Rev It Up

by Julie Ann Walker

  “It’s, uh…it’s…” She didn’t finish. Mostly because she’d already forgotten the question. Oh, the look on Jake’s face…

  “Shell,” he said, his jaw working like a rock grinder. “I need to talk to you out in the hall.”

  “What’s up?” Frank asked.

  Jake jerked his chin to the side. “I just need to talk to Shell.” His voice sounded like it’d been scoured with 24-grit sandpaper.

  It was time, as they say, to face the music. She’d hoped and prayed this day would never come, but a large part of her had always feared it would.

  Her brother glanced at her concernedly, and she tried to smile and reassure him. But it must’ve looked a bit sickly, because he only scowled harder.

  “Shell? What—” She shook her head, waving away whatever question he might’ve asked as she stood to follow Jake into the wide, tiled hall.

  Oh, sweet Lord. Her worst nightmares revolved around what was about to happen right this very minute, right this very second.

  With her stomach hanging down to her knees, her heart perched dead center in the middle of her throat, and her head floating up around the ceiling somewhere, it was a wonder she could function at all. But somehow she managed to take a deep breath and face him.

  “Th-thank you for donating blood,” she whispered, hoping to put off the inevitable for a few seconds longer.

  “Who is Franklin’s father?” he demanded, his eyes searing into her.

  Her heart moved from her throat to her skull, pounding in her temples like the entire percussion section of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

  “W-who do you think?” she stammered through a throat which, now empty of her heart, was swelling with unshed tears.

  “I have no idea!” he hissed. “It sure as hell isn’t Preacher. He was a universal donor. Blood type O negative. I know because he was supposed to be our go-to guy for battlefield transfusions. And since you’re type A, there’s no way the two of you could’ve produced an AB son.”

  “You’re right,” she told him as the hall started closing in around her.

  He blinked. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

  “I—” she began and then had to swallow. Her entire world, the world she’d finally managed to build for herself, the world she’d finally managed to build for her son, was crashing down around her ears. “I made the best decision I could at the time, Jake. I made the decision I thought was right for my child. What more do you want me to say?”

  “I want you to tell me who the hell Franklin’s father is!” he demanded, nostrils flaring like an angry bull’s. The nurse manning the station at the far end of the hall glanced up, her brow furrowed. “Because before you hooked up with Preacher,” he lowered his voice, “I thought I was the only man in your life. I guess I was wrong, huh?” His expression turned ugly. “And then you married Preacher under the pretense of carrying his child and—”

  “Steven knew the baby wasn’t his,” she interrupted sadly, even as she tried to grasp the fact that he really hadn’t put two and two together. It seemed impossible…

  “And he agreed to marry you anyway?” he asked incredulously.

  “Steven was a sweet, loyal, honorable man. If there was someone in need or in trouble, he was the first to lend a hand. I was both. In need and in trouble.” And she desperately missed her husband, her friend, during times like this when she needed a strong shoulder to lean on.

  Steven had been her rock, her savior, and he’d deserved so much more than she’d been able to give him. Oh, she’d loved him, there was no doubt about that. But it was the kind of love she’d felt for many of the boys in Bravo Platoon. And then he’d died before she got the chance to give him her whole heart…

  God, he was worthy of so much more…

  And that was one of her biggest regrets in what was turning out to be a very long list of regrets.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jake scoffed. “We all know Preacher was a saint. But that doesn’t answer the question of who Franklin’s father really is.”

  She lifted her eyes to his angry face, sadness and regret and…yes, guilt threatening to crush everything inside her. “You really can’t guess?”

  “Well, it wasn’t Preacher, and it certainly wasn’t me so—”

  “Of course it’s you, Jake. Who else would it be?”

  His chin jerked back like she’d slugged him. “But…but…” He shook his head. “That’s impossible! We never—”

  “Didn’t we?” she asked. “Think back to that night at the Clover. I know you were pretty drunk, but surely you remember at least some of what happened.”

  ***

  Remember some of what happened?

  For fuck’s sake, Jake remembered it like it was yesterday…

  She was a bright, burning flame in his arms when he pulled her into the restroom. Scorching him down to his soul. Climbing all over him. Her hands, everywhere. Her mouth, hot and hungry.

  His body was absolutely rigid with pleasure as he shoved her back against the wall. And she laughed, low and sexy in that way she had, wrapping her beautiful, mile-long legs around his hips.

  When her skirt slid up around her waist, he felt the sultry heat of her sex through the thin, lace panties she wore. He felt it all the way through the tough denim of his jeans as his pounding erection settled into place.

  “Shell, Shell,” he chanted her name over and over again, plying her mouth with his tongue, everything inside him warring with itself. He wanted this so much but…

  “Jake,” she breathed in his ear. “Take me. Right here. Right now.”

  And that was it. All thoughts, save her, her soft cries and hot tongue and grasping hands, flew from his head.

  He groaned when she eagerly bit the side of his neck. Managing to snake an arm down between their bodies, he pushed aside the elastic of her panties, slipped his thumb between her plump female lips and…

  Hot.

  She was so damned hot, burning his skin.

  And wet.

  She was so wet, slick and ready.

  He plunged one finger inside her tight sheath and pulled back to watch her gorgeous eyes drift shut. A deep blush stole up her neck and burned in her cheeks as he pressed his thumb against the hard knot of nerves at the top of her sex and circled slowly.

  “Oh, wow,” she whispered and he thought, Oh, wow is right.

  Because she was everything a woman was supposed to be. Lush and lusty. Sweet and sensuous. And she was his. His for the taking. His for the fucking. His. His. His. The monster that’d grown inside him over the last few months roared with pleasure.

  And he knew this was the last thing he should be doing. Because as soon as she saw what he’d become she’d—

  “I’m going to come,” she announced throatily and, once again, all thought fled as he added a second finger to the first and stroked her deeply even as he increased the rhythm of his thumb against that sweet little knot of nerves.

  Oh, come for me. He wanted it so bad, more than his next breath.

  It was a primal desire. A primitive need to possess, mark, mate, claim.

  He’d never experienced anything like it. That animalistic drive. And he feared it was the beast slipping loose of its chains making him feel this way.

  He felt her inner muscles squeeze his fingers, a hard pulse that nearly had him coming in his jeans. But he gritted his teeth and worked her, endlessly sucking her tongue as his fingers pumped, as his thumb circled and pressed, circled and pressed, until her soft gasps turned to muted cries, until she keened his name and unraveled in his arms.

  “Oh, Jake,” she breathed in his ear, and then all he could think was that he wanted inside her.

  Now.

  He fumbled with his fly and, when his erection sprang free, it pulsed so hard he saw stars.

  Damn, this is getting ridiculous! He needed to get inside her, and fast, because he was about to embarrass himself like a randy sixteen-year-old getting his first hand-job.


  Tugging the leg of her panties aside, he pushed into her…

  And it was like coming home, but to no home he’d ever known. Because it was right in a way he’d never thought possible. So fucking right. He’d been searching for this, just this, his entire life, and now he’d finally found it. This woman. This moment…

  When he pulled back to plunge into her again, to seal them indelibly, she groaned and whispered, “Do you have a condom?”

  It was then that reality came tumbling down around him…

  He glanced at her now, at the tight expression on her face made harsh by the bright overhead lights in the hospital hallway. “I didn’t come,” he blurted.

  He remembered that very clearly. She’d asked if he had a condom, and he’d come to his senses. He’d pulled out of her, shoved his raging cock back in his jeans, wrangled the demon inside him who’d howled with fury, and marched her straight out of the bathroom and into Preacher’s arms.

  “Yeah.” Her expression was stricken. “I guess you didn’t have to.”

  “But—” he shook his head.

  “You know all those warnings about applying the condom before making any type of sexual contact?” she asked, swallowing convulsively, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Well, I’m the walking, talking, cautionary tale as to why that’s so important.”

  He couldn’t comprehend. Was she saying Franklin was his son?

  No.

  No, it wasn’t possible.

  She couldn’t have done this to him. Boss couldn’t have done this to him.

  “Are you telling me…” he shook his head again, his chest caught in a vice as tight as the one squeezing his brain. “What are you telling me?”

  He had to be confused. He had to have misunderstood.

  “I’m telling you Franklin is your son, Jake. He’s yours.”

  And with those words, the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

  “And you’re just now telling me?” he demanded, clenching his fists as his throat filled with unspoken screams of no, no, no. This can’t be real!

  He still didn’t want to believe…

  “I tried to—”

  He stopped listening as a deep red haze fell over his vision. He turned and marched into the waiting room, no longer thinking, just acting. Total tunnel vision.

  He’d been deceived. By the woman he loved and the best friend he trusted.

  And since he couldn’t take his fury out on Shell…

  He stalked right up to Boss, who was sitting on the sofa. After catching the look on his face, Boss’s brow creased in a series of deep furrows, the scar slicing up from the corner of his mouth going stark white.

  “Snake?” he asked. “What’s up, man?”

  “How could you?” Jake roared, choking as stupid, stupid tears filled his eyes. “How could you do that to me?”

  “Jake.” Shell grabbed his arm, but he yanked free of her grasp and went toe-to-toe with Boss, who’d quickly pushed up from the sofa.

  “How could you keep something like that from me all these years?” His head was packed with C4, ready to explode at any second. And then a thought occurred to him… “That’s why you were so quick to try to help me with Shell, wasn’t it?” he snarled. “Not because I’m a good man, like you claimed, but because it’d wrap everything up so nice and neat. One sweet, fucking family unit!”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Boss yelled right back.

  “Hey guys,” Becky tried to interrupt, but Jake plowed right over her.

  “I’m talking about the fact that Franklin is my son. He’s mine, and you didn’t have the decency to tell me!”

  “Franklin isn’t yours,” Boss scoffed, and Jake’s fingers clenched into fists. “He’s Preacher’s.”

  “The goddamned cat is out of the bag!” he screamed, angrily dashing away the tear that had the audacity to slip down his cheek. “The blood types don’t match. I know I don’t have a PhD in biology, but I’m not a moron either. Did you expect that fact to just slip by me?”

  “Franklin is…” Boss shook his head and glanced over at Shell who was biting her lush bottom lip and wringing her hands as tears coursed, unchecked, down her cheeks.

  “Frank didn’t know any—” she began as realization dawned on Boss’s face, realization quickly followed by rage.

  Well, good. Now we’re both on the same goddamned page!

  One minute he was glaring at his former CO, the next instant his head snapped back on his neck as pain exploded like a frag grenade in his jaw.

  Boss might be big and clumsy-looking, but the sonofabitch had reflexes like a cat. Evidenced by the fact that Jake hadn’t seen the left hook coming.

  “You swore you wouldn’t touch her unless you planned to make it legit!” Boss thundered, taking advantage of Jake’s momentary astonishment to plant a hard palm in the center of his chest and shove him across the room. It was like being hit with a two-ton wrecking ball, and he tripped over a chair, sprawling on his ass.

  Glancing up in time to see Boss steaming toward him like a freight train, the hand raised in the air by that bright blue cast clenched in a big, meaty fist, he scrambled to his feet and assumed the standard bent-knee stance, ready to absorb the kinetic energy of one very pissed off, 245-pound man. Then Becky suddenly launched herself onto Boss’s back, clinging to him like a feisty blond monkey. She screamed something in Boss’s ear that Jake couldn’t understand, but whatever it was, Boss stopped dead in his tracks.

  His face was a thundercloud, his chest working like bellows, but he no longer looked ready and willing to kill Jake on the spot.

  It was at that point that Shell stepped into the breach. “Frank didn’t know anything about it,” she said, wiping at her tears with a trembling hand. And yeah, now that the killing rage was waning and cognition returning, Jake was beginning to clue in to that salient little fact. “No one knew but Steven. And he took my secret to his grave.”

  She hiccupped, glancing around the room at the shocked faces before shakily lowering herself into a chair. She covered her eyes with her hands as her shoulders heaved, but no sound escaped her lips. Which was more awful than if she’d been blubbering.

  But no matter how hard he looked inside himself, Jake couldn’t seem to find any sympathy for her. His heart, once so full of love, felt like a giant void.

  Several seconds passed where no one moved or dared to breathe. It was a real pin-drop atmosphere. And now that his adrenaline was wearing off, his jaw felt like it was sitting on the side of his head.

  Word up, Boss packed one helluva punch. He wouldn’t be chewing right for the next month.

  Lifting a hand, he checked to make sure that, yes, his lower mandible was still located on the front of his head.

  “Why, Shell?” Boss finally asked, taking a step toward her.

  Yeah, Jake wanted to know the answer to that question himself. Not that it really mattered, since there was no explanation she could give that could possibly justify her actions…

  Shell just shook her head, stopping Boss from taking another step. The big guy frowned, his face so full of pain and shock and betrayal that Jake couldn’t imagine what he must look like.

  “Okay,” Boss said, nodding jerkily. “Okay. We’ll talk about this later.”

  What the fuck ever! Jake wanted an explanation now. Like, right now!

  And he opened his mouth to demand just that at the same time Boss glanced over his shoulder at Becky, who was still attached to his back. “You gonna stay back there all night?”

  “You gonna do another Mike Tyson impression?” she countered.

  “I’ve got it under control,” he told her. But before she could climb down and Jake could demand his explanation, Nurse Susan reappeared in the open doorway.

  “Well, it seems we didn’t need your blood after all, Jake,” she said, her face wreathed in smiles before she caught a glimpse of Becky and Boss and raised a brow, frowning. She shook her head and turned to Shell. “You’ll be happy to kno
w that your son’s appendix didn’t rupture. The surgeon was able to cut away the adhesions and remove it cleanly, so we don’t foresee any future problems. Franklin is in recovery. You should be able to go see him in about fifteen minutes. And if all goes well, you can take him home tomorrow evening.”

  “T-tomorrow evening?” Shell sputtered, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. “So soon?”

  “Laparoscopic surgery doesn’t require a long hospital stay. And Franklin will heal faster at home, provided you keep him from getting too boisterous.”

  “I’ll tie him to the bed if I have to,” she promised, her voice thick with emotion. “And thank you.” She smiled shakily at the nurse before turning to stare at Jake beseechingly.

  What did she want from him?

  Forgiveness?

  No way. He’d always considered himself an easy-going guy. He wasn’t one to hold a grudge. But if she thought he would just say, That’s okay, Shell. It’s no problem that you hid my kid from me, she had another thing coming.

  Three years.

  He’d had a son for three years. And because of her duplicity, her selfishness, he’d missed that first step, that first word, that first…everything.

  And in that moment, he understood why people said love and hate were two sides of the same coin, because the void that’d become his heart filled up once more.

  And this new emotion certainly wasn’t love. Although it burned just as brightly…

  Chapter Thirteen

  Johnny stomped down the stairs of the town house, the very empty town house, with a frown on his face.

  All the lights were on, a fire crackled in the fireplace, the TV was blaring a rerun of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, the refrigerator door stood wide open, and the security system hadn’t been armed—which accounted for his easy entrance into the place.