by E. M. Moore
It pains me to think about this because if that ever happens, it means I didn’t make it. But it also comforts me to know that they’d be taken care of. Maybe Oscar could use some of the money I have to pay for college. He could show someone who cares what he’s really made of. He could make it all the way to the NFL.
And Brawler, he only needs money to continue training. I can talk to Jax and Finn, and even though they might not be able to train him directly, I’m sure they could point him to someone who can.
Johnny? Well, if I don’t make it, it might be because of him, huh?
I change my train of thought because I just can’t handle that. Instead, I glance up into Mag’s eyes. “When you said you wanted to be yourself, what did that mean, Jacob?”
He shivers, and I have to admit, I used his real name intentionally. His walls are always up, barriers barricading him like a fortress. Calling him that makes them shake a little. He kisses my forehead again and pulls away. “I just want to be the person I was meant to be before the Crew entered my life and upended it.”
“Do you know who that person is?”
“Pieces, maybe,” he admits. “Finding yourself is hard to do when outside forces demand you’re something else.”
“So, when we leave the Heights, you just want to go all hippie and travel where the wind blows you?”
He smirks. The last thing I can imagine Mag doing is being a hippie. Although, all that glorious red hair would be nice. He chuckles. “No, not exactly, but it would be nice to see different things. Experience different things without the confines of the Heights and the Crew.”
“I think you might just be a hippie yet,” I tease.
He groans and buries his head in my neck. “Far from it.”
I hold him to me, loving the feel of the warmth of his body next to mine. “We need to come up with a way to get to know each other. Actually, scratch that. You know everything there is to know about me. I need to get to know you better.”
He shakes his head. “I have a feeling none of us have even scratched the surface yet when it comes to you, Angel.”
I shiver at his pet name. I really, really like it. It’s the way he says it too. Like a purr that rolls off his tongue.
“Why don’t we start with asking each other questions?”
“Hmm.” The rumble from his lips vibrates the nape of my neck. “Since I really want to kiss you right now, let’s start there. First kiss?”
I cringe. “I was thirteen, and it was awful,” I tell him. “I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up. I had it built up in my head that it was going to be the best thing ever because I’d had a crush on the guy for the last few months. Well, it was slobbery, and the boy ended up telling everyone I tasted like fish.” Fucker. I was vulnerable in the new, rich kid school my aunt put me in. My classmates knew I didn’t come from money, and it turned out this boy was just playing me.
“You definitely don’t smell like fish. You smell like...” He breathes in deep, dragging the tip of his nose across the arch of my neck. There’s something so sensual about it that my toes nearly curl in my shoes. “...a garden in the summer.”
My knees go weak. It’s true that things get better with age. Magnum must have experience. Not that I want to know the ins and outs of said experience. I shiver. Fuck. I really don’t want to know the ins and outs because my jealousy will flare again.
Come to think of it, it’s kind of fucked that I want four guys to share me, but I don’t want to share. I shrug because, well, that’s me, so whatever.
“Don’t distract me,” I tell him.
“You’re easily distracted.”
I smile because it certainly seems like I’m easily distracted around them. I put some space between us, pulling back a little. “Your first kiss?”
“There was a girl down the road when I was six. I pecked her cheek.”
“No, no, no. Real kiss. With tongue.”
He groans. “Why don’t we just say that my kiss with you—with tongue—was the first one I’ve ever really enjoyed.”
He full-on distracts me then, moving in to cover my mouth with his, sending sparks of electricity through me as he claims my lips over and over again until I can’t even remember the boy’s name who pissed me off when I was thirteen.
11
Murmuring seeps into my consciousness. I extend my legs out on the bed, stretching like a cat, working the kinks out from the turtle position I’d been sleeping in.
Silence fills the room, which is odd, since I’m sure I heard something loud enough to wake me.
I make myself relax, tucking the pillow back under my head. Magnum fell asleep in the corner chair again. Maybe he talks in his sleep, even though I doubt he even falls asleep. The guy must be working on zero hours. Guilt coats my sleepy haze. I shouldn’t have asked him to stay here again.
The whispers start back up, and this time, I’m sure of it. I listen in case Magnum does talk in his sleep, curious if he’s dreaming about me. He’s starred in a few of my dreams, so at least we could call it even if that’s the case.
My heart freezes in my chest when another voice joins his. I suck in a breath, but I stop myself from reacting even further. Johnny’s here. Not on the phone, in my head, or staring back at me from a computer screen, he’s in this room. I’m sure of it.
“Thank you for watching her,” he says.
“She’s special,” Mag whispers, and my heart squeezes at his words.
I lay there dreamily. If I wasn’t positive they were actually having this conversation, I wouldn’t believe it. Last time Johnny caught someone in the same room with me alone, he beat the shit out of him. Now, Magnum is legit in my bedroom, and Johnny is thanking him. Mag even called me special, and so far, Johnny hasn’t reacted to his words.
“I would’ve been back before…”
“Don’t even mention it,” Mag says. “We know. We get it.”
Johnny sighs. The edge of the bed depresses, and I bite my lip. “Shit’s all fucked up.” The somber, edgy tone in his voice makes me want to wrap my arms around him, but I don’t want to give myself away yet. Plus, if he’s finding someone to open up too, that’s even better. He and Magnum have been close. I don’t know if they’ve ever had a relationship where they talk about shit, but Johnny needs those kinds of people in his life. People he can talk to about anything without repercussions. “I thought I was going to lose her, man. It was worse than her dying because at least then I would know she could never be around. But being sent to prison? She’d be alive, but we couldn’t have the relationship we both deserve. Even worse is knowing that I put her there.”
The chair Magnum is seated on creaks. “You know you can tell me shit, right? We came into the Crew at the same time, that makes us brothers. I mean this respectfully, but I don’t give a shit if you’re K’s son, I support you. You don’t have to isolate yourself on the way to the top.”
I hold my breath, waiting for Johnny’s reaction as my mind swims. If Johnny and Mag joined the Crew at the same time, how come they’re not closer than they are? They took two different ways, but even so, Magnum’s right. They should be more like brothers.
“It’s hard to put into words,” Johnny says, frustration lacing his voice. “Dad thinks all the Marx’s need are each other.”
“But then he hits you.”
“Don’t fucking say it out loud,” Johnny seethes.
“She’s not dumb,” Mag says, voice lowering. “I noticed her expression when she saw you on the video.”
“I’m not weak.”
“No one said you are. No one will fucking say you are.”
“I just have to do better,” Johnny says, as if the bodyguard isn’t even responding to him. Magnum’s trying to pull him into a conversation, but it’s as if he’s only responding to himself.
Mag sighs. “I’m not sure doing better, in the way you’re proposing, will help Kyla.” The chair creaks again. “I’m only saying this because I know how you fee
l about her. Your dad’s not going to like it if she pulls you away from him. You’ve got to be smart about this. You’ve got—”
“I know,” Johnny growls.
Well, that’s my cue to act as if I’ve just woken up.
I sit up on the bed, the sheets pooling at my waist. Johnny looks over his shoulder at me, and the joy that surges couldn’t possibly be faked. I don’t care that he has a black eye his father gave him because he’s a soulless, unforgiving bastard. I don’t care that he’s attached to the system that took my parents. Because Johnny is Johnny, and despite all that shit, there’s a real man under his Crew armor.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
I hold my hand out, and he puts his in mine, squeezing my fingers carefully. “Are you kidding me? You should’ve woken me up as soon as you got here.”
Mag stands from the chair. He and I exchange a look over Johnny’s head, and all stealth-like, he winks at me while Johnny’s back is turned.
Johnny slips his hand from mine and turns to Mag. He holds his hand out, and they give each other a firm handshake. “Thanks again for watching her.”
“I meant what I said,” Mag says again, and they share a prolonged look. I hope it’s sinking into Johnny’s head that other people care for him, and not the kind of care his father gives him. I mean real caring. The kind that doesn’t come attached to thinly veiled brainwashing and abuse.
“Thanks, Mag. It means a lot to me that you stayed.”
“Whenever you need it,” Magnum says, Adam’s apple bobbing. He turns and leaves without giving me another look. The front door opens and closes, and with that, Johnny and I are alone after all these weeks.
I move to my knees and Johnny meets me, kneeling on the bed. “What’s this?” I ask, my fingers brushing against the dark coloring around his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asks at the same time. His voice breaks, and my heart literally wrenches in half.
“I’m so much better now,” I tell him. “Magnum, Oscar, and Brawler have been taking good care of me, and I missed you and them, and now we’re all here.”
He cups my face, staring deep into my eyes. “You’re right where you should be.”
He has no idea.
“I’m going to kill those assholes. Gregory and his men are dead. They tried to take you from me. Twice.”
I tilt my head.
“The murder rap was a backup plan in case they couldn’t get to you.”
That makes a whole hell of a lot of sense. I briefly considered that it had to have been Gregory who set that one up, but it sounds as if Johnny’s confirmed it. What a bunch of dicks. They killed an innocent girl and then blamed it on me.
“We think what was left of Roza’s guys joined up with them.”
My heart sinks. Of course they did. Because that’s what happens when you’re getting your ass kicked. You team up with someone or something bigger to help retaliate. “They think if they get to me, they’ll break you, but that’s not going to happen.”
“They won’t be getting anywhere near you again.”
“If they do, we got this,” I tell him. I need him to not be so hard on himself. He couldn’t have predicted that it would go down like this. Shit like this isn’t normal.
But even as I’m thinking it, the other part of my brain is saying that it’s normal for the Heights. Shit like this happens here all the time. Fight after fight over power and control. It never ends.
“You’ve got yourself a good team, and we’re all going to make sure nothing happens to any of us,” I tell him.
He bites his bottom lip until it’s swollen and plump. He’s so fucking kissable right now, but the fear dancing in his eyes tells me he wants to say something. “You’re not going to leave me then?”
I reel backward. “Leave you?” The force of his words almost knocks me on my ass. I shake my head. “That’s not happening. Johnny, I care for you.”
He drops his forehead to mine, then picks my hand up and brushes kisses over my knuckles. He closes his eyes. “Let me get this out because it’s the most selfless thing I’ve ever said, and I don’t want to say it, but fuck, I think I finally know what it means.” He pauses for a beat. Underneath his closed lids, his eyes dance, and I wonder what’s lurking in the depths there. “I’ll get you out.” His gaze opens, staring straight into my eyes. “I’ll get you out of the Heights. You’ll be safe. I’ll set you up for life. I’ll—”
“Stop.”
He presses his lips shut, and damn if there aren’t unshed tears in his eyes. Just fuck me. Fuck.
“I’m not leaving you here.”
My heart is a puzzle made up of pieces of Johnny, Brawler, Magnum, and Oscar. I know it because all of them offered to get me out. They’ve all risked life and limb—K’s, and even Johnny’s ire—to make sure I’m safe. The moment I told him I wasn’t leaving him here, another puzzle piece shifted just slightly into place. I meant exactly that. I’m not staying to kill Big Daddy K anymore. I mean, yeah, I’m still going to, but right now, I’m staying for Johnny. I’m staying for him because he said he’d get me out with no thought of escaping with me. He thinks he’s stuck. He’d stay behind, knowing his father would give him more than a black eye after finding out I left. K’s evil knows no boundaries.
Johnny drops his head to my chest and loses it. He clutches my t-shirt in his fists, pulling the fabric tight around me. The noise he makes breaks my heart. I run my hands through his hair and down his back, holding him close. His bowed back, his bent head, it’s as if he’s praying at my altar, which only makes me love him more. Johnny doesn’t submit to anyone or anything, but the fact he feels comfortable enough to do this with me means I know just where he stands in his feelings for me.
“I was hoping you’d say no because I’m a selfish asshole, but even though I’m happy, I hurt too. I don’t want to be like my dad.” He peers up at me. His face contorts in pain, and I hold my breath. “You asked me about my mom once. She left. She got out. She started a new life, and I’ve hated her ever since. The moment she left, she changed my dad, or at least that’s what I thought. I thought she turned him into a monster, but the more I learn, the more I realize he’s been a monster all this time. That’s why she left. She didn’t change him. She ran from the person he is.”
I pull him to me and lie back on the bed. We hold one another, and even though my heart breaks for Johnny, it soars for him too. He’s breaking down his barriers. He’s letting me in. He’s letting himself think outside of the Crew box.
“Hey,” I say, threading my fingers through the back of his hair and making him look at me. “I’m not running from you.”
His eyes close, and he draws in a ragged breath. He tries to dip his head again, but I hold him tight, making sure we’re looking at one another.
I smile, a small one that only teases the corners of my lips. Hesitation almost closes my throat, but I’m through pulling punches with him. No, it’s not the time to tell him I’m going to kill his dad, but I’m not going to sugarcoat his father’s personality either. “You’re not like your dad. He’s mean and uncaring, and if your mom left, I’m sure she had a reason. A damn good one.”
“I didn’t understand it until I almost lost you. When I was thinking how much I wanted to get you out so nothing else could happen to you, it dawned on me that my mom did the same thing. She took her future into her own hands, and after that, I just got it. It’s like a switch turned on in my brain. I thought she was a horrible person. Someone who would leave us behind. Selfish and low.” He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think that anymore, Kyla. If you were to leave, I wouldn’t blame you. I’d help you hide. I’ll give you everything.”
“Shh,” I soothe him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“But why?” He swallows. “This place isn’t for you. I can’t keep you safe all the time even though I’ll try like hell.”
My throat dries. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, so I lick my lips to bring life bac
k to my parched skin. “Because I’m not going without you.”
Just like he said a switch went off in his brain about his mother, it happens again now. Johnny reaches for me, kissing me like a crazed man. He parts my lips, delving his tongue inside like he can see my soul from here. He wants to torture it. Soothe it. Ravish it and put me back together.
I moan into him and grab his shirt. “Johnny...”
I’m so caught up in his stare, I don’t notice the slight shake of the bed at first. The rattling of the windows doesn’t register. It isn’t until the loudest explosion I’ve ever heard goes off, rocking me to my core that I hold on to Johnny with a fierce grip as the foundation of the tower shakes.
A violent tremor rolls through the building. The door to the apartment opens, and Johnny jumps, clearing my body and the bed as he lands on his feet closest to the bedroom door. He fists his hands at his sides.
Magnum rushes inside, yelling, “Bomb! Get out. Get out. We have to get out.”
I leap from the bed next, putting my hand in Johnny’s outstretched palm. Magnum ushers us forward, taking up the rear as we sprint toward the apartment door. Once we clear it, Johnny pulls me to the right, the opposite direction of the elevators. My bare feet pound the carpet as we run. At the end of the hall, he opens a cleverly disguised Emergency Exit and we spill out into a stairwell.
The building vibrates beneath our feet, along with sounds I’ve only ever attributed to knocking or creaking that rip through the building.
“Watch the exit!” Mag calls out behind us. “It could be a trap.”
After sprinting down the stairs, we explode out into a landing that leads to an exterior exit door. Magnum moves in front of us. He pulls a gun out of a foot holster and hands it to Johnny. Then he takes a knife from the same holster and holds it out to me. “Do not wait for either of us. Run to Oscar’s. Don’t turn around.”
