Sugar and Sin Bundle

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  Before she hit the ground, Rémi caught her around the waist and pulled her back to his front. Even though she couldn’t make out the words he was speaking to her, she could feel the comforting rumble in his chest.

  Someone had blown up her car. Someone had tried to kill her. Someone who might still be watching.

  She turned in Rémi’s arms to warn him, but there was no need. He was already scanning the area, peering at every face, every truck, every car.

  Within minutes, the street filled with emergency personnel. He dropped his arms from around her and stepped back. As she was about to protest, he pointed to a fire truck turning into the parking lot. Behind it, lights flashing—siren blaring?—an SQ car pulled up.

  Damn! Her eyes burned and she had to blink a few times to stop the tears from falling. She didn’t need cops right now. She just needed Rémi. Just needed to be held against his heart, to hear its steady rhythm. To forget about the present, just for a little while longer.

  Rémi’s fingers skimmed her lower back and he bent his knees to study her face, concern etched on his own. “Are you okay?” he mouthed.

  She pinched her nose and blew hard, hoping to pop her ears. Rémi’s frown deepened. She pointed to her ears. “Everything sounds like I’m under water.”

  Immediately, he waved and shouted, catching the attention of a paramedic. A tall thin man rushed over. Rémi pointed to her and said something. The man moved to examine Rémi’s back and that’s when she saw the darkened spots on his shirt. Her hand flew to her mouth and her stomach cramped. He’d been injured protecting her!

  Blood seeped from several wounds in his back where fragments of glass from the broken windows had dug into his skin. Each piece would need to be removed.

  Rémi tugged on her arm, pulling her forward. He exchanged a few words with the paramedic, indicating her ears as well as the wound on her calf. The paramedic wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and tried to lead her to the ambulance waiting by the curb. She resisted and grabbed Rémi’s arm. “I’m not going without him. He needs treatment far more than I do.”

  Rémi twisted his wrist to unlatch her hand and headed toward the SQ vehicle where Lieutenant Gauthier was climbing out. Either she hadn’t spoken loud enough, or Rémi was ignoring her. She raced after him, skidding to a stop when Captain Landry opened the passenger door and stepped out of the vehicle.

  Landry eyed Rémi, then swung his gaze to her and arched a brow. All the blood drained from her head and she had to lean on the closest car before she met the asphalt in an intimate face-to-face. The paramedic rushed up to her, trying once again to lead her to the ambulance. Not wanting to deal with Landry and his bullshit, she let him.

  From her perch on the gurney inside the ambulance, she observed the paramedics helping clients and staff of the motel who’d received injuries. Most only had minor cuts, quickly dealt with. Rémi’s would need more care.

  Drawn to Rémi as if by instinct, she sought him out. His stance was rigid as he spoke with her bosses, pointing through the smoke to her still-smoldering car. Gauthier nodded, writing in his notebook while Landry kept his gaze on Rémi’s face, never changing his stern expression. She knew it was meant to intimidate. But Landry may have met his match. She smiled. Her man didn’t intimidate easily.

  Her heart squeezed painfully and she pressed a hand to her chest. Her man. Oh God. She wanted Rémi to be her man. She really did. But how could a relationship between them work? She was still white—always would be—still worked for the SQ, and Rémi was still a member of the community her squad would be policing. He might even be a member of the squad. As she’d told him before, they were fucked.

  The three men approached the ambulance. Landry said something to the paramedic. He dipped his head and started to close the doors. Lunging forward, she blocked them. Rémi grabbed the door handles, preventing them from closing on her. She looked up at him. “I’m not going without you.”

  He closed his eyes briefly, then jumped up and sat on the bench running along the inside of the ambulance. The second paramedic climbed up and sat on the opposite bench. The doors swung shut while Gauthier and Landry looked on. Relieved to be away from them both, she lay back on the gurney and noticed Rémi rubbing his forehead. All that glass in his back had to be hurting. But what about the rest of him?

  She jackknifed on the narrow gurney. “Rémi! Is your ass okay?”

  He jerked his head up, his expression startled. Then he grinned and said something. But her hearing was still muffled, and she could only make out a few of the words. She reached for his hand, pulling him face forward on the gurney as she scooted to sit on the bench beside the paramedic. Several pieces of debris were stuck in the seat of his jeans and along his legs. A large piece of glass was even dangerously close to his… She edged it with her fingers. “Does it hurt?”

  He lifted his head from where he was resting it on his forearms and raised a brow. She continued to run her fingers around the piece of glass. When she noticed a distinct swelling along the inside seam of his pants, she snatched her hand back. She glanced toward the paramedic and caught his grin. Heat burned her cheeks. Crap. She’d practically fondled him in front of an audience. So much for keeping things on the QT.

  Rémi’s shoulders shook and she could have sworn he was laughing. But when she looked at his face, he was watching her, longing on his face. He stretched his hand to her and she clasped it.

  Life was too damn short. Over in the blink of an eye. She’d learned that today. And if they were alone, she’d show him exactly how much he meant to her. As if reading her expression, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers, smiling slightly.

  All too soon, the ambulance stopped in front of the hospital emergency department and the events of the past day came back to her in a rush. Rémi squeezed her hand and mouthed, “It will be all right.”

  The paramedics pulled Rémi’s gurney out. When she climbed down, they sat her in a wheelchair despite her protests. While Rémi was taken to a treatment room, she was taken to triage. His injuries were definitely more worrisome than hers. Things could turn serious very quickly if they nicked a vein or artery while removing the large shard embedded in his thigh.

  A nurse spoke to her as she extracted the glass from her calf and bandaged it. Alyssa pointed to her head. “My ears are blocked.” Nodding, the nurse picked up the phone.

  Five minutes later, a male doctor entered the room. Enunciating carefully, introduced himself and handed her his card: Dr. Taylor—ear, nose, and throat specialist.

  He examined her ears, then pulled a small box from a cabinet on the far wall, and opened it. After putting two drops in each ear, he handed her the bottle. On a piece of paper, he wrote instructions for her to apply the antibiotic drops four times a day for ten days as a preventative measure. Her hearing should be returning to normal by evening. Alyssa thanked the doctor and walked into the hall to wait for Rémi.

  But the doors to the treatments rooms called to her. She hated not knowing what was going on with him. Edging closer to the doors, she waited, and when an orderly came barreling through, she peered inside. In a room diagonally across the corridor, she spotted Rémi. His foot actually. And his bare calf. Yeah, yeah, but how many guys had such gorgeous legs? She’d recognize them anywhere.

  She glanced around and, when she didn’t see anyone watching, darted through the double doors. His head popped off his arms as soon as she entered the room. Lying on his stomach, he was naked except for a thin sheet draped across his butt. The cuts in his legs had been cleaned and the wound in his thigh sutured. The nurse was bandaging the larger cuts on his back. Goosebumps chased each other on her arms when he smiled at her. “How are you?”

  Her heart almost broke. More warbling. She wanted—needed—to hear his sexy, throaty voice. “Leg’s fine. Hearing’s still muffled, but the doctor says these should help.” She held up the bottle of ear drops. Was she whispering or screaming? She had no clue.

&nb
sp; Rémi grinned and reached for her hand. She moved closer and cupped it between hers. That’s when she noticed the nurse shooting poisoned darts at her behind Rémi’s back. She stroked his forehead and offered the woman her sweetest smile.

  Too bad, so sad. But this man was hers. At least for now.

  Rémi caught the look Alyssa cast the nurse’s way and couldn’t hide the satisfied grin he knew was plastered on his face. His lioness had teeth and claws. So fierce. So fucking hot. But it was more than her body he wanted. So much more.

  He’d almost lost her.

  The truth hit him like a car-sized hunk of flaming shrapnel. Alyssa would be dead if she’d sat in her car. She’d be dead if she hadn’t chased after him. Hell, she’d be dead if the bomber had been a little smarter and used more explosive.

  He needed to hold her in his arms, to reassure himself she was really here. Safe. “Leave us,” he said to the nurse as he pushed off the gurney.

  “But sir, I’m not finished.”

  “You’re just playing now. You pulled the last piece out five minutes ago.”

  The blush coloring the nurse’s face told him his hunch had been right. With one last glare at Alyssa, the nurse hurried out.

  They were alone. Finally.

  He gathered up the sheet and, sitting on the edge of the gurney, pulled her closer. His fingers traced her cheeks, her chin, the rims of her ears. He massaged the area slightly in front of her ears, at the apex of her jaw, rubbing his fingers in small circles. A few times, he’d administered eardrops to children with ear infections, and this always seemed to help the medicine soak in and act faster. She moaned and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  He turned her around and slid his hands down her leg to her calf and examined the bandage. No blood was seeping through. Relieved, he ran his hands up her other leg, and over her backside. No injuries. Of course he knew that, seeing as she had no other holes in her slacks, but he was enjoying the glide of the material over her sexy curves too much to stop.

  Alyssa looked at him over her shoulder, a knowing expression in her eyes. He grinned, and she returned it before twisting in his arms and winding her fingers into his hair. “I was so worried about you.”

  His feelings were too confused, too intense to voice, even if he could make sense of them. And she wouldn’t hear them anyways. Instead, he tightened his hold and brought his mouth down to hers in a crushing kiss. If he seemed almost desperate, it’s because he was.

  He’d almost lost her.

  Maybe he’d never let her go again. He shouldn’t be thinking this way, but after what happened with Ellie last night and what almost happened today to Alyssa, he wasn’t thinking straight. And he didn’t care. This was what he needed right now. She was what he needed.

  A rustling sound and a not-so discreet cough came from the door to the treatment room. Thinking it was the nurse again, he held up his hand and waved her off.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Whitedeer. I’d like to speak with Sergeant Morgan. If you don’t mind.”

  He jerked his head up, meeting Lieutenant Gauthier’s stare. Alyssa squeezed his arm. “What’s wrong?”

  Of course. She hadn’t heard her boss arrive. With his finger, he touched her nose lightly and motioned for her to turn around.

  A frown between her beautiful blonde brows, she complied. Her knees wobbled as she saw Gauthier standing in the doorway. Rémi steadied her with his hands at her waist. She took a deep breath, then stepped away. If her aim had been to keep their relationship secret from the SQ, they’d just failed miserably. He waited to see what tactic she was going to take. Would she admit it or lie through her teeth?

  She grimaced and rubbed her ears. Then a smile broke out across her face. “Oh my God. My ears popped.” Looking at Gauthier, she added, “Say something.”

  Rémi wanted to smile. Vintage Alyssa. Who else could so masterfully avoid the elephant trampling everything in sight?

  Gauthier indulged her. “Hello, Sergeant Morgan.”

  She seemed a bit puzzled, as if she were trying to work out his simple statement. “I definitely heard you, but you sounded like an un-tuned radio.”

  Gauthier’s gaze cut to Rémi. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s got some ear blast injuries. But she’s already hearing better than before.” And her speech volume wasn’t alternating between shouts and whispers anymore, which was another good sign. The enormity of the relief warming his chest surprised him.

  Alyssa checked her watch and tapped his arm. “Don’t you need to be at the Longhouse? Get ready for Ellie’s funeral?”

  The funeral ceremony, which began with the retrieval of the spirit at the skatepark, would be starting soon. But could he leave Alyssa, right now? He didn’t like the idea of her being alone. Martha had honored him by letting him be the speaker for the bereaved clan, but she’d understand if he missed this part. Not only were the circumstances extreme, Martha and Alyssa had become friends.

  But this wasn’t about him or Alyssa. Or even Martha. This was about Ellie. He hadn’t protected her when she was alive, but he’d sure as shit protect her in death.

  Ellie’s spirit would go to the Sky World, even if he had to hand-deliver her there.

  After Rémi raced out of the hospital in scrubs provided by Nurse Naughty Hands, Gauthier crossed his arms and stroked his chin. “Morgan, when I walked into Mr. Whitedeer’s room, you two appeared… close. I don’t think I need to remind you that you represent the SQ on this task force and that some might consider it inappropriate for you to have a personal relationship with another task-force member.”

  Alyssa clenched her fists. After everything that had been happening, this was his big concern? Damn her hearing for coming back. She averted her eyes. “It wasn’t what you thought. The last two days have been really difficult, for him. I was simply offering him some comfort.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Really. We’re only friends.”

  “That’s not what it looked like to me.”

  “As far as I know, even if we were in a relationship—and I’m not saying we are—I’m not breaking any rules.”

  Gauthier rubbed the space between his brows. “Sergeant, your familiarity with the rules is shaky at best.”

  “Come on. This is ridiculous. Why are we even talking about this when someone just blew up my car?”

  He huffed out a breath and raised a hand. “Keep things quiet, okay? You need to avoid the appearance of any conflict of interest.”

  She nodded, reluctantly. This whole conversation was pissing her off. “We need to talk.”

  “Let’s go back to the station. We can go over the CSI reports at the same time.”

  There was so much she needed to tell him, but for all she knew Landry had bugs all over their offices. “Not the station. How about your car? We can talk while you drive me back to the motel.” With a sweep of her hand, she indicated her torn clothing. “I need to change.”

  “Speaking of motels,” he said as they walked out to the parking lot. “We’re moving you to one a few streets away. Unless you have somewhere else you can stay?”

  She’d suggest staying with Rémi, but after his little speech earlier, Gauthier would probably ask for her badge back. “A different motel sounds like a good idea. It’ll only take me a few minutes to pack my bags.” She patted the small purse she carried on her shoulder. “At least I still have my wallet.” And my pepper spray.

  Gauthier turned the key in the ignition and headed out to the main road. “You’re also going to need protection. I’m assigning an officer to you, at least for the next few days.”

  She bristled. “I don’t need a babysitter, sir.”

  “The explosive device found in your vehicle is very similar to what the Vipers often use.”

  A burning sensation filled her chest and she found it hard to breathe. Turning to the side window, she hid her face and massaged the tender spot. Why would the Vipers come after her now? Hoping her tone sounded casual, she asked, �
�Do you think it was a Vipers hit?”

  “It looks that way, though I’m a little surprised they failed.” She whipped her head in his direction. His face turned red and his fixed his gaze on the road. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  She gave a little laugh that even to her less-than-tiptop ears sounded forced. The Vipers’ assassins never failed. “Why would they come after me, specifically? My cover was never blown.”

  “That you know of.”

  A shudder wanted to roar through her. Squeezing her knees and linking her fingers together, she suppressed it. In her time with the SQ she’d learned one very valuable lesson: never look weak in front of fellow police officers, suspects, or witnesses. A show of vulnerability in front of a superior was a cardinal offense. “But why now? It would have been more effective to take me out before Lalonde’s trial.”

  He pursed his lips. “It could also be someone not happy with the prospect of cops on the reserve.”

  “Why use a Vipers-style car bomb then?”

  “Maybe this person knows about your history with the bikers and wanted to mislead us.”

  “I was undercover, sir. Only people in the SQ know.”

  “You never told anyone?”

  “Only Rémi.”

  His eyes darted to her face. “You told Whitedeer?”

  A vise clamped on her stomach. Crap. Why’d she have to open her big mouth? She tried to backpedal and lied outright to her boss. “Not exactly. I did admit I’d worked undercover with some biker gangs.”

  “Well, obviously someone spilled,” he said, a vein throbbing at his temple.

  God, she couldn’t believe this was happening. When had her life decided to go to shit? It was bad enough before, what with the pig killing, the shots in the woods, and Ellie’s death, but now her cover with the Vipers might have been blown. If they really had a hit out on her, the rest of her life could be counted in hours.