Authors: Erica O'Rourke

Tangled (28 page)

BOOK: Tangled

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C
HAPTER
45

W
e didn’t say much as Colin let me into his place, the half workshop, half apartment he’d built inside an old warehouse. From the street, it was just run-down enough to be anonymous without attracting squatters or vandals. Inside, it was exactly what I’d come to expect from Colin. Sparse but comfortable. No knickknacks, nothing personal except the shelves of books, which ran to American classics and a lot of short stories. A wood stove in one corner, a weight bench and speed bag in the other. I was careful not to look at the door that led to the bedroom. I’d slept there only once, fitfully, while Colin dozed on the couch. My stomach fluttered at the memory.

“You hungry?” he asked as he stowed his gun in the locked cabinet.

“Not really. Sleepy, though.”

He crossed the room again, his feet echoing on the cement floor, and stopped less than a foot away from me. “I should take you home.”

“That’s the last place I should be. I have to figure out what I’m going to tell my mom.”

He frowned a little, and then reached for my scarf, rubbing the red wool between his fingers. My breath caught. The room was so quiet I could hear the rasp of the material against his skin. Slowly, he unwound the scarf from my neck, the knuckles skimming my throat. When he’d tugged the last end free, he set it on the couch and took my gloved hand in his.

I’d never realized before how large his hands were, the square, blunt fingertips dwarfing mine. He peeled my gloves away carefully, refusing to rush. By the time the second one was off, I was dizzy with wanting him, feeling it tingle along the backs of my legs and the length of my spine. He stepped closer, running his hands down the outside of my coat, tucking the gloves into my pockets before returning to the buttons.

I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the seriousness of his expression. I could feel the tug and slide of the buttons as he unfastened each one, cool air edging underneath my coat, and still I felt feverish. He pushed it off my shoulders, the weight suddenly gone, and it seemed like I might float away in the time it took him to toss it over the couch.

And then he crushed me so close that the air squeezed out of my lungs. I tilted my head back to find him right there, eyes dark gray and intent. The line of his mouth was soft and inviting, and the kiss was like coming home, it felt so right.

We didn’t move from that spot for a long time. There was so much I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t have the words, and none of them mattered, really. I was still glowing from the magic and my success and his touch. I had done the impossible. It didn’t seem crazy to think that a shot with Colin—a real one—was possible, too.

Now that I knew the truth about Billy, the power had shifted. I’d help Nick Petros and Jenny bring him down. Colin would be free. We could find someplace in New York for Tess, bring her with us, and start fresh. I was so pleased with myself, I practically purred.

“Hey,” Colin said, his mouth traveling along my jaw. “Where did you go?”

“I’m here. With you.”

He pulled back a little, studying me. “You scared the hell out of me tonight.”

“Forget about it,” I said, going up on tiptoe to taste the hollow of his collarbone. “Everything’s okay now.”

He ducked away. “But it’s not over.”

“No. The magic is part of me. Or I’m part of it. Hard to tell which.” He didn’t seem to share my amusement, and I sighed. “If we’re going to talk about this—”

“We are definitely going to talk about this.”

“Can we sit down at least?” I sank into the worn blue velvet couch, laying my head on his chest. The sound of his heart filled me with a quiet joy.

“The magic was giving you trouble all along,” he said. “That’s why Luc wasn’t taking you Between.”

“My body couldn’t process it. But it won’t hurt me anymore. We have an understanding.” A sense of contentment drifted through me, confirming my words.

“You and the magic.” The disbelief was plain in his voice.

I didn’t want to get into my theory about the magic being sentient, not when I barely understood it myself.

“You lied,” he said. “Which I know from experience you are not a fan of.”

“I kept a secret. Not the same.”

“You’ve had a lot of secrets lately.”

The peaceful, cozy feeling seemed to leach out of the room. “Like what?”

“Other than the magic? How about your source? The one that’s feeding you information?”

I straightened, queasy at the reminder of Colin’s file. “You have secrets, too. Are you going to tell me what Billy has on you? Where you got those scars?”
Please,
I willed him silently,
tell me, so I can stop pretending I don’t know. So I know you trust me the way I trust you. Please, please, please tell me, and I will make it better.

But he didn’t. Instead, he shifted, just far enough to make sure I understood his past was still off-limits. The gesture hurt, and my instinct was to say something cutting back, but I thought about Tess, how their history clung to their everyday lives like barnacles, and stopped myself.

“I’d be okay with it,” I said eventually, slipping my hand into his, loving the way they looked together. “Your past is part of you, right? And I want all of you, Colin, not just the good parts. Everything.”

He brought our joined hands to his lips, and I scooted closer. Something in his expression, in the set of his shoulders, eased. He drew a breath, like he was about to speak, and the intercom buzzed.

He dropped my hand and stood so abruptly I toppled over.

“Who is it?” No matter who was on the other side of the door, it wasn’t good. Colin made a point of keeping his place a secret. Unexpected visitors meant trouble.

He stalked over to the intercom and jabbed the button with his thumb, peering at the tiny video monitor. “What?”

“Donnelly. Let us in, man. We’re freezing our asses off out here.”

Chilled without Colin next to me, I wrapped myself in a throw blanket. “Who are they?”

“Billy’s guys.”

“Did you give them the address?”

He shook his head once. “What do you need?”

“We want to talk to you, that’s all.” Static burst through the speaker.

He studied the image more closely. “Now’s not a great time.”

“Billy sent us. We can’t leave till we deliver the message.”

“Mo,” he said, after a moment, his voice strangely hollow. “Go in the bedroom. Don’t come out until I say.”

“What? No.”

The voice crackled over the speaker again, less patient this time. “Dude, let us in. We’re trying to be polite. We don’t have to.”

“Give me a minute,” he told them, grabbing my coat and scarf. He pulled me up off the couch, started pushing my arms through the sleeves. “Listen to me. You need to go in the bedroom. There’s a cabinet, the big cherrywood one, against the back wall. I want you to get in and lock it from the inside. Do you understand?”

“Billy sent those guys.”

“Yes.”

“They want to talk. That’s what they said, they had a message.”

“They’re not here to talk. You need to hide. Don’t come out until you’re sure they’ve left.”

“This is crazy, Colin. Talk to them. Let
me
talk to them. They won’t hurt me—”

There was a faint pounding, like someone was hammering on the door, and the buzzer squawked again as he led me into the bedroom. “Donnelly, don’t make this worse.”

“
Now,
Mo. Somebody saw us. Somebody talked. Billy knows.”

“I’ll call him.” I dug in my pocket for my phone. “I’ll straighten it out.”

“You didn’t want me to watch, with the magic. You couldn’t afford to be distracted.” I started to shake, and he continued. “I can’t get out of this if I’m protecting you, too.”

“Can you get out of this at all?”

“I’m going to try. But you need to hide. You can’t see this.”

“Colin ...”

“I knew we shouldn’t. I knew the risk.” He kissed me, whisper soft. “Actions and consequences. And you were worth it. Every single second.”

He shoved me toward the armoire, as a muffled crash sounded in the workshop. “Go!” he said, and pulled the door shut behind him.

I climbed in, just like he said to, and closed the door. It smelled like Colin, wood shavings and laundry soap, and I buried my face in the worn flannel of his shirts. Feeling my way toward the back wall, I pressed my hands hard into the satiny wood. He’d made this cabinet himself. I tried, in the darkness, to envision his hands gripping the wood plane, applying the varnish in smooth, unwavering strokes. The only sounds were the rustle of his clothes and my frantic gasps, and I tried to time my breathing to the imagined rhythm of Colin sanding this piece.

He’d told me to lock the door. I reached back for the bolt, but when my fingers brushed against it, they froze. Colin was out there, his life in danger, because of me. Because I’d pushed, even when he’d told me not to. I’d worn him down, like water turning stone to sand, and now everything was crumbling. All my fault, and I was crouched in a piece of furniture, powerless to stop it.

Except I wasn’t powerless. I reached inside me for the magic, digging deep, and felt the thrum, already so familiar that I barely noticed it. “Come on,” I whispered, trying to call up a line. The magic vibrated a bit in response, but there was no crackling current for me to harness, no wave of energy to use against the guys coming for Colin. “Come on, damn it!”

I could feel the power sliding through my veins, wrapping itself around me like a vine, the bond as strong as the instant it had formed. But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t use it. I nearly screamed with the unfairness of it, all that power and no way to help.

The rumble of voices from the living room filtered in. The voices stopped, and there was a thud and grunt from the other room, the sickening sound of a fist striking flesh. I clapped my hands over my mouth a second before the shriek escaped. There was a sound of breaking glass and more thuds, and I sagged back.

The magic wasn’t going to save me, and it wasn’t going to save Colin. He hadn’t even
tried
to run, and for an instant I was furious with him. But where would he go? Tess was here. And Colin was honorable enough to think that he needed to pay for violating Billy’s trust.

I didn’t have that problem. I didn’t trust Billy, and he didn’t trust me, and if Colin wasn’t going to save himself, I would.

Without magic.

C
HAPTER
46

I
cracked the cabinet door open and crept out, trying to ignore the sounds in the other room. I needed to be rational. Colin kept his guns in the cabinet out front. But he wouldn’t sleep at night without some kind of protection, a weapon he could reach quickly and easily. Where would he hide it?

Scrambling across the room, I yanked open the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed and found nothing. Same for the other nightstand. Under the bed? I dropped to the floor and slithered underneath, but all I found were a few dust bunnies and an old copy of
Walden.

It had to be somewhere close by. I tried to imagine Colin sleeping here, waking to an intruder. The first thing he’d do would be hit the ground, putting the bed between him and the door. I knelt down, grateful for the area rug cushioning my knees from the cement floor. He’d poured the floors himself, he’d told me once. He’d been so proud, which seemed like a total guy thing to be excited about. I didn’t have the heart to tell him they were hard as hell and icy cold.

There was no place to hide anything. Nothing under the mattress, no furniture except the nightstand on this side, which I’d already checked. I scooted back under the bed, trying to see if he’d taped a gun to the underside or the headboard, but there was still nothing. I wriggled out again, dislodging the rug.

And there it was. No wonder he’d been so proud. A square slab of cement had been cut out and replaced, grooves chiseled into the surface so it was easier to grip. My fingers scrabbled for it, the slab coming away with a grinding sound. Beneath it was a hollowed-out space, holding a gun and several cartridges of bullets.

My hands shook as I lifted it out, the metal oily against my fingertips. I had no idea how to shoot a gun. I didn’t even know if it was loaded. I’d nagged Colin about it when we first met, told him I should be able to protect myself. He’d dismissed the idea. You’d think being right would have been more satisfying, but the noises from the other room were sounding worse—I heard Colin moan and cough, a wet sound that couldn’t mean anything good.

Maybe it worked like a camera, point and shoot. And maybe I wouldn’t have to shoot. I really,
really
hoped I wouldn’t have to shoot.

No one noticed when I slipped into the living room. Gripping the gun like I’d seen on TV, I pointed it at the heavier of the two guys—the one kicking Colin in the ribs.

“Leave him alone.”

My voice sounded small to me, insubstantial amid the violence, but it was enough to make all three men jerk around and stare. Colin lay sprawled on the floor, his face battered, blood dripping from a cut over his eye. Even so, he still managed to shoot me a furious look.

“Stop right now,” I said, and I might not have been able to call up magic, but I leaned on it anyway, to keep my voice strong. Its presence was a reminder I was more than these guys saw, more than anyone saw, and the knowledge steadied my aim.

“Don’t touch him again. Go stand over there.” I angled my head toward the door. “Stand there and don’t move, or I swear to God, I will shoot you.”

The bigger guy turned toward me. “You’re Billy’s niece? Jesus, Donnelly. She doesn’t even have a decent set of ...” He gestured, crudely, to his chest.

I cut him off. “Hey! Don’t insult the girl with the gun.”

The little one spoke. “Kid, put that down before you hurt yourself.”

“I don’t think so. Colin, are you okay?”

He groaned, the sound turning into a cough. “Mo ...”

I knelt next to him. “Do you need a hospital?”

“No hospital,” he wheezed. “You were supposed to hide.”

“I didn’t like that plan.”

The heavyset guy took a step toward me, and I trained the barrel on him. “I really will shoot you. I won’t even feel bad about it.”

He took another step. “Sweetheart, you’re not gonna shoot anybody. You don’t have it in you.”

I locked my elbows, keeping the gun steady while I clambered to my feet. “Really? I am
Billy Grady’s niece
, you dumb-ass. You just hurt someone I love.” I adjusted my grip and planted my feet, like I’d seen Colin do. “Are you seeing the family resemblance yet?”

He paled. “Right. Sorry. And sorry about the ... uh ...” He waved his hands vaguely. “The comment.”

“We were just doing what Billy asked,” whined the second guy.

“Where is he now? Morgan’s?”

They exchanged a look. “Yeah.”

I blew out a breath and felt in my coat pocket for my phone. Lena answered on the second ring.

“Hey. I need your help.” The gun was too heavy to hold with one hand. I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder, switching back to a two-handed grip.

“Calc test help or sneaking out of the house help?”

“Colin’s hurt, and I have to take care of something. If I give you the address, can you come and take care of him?”

There was a long, long silence. “How hurt?”

“Hurt,” I said. “But he doesn’t like hospitals.”

“Where are you going?”

I gave Billy’s thugs my sunniest smile. “To see my uncle.”

BOOK: Tangled

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