Fury (New Adult Romance) - #1.5 Fierce Series (15 page)

Man, I feel dizzy.

My head is pounding like crazy. It’s not like a headache, more like
a whirling concussion.

I think Leafy’s grabbing a roll of toilet paper, but I’m not sure. I
can’t concentrate and my eyes feel out of focus. Damn.

She dabs something against my face, and I’m guessing it’s the paper.
It feels soft and cool against my red-hot skin. When she touches my nose it
hurts like hell, but I don’t want her to see that. I just saved her ass. No
time to look weak. I can’t look weak anywhere. It’s not safe.

“I have to call an ambulance,” she says.

What? No. absolutely not. If I go to the hospital, they’ll start
asking questions about why I look so fucked up. No doubt they’ll call the
police and then shit’ll really be rolling. Nope. Can’t have that.

I grab her wrist tight. “Don’t. I don’t want to go there. I can’t,”
I say. I let go again the second I realize I’m being overly touchy with her.

“Why not?” she asks.

What am I supposed to say to that? I can’t really tell her why, so I
decide to keep it vague. “Because the cops will be asking questions, and I don’t
want to answer them.”

Especially not the cops. If Agent Williams shows his face there, I’m
done for. No way he’ll keep me out of jail; he said so himself. Damn that
motherfucker, using me like this. I crack my knuckles thinking about him.

She frowns, pursing her lips. “But you’re hurt.”

I sigh. I must look like shit right now, and yes, I’m hurt, but I
don’t want to go to the hospital. I just want her to fix me.

“Please …” I say, groaning.

After a while she says, “All right.”

I exhale a sigh of relief. Good. I need to calm down now, and going
to the hospital or anywhere near anyone in uniform doesn’t do that for me. She
does. She has this hypnotizing effect on me, like she’s lulling me into a
deeply relaxed state. I’ve never had that before.

Especially when she dabs a cold, watery piece of cotton on my open
gashes. God, that feels good.

She’s tending to my wounds, plucking at the paper, pushing it down
on my skin. My eyes are glued to her face, because she’s right in front of me.
Now I have the perfect excuse to stare at her every fucking second I can. Even
though my head is spinning, she is the one thing I can focus on clearly.

The only thing on my mind right now.

My eyes scan her tiny body, searching for marks left by those
assholes. Her clothes seem to be the only thing damaged, though. I let out a
sigh, glad that she seems okay. Physically, at least.

Looking at her sparks a whole array of emotions. Anger over what
they did to her, confusion over what I should do, desire for her love. She’s so
fucking close I could touch her face, press my lips against her skin and kiss
her until the night is over. She’s prettier than I remember, although I do miss
those glasses. It doesn’t make her any less perfect. She smells of pine forests
and fresh citrus, just my kind of spice. Her scent alone can make me hard.

Fuck. I shouldn’t be thinking about this right now. Especially not
after what happened to her. And especially not considering the problems that
involve me.

“God … it’s hot in here,” I say. It feels like I’m overheating, but
I guess that’s just the hormones raging through my body.

“No, it’s not,” she says, and she places her hand on my forehead.
The way she touches me sends shocks through my entire body, zinging my cock
into action. Shit.

I’m sweating like crazy, and I’m not sure whether it’s because of
the fight or because of her. I’ve got to get out of these clothes, fast.

I hook my fingers under my vest and take it off.

Her eyes widen as she gasps, staring at my body. She stiffens, her
eyes skidding from left to right and back to me again. I like watching this.
She’s trying to look away, but can’t. Sexy. I can’t help but smile. This is
just too good.

Suddenly, the pain is back, and it hurts so much I want to shift my
body. Groaning, I change my position in the hopes it’ll help.

“Be right back,” she says, and she runs out of the bathroom. Well,
that was quick. Did I scare her off just by pulling off my vest? Can’t say I
didn’t see it coming. Nerds like her usually don’t last long around me, whether
it’s talking or fucking. I’m hard and dirty, figuratively and literal.

My head starts to ache again, and I lean forward, planting my elbows
on my knees. I feel dizzy. When Leafy comes back inside with a box in her
hands, my nose starts bleeding again, too.

“Fuck,” I say.

“I’ve got this,” she says. She throws everything into the sink and
rummages through whatever it is. In her hand she holds a bottle filled with
liquid and for a second I cringe, thinking she’s gonna sedate me with a syringe
or something. I hate those things. Fortunately, she just dabs a wad of cotton
on the bottle until it’s soaked.

“This’ll hurt. A lot.” The words aren’t even out yet before the
cotton has already been shoved against the lacerations on my face. It’s burning
into my skin.

“Fuck! Jesus Christ!” I hiss. “What are you doing?”

It hurts so goddamn much I slam my fist into the wall to relieve
myself from the pain.

She jolts up, startled. “Cleaning your wounds with alcohol.”

Take it off, take it off, take it off. TAKE IT FUCKING OFF ME!

I want to scream in her face, but I don’t, because I don’t want to
scare her any more than I already have. She’s the only one who can fix me up
right now. So I shut my mouth and bite down hard.

When she finally stops prodding at me I breathe out. I frown when she
starts wrapping a bandage around my head.

“Do I have to wear this?” I say after a while. She’s spinning it
around my head, covering up my wound. I’m staring straight at her tits, which
are swaying from side to side as she works. Hot damn. I could just reach up and
squeeze them, but that would be fucking rude. I’d like to, though. It’d be a
nice way to lessen the pain.

“Yes. You’ve got a big gash on your forehead. Doesn’t look pretty.
It needs to heal.”

Seriously? I’m gonna have to walk around with this around my head
all day? I groan in frustration. Wearing bandages isn’t something the gang
would likely approve of.

“How are your knuckles?” she asks.

I glance briefly at them. Stretching my fingers already hurts too
much, so I refrain from using them. She doesn’t need to know. I don’t want to
make her worry. “Fine.”

I let my head rest against the wall, feeling tired. All I want is to
find the nearest bed and sleep for two or three days. She fiddles with my
fingers, coaxing me to open them, so I do. Her touch is gentle, soft, and
hesitant, as if she’s still afraid I might lash out at her. I hate knowing she
feels this way about me. I did this on purpose to make sure she didn’t get
hurt, and it was all for nothing. She still got hurt in the end.

She lets go of my hands after doing a thorough inspection and
cleaning. “Thanks,” I say. I appreciate what she’s doing for me. She stuck with
me, and now she’s even mending my wounds. I’m not sure I deserve all her help.
I look her in the eye, feeling grateful and guilty at the same time. It’s only
then that I realize she’s still missing her glasses. I picked them up from the
pavement right after the fight.

“Where are your glasses?” I ask, teasing her. She doesn’t know I
have them. It’s a stupid way to repay her kindness, but I’m trying to lighten
the mood here.

Her eyes drift off to the floor. “I lost them during the fight …”

I can’t stop the laughter from spilling out. I’m awful at keeping
secrets. Damn, laughing is hard when your ribs are bruised, though. “Too bad.
You looked cuter with them.”

Her jaw drops, and she seems taken aback by my comment. Judging from
her flushing cheeks she probably doesn’t hear that a lot. When she giggles, it
sounds so cute I just want to smother her with kisses. I wonder what’s so
funny.

“What?” I say, leaning forward. She stops immediately, gazing back
at me, tensing up. I’m getting closer and closer, taunting her, pushing her to
her limit. I like seeing her uncomfortable. It makes me want to do things to
her she can’t even imagine.

“What’s so funny?” I say, because I still don’t get why she was
giggling a second ago. “You think I’m making a joke?” I’m not. She’s hot; so
fucking hot I want to slide my tongue all over her.

Her cheeks turn an ever brighter shade of red, and I’m so fucking
turned on by it I just want to grab her, pin her to the wall and take her right
here, right now to show her I’m not playing around.

She clears her throat. “No. You’re just the first to say that.”

Is that it, huh? She can’t believe I’m really into her? Figures.

I lean back again. “Well it’s the truth.”

She sighs, her eyes drifting off to the door. She looks embarrassed.
“Others don’t seem to think so.”

Why does she let herself feel down about what other people think?
Like it matters.

“You shouldn’t care so much about what others think,” I say. “What
you
think is what matters.”

I don’t want her to feel bad anymore, so I decide to cheer her up by
giving her back her glasses.

As I take them out, she says, “Oh my God, you found them! Thank you
so much.”

There’s a huge smile on her face, and it’s making me smile too. She
always has that effect on me. “Don’t mention it. Least I could do for you now
that you’ve nursed me back to health.”

Moving to give her the glasses back makes me groan from the pain in
my chest. “Damn … I feel like shit,” I say, chuckling. It’s true, although I
hate to admit it. I’m hoping a good night’s sleep will fix me up in no time.

“You look the part,” she says.

How nice, a compliment. Well, I’m too tired to care. “I just want to
crash on my bed and sleep through the day tomorrow.”

I stand up, but can’t even walk normally. I’m holding onto the wall,
while she puts her arm around me and helps me walk out. Makes me feel like a
helpless old sucker. Damn, since when did I get old?

The moment I see my bed it’s like it’s luring me in, whispering my
name. I just let myself fall down and sink into the pillow. I don’t even mind
Leafy still being here, watching me. I’m already drifting off into a deep sleep
when she suddenly speaks up again.

“Thanks. For coming to my rescue.”

“I would do it again,” I mutter. I’m only partially awake, but I
manage to smile lazily.

“Well … goodnight,” she says, and I think she leaves.

I don’t remember anything after that.

All I remember is her gentle voice lulling me into a deep sleep.

Chapter
14

Letting It all Out

The next day…

“You look like shit, dude,” Jaret says, handing me some coffee.

“Thanks. For the coffee, I mean.”

“What happened? I thought you had a trade, not a beating?”

I snort. “They deserved the beating, not me.”

“Well, then why did you get your ass whooped?” He laughs, but it’s
not funny. Not even a little.

“I didn’t get my ass whooped!” I frown. “I fucking kicked those
shits in the nuts! Fucking asswipes.”

“Okay … Sounds like the trade didn’t go well, then.”

“Fuck the trade! Fuck them all.”

“You know the gang’s not gonna take disobedience, right?”

I scowl at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Whatever, dude,” he says.
“I’m just trying to help.”

He gets up and puts his cup of coffee on a table. “You can’t beat up
clients, Hunter. It’s not good for the business.”

“They were going to fucking rape her! Of course I stepped in.”

“Who?”

I swallow. Of course, Jaret doesn’t know about her. I hadn’t thought
about that yet. I’d wanted to keep her for my own. Sort of as a little secret I
could cherish. But I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.

“This girl …” I say, sighing.

He chuckles. “You’re letting yourself get beaten over a girl?”

I get up and start pacing around. “They were asking for it. Those
guys were no good anyway. I’ll make it up to the gang. Don’t worry about it.”

“Right …” he says, grabbing his books. “Well … I just wanna say, be
careful. I told your brother I’d look out for you.”

“I know,” I say. “I just want to reach the top as fast as possible
without breaking so many goddamn laws.”

Jaret chuckles, taking a last sip from his coffee. “That ain’t gonna
happen, kid. You knew the deal when you joined.”

“Yes, I know,” I grumble. I mull it over a bit, biting my lip. If I
want to get closer to the leader, I need someone to take me there, someone
who’s already been in the gang for a long time. Someone they trust. Someone
like Jaret.