LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2)

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LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2) Page 37

by Kristina Weaver


  “This is Fig, short for Figueroa. He’s on Liv right now. Calm down Gabe, your girl’s okay, just knocked out. They had to set a break in her right arm.” Brick warns, planting a palm in Gabe’s chest to stop him from barreling into the room. “Listen up, my man, that woman was in some serious pain when we found her. Her arm was broken, but she still managed to squeeze her way free of the ropes she was tied with and try to drag Remy out of that warehouse.”

  Gabe pales and I see him swallow a few times before nodding and stepping back to lean against the opposite wall.

  “Tell us.”

  I see the other men settle in against their own spots before Brick sighs and starts talking.

  “When we got there, we found Liv dragging Remy out of the warehouse. The poor woman was in some serious pain but she’s got heart, I’ll tell ya that. They were alone and Liv immediately told us the whole story when she found out who we were. Remy was drugged, punched, and knocked out. They were both kept in separate rooms till one of the men—yeah, there were two when Liv woke up—decided it was time to get cracking. Remy apparently was making one hell of a ruckus before whatever they injected her with started shutting down her nervous system.”

  That makes my heart stop, and I think Brick can see how totally unhinged I’m about to become because the guy grabs the back of my neck and squeezes soothingly.

  “They had to drag her out of there to get her to the warehouse where they tied both women up and took a steel pipe to them. To Remy’s right leg and to Liv’s right arm.”

  Something in his tone catches my attention and I see his eyes dart to Gabe before one of his guys take position beside him to intercept if necessary.

  “Look guys, I’m gonna be dead honest here. The fact that both girls were taken—not just one—tells me that this was a message. Also, Liv said they broke her arm, and I quote, ‘for his right hand man.’ Whoever hired those goons is sending a message. Not just to you, but to Gabe as well. You pissed off someone powerful.”

  My mind starts whirling and I barely register that Gabe has gone nuts and would no doubt start trashing the place if not for the hulking brute keeping him pinned to a wall; his voice is a rough, soothing growl that eventually gets Gabe to calm down and sink to the floor with a groan.

  “I have a lot of enemies, Brick.”

  “No shit, man. Dec’s already checking you out to start weeding leads.”

  I’m not worried about finding those responsible, not with Brick and his team on it. No, as one of the nation’s most deadly black-ops teams, and by that I mean the blackest of the black, the motherfuckers who most don’t even know exist—at least not on paper or until they show themselves, which usually only happens when you’re as good as dead. I know I can entrust this to one of my oldest friends and it'll get done. What worries me is the fact that Remy was so badly off.

  “What did they give her?”

  Brick grimaces and casts a look at one of his men, a blond named Hensley who has the deadest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.

  “They gave her…a very strong anesthetic to knock her out, and then injected her with a high-grade heroine, meth mix. You’re lucky she’s still alive, man. She should have stroked out from the dose alone. The doctors say they can only presume that the two drugs had a small neutralizing effect on each other, so it hindered respiratory failure.”

  “She could have died?”

  My heart almost hits clear through my ribs at the news and I feel my legs weaken at the thought that, if not for these men, I could even now still be searching, or worse, identifying, the body of the woman I…care for.

  “No. She should have,” he says clearly, his eyes going even colder if that is even possible. “Whoever did this wanted her dead. Liv was a tool, a warning. Your girl was not supposed to walk out of that warehouse, and if I’m being honest, once the culprit finds out she’s alive, I have no doubt they’ll try again.”

  Fury. It’s all I feel as I watch Gabe stand and meet my eyes, his message clear before turning and slipping quietly into the room, his hands clenching at his sides to control the anger I know he feels.

  “What’s the plan?”

  Brick smiles slowly and cracks his knuckles. The other men I see are smiling just as savagely and I feel my own face crack into a snarl.

  “We’ll find the goons. With enough…incentive, they should give up a name and then, well, we cut the head off the snake.”

  Translation: someone will die, painfully, for this.

  “Mine,” I growl, looking each of them in the eye, my own gaze as cold and hard as any of theirs.

  I’m not military, and I may not be as badass as these guys, but I am no pansy. I fucking cage fight as a hobby and know ten ways to kill a man with my fist, never mind any other part of my body. I can and will do what I must to protect what’s mine.

  “We get to rough up the two heavies at least?” Henley growls, looking put-out as all hell at the loss of the head honcho.

  “Rough, not dead. I need to throw Gabe something or the guy will go fucking postal.”

  They nod and go silent, the subject dead as we wait for someone to tell us if Remy made it through surgery. I know one thing; they’ll die if she doesn’t.

  Who am I kidding? They’ll die anyway.

  Chapter 16

  Remy

  “Ow.”

  I hear a clamor and grimace at the sounds of Liv sniping at someone. The woman gets shrill when she’s annoyed, I can tell you that much. And I’m not feeling it since I’m struggling to wake up despite Thor’s hammer having a go at the inside of my skull.

  Not to mention the very unpleasant burning sensation I feel below the equator in the region of my vagina.

  “Stop, Liv.”

  Gabe. That sounds like Gabe snapping at Liv, and for a brief second I wonder what his deal is before everything comes streaming back in nightmarish images of fear, pain and finally the acceptance that I would die.

  “Remy? Babe? Open your eyes my darling.”

  I hear that husky murmur and feel a smile touch my lips, almost curling the corners. That accent—not quite British, not quite American—still has the power to send tingles to my bits, burning sensation or not.

  “Thirsty,” I whisper, my eyes still closed because, as aware as I am, they just won’t cooperate and open no matter how hard I try.

  “Okay, babe. I’m putting the straw in your mouth. Slow, babe,” he croons, letting me drink my fill before wiping at the water that dribbles out and down my chin.

  No wait, that’s not a napkin.

  He’s kissing the water away, softly murmuring to me, telling me how much he needs me, cherishes me, as he patiently waits for me to open my eyes.

  By the time I slowly raise my lids, blinking rapidly to clear my vision, I already know lots: that Chase has already moved all my stuff into his house, and that Gabe has taken Liv’s stuff to his place.

  Oh, and apparently I’ll be going on a leave of absence, already approved by the mayor himself until Chase is completely convinced that I am safe. Liv too, but that is Gabe’s cross to bear.

  Am I annoyed that my whole life has once again been ordered for me according to what a man wants? Not even one iota, because while I had successfully stopped myself from thinking of Chase while those animals had Liv and me, I admit that I’d raged at the thought of never seeing him again.

  Never looking into his strangely beautiful eyes, never kissing his lips or holding him. Okay, and maybe I’d also reeeeaally miss the sex, ‘cause far as I know, you can’t do that stuff in heaven.

  Where I was going? Definitely—I think…hope.

  Hell, I should probably give a shoutout to church sometime for this miracle.

  “Hey there, darling.”

  I blink and grin when I see Chase smiling down at me, his eyes a mixture of gentleness and a fierce intensity I know he doesn’t mean for me to see. No, we’re not on the ‘love train’ as yet. It’s way too soon to even be thinking love, never mind saying it, but I
know that he truly cares for me and that my getting hurt and almost croaking is not sitting well with him.

  “Hey, Money Bags,” I tease, seeing him grin before his eyes narrow.

  He loves the nickname as much as he hates it and always laughs when I say it in a singsong voice.

  “You feeling okay?”

  I nod only because if I tell him how shitty I feel, he’ll have the doctors and nurses in here medicating me and I don’t want that, not so soon after that horrifying experience of not having any control over my body.

  I doubt I’ll even take aspirin after this.

  Or not, since my leg then makes its state known and I remember why it feels like my bone is shattered—because it is.

  “What happened?”

  I look away from him to see Liv glaring down at me. Gabe is there smiling slightly, looking all kinds of relieved. And there are five other men, all freakishly huge, smiling at me with affection.

  “This crazy woman dragged you out of there with a broken arm and a whole lot of determination. We found you, but I’m pretty sure she’d have saved you anyway since it looked like she was getting ready to throw you over her shoulders and powerwalk to get you help.”

  The man who says this is massive, and hot in that dangerous way that I think military guys have and, wowza, with that dark brown hair and steely gray gaze, I’m practically drooling. And I’m not even getting started on the other four hunks of hotness behind him. My jaw is on my chest as I lay there and just take them all in.

  “Wow.”

  “I know right?” Liv cooes, giving them all the once over and turning to me with big eyes. “Girl, when I saw these five coming my way I just about forgot my arm was broken and you were two breaths away from death. Major man candy!”

  Gabe grumbles and pulls her close, his eyes blazing at the men, and I hear a distinctly inhuman sound coming from Chase the longer I stare.

  The men chuckle and come forward and introduce themselves one at a time, all taking my hand, kissing my cheek or forehead, or in the case of the blond, kissing my hand and totally ignoring Chase’s grousing.

  “Babe,” he barks, stepping into my line of sight, his brow furrowed.

  “Sorry? Who are they?”

  “The big fucker to your left, Brick, is an old friend. The rest of the men are his team. The men I called as soon as I realized that you were missing. They tracked you and Liv and got there just in time to have you airlifted here.”

  He pauses and swallows, his jaw ticking so hard I hear his teeth grinding.

  “Bad, huh?” I say sympathetically, lifting a hand to stroke his stubbled jaw and bring him down for a kiss.

  He takes my lips hard with more urgency and possession than necessary, and I almost giggle when he pulls back and throws a glare behind him.

  What a caveman.

  I indulge Liv and hug her and let her chatter till I feel my eyeballs water from the headache boring into my skull. I’m just really glad that I am still alive to hear her babbling. It’s a nervous habit of hers. A trait that I’m not too familiar with since Liv so rarely had the need to feel nervous.

  I let her talk until the guys are rolling their eyes and Chase is practically hopping with impatience.

  “Liv, I think Remy needs some rest, her eyes look about ready to burn out here.”

  “Oh! Sorry,” she murmurs, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. “I’m just so happy you didn’t kick it, Rem bear. I thought I lost you when I couldn’t see you breathing and—”

  Gabe picks her up when she starts choking up and throws me a wink.

  “Glad you’re okay, Rem. Get some rest, I’ll bring dynamo back in the morning.”

  They all clear out eventually, the really huge one taking up position outside the door, just daring a soul to try anything. It makes me feel secure, safe and relaxed enough to close my eyes for a minute.

  “Those guys…they were working for someone, weren’t they?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed when the pain subsides a little.

  The bed dips and I feel a cold cloth settle over my forehead and eyes, my groan of appreciation making him chuckle and sweep his fingers over my cheeks.

  “They were just muscle.”

  His voice is tense and I lift one corner of the cloth and crack an eye, my lips twisting at his guilt-filled expression. For some reason, he’s blaming himself. No matter what, why, or how happened or even if they happen again, I blame only those responsible and I refuse to let him feel differently.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Please. I’m just glad to have made it out and to be with you again. I don’t want you to blame yourself instead of concentrating on us. Together. Healthy.”

  He swipes a gentle finger over my eye and lowers the cloth.

  “We don’t know who did this yet and Brick and his team are going to track the men who took you and Liv, but I swear to you, I will find everyone responsible and—”

  “Call the cops.” I intone, huffing when he swats my hand away from the cloth and kisses me to shut me up.

  “Hush. What happens to them is not your concern. Just get better so I can take you home,” he murmurs, kissing me again, this time with a little tongue.

  It doesn’t escape me that while he’s furious about the circumstances, Chase is also very satisfied to be getting his way. I’m moving in with him, and I highly doubt that I will move out again anytime soon—if ever.

  “Thank you for saving me, Chase. I wish you were there before.” I breathe sleepily, my words slurred as I start drifting off.

  “Me too, babe.”

  Chapter 17

  Remy

  “Stop. I can do it.” I hiss, closing my eyes and breathing deeply when Chase just ignores me and picks me up to lower me into the bathtub. “Chase, hon, you’re really going to have to cool it with this overprotective stuff. You haven’t been to work in four days, not counting my time in the hospital, and quite frankly you’re driving me nuts.”

  He glares and I glare right back before a giggle bubbles forth. I cover my mouth to stop the sound but he hears it and narrows his eyes at me, his mouth thinning.

  “The doctors had to put three pins in your leg and drain your knee. You’re not hobbling around on that till the cast comes off. End of fucking story, Remy.”

  “But…”

  Okay, so maybe I’m being pissy, but I’m still smarting from the realization that the burning sensation that I’d woken with first day in the hospital was in fact one of those monstrous tubes they shove up your pee hole, and that the bag that collects said pee was hanging in Chase’s view the whole time.

  Not only do I now have to live down my boyfriend giving me a sponge bath—humiliating—but he watched as the nurse removed that tube as well. I can honestly say after that I don’t feel an ounce of embarrassment about my body anymore.

  He’s seen the absolute worst already.

  “This is still about that bloody—”

  “Don’t even say it Marshall,” I warn, sinking into the bath water with a huff. “That never, ever happened.”

  My eyes are closed but I distinctly hear a muffed chuckle before he shuffles over to the toilet and sits, his usual ritual since he’s paranoid about leaving me in the tub alone.

  I fell asleep one time and he’s never gonna forget it!

  And don’t even get me started on the rest of it. He won’t have sex with me, he tries to carry me around everywhere, totally ignoring the crutches the doc gave me—and he tried to spoon-feed me this morning!

  He’s being a smothering mother hen and monitors my every move. He even tried to help me wipe yesterday because…well, God alone knows why, but he tried. I had to threaten him with bodily harm before he backed off.

  Have I mentioned he won’t have sex with me?

  So maybe I’m a little fixated on that one topic, but my period is coming up and my window of opportunity is closing, fast. Plus, I am really horny right now. And who can blame me?

  The man sleeps with me smashed to his ch
est, his arms securely fastened around me like tentacles, and he does not wake up flaccid—ever.

  You try sleeping with a hot piece of man flesh—his boner poking at your clit as if the poor darling is seeking refuge. I’m frustrated and so needy that I flat out yelled at him about it this morning.

  Know what he did? Nothing. He pecked my lips and rolled out of bed without a word. Went to the bathroom and then went to make me breakfast.

  I hadn’t gotten laid, or even a good, stress relieving fight. Nada.

  And now he wants to sit in the bathroom watching me bathe and start tenting his pants, all the while denying me? Dammit, it isn’t fair, I whine silently, doing a mental foot stamp.

  “Stop sulking.”

  I open one lid and stare at him stonily, noting the way his eyes follow my hands as they skim over my belly and over my breast, grazing my already pebbled nipples.

  His tongue comes out to lick at his lips and I almost moan with need when his teeth sink into the soft flesh of his bottom lip and bite down hard, his eyes drooping.

  Ah, finally! Lust.

  “Hey, Chase? So you know how you won’t have sex with me for like, ever?” I ask, purring softly when he swallows and his teeth go back to his lips before he manages to drag his eyes away from my hands and breasts.

  “Huh?”

  “I said…you know how you won’t have sex with me for ages and ages because you’re being stubborn?”

  He swallows and nods, his eyes firing two different shades of blazing heat at me.

  “Well, the doctor never said a thing about not having sex solo. So far as I can figure, if you’re going to continue torturing me by holding out, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

  I force my voice to sound regretful even though I’m almost bursting with mirth. Typical man. I mention masturbation and his eyes flare and so do those nostrils of his. And God have mercy, that mouth.

  He’s licking his lips and staring at my naked form, just beneath the surface of the water, as if he’s imagining—

  “Don’t.”

  My right hand halts it’s progression down the line of my flat stomach, pausing right above my pubic bone. My fingers flex, itching to hit their target and I almost moan when his fingers mimic my actions before closing into a white-knuckled fist.

 

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