by Carina Adams
Matty saw the boy in my arms and his eyes flew around the room before landing on Hansen and his girlfriend. My best friend’s lip curled in disgust as he turned his attention back to the boy. “She do that?”
His jaw ticked, nostrils flared. I nodded. There was no way to tell what she’d done or how much of the damage had been done by Hansen. But the hag on the floor was to blame. She should have taken her son and left the minute she thought Hansen would hurt the boy.
“We’ll handle the Renegades,” Tank told me. “You get him to the hospital!”
“He’s alive?” Matty didn’t look like he believed me.
I nodded.
“Jesus Christ!” Matt shook his head. “Get him to the truck. We’ll take care of the fuckers.”
Preach pulled out his piece. “I’m on his six.”
“You’re dead! You hear me? Dead!” the woman screamed.
With his eyes still on the boy I carried, Matty drew his gun and pointed it at her, as if the threat would make her stop screaming. “Rob?”
He was asking me for permission. He didn’t need to. If the boy hadn’t been alive, she’d already be lying next to the prick she loved, the life seeping from her body. She was a fucking liability. More than that, she was scum of the fucking earth and needed to be put down.
“Take care of her,” I told them before I left the apartment. “Then get your asses out of here. Before the Renegades see you. They want war, they can come for me later.”
I followed Preach down the steps and into the street. It was still quiet. If the Renegades were coming for us, they hadn’t found us yet. The boy released another sob-like groan.
“We’re on our way, buddy. I’m gonna get you help,” I promised him. “You’re gonna be okay. Just hold on.”
I stepped into the streetlight, searching for my truck. Someone screamed my name, and I drew up short as Cris barreled toward me at full speed, her eyes huge. I’d forgotten she’d been in the truck waiting.
“Oh, my God!” she cried. “What…?” She didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence before Preach caught her around the waist, lifting her feet from the ground, and turned her back toward the truck.
“Get in,” he demanded, not giving her a chance to argue as he yanked open the passenger door and shoved her in. “We’re leavin’!”
Cris scrambled across the cab to unlock the driver’s door, then dove into the back as I eased onto the seat, trying to not jiggle the boy too much. Preach hurried around the front and slid behind the wheel.
We were moving before he’d closed his door.
“What is going on?” Cris asked, her voice panicked.
I shook my head. I didn’t know what to tell her. Thankfully, she didn’t press further.
“You leavin’ him at the curb?” Preach asked as he sped off, banging a right to merge onto the highway. “You sure as shit ain’t walkin’ him into that emergency room lookin’ the way you do. You’ll be bagged on the spot.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the Greybeard shook his head.
“Boy, he’s been beaten within an inch of his life. Your hands say you’ve beaten someone bloody. He might not make it. They’re gonna take one look at you, see your prospect patch and the colors you’re flying, and think you hurt him.”
I hadn’t thought about it that way. Preach was right. I was covered in blood, wearing a Bean Nighe cut, with busted knuckles. I’d never hurt a kid, but one look at me, and they’d assume the worst.
“Not to mention you don’t need to be associated with that boy. Nothin’ that happened in that apartment can come back on you. Don’t go askin’ for trouble, son.”
“Fuck!”
Hospitals asked questions. I didn’t know his name. I didn’t know how old he was. I’d look like I was being difficult and not cooperating. Jesus Christ. I was fucked.
“I can’t leave him.” I watched him closely to see if he was still breathing. He was. Barely. “I need to get him inside.”
“I’ll do it,” Cris spoke from the backseat.
I twisted my head around to look at her. “The hell you will.”
“I don’t know what in the hell happened up there, but I know we need to get that poor baby to a hospital!” she snapped. “You are not leaving him on the street!”
“Damn right I’m not,” I agreed.
“And you’re not taking him in either!” She leaned over the seat and gripped my shoulder. “You look like you were in an accident from hell. He’s right.” She tipped her head toward Preach. “They’ll think you did something to hurt him.”
I shook my head. I didn’t care. I’d figure it out.
“I’m not from here. I don’t look like you. No one will question me. I’m doing it.”
“No,” I argued, dead set against it. I wouldn’t let her put herself at risk.
“It’s a good plan.” Preach nodded next to me. “She should do it.”
I glared at him. “No one asked you. Just drive.”
He didn’t argue. Minutes later, he took an exit and maneuvered the streets, getting us as close to the hospital as possible. A few blocks down, he pulled onto the sidewalk.
He pushed open his door and spoke to Cris. “Come on, girl. You’re up.”
“The fuck she is,” I growled as quietly as I could.
Cris climbed out and opened my door.
“Robby,” —she grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze—“we don’t have time for this. He needs help. Let me help him.”
“No other option, Prospect,” Preach added from beside her.
They were right.
“I hate this,” I told her as I transferred him into her arms.
Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, he’s so tiny.” She propped him on her shoulder and cradled his head against her. “What kind of monster would do something like this?”
Without another word, Cris turned and hurried away. She’d just started to fade from site when Preach started the truck and turned us around.
“Where in the fuck are you goin’?”
“Gettin’ you outta here ‘fore someone sees you.”
“I’m not leaving Cris,” I yelled. “Turn around.”
“We’ll send someone back for her.”
“She’s all alone!” I slammed the heel of my hand onto the dash. “You can’t leave her.”
“Nothin’ll happen to her inside that hospital. You waitin’ outside like a sittin’ duck is another story.”
I reached behind me and yanked out my gun, holding it on him. “Turn around.”
The old prick chuckled. “You reload when I wasn’t lookin’?” He didn’t give me a chance to answer, but he knew I hadn’t. “My orders are to protect you. We’ll send someone back for your ol’ lady. Tank’s probably already there. She’s gonna be fine.”
His orders were to protect me? “Whose orders?” I demanded.
He sped up the entrance ramp. “Tiny.”
“Why me?”
“I don’t ask questions, kid. You shouldn’t either. Learn your fucking place, Prospect.”
Cody Hansen was dead. I’d delivered the life-ending blow. I should feel relieved. Happy, even.
I wasn’t. I was too worried about the nameless little boy. And too scared for my girl.
24
Cris
I started to scream for help as soon as I rushed through the double doors into the ER. For a moment, people looked at me. Then everyone seemed to move at once.
A gurney appeared in front of me; a woman helped me lay the little tyke onto it, while another started checking his vitals and a doctor ran to us, pulling a stethoscope from its spot around his neck.
The first woman bombarded me with questions, all things I couldn’t answer. I started to cry as I told her the truth. I didn’t know anything about him because I’d found him.
The woman swore under her breath and steered me away from the young patient.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” I asked as I grabbed her arm. “Please s
ay he is.”
Her face filled with sympathy. “They’re going to do to everything they can. I need you to come with me.”
I nodded and followed, answering her questions. When she asked about me, I stuck to the truth as much as possible. I was in the city visiting my brother for summer vacation. I’d been out on a walk and had gotten lost. It was a miracle that I’d seen the child when I had. Since I didn’t have a cellphone to call 911, I’d picked him up and carried him.
After she’d gotten all the information she needed, she led me to the waiting room and explained that I had to stay until she could have someone examine me. It didn’t matter how many times I told her that nothing had happened to me, she insisted that it was hospital policy. I stayed and let her think I believed her.
When a police officer appeared at her side in the doorway of the waiting room over an hour later, I wasn’t surprised when she directed him toward me. Without an explanation, he ushered me into a private consultation room and asked me all the same questions she had. I regurgitated the same information I’d given her. He was difficult to read.
He asked for identification. I pulled my student ID card from my back pocket. He took it from me, turned it over, then shook it.
“You don’t have a license?” he asked, skeptical.
“I do, but I don’t drive, so I never carry it.”
He frowned. “This doesn’t list your date of birth. You can’t legally drink with this.”
“I don’t drink,” I explained, uncomfortable with the direction of questions. “I’m only nineteen. I turn twenty at the end of June.”
Too much info, I chastised myself. You’re giving him too much.
“No address either.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I’m only here for the summer, staying with my brother.”
“What’s his address?”
I took a deep breath, trying to hide my fear. If he’d asked me the day before, I wouldn’t have been able to answer him. Thankfully I’d paid attention earlier when Rob had driven me over to get his bike.
The officer wrote it down and asked for a number where he could reach me. After a few more clarifying questions, he stood up. “Can I give you a ride home?”
I hesitated. I didn’t know how I was going to get back to Rob. I didn’t even know where everyone was.
I shook my head. “I called my brother.” Before he could leave, I asked the questions that had been bouncing around my mind. “Did you find the little boy’s parents?” The officer shook his head but didn’t say anything. “Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s got a long road,” he told me as he held open the door. “You saved his life.”
I thanked him and started hurrying down the hall.
“Ms. Murphy,” he called once I was a few feet away. “I may have some follow-up questions tomorrow.”
I nodded and forced myself to walk at a normal pace as I tried to escape him. If Rob had come instead of me, there was no way he’d be walking out. They had barely believed me; they never would’ve bought Rob’s story.
I glanced into the waiting room, hoping to see a familiar face. There wasn’t one. I stopped at the payphone and tried my brother’s house number one more time. Again, the machine picked up.
I left the hospital through the same door I’d entered, hoping to see Rob’s truck parked on one of the side streets. I walked a couple of blocks in each direction, but he wasn’t there. No one I knew was. Filled with worry, I turned back to the hospital. And almost cried in relief when I saw Tank leaning against his motorcycle.
“Baby girl,” he called when I got closer. I practically leapt into his arms, relieved to find a familiar face. “You good?”
I nodded against his chest as I squeezed hard. “It’s been a long night.”
He held me tight. Then he released me. “How’s the kid?”
“They won’t tell me,” I pouted. “I’m worried about him.”
“We’ll find out. I promise.”
“How?” I wrung my hands. “I don’t even know his name.”
“I have my ways,” he assured me as he swung a leg over his seat and beckoned to me. “Hop on. Let’s get you back to your man.”
“How is Rob?” I held on to Tank as I settled into the princess seat.
“Worried as fuck about you.” He pulled my hands over his stomach before he started the bike, making me get closer to him. “Let’s get you back to your man.”
I didn’t ask where we were going. I was tired. Utterly exhausted. I could crawl into bed and sleep for a week. I needed to see Rob to make sure he was safe and check on my brother before I could rest.
I wasn’t surprised when we pulled into an unfamiliar house.
Rob rushed down a small set of stairs, my brother hot on his heels, before Tank had even stopped the bike. My feet were barely on the ground before Rob grabbed my shoulders, holding me at an arm’s length from him, and inspected me.
I used the time to check him over, too. He’d showered and changed his clothes, all evidence of blood and gore gone. He was pale though, worry taking its toll.
Before I could object, he swept me into his arms and, without a word to anyone, carried me into the house and down a hall. He toed open a door and kicked it shut behind him. I saw a bed and small guest room over his shoulder, but he didn’t stop until he’d shut us in a tiny bathroom.
“They wouldn’t tell me how he is,” I explained as soon as Rob put me down. I wished I had more information, that I could ease his mind.
His eyes darted over me. “I’m fine!” I assured him, hoping to wipe the concern from his face. I reached up and ran a finger along his cheek, parallel with his beard. “Tell me you are.”
His breathing grew ragged and heavy as he took a step closer. Instinct kicked in and I backed up. He stepped forward again, making me retreat once more, but my back hit the closed door, and his arms boxed me in.
“I’m going to kiss you.” He didn’t give me a second to digest the words before his lips were on mine.
I melted into him. After the day we’d had, the yo-yoing, the stress of the unknown, kissing him seemed like the last thing I should want to do. Yet, after the day we’d had, nothing felt more right. I hoped that he never stopped.
The events of the past few hours faded away, time ceased to exist, as Rob moved from my lips to my neck. My nails dug into the cut on his shoulders, desperate to hold on to him, to keep him close. A little moan escaped as he found my mouth again, his teeth tugging on my bottom lip.
Without a word, he took a step back, linked his fingers with mine, and opened the door to lead me back to the bedroom. He stopped next to the bed, let go of me long enough to shed his cut and kick off his boots, then his hands were back on me, reaching for the zipper of the sweatshirt he’d forced me to put on earlier.
Realization jolted me. It had only been that morning that I’d moved to Boston, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. More had happened in one day than usually happened to me in a month. It was a lot to take in.
When he started to push the material from my shoulders, I grabbed his hands and shook my head. I’d known what he thought of me, what he’d assumed I’d done. But I wasn’t that girl. Not really. The fact that he still thought I was, after I’d believed we’d had a breakthrough, stung.
He frowned before understanding dawned. He cupped my cheeks and leaned down so we were eye level. “Brat, when I make you mine for the first time, really claim you, it ain’t gonna be in a house filled with armed bikers on high alert. And it sure as shit ain’t gonna be with your brother in the next room.” His kiss made all my fears disappear. “It’s been a long fucking day, and I just want to lie down and hold my girl.”
His girl.
There was no one around, so we didn’t have to pretend. “I’m not your girl, Robby.”
“You are.” He lifted my hand and pressed it to his chest. His heart was thundering, slamming against his chest. “You do that to me. I don’t know when the fuck it happened or
how, but you are the only one who has made me feel like this in a long fuckin’ time.”
Air caught in my lungs as my own heart started to mimic his. “I don’t even know if I like you.”
He chuckled; the sound of it turned my insides to mush. “Oh, brat, you do.” He grinned as he tucked hair behind my ear. “You really do.”
He pressed his lips to mine again, coaxing a response from me.
“You hate me,” I argued when we broke apart a few minutes later.
Rob fell to the bed, dragging me with him. He moved quickly, positioning himself on the pillows with one hand under his head, the other hugging me into his side. “Do you hate me?”
“I feel like I do sometimes.” My fingers traced invisible lines on his black tee shirt.
“I don’t hate you, brat.” His lips pressed into the top of my head. “And I don’t think you hate me. And that scares you as much as it scares me.”
He was right. I didn’t hate him, not even a little bit at all. My loathing toward him had been the one constant in my life for years. The one feeling that I could count on never to change. If I didn’t have that, I couldn’t be sure of anything.
“Stop thinking so hard,” he murmured before giving me a quick squeeze. “Go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.” His lips were warm against my skin one more time.
I tried to fight the fatigue. I wanted to stay awake and talk to him, to kiss him, to hold him. Instead, the steady beat of his heart beneath my head sang to me, lulling me to sleep.
*****
Rob was gone when I opened my eyes. Sunlight was pouring into the little room and it took me a second to get my bearings, to remember where I was. Then it all came rushing back and I sat up in a panic.
I rushed to the bathroom, horrified at the reflection staring back at me. My hair was in tangles, the natural curls a mass of frizz. The bags under my eyes were obnoxious, showing anyone who looked close enough exactly how little sleep I managed to get.
I splashed cold water on me, hoping it would at least help wake me up, rinsed out my mouth to combat morning breath, and pulled my hair back into a high ponytail. With one last look at the disaster that was me, I left the bathroom and headed for the door to the house. I paused as I reached for the handle, glancing down at my clothes.