by M. S. Parker
Chapter Five
Dax
Even though I knew my mom was safely out of the way, I still didn't want to go back home. I didn't know who was behind the shit storm with Julius, but it would be too easy for anyone to find out where I lived if they really wanted to. And I wasn't about to turn my home into a war zone. If I stayed away, I could hope that Julius or whoever would leave the place alone.
If it'd been any other night, I would've walked most of it. Maybe ridden the subway when it got too cold to be outside. But I was lucky I managed to walk a couple blocks before getting a cab. I had to lay low somewhere, preferably somewhere with heat.
I avoided the all-night places I knew Booker and the guys would check first. Even if none of them had been in on the shooting, Julius would probably assume I was like every other guy in Booker's gang. Which meant not going to a strip club, adult movie theater, massage parlor, or any other kind of sex shop.
I was glad those weren't options. I'd much rather spend my night in some café sipping shit coffee, or something like that. The only naked woman I wanted to see was Bryne.
Now, however, I didn't want to be thinking about anyone naked, not even Bryne. I'd never really been a religious person, but even I would've felt weird watching a church and thinking about sex.
Even though Mom wasn't at home, I knew she wouldn't miss Sunday morning Mass. She had to be actually out of the city or deathly ill not to go, and I knew she hadn't gone far. She had a few friends she could stay with, but neither of us knew anyone outside the city. And since all of her friends went to the same church, I knew they'd be here.
No one from the shop would know to come here. Georgie might remember that my mom went to mass, but I doubted he'd be able to remember which one, especially since this church wasn't the closest one to where we'd grown up. So this was the safest place for me to meet her, make sure she was okay.
I just had to be careful that she didn't figure out how badly I was hurt or she'd never let me walk away so I could figure out how to fix things.
As people started to come down the front stairs, I pulled Gavin's hood more tightly around my face and moved closer. Mom generally spoke with the priest, but didn't stay around to chat for a long time, so the way I figured it, she'd probably come out somewhere in the middle. When I was just a couple feet away, I saw her walking out with Olivia Fineberg, the widow who used to babysit me when I was little.
I slipped into the line of people who were making their way down the sidewalk, moving around pedestrians until I was right behind her.
“Mom.”
I watched her spine stiffen, but she didn't turn around. That alone told me that she understood more about what was going on than I wanted her to.
“Can we talk?” I pitched my voice low but saw Olivia glance at me anyway.
Shit.
“Olivia, dear, I think I'm going to stop for some hot chocolate.” Mom's voice was even and bright. “You go on home, and I'll be there in a bit.” When Olivia opened her mouth to say something, Mom reached out and squeezed Olivia's arm. “Please.”
Olivia nodded and moved off as I followed my mom into a little shop to our left. The scent of coffee and chocolate greeted us, but I didn't take the time to enjoy it. My side was throbbing, Bryne's pain pills having worn off hours ago. I was trying to move carefully to avoid bleeding again, but no matter how careful I was, it couldn't stop it from hurting like all hell.
I tried not to look too relieved as I settled into a back booth and waited for my mom to get her hot cocoa. When she joined me, she set a cup in front of me before sliding into the seat across the narrow table.
“You look like shit.”
My eyes widened. Either I must've looked even worse than I thought, or she was really pissed. A look into her eyes told me it was probably both.
“Bad couple nights,” I said.
Her gaze flicked up to my forehead, and I knew the hood wasn't covering all of that cut. My hand rested on my side, almost like I thought she could see it...or that I could ever hide it from her. Mom was one of those parents who could spot an injury, or a lie, a mile away. Since this was both, I had no doubt she knew I had more than a scrape on my head.
She didn't comment on it though. “How long do I need to stay with Olivia?”
“I don't know,” I answered honestly. “Maybe a day or two.”
She nodded and took a long swallow of her drink. I knew she was waiting to see if I'd tell her anything else. I wanted to, wanted to unload all of it, confess to everything and ask her what I should do. I wanted her insight, her wisdom. Her support. I wanted her to help me figure out what to do about Booker and the drug deal. How to handle getting shot.
And what the hell I was supposed to do about Bryne.
But I couldn't tell her any of it. If I told her about why I was hurt, then I'd have to admit everything. Even if I wasn’t actually involved in any sort of drug dealing or transporting, I'd been willing to do it, which was enough to be a disappointment. And I couldn't tell her about Bryne because then I'd have to confess to being such an ass to her.
Mom would have my balls.
“You're my son, Dax.” She broke the silence. “And I trust that you're doing what you think is right.”
I wasn't so sure about that.
“I'll do what you ask,” she continued. “Stay away from the house, be careful when I go places.” She gave me a hard look. “But I'm not stupid. I know that whatever it is you're trying to keep me safe from isn't something you should be doing.” She pointed at me. “Don't make me regret trusting you.”
Her words echoed in my ears as I headed to the subway. Now that I knew she was safe, I had to stop hiding and waiting. I needed to do something to make sure she and Bryne stayed safe.
And that meant I needed to find out exactly what the hell happened Friday night.
So I went to the only place where I knew I could get answers...and make a point.
Little Eddie was behind the counter when I walked into the shop, and his eyes widened when I walked inside. I hoped that was because of how I looked, and not because he'd been part of the ambush. He was a decent guy.
“Booker here?”
Little Eddie shook his head. “Just Georgie.”
I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I had no control over it, so I needed to deal with what I had. As I stepped into the garage part of the shop, I saw Georgie sitting next to the radio, Cleo on his lap. Her arms were around his neck, and he had a hand up her skirt, grabbing her ass. Her shirt was unbuttoned, showing off her skimpy red bra and the dagger tattoo on her left breast.
I didn't look.
I'd seen it before. Along with the rose on her right hip, and my name on the small of her back.
I had no desire to see any of them again. Hell, I hadn't wanted to see my name inked anywhere on her body to begin with. But I didn't really care about that right now.
“Dax!” Cleo tried to climb off Georgie's lap, but he tightened his grip on her ass.
“You look like shit,” Georgie said.
“Not the first time I've heard that today.” I didn't bother wasting any time with small talk. “I'm out.”
Georgie shoved Cleo unceremoniously off his lap and stood, glaring up at me. “You wanna say that again?”
“I'm. Out.” I emphasized each word. “I'll keep my mouth shut like I always do, but I'm done.”
I knew I was taking a risk, coming at Georgie so hard. If he tried to hit me, I was in trouble. I could probably fight back, but I probably wouldn't win. I needed to keep this from getting physical.
But there was one more thing I had to say.
“And if anything happens to my mom, or anyone else I care about, all bets are off.”
“You little–” Georgie fumed.
“I'm done,” I repeated. I took two steps away and then turned back. “Oh, and I quit.”
I walked out without acknowledging the string of curses being sent after me. I might've been mak
ing things more difficult for me and my mom financially, but I was pretty sure she would approve of the choice I'd just made, even if it pissed Booker off. I was going to figure out a way to give myself some insurance.
And I was going to figure out where Bryne's place was in all of this, right after I texted my mom that she could go home.
Except by the time I got home, I had a text from my mom saying that she and Olivia were going to the Mannings' house in the Hamptons for a while. Apparently, Carrie had called her about something to do with the case, and Mom had somehow managed to bring up that she was staying with her friend. I didn't need to know where things had gone from there, only that the offer had come through.
At least now I knew that the people I cared about were out of harm's way, and I could take the time I needed to figure out what I was going to do next.
Chapter Six
Bryne
I supposed I should be grateful that I actually received a couple of texts from Dax during the week. Unprompted ones at that. Granted, they'd only been to thank me for following his advice or to check in to make sure I was safe, but I at least knew he wasn't completely blowing me off.
I didn't let myself obsess over it. Much. I had to admit, all of this stuff going down with Dax while I was in rehearsals might've been a real pain in the ass, but it had definitely taught me how to focus through the shit.
I was trying to look at the positive side of things.
“Nice work, everyone!” The director's call from the front brought everything to a halt. “Have a good weekend!”
“It's really coming together,” Todd said. “Don't you think?”
“It is,” I agreed, relieved to know I truly believed it.
Things were going so well. I could feel how much I was growing into my character, how much she was becoming a part of me. The others were all on point with their character development too. If things kept going this way, we were going to have a hit on our hands. We had every right to be proud of ourselves.
And I was also proud of myself for not immediately checking my phone as soon as I retrieved my purse.
Todd wrapped his arm around my waist as we headed for the door. “Hon, I think we're going to blow the doors off this place opening night.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I think so too.”
Snow flurries danced across my skin as we walked outside. The cold air felt good on my face. Most people had no idea how much physical work actually went into acting, especially on stage. Add in the lights we'd practiced with for the first time today, and I was definitely overheated.
Then I saw him standing at the curb and overheated was suddenly too mild of a word.
The cut on his forehead was barely visible, and he took a step toward me without any wincing, but in my head, I could still see him covered in blood. I pulled away from Todd and gave a slight wave when he said goodbye, but all of my attention was focused on Dax.
That was a problem, I knew. This magnetic pull I felt whenever he was around, as if we had no choice but to come together.
“You look better.” I broke the silence first.
He held out a hand, and a prickle of electricity ran through me as my palm slid across his. “Will you come with me?”
I should've asked where we were going. Demanded answers to his warnings, real explanations for his injuries. I should have told him that I'd only go with him if we talked.
But I didn't. I nodded and then climbed into the back of the car. He settled next to me and gave the driver an address before wrapping his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
“How are rehearsals going?”
I gave him a puzzled look. “Fine.” I let a beat of silence fall before asking, “Is that really what you want to talk about?”
“I want to talk about you,” he said. He brushed back a few of my escaping curls, his fingertips trailing across my cheek. “I've been thinking about you all week.”
“You could have called.” I managed to keep my tone light. I didn't want to sound like one of those nagging girls who got all whiney because their guy didn't call for a while.
“I wanted to,” he said. His gaze moved around my face, as if he was memorizing my features. “But I needed some time to think, and I can't always do that when you're around.” One corner of his mouth turned up in a crooked smile. “The blood from my brain tends to run south when it comes to you.”
I flushed, but it wasn't from embarrassment. I couldn't deny that I liked the idea of him not being able to think straight when he was around me. It was nice to know I wasn't the only one whose brain turned to mush.
“Are you done thinking then?” I asked.
He blew out a long breath, the heat of it warming the air between us. “I've gotten to the point where staying away from you isn't helping me think either.” He cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing against the corner of my mouth as he sighed. “I can't seem to stay away from you.”
I barely managed to stop myself from leaning into his touch. “So what does that mean?”
He was quiet for a moment and thoughts flashed across his eyes too fast for me to identify. “It means I want you with me tonight.”
The statement was simple, but I knew the word choice was important. He hadn't said he wanted to fuck me tonight. Unless something crazy happened, sex was definitely on the agenda, but he hadn't chosen to lead with that. Despite my need to break free from this strange limbo we were in, I needed to be with him more, so I accepted what he offered.
I reached up and brushed my fingers across his forehead. “That's healing nicely.”
He accepted my change of subject with a small smile. “It is.” He dropped his hand. “I never thanked you for what you did.”
“No need.”
He bent his head and lightly touched his lips to mine. “Consider that a down payment on a thank you, with more to come when we're alone.”
The promise of his hands, his mouth, made my breath catch in my throat. Arousal tightened my stomach, and I knew that if I didn't say something to diffuse the tension between us, I was going to demand the rest of his gratitude right here and now.
“I meant to ask, how'd you know about the best way to take care of all this?” I gestured to his side.
He shrugged and turned his head to look out the window. “When you grow up not being able to afford to go to the doctor for anything short of life-threatening, you learn all sorts of things.”
I was spared having to try to figure out the best way to answer when the car pulled up in front of an apartment building. I'd assumed Dax and I were going out to eat before heading back to the loft since Gavin and Carrie weren't due back until Sunday afternoon, but Dax clearly had something else in mind.
“My mom's staying with a friend,” he said as he helped me out of the car.
His expression was tight, and I knew what it meant that he'd brought me here. How I reacted would most likely determine where things went from this moment forward. If I acted like I was looking down on him or where he lived, or if I made too big of a deal and behaved as if this was some sort of commitment, what we had would be over.
I smiled up at him and laced my fingers between his. “Let's go. You owe me a proper thank you.”
The place wasn't huge, but it was bigger than I expected. Neat and clean, with plenty of personal items on the walls and every available surface, this was clearly not a typical bachelor pad. I didn't need to ask to know that Dax didn't bring women back here.
I took off my shoes so I wouldn't track snow across the rug, then hung up my coat while he did the same. He took my hand again and led me down a short hallway, neither one of us saying anything. We entered a dark room, and when he flicked on the light, it revealed a small space, mostly taken up by the queen-sized mattress and a solid-looking dresser.
I didn't see anything else because, even as I was still processing, his hands were on my face, holding it in place as he kissed me. It was a slow, thorough kiss, the kind that didn't spark things
into a quick, bright blaze, but rather stoked flames into an all-consuming inferno.
His mouth never left mine as he removed my clothes, an impressive feat that I would've been more wowed by if I hadn't been so distracted by the way his tongue slid across mine, twisted and tangled. It wasn't until I moved to pull his shirt over his head and felt him catch his breath that I remembered he was hurt.
“On the bed,” I said, my voice rough.
He raised an eyebrow, easing the shirt off on his own. “A bit bossy, aren't you?”
“You're still healing.” I gave him the best stern look I could manage. Being completely naked, seeing that hungry look on his face, while I tried not to ogle his rock-hard chest and abs, wasn't easy.
“Now you're questioning my prowess?”
Both eyebrows shot up. “Prowess? Where the hell did that come from?”
He laughed, that deep rumbling sound that I liked so much. “Mom bought me a word-a-day calendar for Christmas.”
I rolled my eyes and pointed to the bed. “Pants on the floor; you on the bed.” When he still didn't move, I decided to play dirty.
I cupped my breasts, used my fingers to tease my nipples into hard points. Dax groaned but still made no move toward the bed. I ran one hand down my stomach until I reached the curls between my legs. Before I could slip a finger between my damp folds, his hand clamped down on my wrist.
His eyes blazed as he brought my hand up to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to my palm. “I'll be on the bottom, but I'm still in charge.”
I nodded mutely as he dropped my hand. His side was still bandaged, but it looked clean and fresh, which I took as a good sign. Then his pants were off, and my eyes weren't on his side anymore. A drop of liquid leaked from the tip of his cock as he stretched out on the bed, and I licked my lips.
“Up.” The bark was a command, not a request. “Knees on either side of my head, and grab on to the headboard.”
There was too much of a height difference for a traditional sixty-nine position, but I wasn't going to let him turn on his side so we could both reach. I had a feeling this was my thank you.