by Linda Kage
But my answer only made her squeeze her eyes shut and cry harder. “Not if I k-killed our baby.”
“No, don’t even think that way. You didn’t kill anything. Fucker,” I muttered when some dumbass turned in front of us to only go ten miles per hour. I swerved around him.
Three blocks left. St. John’s rose up from its surrounding buildings, its bright red hospital cross on the side, a beacon of hope. Almost there. “How far along are you?”
“Sev...seven and a half months. Only thirty weeks.”
I reached out and covered her trembling hand on her stomach and squeezed briefly as I turned into the hospital’s parking lot. “Your baby will be fine.”
She looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears, and in that moment I knew she believed me because everything around her calmed.
“Will you call Quinn for me? Tell him...”
When I parked at the entrance of the emergency room, she turned and looked up at the glass-fronted foyer. Her composure from moments ago dissolved. Sobbing uncontrollably, she hugged herself tight. “I want Quinn.”
I left her briefly to hurry around the car to her side. There was even more blood than before, but I didn’t let my gaze linger on that. I scooped her into my arms and spun her toward the entry doors that slid open for us. Someone must’ve seen us coming; a nurse was already pushing an empty wheelchair our way.
After I set the woman down, she looked up at me with fear and panic, watching me take a step back while half a dozen more medical workers swarmed her. They barraged her with questions, but she kept watching me, her gaze begging.
“You’ll get Quinn? My husband.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
That seemed to quiet her. She turned her face aside to answer a nurse’s question, and they whisked her away, leaving me standing there like a clueless dumbass.
I glanced back at the silver Lexus, its engine still running in front of the opened hospital entrance. Realizing I had no idea what the woman’s name had been, or how to contact her husband Quinn, I lifted my hands to wipe my face. But something red on my palms made me stop. My fingers froze halfway to my mouth, and I swallowed at the sight of fresh blood coating my skin. A wave of nausea swept over me.
Blood on my hands.
The last time I’d looked down and found blood dripping from my fingers, I’d just killed two men.
He returned a week later. I hadn’t honestly taken him at his word when he’d said he’d smear baby poop on my brother’s bed for every diaper he had to change. But there he appeared in the doorway to Garrett’s room when I was exiting my own to head downstairs one evening.
We both stopped cold, wide-eyed and caught in the act.
Finally, I scowled and set my hands on my hips. “You did not,” I whispered harshly. “Not again?”
His grin was instant and so cute it melted my frown to mush. Then he gave a careless little shrug.
With a roll of my eyes, I muttered, “Oh, but let me guess. You didn’t steal anything, right?”
Lifting his hands, he turned them to show me his clean palms. “Not even that brand new laptop on his desk.”
I sighed and shook my head. “You can’t keep doing this. You’re going to get caught.”
His gaze scrolled down my body, making me warm enough to remember I wore nothing but shorty shorts and a tank top. Then he murmured, “I haven’t gotten caught yet?”
“Uh, excuse me?” I lifted an eyebrow, playing indignant. “And just what do you think me coming out of my room and seeing you here is called?”
“Luck?” He flashed me another grin that, yeah, turned me into one of those girls—those stupid girls who abandoned all thought and reason for a pretty boy smile.
My brain jumbled; I didn’t even know how to respond. A giddy blush rose up my throat, but I swallowed it back down. I couldn’t help the feeling, though; I liked thinking he considered running into me as lucky.
Except I couldn’t let him know that.
I forced a scowl. “I hope you have a good escape route planned because—”
The clatter of footsteps on the stairs squashed my lecture short. The Parker boy and I gaped at each other. He began to edge in reverse, back into Garrett’s room, but from the sounds of the voices approaching, Garrett and his friend Tad were the two coming up, which meant they’d surely discover anyone in his room within moments.
Without pausing to think my decision through, I waved him forward. “Quick. In here.”
His gaze flashed toward the stairs. A breath later, he darted to me. I grabbed his arm and yanked him into my room, shoving the door shut behind us just as I saw the top of someone’s head clear the second level.
I covered my mouth with my hand, breathing hard into my palm. Oh man, that had been close. I looked up at the boy to see if he shared my thoughts, but he was too busy staring into my room with a look of horror.
“Is this your bedroom?”
I frowned and leaned past him to try to view my room as if I were seeing it for the first time, because seriously, what the heck did he mean, saying it like that? It didn’t look that bad to me. It wasn’t all pink, and frilly, or overly girly at all. In fact, it was decorated in tones of blue. I didn’t even have pictures of my favorite male movie stars tacked to my walls, mainly because my mother would’ve disowned me if I had, though a life-sized poster of Stephen Amell would’ve looked so good right above my bed.
The covers on my mattress were neatly made, no clothes littered the floor, even my books were all lined precisely on my bookshelves. It was a perfectly respectable bedroom, if I did say so myself.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“What?” He sounded distracted as he turned to me. I drew in a breath, not realizing we’d been so close. But when he was looking at me, with his gaze boring into mine, it felt as if there was nothing between us. No space. No air. Just him and me.
“Nothing,” he finally said, sounding dazed.
It really wasn’t fair that he should be so beautiful. His brown eyes had a golden quality to them today, but his hair still looked as dark and carelessly arranged as it’d been days before, as if he never combed it with anything but his fingers.
“Then why did you sound so appalled?”
His golden eyes tweaked with confusion before he looked back into my room. “I didn’t. I just...” He turned back to me. “I shouldn’t be in here.”
A quiet laugh blurted from my lips. “You shouldn’t be anywhere in this house.”
“Good point.” He opened his mouth to say more, but an enraged shout from Garrett’s room told us my brother had discovered his newest diaper present.
I grabbed the boy’s hand and jerked him away from the door, taking him by surprise so that he had to stumble after me. “This way.”
I debated where to stash him. The closet? The chest? Under the bed?
Footsteps rushed from Garrett’s room; I didn’t have much time to decide. I dragged him into my private bathroom with me. Just as I shut the door and locked it, Garrett stormed into my room roaring, “Felicity!” A second later, his fist pounded on the door in front of me.
I yelped quietly and jerked back, stumbling into the Parker boy who caught me against him, making me notice I was still holding his hand.
Glancing up into his golden brown eyes, I found a measure of comfort. So I kept peering into them as I called back to my brother. “What? I’m in the bathroom.”
“Did you see anyone come through here? Some fucking dead boy?”
“Yeah, Garrett. I have a boy in here with me while I shave my legs.” Parker’s eyes widened before I added, “What do you think? Geez, no, I have not seen a boy in here.”
A thump reverberated through my door as if my brother had just hit it with his fist in frustration. I jumped and then...I didn’t mean to, but I sank closer to the boy beside me. His fingers tightened reassuringly around mine. When Garrett didn’t try to slam his way into my bathroom, I slumped against the boy, and he seemed to sha
re my relief because he leaned against me in return.
“Not a good time to be a smart-ass, Felicity,” Garrett growled. “If you see him, let me know immediately.”
“Okay,” I called and rolled my eyes.
And that was that. Releasing a breath as my brother’s footsteps charged from my room, I smiled at my bathroom companion.
But his confusion was obvious; he didn’t smile back. “You just lied for me.”
Yeah, I didn’t quite understand why I’d gone to so much trouble for him either. If Garrett ever found out what I’d done, he’d show me the same lack of mercy he’d show his diaper vandal. Except I knew I’d do it the same way again if given a second chance.
“Well, I...I didn’t want to become an accomplice to murder, I guess. And he would kill you.”
But we both knew that wasn’t the reason at all. As his attention fell to my lips and then dragged down my body, my cheeks flushed and my nerve endings crackled with electricity. By the time he made his way back up to my eyes, he was swiping the top of his teeth over his bottom lip.
“What’s your first name?” I blurted the question, though by now I already knew the answer.
I’d pulled out every school album I owned after our first encounter, and I’d spent an entire evening—or three—pouring over each picture I found of him. But I’d die before I let him know that.
“Knox,” he said with a slight rasp in his quiet voice.
Wow, I liked how he said his name. It sounded so much better than me reading it in my head, or me doodling it on a scrap of paper, or me sighing it while I daydreamed impossible scenarios.
I nodded stupidly at Knox. Knox Parker. Knox Arrow Parker. “I’m Felicity.”
He didn’t answer, and I blushed hard. Even if he hadn’t already known my name, he’d just heard Garrett yell it through the doorway.
I was such a moron.
Growing warm from an embarrassed heat, I brushed my hair out of my eyes with one hand and glanced at the locked bathroom door. As I did, pressure on my other hand drew my attention down to where my fingers were, yes, still clinging to Knox Parker’s calloused boy fingers.
But I didn’t let go of him, and he didn’t let go of me.
“How’s your head?” he whispered.
I tore my gaze from our hands to frown at him, confused. “My...what?”
Amused, he grinned. “Did I push you against the tree so hard you forgot you hurt your head the other day?”
“Oh.” I touched the back of my hair where the goose egg was long gone. “Oh...that. Yeah, it’s fine. I’m as good as new again. Or...you know, as good as I was before, which...really isn’t saying much, but...yeah, I’m okay.”
I cleared my throat and jerked my hand from my hair before I went back to staring at our interlaced fingers. It didn’t seem natural that I was elated, wanting this moment to last forever, and yet uncomfortably self-conscious, wanting to die from mortification, at the same time. But if I did die right then with my hand warm in his, I was sure I’d go a happy girl.
Which had to be wrong.
I needed to stop the madness.
“How long do you think we should wait until the coast is clear?”
A muffled yell reverberated through the house.
Knox glanced from the doorway to me. “A bit longer, I’d guess.”
I smiled, and he smiled back.
“It’s going to be a miracle if we get you out of here without anyone seeing you.”
He nodded, but he didn’t seem too concerned about it. He just kept watching me, until I cleared my throat, which seemed to alert him to what he was doing.
Shifting his attention to the vanity, he took in a counter full of all my scattered, intimate toiletries. I cleared my throat again, a little unnerved by his inspection.
“Sorry, it’s...yeah, a total mess in here.”
His gaze veered back to me. “You’re not like them, are you?”
I blinked, not following. “Like who?”
He hitched his chin toward my bathroom door. “The rest of your family.”
A slice of helpless depression swept over me. I glanced down at my hands—our hands—clasped together in such a familiar way. The comfort of holding on to him sat in stark contrast to the way every other awkward part of me felt.
“No,” I admitted glumly. “I guess not. I’m kind of the misfit.”
Definitely the misfit.
When Knox let out a small breath, I looked up. He’d furrowed his brows and pursed his lips as if he had something to say to that, except he didn’t.
I pulled my hand from his, sure he’d be glad to finally be free of me.
My fingers felt cold and slightly damp from pressing them against his, so I rubbed my palm against my hip, but then felt sad about scrubbing his touch away.
Spinning to hide my mortification, I reached for the door handle. “I’ll see if they’re still looking for you.”
Except another stifled shout had me yanking my fingers from the door.
“Or not.” I turned back to him. “So what do you want to do to pass the time?” I blurted, my skin prickling with the worst case of nerves in my entire life. “I mean, we could...”
I glanced around the bathroom.
There were tons of things a person could do in a bathroom, but none of them seemed like something one could do with a near stranger. A frown tugged at my brow. Well, crap. I kind of sucked as a hostess.
Knox laughed softly, and I jerked my attention to him.
His brown eyes twinkled with a warm humor that had me catching my breath in awe.
He shifted closer. “When I said you weren’t like them, I meant nice.” He waved a hand in my direction. “I meant you were nice, not some kind of weird misfit.”
My mouth fell open. The expression on my face must’ve alerted him to how strongly his words affected me.
Color lit his cheeks. He cleared his throat and glanced away. “I mean, you’re not...you know.” When he flailed out his hand, I frowned, totally confused.
He cleared his throat again. “You know that day my dad dragged us all here...”
I nodded, letting him know I remembered it well.
He nodded too. “Yeah, well... Everyone in your family looked at us as if we were trash. Your mom, your dad, both your brothers. But you...you’ve never looked down on me like that. Not then, and not now.”
My lips parted. It was such a profound compliment; I didn’t know how to respond with as much flattery as he had delivered. So I mumbled, “Well, I really can’t...you know, look down on you. You’re way too tall for that.”
When he chuckled, my chest flooded with pleasure. I’d said the right thing.
“You’re funny.” Reaching out, he caught a piece of my hair and rubbed it between his fingers.
I think he liked my hair. That made me feel...warm...all over.
“Funny, pretty, and nice,” he murmured more to himself than to me. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
My mouth fell open. My head was so jumbled with crazy, crushy feelings I knew I shouldn’t be having, I had no idea how to reply.
“So, really,” he said, continuing on as if he hadn’t just flipped my world upside down. “What are we going to do to pass the time?” Strand by strand, he let my hair tumble from his fingertips before he gathered another lock and repeated the action.
When his gaze shifted to my mouth, I almost lost myself, sucked into his captivating charisma. But at the last second, I realized how crazy insane lifting up onto my toes and kissing him would be.
I had to stop this.
I was going to crack a comment about how obsessed he’d become with my hair to douse the moment, but then I realized I’d become just as obsessed with watching him play with it.
We were quite the entranced pair.
I licked my dry lips. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
He shrugged, his attention slipping back to my hair as he began to wind it around his finger and force it to
bob into a corkscrew as he pulled his finger free. “If you really need to shave your legs, don’t let me stop you.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, sorry, but I’ve already shaved them today.”
Which was odd. I’d shaved them yesterday too, and the day before that, along with every freaking day since I’d run into him in the woods.
Seriously, what was it about a cute boy that suddenly made a girl want to shave her legs every single day? There had to be something very wrong with that. Damn cute boys.
“But feel free to shave yours.” I motioned my hand toward the bathtub, and he laughed again.
Ugh. What was it about damn cute boys who laughed at a girl’s corny jokes that made her heart beat harder?
“I’ll pass, thanks.”
I loved that I could hear the smile in his voice. My soul sang.
Blowing out a loud, dramatic sigh, I flipped my bangs out of my eyes, only to accidentally brush my hands against his where he was still fiddling with my hair.
Stomach beginning to cramp from all the sensual heat in there, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and rambled out nervous words.
“I guess we could do each other’s hair, paint our toenails and gossip about cute boys, like a regular ol’ slumber party.”
The humor in his eyes made them a darker chocolate brown. “I thought you girls only had pillow fights in your underwear at slumber parties.”
I huffed out a disgusted breath. “Not even close. That’s just what you guys assume we do. The fact of the matter is we pig out until we’re disgustingly bloated, and then we try to burp our bad garlic breath on each other.”
Knox gaped at me as if I’d kicked him in the shin. “You just shattered every dream I ever had about slumber parties,” he said in the most serious voice I’d ever heard him use.
I blinked before I realized he was joking. Then I cracked a grin and shoved at his shoulder. “Whatever.”
“No, seriously. Please tell me there’s at least some experimental kissing. Or boob touching to compare sizes. Trying on each other’s panties?”
“Eww.” I sent him a glare, but he only laughed.
“Oh, come on. You gotta give me something. There has to be at least one indecent thing that actually happens at slumber parties, or there’s no hope left in the world.”
