by Lucy Smoke
tries to keep a passive face.
"Get your ass back in bed," Dean growls as he leaves his father and
moves back towards me. His hands find my waist and he lifts me as if I
weigh nothing—definitely not the buck fifty I know I am. My ass hits the bed
and my fist crashes into his abdomen.
"Hands off," I snap as he doubles over slightly and rubs the spot I
punched. "I'm leaving and unless you're going to help me, then don't fucking
touch me, Dean."
"Ava—" Braxton tried.
I cut him off without a second thought. "Get out!" I turn and glare across
the room, first at Nicholas, then Abel, and then Braxton. "Everyone but Dean,
get out. Abel, go tell the doctor I'm leaving."
"You really shouldn't—" he starts.
"Do it," Dean says, stopping him.
Abel's face goes slack with shock. "You're really going to let her do this?"
Abel’s high if he thinks Dean lets me do anything, but I don’t get a
chance to say so.
"We need to have this discussion," Nicholas huffs.
Dean straightens and turns to the rest of the room. "Abel, go get her
checked out. Braxton go find her some clothes from my car. There should be
a gym bag in the trunk. And you..." Dean's eyes go cold when he regards his
father, "just get the fuck out."
"Dean, she's still in danger—" Nicholas argues.
"We're not doing this here," I snap, catching his attention. "You will tell
me what you know." There's no fucking way he's getting out of it, but if I let
him continue here, Dean's going to lose his shit—he’s close enough from the
tightness of his features—and though the hospital, I'm suspecting, is in their
pocket, someone will inevitably call security or worse, the cops, if Dean
starts wailing on Carter Senior right here and now. "Meet us back at the
house in three hours. I should be checked out and ready for you by then."
Nicholas stands there for a moment. His lips are parted and his brows are
high, as if he can't quite believe that a teenage girl is ordering him around.
I've had just about enough of it, though. All of it. The subterfuge. The lying.
The betrayals. More than all of that, though, is the fact that I really fucking
hate hospitals. I want out. I want to go home. I want to call Rylie and tell her
to start using those skills of hers—the ones that got her into the Sick Boys’
realm—to track down Corina Harrison and Ace. There is a lot that needs to
happen and I have very little patience.
As if it finally hits him that I'm not going to offer him another option,
Nicholas slowly nods to Dean and then backs up before turning towards the
door. Braxton unlocks it and holds it open, making sure Dean's father is the
first one out of the room before he and Abel quietly follow, the door snicking
shut behind them. I release a breath.
"Ballsy, baby," Dean says, his voice going quiet. "Very fucking ballsy."
I groan, reaching up and sliding my hands through the hair on either side
of his head. "Do you know how frustrating you are?" I ask him.
His lips twitch before one corner of his mouth quirks up, and then just as
quickly as it appeared, it goes away again and I'm left with a serious Dean.
"Are you really okay?" he asks. "I read your report. You have to be hurting."
I wave away his concern with a scowl. "I'm fucking peachy," I reply. "But
I am serious about getting out of here."
"Ava..." I pause, my eyes down on the floor as I grab his arms and
leverage up and off of the damn hospital bed. I blink back the echoes of pain
in my arm and shoulder.
"I need you focused, Dean." As I say the words, I hope like hell he
doesn't force my face up as I talk. Though my tone is even and my voice
unwavering, one look at my face and he'll realize just how fucking close I am
to losing it. That itch that's always been under my skin is back in full force.
It's a miracle I'm not shaking with the desire to do something reckless. I cut a
look to the window and for a brief moment—against my will—my mind
supplies me with an image of what it'd be like to just jump from it. The wind
against my skin, the power in my veins.
I inhale the want, the need, and then I push it all out on the next exhale.
Only then do I allow myself to meet his eyes. "You promised me that we
would find them," I continue. "That we would make them pay. Don't back out
now."
He frowns. "I'm not—"
"And don't you fucking dare try to lock me up under the guise of keeping
me protected," I snap, cutting him off, and hissing the accusation at him
before he can deny that, too.
His lips tighten, pressing together in a displeased scowl. "You're hurt," is
all he says.
I shove him away from me. "No," I grit out. "No, you don't get to fucking
do that. I'm either in this with you or I'm in it by myself, Dean. You are not
going to tie me to this damn hospital bed and run off trying to find out who
hurt me. I need…" My breath catches as a bolt of panic rockets through me. I
clench my hands into fists and push up from the bed, wobbling slightly as
feeling rushes back to my legs. I wait a moment to make sure I'm good before
I turn and jerk my chin up, glaring at the man who has come to mean more to
me than anyone or anything else in this world.
"I need you to not do what you're planning on doing," I say. In the last
few months, I’ve come to know Dean as well as I know myself. There’s no
doubt in my mind that he’s planning on wrapping me up and stashing me
away somewhere while he goes off to play some knight in black armor. "I
know that's hard for you—to resist that little voice in your head telling you to
lock me up until it's all over, but you will. You’ll do it for me. Because you
know I'm not the bitch that lets you take care of her demons for her. I am not
your fucking damsel, Dean.”
Dean stares at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, his hands lift to my
shoulders. His fingers clench me and yank me forward until my face is
pressed into his shoulder. I wince at the sharp pain that lances through my
own shoulder, but the smell and feel of him against me is worth it. I breathe
him in, letting my hands find his waist. How the fuck was I ever able to resist
this man?
“Okay,” he says. “But no more running off.” He pulls away and glares
down at me, bending slightly so that his eyes are level with mine. “Do you
understand me, baby? The second you lie to me or run from me, any freedom
you have now will be revoked. Even if it’s as simple as going to see Rylie, I
need to know. For however long this takes, you’re going to be glued to my
side—and if you’re not with me, you’ll be with someone I trust.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” I protest.
“I know you don’t, but I need to know you’re safe.”
The desire to buck under these conditions, to tell him to shove these
restraints so far up his ass they won’t ever see the light of day again, is heavy
on my tongue, but I bite it back. “This isn’t forever,” I tell him. “The second
we find Corina, Ace, and whoever the fuck is controlling them, I get my
freedom back.”
> He smirks. “I doubt you’ll be able to last that long,” he replies.
My eyes widen. Oh, this fucker…
I lean up on my toes, grabbing the lower half of his face in my grip. My
nails scrape against the prickly shadow of hair on his jawline. “You’ve got
about two weeks,” I tell him honestly. If I’m judging correctly, that’s about
how long I’ll last under his constant guard and watch. “Maybe a month,
depending.”
Dean’s gaze darkens. “We’ll find them, baby,” he tells me, his breath
brushing over my lips. “I swear.”
“Good,” I reply, and then, because I can’t seem to fucking help myself
when it comes to this man, I lean up further and bring my mouth to his.
Dean’s hands clench and his arms encircle me as mine fall away from his
face. His tongue dives into my mouth as my eyes close. Heat—molten and
wicked hot, consumes me. When he lifts away from me once more, the room
feels a bit blurry, and I realize that my body has definitely flushed out what
little pain meds I’d been given when I first arrived hours ago because every-
fucking-thing hurts.
I press my forehead into Dean’s chest. Never in my life have I ever felt as
safe as I do in his arms. It’s unsettling.
Dean’s chest rumbles as he speaks. “We should talk to my father, though.
I’d rather deal with him here than have him at the house.”
I frown and look up. “Isn’t it his house?” I ask.
Dean snorts. “No. It’s mine. Mine and the guys. We own it outright.
Bought it when we first started at Eastpoint. It’s under my name.”
“Oh.” I consider his words for a moment. If I know him like I think I do,
then it doesn’t matter what I say now. Even if I tell him not to—he’ll find a
way to do what he wants. He always does. “Fine,” I finally say. “Tell him to
come in, but don’t fucking lose it. We’ll deal with him and then we’ll go
home.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead and it satisfies something inside of me
to feel his lips against my skin in that chaste way. We’ve never been chaste—
the two of us. It’s always been a riot of bloody fights between us. Even the
sex had been uncontrolled. But this … this is something different. When he
steps away and I sag back into the side of the hospital bed, I can’t help but
track his movements across the room and he glances back once, giving me a
brief smile that’s full of his usual arrogance before disappearing into the
hallway.
Fuck me, but I really am screwed by Dean Carter.
4
DEAN
"DEAN, YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO ME." THE SECOND I STEP OUT OF AVALON'S
hospital room, my father is there. I turn just as he approaches me, but that's as
far as he gets. My hands clench into the front of his finely pressed shirt and I
shove him against the opposite wall. An orderly approaching from the right
gasps and spins right around, scurrying away.
"No," I growl. "You need to listen for a change. Avalon is mine—do you
know what that means?" I don't give him the opportunity to reply. "That
means she's under my protection. What happened last night will never happen
again, are we clear?"
"Damn it, Son, you don't think I'm worried about her?" My old man has
been a cold bastard for as long as I've known him, so the tightness in his
voice is a surprise to me. It's not angry. If anything, it's concerned.
"I don't know what you are," I state plainly. "I don't know you at all. All I
know is the man you've shown me, and I'll tell you this right now, I'll make it
as clear as I possibly can, that man—the Nicholas Carter that I know—isn't
welcome around my girlfriend."
"Dean, there are things you don't know," my father presses.
"I know," I say. "Which is why you're going to tell us."
"You just sent me from her room," he points out; his exasperation is clear.
I glare at him a moment longer and then slowly, I unclench my fists from
his shirt and step away. "You're going to come back in with me and you're
going to tell Avalon and I both what the hell kind of secret you've been
keeping. Then you are going to stay the hell away from her."
Nicholas's face blanches. "Dean, you have to know, the information I
have is … delicate. No one outside of our family can know."
I stiffen at his meaning. "Braxton and Abel are family," I say. They're
closer family than he ever has been.
He shakes his head. "They can't know."
"I'm not keeping it from them, and neither will she." I know that much at
least. Avalon and I are past that. We're through with the secret keeping.
Whatever I know, she will too.
My father shakes his head. "Then I can't tell you what I know."
"What?" I gape at him. "You just told me that we needed to know. That
she's in danger."
Nicholas visibly grits his teeth. "Dean, I can't help if you don't let me.
You have to trust me."
I can't trust him. I don't trust him. I shake my head.
Silence stretches between the two of us. We're so close—barely two feet
from each other—and yet it's as if we're continents away. My father's head
lifts and as he stares at me, for the first time in my life, I see him as he
actually is. I don't see the all-powerful man who rules the Eastpoint empire
with an iron fist. He's got age lines, marks under his eyes and around his
mouth. Frown lines. It's clear that life has not been as easy as I always
assumed it was for him. He looks older now than I've ever seen him.
"Then you'll have to keep her safe, Son, because if I go after the men
responsible, she'll need all of the protection she can get," he says.
"Just tell me who it is and I'll take care of it," I demand, but he shakes his
head.
"This is above you, Dean," he replies. "So far above you. Find the girl—
the one who was with her. Hell, go after the people who held her. But you
cannot go after the men responsible for her brush with death."
It should shock me that he knows about Corina, but it doesn't. What I
know, he likely already knew long ago. I'd only wished he'd shared it before
this whole clusterfuck had happened. "I will find out what you're hiding," I
warn him.
Nicholas's lips quirk up on one side and his eyes soften. It's such a strange
look on his face that it forces me to take another step back. I don't trust that
look. "I know you will, Son," he replies. "But not before I do what needs to
be done. You've already taken enough of this family's sins upon yourself,
don't let this be another one."
"You were the one who forced those sins on me," I hiss through clenched
teeth.
He nods. "Yes, I am," he agrees. "And look at the man you've become.
Strong. Competent. Capable. You can protect her."
He turns to go, and a bolt of panic hits me. Avalon deserves the
information that he has if nothing else. "At least tell her what you won't tell
me," I urge.
Nicholas Carter pauses as if considering my request but then he looks
back and shakes his head. "Her loyalty is to you and the boys," he says. "You
were right. She'll share any information I give her with the t
hree of you and if
that happens, then there will be no stopping the chain of events I'm trying to
prevent."
"Goddamn you," I snap. "At least give me something. She deserves to
know the truth—whatever that is. Why did you have us watch her?"
Nicholas inhales a shaky breath and closes his eyes before tilting his head
back. On his exhale, he opens them and looks directly at me. "Whether you
realize it or not, Dean. You've always been protecting her. Ever since she
arrived." He sighs. "I wanted the three of you to watch her because I knew if
someone didn't she very likely would've disappeared and no one would have
noticed a thing. With your eyes on her, she was safe—even if you hated her
at first."
"You have no idea what I felt for her." I can't stop the denial from coming
out any more than I can stop my own heart from beating. But I know he's
right. When I first met Avalon Manning, I'd hated her very existence. The
way she made my chest clench and my dick tighten. She was a foul mouthed,
gorgeous program princess just asking for someone to push his dick between
those luscious lips of hers and see if those cold cruel eyes would watch as she
drove a man over the brink. She was a little bit heaven and a little bit hell and
she was mine. All fucking mine.
"I have an inkling." Nicholas smirks. "Keep her safe, Dean. I'll tell you
what I can when I can, but for now, I can't trust either of you with this
information. But I suppose I will tell you this … the reason I've been looking
after her is because I knew her father."
My head reels at this information. "Her father?" I repeat.
"Yes," he says. "And he was a good man."
"Who was he?" I ask, but before I'm even done with my question, he's
already shaking his head.
"I've already said too much," he replies, turning away. "I'll leave the girl
and the man up to you. Leave the rest to me."
He begins to walk off, but that can't be it. I won't let it be. "If something
happens to her," I call out, causing him to pause halfway down the hallway,
"if anything happens to her," I continue, "I'll burn your empire to the ground,
old man." My chest pumps up and down with the proclamation. Every word
is a promise. "Make no mistake," I say, "she's the only thing that matters to
me."
And just because my father is who he is, he turns back and gives me a sad
