Fix You: Bash and Olivia, Book 3 (5 page)

“Him.
Sebastian McDaniels. He was wearing a Shorty’s T-shirt, so I figured he was a bouncer or something. He kicked the door down and I could see that Andrew Abernathy had her by the neck. Sebastian told him to let her go, and he didn’t. Then he punched him.” She spared a withering glance at Andrew. “Once.”

Andrew and his father both began talking at once, but were quickly quieted by the presiding judge. What were they so worried about? Surely their name and influence would get them over this hump like it had all the rest up until now.

Whitcomb finished up with a few more questions, and Emily was cross-examined, but oddly, in a very gentle fashion. Something was definitely up and I started feeling that dangerous emotion that could do so much damage.

Hope.

By the time the testimony ended, and the grand jury stepped out to deliberate, I was a mass of jangling nerves. Odds were, nothing had changed and I wouldn’t know my fate today. All I would find out was whether or not there was enough evidence to charge me for the crimes set before the panel. If so, a trial date would be set and I’d have to relive it all tenfold before I’d know if I was going to do time.

“Should we go get something to eat?” I asked Whitcomb, moving to stand. I couldn’t see sitting there all day, waiting for them to decide. I’d lose my frigging mind.

“I think we should stay put, actually.”

“How do you think it went?” I finally muttered, not sure I wanted the answer, but not able to keep myself from asking.

“Really well. Emily was a godsend.”

My brothers, Mrs. Beckett, and
Liv had come to join us, and were voicing their impressions when the wide doors opened again and the panel of jurors filed through. Jesus, they hadn’t been gone five minutes yet.

That was either very good or very bad. Everyone dispersed as the judge took the bench and Whitcomb motioned for me to stand.

“The jury has reached a determination. What say you?” The judge tipped his head and peered at the jurors over his wire-rimmed glasses.

“We the jury
find the evidence to be insufficient at this time and recommend that the charges of felony aggravated assault against Sebastian McDaniels be dismissed.”

Adrenaline pounded through my veins as the courtroom exploded around me. It was a small but loud bunch, and my brothers whooped and hollered as they rushed forward to envelope me in a bear hug. I pushed them back, still afraid to believe it. What if the judge didn’t accept their recommendation? Was it really over?

“Mr. McDaniels, you’re free to go,” the judge said over the din. “Case dismissed.”

I slumped forward into
Liv’s waiting arms and squeezed her tight. My heart was hammering so loud, it felt like it might pound right out of my chest. We’d won. That made for two wins in a row. We were on a fucking roll.

“I love you, Bash. I love you so much,”
Liv whispered, peppering my face with kisses, setting the wicked hook of guilt even deeper into my gullet.

“I love you too, babe.”

It was true. I did love her.

But that hadn’t stopped me from breaking my promise to her. And when she found out, she was probably going to leave me forever.

Chapter Five

Olivia

“Councilman Jared Fenwick’s daughter?”
Reid shook his shaggy dark head incredulously for the fifth time in as many hours. “What are the odds of that?”

Matty
laughed and nodded, taking a sip from the mug of champagne I’d handed him. My mother had planned ahead, feeling pretty confident that her star witness was going to obliterate the prosecution once she got on the stand. It was no longer the word of Bash McDaniels and his girlfriend against deep-pocketed and respected businessman Andrew Abernathy and his son. It was the daughter of Boston’s own councilman who was also on the fast track to being mayor who was going to be called into question, and it was pretty clear right out of the gate that nobody in that courtroom wanted to start that beef.

Everyone, including the cops who’d testified, couldn’t wait to get out of there once they realized who they were dealing with. He’d be signing off on their overtime someday soon, and it was all a game of politics. Luckily this time, justice had prevailed.

Now I was back at the gym with Bash and his brothers after dinner with my mom, drinking the Moët she had sprung for out of clay mugs. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet.

“Actually, the odds are pretty good. A lot of fancy people go to Olivia’s school, so it doesn’t seem all that strange to me that one of them happened to be there and witness Andy acting like a dick-bag,”
Matty said with a lopsided grin.

I eyed him, wondering if he was breaking my balls with the “fancy school” dig, but it didn’t seem like it. He just looked…happy. The way we all did.

The Spada fight was still on, Bash wasn’t going to prison, and this whole thing was behind us now for good. A shiver of apprehension ran through me and I brushed it off, taking another swallow of crisp bubbly. Probably I’d just gotten used to things taking a turn for the worse lately, and all this good luck was making me twitchy.

I pushed myself off the worn blue mat and peered around the room in search of my man, vowing not to look for trouble where there was none. Bash had been notably absent for almost half an hour, and the news was still too fresh for me to feel comfortable letting him out of my
sight for that long. I loved hanging out with Matty and Reid, but all I really wanted was to latch on to Bash like a starfish on a clam and squeeze the shit out of him for the next three days until it sank in.

He was free. Free from Mickey, free from the threat of prison. And pretty soon, he’d be free of Boston and all the terrible memories that came with it. My pulse skittered as the question that rose with that realization surfaced.

And when he left Boston, what about us?

“Come with me.”

I’d been so preoccupied with my thoughts, I hadn’t realized my MIA boyfriend had rolled up behind me. He took my hand and led me up the stairs from the gym to the apartment with Matty and Reid whistling and catcalling like twelve-year-olds behind him.

“I want to show you something.” He sounded excited but a little nervous, and that made my heart squeeze in my chest.

“Oh, believe me, I’ve seen it, and it’s very impressive,” I said, chuckling at my own joke. He laughed too, but when we reached the top of the stairs, he hung a right and opened what I’d always thought was a utility room or storage closet.

He led me through the doorway into total darkness and I gripped his hand tighter.

“Okay,” I said in a stage whisper, “if you’re about to kill me with lopping shears and then hang me on a meat hook or something, I’m going to be so pissed right now.”

He snorted and tugged me forward, up another flight of stairs.

“I just want to go on record as saying I think attics are super creepy. Creepier than clowns. And dolls. And clown dolls.”

The steps creaked and a doorknob turned, and a second later, the dim light of dusk poured into the stairwell followed by a cool breeze.

“Is this the roof?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Bash asked, drawing me forward until I stepped out onto the tar shingles.
“Seriously. I hate to think what birthdays and Christmas will be like. You have to know everything.”

I poked him in the chest. “That’s right, and don’t you forget it.”

The smile faded from his lips and he pulled me against him until my soft parts were lined up with his hard ones.

“I don’t know how to thank you.
And your mom. She was amazing.”

“She was,” I acknowledged, reveling in the unfamiliar sensation of having Bash close to me and knowing I wouldn’t have to let him go any time soon. “You were very gracious, and I know she appreciates your gratitude, but she didn’t do anything you didn’t deserve. None of us did. You’re innocent. So be happy it worked out, but don’t feel beholden to anyone. The justice system worked this time. Now give me a tour of this roof.”

It was a beautiful evening, a little cool when the breeze kicked up, but perfect otherwise, and the stars were just starting to pop out. Bash led me to the center of the roof, where a gray fleece blanket was spread wide. Next to it sat a plate piled high with cannoli and what, from this distance, appeared to be Twinkies. An aluminum bucket holding a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer sat on a stool across from the food, and I let go of Bash’s hand to clap in delight.

“Oh my God!
Is this where you’ve been? Getting this all together for me?”

“It’s not Moët or a fancy dinner or anything, but you said you wanted normal for once…” He shrugged his broad shoulders like it was nothing, but it was something to me and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Thank you.”

He pulled me down to the blanket with him and gestured to the food. “Cannoli or Twinkie?” he asked, solemn-faced.

I considered my options and decided it wasn’t a day to worry about calories. “I’ll take one of each, and one of those beers too.”

He set my food selections on a napkin and laid them in front of me before cracking open a can of beer and handing it to me.

"So, this is what a normal date looks like for you?" I took a long pull from the icy can and breathed a happy sigh before leaning back on my elbows to stare at the sky. The appeal of it was understandable. Spending a night out in the open with nothing but cheap booze, the sounds of the city, and Bash to keep me company. It felt…easy. We deserved easy for a change.

"Nah.
I wouldn't break out the Blue Ribbon for other girls. For you? Nothing but the best." He shot me a smile and my heart melted in one fell swoop.

This was all I'd wanted from the start of this whole mess.
Just me and Bash. And the beer was a plus.

"I'm so glad I'm here," I said. I knew it was strange to say out of the blue, but the words
were eating at me. I needed him to know how much the gesture had meant to me. How much he meant to me. It was never more clear than now, when I’d gotten so close to losing him again.

He shifted on the blanket and leaned in, just near enough that I could smell his intoxicating cologne on the air.
"Yeah. I am too.”

His lips touched mine for a split second before he pulled back.

“Now let’s eat, drink, and be normal. I’m even going to take the day off my training diet, because we have some stuff to celebrate.” He picked up a cannoli and a beer and grinned at me. “Just don’t tell Butchie. We called him and he’s flying in next week to get at it hard-core with me now that we know the fight is on. If he finds out I ate a Twinkie?” He used the pastry in his hand to mimic a knife across his throat. “Heads will roll.”

For the next hour, we ate ourselves sick and laughed ourselves sicker. I talked him into a silly drinking game and we were both halfway to drunk when he suddenly set his beer can down and pointed to the sky.

“Holy shit, did you see that?”

I shook my head and peered into the starry night.
“Nope. Was it a spaceship?”

He scooted down further on the blanket and laid back, waving for me to join him. “It was a shooting star. Come on, maybe there will be another.”

I hunkered down next to him, so happy I could explode with it, and snuggled against him, resting my head against his chest and looping an arm around his waist.

"You know…" I bit my lip, almost stopping myself from saying another word. But he was close. And it felt so right. Here on the roof with everyone else so far away. Like the whole world belonged to us.

There was only one thing that would make tonight better, and tonight I wasn't in a mood for second-bests. He’d stripped off his suit jacket and button-down when we’d gotten to the gym and now wore just a white fitted T-shirt with his suit pants. The look did amazing things for his biceps. His muscles rippled as he held me tight, and I swallowed hard to keep from drooling.

"You know," I started again, "I heard this legend once.
About the stars."

He angled his head back to see my face.
"Oh yeah?"

I
hiccuped and covered my mouth with a laugh, refusing to let my buzz ruin this for me. "This one, here?" I pointed to a red dot in the sky, set apart from the rest. "That one was in love with this one." My finger traced a path to a little white star halfway across the sky.

"And what happened?"

"Well, they loved each other. From afar, you know. And then one perfect, magical night, they got a chance to be away from it all. Away from the palace guards—"

"There are palace guards?"

"Sure. They’re not relevant to the story, though.” I thumped his chest to shush him before I forgot the rest of my fake legend.
“Anyways,
like I was saying, one perfect, magical night, they found out that they were going to be able to be together and they wanted to celebrate. So the big red star gave the little white star the best night of her life. And the little white star wanted to reciprocate." I inched toward his mouth, swallowing hard in an attempt to moisten my dry throat. Why was I so nervous? We’d slept together a dozen times by now. Maybe more.

But this is the first time you’re doing it without doom and gloom hanging over you.

We were finally free.

"There’s a problem with your little tale." Bash’s voice was temptingly low, and as he spoke, the heat of his breath kissed the skin of my cheek.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, as he laid me low with his intense gaze. I tried to sound adversarial, but there was no fight in me. Only surrender. “What’s that?”

"The red dot over there is a radio tower." His slow, sexy smile was infectious, I couldn't help returning it.

"And you forgot to mention how they celebrated." He closed the space between our lips and erased every other thought but the feel of him from my mind.

It shouldn't have caught me by surprise, but it did, and I struggled to maintain my balance with reality. My plan had been to tease him and tempt him within an inch of his life, the way he’d done to me so many times before. But now, being with him, feeling liberated from the troubles that had held us back, all I wanted to do was pounce.

He tilted his head to the side to deepen our kiss and I pulled him in, stroking when he stroked, licking when he licked, our tongues moving together in sublime rhythm.

But it wasn't enough. I needed more of him.

I leaned up to grip the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. I hated letting go of him for even a second, but the reward was well worth the sacrifice. He was gorgeous, all lean muscle and carved edges, and I was going to lick every inch of him until his taste was imprinted on my tongue.

I perched above him to loosen his belt and tugged his pants and boxers over his hips and down to his ankles.

He smiled at me as I went, but the smile disappeared as soon as I bent over him completely, trailing my tongue down the path from his navel to his erection before taking him into my mouth and sucking long and deep.

"Christ," he ground out and fisted his hand in my hair. I went on, working him up and down until the sweeping strokes on my nape turned into fingers gripping my shoulder, urgent and needy.

I swirled my tongue around the tip and watched as he arched back, every perfect muscle stretched and tensed to my attention. His breathing was shallow now, and with every dip of my head it grew shallower, faster.

And with every breath, I felt myself getting wetter. It was a struggle to continue. All I wanted was to take him into me and let him feel my warmth, to ride him and lose myself in him without anything between us. But the need to drive him wild was stronger and I pressed on, a surge of satisfaction coursing through me every time his fingertips dug into me. Watching as he closed his eyes and savored the feel of me. I squeezed my thighs together to quell the rising ache within me. I could wait. Release could wait as long as I got to keep touching him.

Just as I was near the point of breaking, he growled my name, his muttered words making my heart sing. "Enough. I need to have you."

I shuddered with pleasure and I plunged down, taking him deep into my throat again, once, twice, and one final time, savoring the way he grew impossibly harder in my mouth. The way his fingertips clutched at my skin.