sweat on his face, it wasn’t working.
“I’m not in the mood to fuck around.”
Vito took another step closer. “Let’s talk. Work this out.” His hands were in the air like a surrender. Screw that.
“You know?” I moved both guns so one was pointed at his head, the other at his body. “I’m not really feeling it. So just shut the fuck up and don’t come any closer.”
“Oh, Cooper.” Vito sighed like I was a recalcitrant toddler. But I wasn’t. I was a recalcitrant adult. Much worse. At least he wasn’t walking forward anymore. Next to him, Jimmy screamed some more.
“What part of shut the fuck up did you not get?” More screaming. “And make him shut up too,” I said as if Vito could make it happen.
“You just shot him in the knee. That’s pretty painful,” Vito said. Damn, he was annoying. Condescending too.
“Whatever.” I couldn’t take my eyes of Vito, but I could still talk to the twins. “Will you guys go get the car so we can get the hell out of here?”
“Sure. Whatever you say.” Ryan backed away from me.
“I’ll stay here.” Reese finally spoke.
“Here.” I handed her Ryan’s gun, which she trained on Vito. Jimmy finally stopped screaming. He must have passed out.
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