Revved (Axle Alley Vipers) (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

R
eid’s house was dark when he drove up. Empty. This wasn’t news, of course. But right then, he would have done just about anything to avoid walking through the front door.

He’d been all set to work into the night and crash on the couch in his office again, but Law had kicked his ass out. It was either leave or admit he didn’t want to come home.

Coming home to his place did not hold the appeal it once had. Everything reminded him of Rusty. The breakfast bar, the couch, the living room, the fucking stairs leading up to his bedroom.

And let’s not get started on the bedroom itself. It was like her scent, sweet and intoxicating, had been absorbed into his mattress. He’d finally ripped off the sheets and changed them. But it didn’t matter, he could still smell her, and every damn morning he woke up hard and aching for her, reaching to the other side of the bed, searching her out. Then the haze of sleep would lift and he’d remember, remember how he’d screwed everything up.

He hit the garage door opener and, when it lifted, rolled in and killed the engine. Shoving the door open, he climbed out. The place was silent, except for the engine ticking as it started to cool down, and the sound of waves crashing into the beach. Maybe he’d go out for a night surf. Maybe if he wore himself out, he’d get some goddamn sleep tonight.

Slamming the car door, he palmed his keys to head inside, but a scrape from behind had him spinning around. A dark figure hovered by the door, swaying slightly.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Reaching out, he hit the garage light and took in the man standing across from him. “What’re you doing here?”

His old man squinted against the light, then lifted a bottle, clear liquid sloshing up to his cracked lips, taking two generous slugs. “I wanted to see my boy.” His words were slurred, and the gin he was sucking back, always his liquor of choice, dribbled down his chin. He looked like shit.

“Sure you did.” He planted his hands on his hips. “When did they let you out?”

“S’morning.” Lifting the hand gripping his precious gin he pointed a finger at Reid. “Why’d you have to go and call the cops on me, boy? You know I hate being locked up.”

“You broke the conditions of your restraining order. It was your own damn fault. You want to stay out of jail, stay away from her.”

His father’s face twisted into something resembling pain, then morphed into outright rage. “She’s
my
wife. You need to keep the fuck out of it. You’ve always been a mama’s boy, a gutless piece of shit. I should have ended your miserable little life when you were still in your mother’s belly, should have kicked you right out of there.” He wiped his sleeve across his mouth. “I tried, did you know that? I kicked and kicked, but you’d already gotten your hooks in, like the fucking parasite you are.”

It took all his strength to hold his ground, not to unleash all the pent-up anger he’d been carrying around over losing Rusty on the bastard standing in front of him. He’d heard the story before. It was one of the old man’s favorites. He loved to tell Reid how he broke three of his mother’s ribs while she was pregnant with him, how much pain she’d been in the entire nine months she carried him because of it. But his favorite part of the story, the part he relished telling, was how much she’d hated Reid because of it. How she could never really love him because he’d caused her nothing but hurt.

When he was a kid, he’d believed every word of it, believed that it was somehow his fault. That he’d hurt her. The bastard had taken advantage of the fact time and again.

His father wasn’t just a drunk, he was an evil, sadistic motherfucker, and he’d never change. So yeah, he wanted to take the bastard down. But he’d learned a long time ago that it wasn’t worth it,
he
wasn’t worth it.

“You need to leave now, before I call the cops again and they haul your ass in. And if you go near Ma, she’ll do the same.”

Instead of backing off, he stumbled forward. “I’m sick of you telling me what to do, ordering me about. You kicked me out of my own damn house, poisoned my wife against me. No more. You hear me?” He lifted his arm slowly, the one not clutching his bottle of gin, and brought up a gun. Then without batting an eyelid, pointed it at Reid’s face. “No more.”

The gun shook in his hand, but he kept it aimed on Reid. His father wanted him dead. It was there in his black, soulless eyes. He hated him, had always hated him, and was finally going to do something about it. “You don’t wanna do that, old man.” He took a step forward. “You don’t like jail? If you kill me, you’ll be going back inside, and you won’t be coming out.”

“Don’t take another step,” he slurred.

The shakes got worse. If he didn’t do something now, the gun could easily go off by accident.

“You took everything from me. My house, my wife. Once you’re gone I can have it all back. You got plenty of money, all those businesses. Who you think’s gonna get that when you’re six feet under? You ain’t got no kids.” He took another slug of gin, then licked his lips as if he could taste it, taste the money that would go to Reid’s mother if anything happened to him.

He searched his mind for something, anything to say that might stop this, but came up blank. What could he say? His father hated him enough to want him dead.

The rev of an engine broke through the silence, tires squealing as a car sped past the house. Just some kid going for a joyride, but his father turned his head to see what the noise was. Reid took his chance, the only one he’d get, and lunged. But his father spun back at the same time.

The smash of his gin bottle hitting the concrete floor was closely followed by an earsplitting explosion
.

Then what felt like a fucking sledgehammer tore through him.

A second later, Reid hit the ground, hard.

Then everything went dark.

Chapter Twenty-Five

A
low incessant buzzing forced its way into Rusty’s dream, the same dream she’d had every night for the last few nights. Reid, lying behind her, heavy arm draped across her waist, face buried against her neck. They were talking, laughing, then she’d roll over, cupping his face, smiling up at him, and he’d whisper, “I love you, Rusty.”

The buzzing sound started up again, and she threw an arm out, grabbing her phone off the bedside table. What time was it? Had she slept in? Holding the phone in front of her face, she blinked several times, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the harsh light coming from the screen.
11:37 p.m.

She’d only been in bed for half an hour. The buzzing immediately started up again. She’d missed four calls, and the number flashing on the screen wasn’t one she recognized. Could be kids messing around, but then again—she hit the call button. “Hello?”

“Rusty?” A deep voice echoed down the line.

“Who is this?”

“Law.”

Law?
“Why are you calling me in the middle of the damn night?”

“It’s Reid.” There was a pause. “You need to come to the hospital.”

She shoved off the blankets, swung her legs out of bed, and sat up. “What happened?”

“He’s been shot. He’s in rough shape. I don’t know…having you here…I think it could help.”

She was already on her feet, pulling clothes from her closet. “Where are you?”

Law rattled off which hospital they were at and where to find them, then disconnected.

Reid’s been shot.

Law’s words echoed through her head like someone was pounding on a gong, the words getting louder and louder until she wanted to clutch her head in an attempt to stop it.

How? Who? What the hell was going on?

Pulling on a pair of jeans, she yanked a shirt over her head and shoved her feet into a pair of Converse sneakers, then ran out the door. Law had said he was in rough shape. What did that even mean? She started to shake, uncontrollably—what if…

No! Don’t even think it.

Twenty minutes later, Rusty was jogging down a long corridor toward a grim-faced Law. He was leaning against the wall outside one of the rooms, his face lined with worry, his body tense.

“How is he?” She’d managed to hold herself together on the way, but now, seeing the fear on Law’s face, she was close to losing it.

He shook his head. “Don’t know. He just came out of surgery, and they won’t tell me a damned thing.”

The door to Reid’s room opened and a nurse came out, about to walk right by them. Rusty grabbed her arm. “Please. How is he?”

“Are you family?”

“I’m his girlfriend.” The lie slipped past her lips easily, because despite it all, despite everything that had happened, she still loved him. If he came out of this—no, fuck that—
when
he came out of this, she’d make sure he knew it.

Because, dammit, she’d believed him when he told her that he loved her. She hadn’t wanted to. But God, she’d seen it in his eyes when he’d said the words. She’d been too afraid, too much of a coward to risk her heart, to hear him out, to give him another chance.

“Please, we’re going out of our minds here.”

The nurse offered a small smile and rested her hand on Rusty’s arm. “He’s going to be okay. The bullet missed his main organs, and the surgery went really well. It’s still early, but we think he should make a full recovery.”

Rusty collapsed, literally slumped back, unable to keep her knees locked. Law was there in an instant, the big biker’s arms sliding around her waist to hold her up. Tears sprang to her eyes and started flowing uncontrollably.

He’s going to be okay
.
I’m not going to lose him.

She kept saying the words over and over in her head, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Law turned her in his arms and his breath hitched, his relief as acute as hers. “Thank fuck,” he whispered.

The nurse started to leave, and Rusty pulled away, calling out to her. “Can I sit with him?”

She glanced down the hall, then at Rusty. “Okay, but just for a little bit. He needs his rest.”

“Are you coming in?” Law shook his head, and she got the feeling he needed a moment on his own.

“I’ll go get us some coffee.” Then he headed off.

Rusty approached the door, heart in her throat, and eased it open. The light was low, but the curtains were open and moonlight spilled in across the white sheets, making them almost glow. Reid lay motionless in his bed, hooked up to several machines, tubes feeding liquids into his veins. His eyes were closed, and those beautiful dark lashes rested on his cheeks. His chest was bare, and a thick white bandage was wrapped around his stomach.

She lifted her hand to her mouth to hold back the sob burning her throat.
Oh, God.

Grabbing a chair, she pulled it close, as close as she could, and sat beside him. His hand lay at his side, and she took it in hers, turning it over. Holding it to her mouth, she kissed his big, strong, callused palm and lifted it to her face, drawing in his scent, his warmth. Despite the smell of hospital and disinfectant, his skin smelled the way it always did. Spicy, with a hint of motor oil. It went a long way to calming her. She placed her other hand on his wrist, feeling his pulse strong against her fingers, and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He’s going to be okay. He’s not leaving me.

And she wasn’t leaving his side, not until he opened his eyes, not until she got a chance to tell him what she needed to tell him.

That she loved him.

S
un battered against Rusty’s eyelids, the warmth of it heating her face.

She didn’t open her eyes, couldn’t, not yet. There’d been some complications after Reid’s operation. He’d cracked his head hard when he’d hit the ground, and there’d been some swelling. They’d decided to keep him under for a few days.

The swelling had gone down the day before, but he hadn’t woken up yet. She was terrified. What if he didn’t wake up? What if she never got to look into those pale brown eyes and tell him that she loved him?

So no, she couldn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t ready. Couldn’t bear to look at him lying there, so still. Not yet.

Alex and Piper had stopped by with a change of clothes and some decent food. Not that she could eat anything.

Law had brought Reid’s mother to the hospital that first night, and they’d sat together in this room every day. But right now, she was alone. Carol had left hours ago, had gone home to get some sleep, grab a shower. And Rusty had curled up in the chair by the window, the one right by Reid’s bed, and had tried to catch a few minutes sleep. She’d obviously slept longer than she intended because now it was morning. She couldn’t just lie here, hiding. Reid needed her to be strong, no matter how hard, how painful it was.

Brushing her hair off her face, she dragged her eyes open and turned to his bed.

A pair of pale brown eyes stared back.

She blinked, couldn’t move, could barely breathe—just held his gaze, unable to look away.

“Rusty?”

That rough voice went through her, over her, caressing her. She blinked again, and a hot tear streaked down her face. Still she couldn’t move, throat too tight to speak.

“Baby…don’t cry.” He reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips, the same way she had his that first night. His lips were warm and dry. “Come here.”

“You’re awake.”

“Yeah, baby. Now come here.”

“You’re going to be okay.” She started shaking, not realizing until that moment how truly terrified she’d been, scared out of her mind that he might never wake up, that he might have suffered permanent damage. Her teeth started chattering and another tear fell, followed by another.

“Shit.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Foxy, you gotta come here.” He started to struggle in his bed, trying to get up, and that managed to break through the shock, the paralyzing relief.

Scrambling off the chair, she went to him. The grip he had on her hand moved to her wrist, and he gently tugged her closer. “Get up here.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Now, Foxy. I need to feel you beside me.”

Still shaking, she climbed up beside him as careful as she could, and when she wriggled in close, one of his arms slid around her shoulders, and he pulled her in tight. That’s when she felt it.

He was shaking, too.

They lay there, wrapped around each other for a while, neither one speaking, just holding on. She’d had conversations with him in her head while she’d waited for him to wake up. But now, her tongue wouldn’t form the words. She was still too overwhelmed by everything that had happened, by the strength of her feelings for the wounded man in her arms. And those wounds weren’t just physical.

She tried to sit up. “Do you need anything? I should probably get a nurse or something. They’ll want to know you’re awake.”

“Stay right where you are.” His grip tightened. “They know I’m awake. I opened my eyes four hours ago. Law’s been in here as well.” His thumb moved against the bare skin of her arm. “He told me you haven’t left my side in four fuckin’ days, Foxy. You’ve barely left this room.” His mouth pressed against the top of her head, and he spoke against her hair. “Tell me. Why’d you do that? Why have you sat at my side, holding my hand, for four days?”

His voice was rough, full of need and anguish. It broke her heart all over again. “I…I couldn’t stay away. Reid…I…”

“Say it. I need to hear you say it, Rusty.”

He sucked in a breath, and she felt him hold it, chest stilling and staying that way, while his heart hammered against her hand. She tipped her face back and stared up at him, then, reaching up, cupped his jaw. His beard, thicker than usual, tickled her palm. Looking into his eyes, her mind cleared. All the speeches she’d practiced weren’t important anymore, none of it was.

She brushed her thumb over his whiskers, across his lips. “I didn’t leave because I love you, Reid Parker. More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. And from now on, I’m staying right here, by your side.” She turned her face into him and kissed his chest, then looked up into his eyes. “That a good enough reason for you?”

He released his breath on a
whoosh
and squeezed his eyes shut for several long seconds
.
“I won’t fuck it up again. I promise you that. I’m sorry, Rusty. I…”

She placed her fingers over his lips and shook her head. “Just promise me we’ll always be honest and upfront with each other. That if you go to that dark place again, you won’t shut me out. Promise me you’ll talk to me.”

He kissed her fingertips. “I promise, baby.”

“Now say it,” she whispered. “I need to hear it, too.”

His eyes heated, and he slid his hand into her hair. “I love you so fucking much, Rusty.” His gaze searched hers, and she could see it, right there in his pale eyes. “Now come here and give me your mouth.”

She shimmied higher, placed her hands on either side of his face, and did as her man asked—she kissed him. Kissed him with all the love in her heart, with everything she had.

When she pulled back, he smiled up at her and said it again, said the words that made her heart soar, made her the happiest woman on the goddamn planet. “I love you, Rusty West, and I’m never letting you go, not ever again.”

She grinned. “Good, ’cause the only way they’re gonna get me off this bed is with a crowbar.”

Then her smile got a whole lot bigger, because he threw his head back and laughed.

Did you love this Indulgence? Check out more of our category romance titles
here
!

And for exclusive sneak peeks at our upcoming books, excerpts, contests, chats with our authors and editors, and more…

Be sure to like us on
Facebook

Follow us on
Twitter