by Sykes, Julia
But I found myself frowning at him as the thought made me profoundly sad. He frowned right back and then shrugged, his gaze roving elsewhere. Yep. He was definitely a callous bastard.
I noticed Penny had already moved in on a target, and I hastily continued my search. My eyes were drawn to a guy who couldn’t have looked more different than the tattooed asshole. He was wearing a well-fitted suit, and his demeanor gave off the impression that he was a man who was used to success. His blond hair was a few shades lighter than Clayton’s, but he had blue eyes.
A part of me recognized that I was totally fucked up; it was a terrible idea to sleep with a man who reminded me of Clayton. But a yearning rose up within me, and I knew this guy was my best shot at finding some modicum of pleasure in a man’s arms tonight. His eyes met mine, and I gave him a slow, sly smile before taking a sip of my drink. As I did so, I allowed myself to think of sexual pleasures so he could see the lust in my eyes.
Unfortunately, images of Clayton dominating my body flooded my mind. I gulped down the rest of my martini in order to mask my anguished expression. My tactic must have worked, because the guy grinned at me and slipped off his barstool so that he could join me where I was leaning casually on the bar.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he said as he sidled in next to me. “What’s your name?”
“Sarah,” I lied. Rose wouldn’t be sleeping with this man; Sarah would. Somehow, that would help me get through this.
He smiled at me warmly and extended his hand so I could shake it. “I’m John,” he introduced himself. But instead of shaking my hand, he gripped it gently and raised it to his lips, kissing it softly.
Shit. Another white knight.
I took a deep breath. This is good. You like this now. Just go with it.
“Can I buy you a drink, Sarah?” He asked, noticing my now-empty martini glass.
“Sure,” I forced myself to smile at him. “I’ll have a Long Island Iced Tea, please.”
I would like to get completely fucked up, please. Getting drunk always lowered my inhibitions and made me horny. I needed that desperately.
As John handed me my drink, I glanced over to see that Penny’s man was just ordering one for her. I had beaten her by less than a minute. She grinned at me a touch regretfully before raising her glass to toast me in congratulations, conceding her defeat. But the victory felt hollow, and I didn’t feel any sense of triumph. Somehow, I managed a smirk and toasted her back.
“Friend of yours?” John asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “We just had a little bet going. I won.”
“Oh? And what was the bet?”
I touched his arm lightly, the slight contact full of promises that I wasn’t at all sure I could keep. “That I could snare a hotter guy than she could,” I lied to stroke his ego.
His brows rose in flattered surprise. “Well, she can join us if she wants,” he said, his smile a lustful invitation.
“I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” I purred. “But unfortunately I don’t think she would be comfortable with it.” That last part was true, and my first statement was half-true. I was interested in involving another woman in my sexual play, but I would never be comfortable introducing my vanilla friend into the mix. That would be too weird.
The interest in John’s eyes didn’t waver. “I’m cool with that, baby. I’m sure you’ll be hard enough to handle that you’ll need my full attention.”
The indication that he might be a little controlling in the bedroom should arouse me, but I just felt cold. It bothered me that he assumed sleeping with me was a foregone conclusion. Did I scream slut that loudly?
Yes. Yes I did. And it wasn’t fair for me to resent John for making the assumption. I had come onto him strong, after all, and within a few minutes I had basically promised him I was a sure thing.
God, I hated myself. I felt dirty and desperate and worthless.
I took long draws of my Long Island Iced Tea through my straw, drinking almost half of it without pausing for breath. The buzz of the ridiculous amount of alcohol went to my head almost instantly.
“Damn, baby, you in a hurry or something?” John asked. “Because I don’t mind that.”
Well I did mind. My behavior sickened me. I had always been able to shove down my discomfiture at my reckless actions. But Clayton had made me acutely aware of the fact that I was destroying my own sense of self-worth.
God, why couldn’t I stop thinking of him? I had come here to escape the pain of losing him, but it was futile. He had ruined me.
I felt stupid, drunken tears sting at the corners of my eyes. John’s cocky expression instantly shifted to one of concern, and he took my hand in his.
“Hey, baby, what’s wrong? Was it something I said? I didn’t mean to insult you.”
It was his kindness that broke me. I let out a sob, and the tears spilled freely down my face.
John looked alarmed and utterly bewildered at my total 180°.
“I’m- sorry,” I gasped out as I fought to heave in air between the sobs that now wracked through my chest. “You didn’t do- anything. It’s- me.” I turned from him quickly, jerking my hand out of his. I hated that I had allowed him to touch me even in that innocent way.
I fled from the bar, oblivious to the stares I was attracting with my erratic behavior.
“Rose!” Penny called after me as I crossed the threshold and stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Rose, wait!”
I spun to face her. “Please, Penny,” I begged. “Don’t ask me about it. I can’t… I won’t talk about it. I just want to go home.”
But I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to go to Clayton. I wanted him to hold me and comfort me; I wanted him to take care of me. He made me feel cherished, like I was someone better than who I really was. And even if I knew deep down that he wasn’t really seeing me when he looked at me like that, I almost didn’t care.
“Hey, Rose.” I blinked hard to clear away the tears that blurred my vision, and I saw that Sharon had arrived out of nowhere. “Why don’t you let me take you home?” She asked gently.
Penny folded her arms across her chest distrustfully. “Who the hell are you?” She asked. She sounded a little rude, but I knew she was just being protective of me.
“This is Sharon,” I said, my voice ragged from crying. “She’s a friend of mine.”
I wasn’t quite sure if that was true; I didn’t really know the FBI agent, and I still resented her slightly for arresting Greg. But she had been kind to me, and I knew she wouldn’t let me come to any harm. I also knew it was safer to let her escort me back to my apartment so that I didn’t give in to the foolish temptation to go running to Clayton.
“Come on,” Sharon urged. “I have my car here, so it’ll save you the cab fare.”
“Okay,” I breathed. “I’ll see you later, Penn. Thanks for trying to cheer me up. I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”
My friend’s arms closed around me, and she hugged me to her tightly. “Anytime, Rose. I’m here for you. You can talk to me. Call me if you need me, day or night.”
Her words brought on a new flood of tears. She was a better friend than I had ever given her credit for. “Thanks, Penn,” I whispered. “I will.”
Sharon didn’t press me to talk about my problems as she drove me back to my apartment, and I was thankful for that. Greg was home, but he was unmoving on his bed. I wasn’t sure if he was high out of his mind or just sleeping. I was grateful he didn’t wake up when I came in. If he wasn’t high and I disturbed him, he might go off on me. He had such a short fuse now during his brief periods of sobriety. He was using more often than ever now that he knew he was going to be forced to quit. All I could do was hope this mess would soon be over and I could finally get him the help he needed.
I buried my face in my pillow to muffle the sound of my sobs. It was soaked with my tears when I finally fell into sleep, utterly exhausted from my emotional turmoil.
“Baker! Where are you, you little shit? You think
you can just take our drugs and then skip out on your part of the deal?” The man’s shout as he pounded on the door jerked me out of my fitful slumber. I ran to the door to see who was there; Greg stayed frozen on his bed, his eyes wide. He looked too terrified to move.
My stomach clenched in fear when I looked through the peephole. Two Latino guys were standing in the hallway. They were big and heavily muscled. And they looked pissed. If they got in, they would tear my brother apart.
I dashed to my bed and grabbed my gun from underneath it and my cellphone from my bedside table. I went back to the door and trained the gun on the men through the wood, steeling myself to use it if I had to. With my free hand, I dialed Clayton’s number, knowing I could get help from him more quickly than I could if I dialed 911.
“Go away!” I yelled, my voice high and thin. “I’m calling the cops.”
“Puta!” One of them cursed before he kicked in our flimsy door. As it banged open, it smacked into my forehead, sending me reeling backwards. The impact made my head spin, but I forced myself to stay on my feet. My cell phone had slipped from my fingers, but I determinedly kept my grip on my gun. I cocked it and pointed it directly at the two men who had come for Greg.
“Get out of here,” I demanded, trying to keep my hand from trembling. “Leave my brother alone.” I could feel something warm and wet trickling down the side of my face.
The men paused, looking wary as they stared down the barrel of the gun. But they didn’t leave.
“Look, guys, I’m sorry,” Greg choked out. “I just made a mistake. I got too fucked up last night. I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’ll sell double tonight.”
“I know you will,” one of them said menacingly. “We’re going to make sure you’re motivated.”
He started to advance on Greg. But I wasn’t about to let him lay a hand on my baby brother. Grasping the gun in both hands to steady it, I aimed at the floor and fired a warning shot right in front of the guy’s feet. He cursed and jumped back, glaring at me.
“Get out!” I shrieked.
“Crazy bitch!” He stood his ground for a moment, and I cocked the gun again.
“I won’t tell you again,” I threatened.
He glowered at me and spat on the floor. But mercifully he decided it wasn’t worth risking it, and the two men backed slowly out of our apartment before running for the stairs.
As soon as I was sure they were gone, I sat down hard on my bed, shaking madly and pressing my palms against my aching head to help alleviate the throbbing where the door had hit me. It didn’t help much.
“Rose!” Sharon’s voice was alarmed as her footsteps quickly approached me. She gently grasped my hands and pulled them away from my face. “Shit,” she cursed under her breath. “Clayton is going to murder me.” She raised her voice, addressing me again. “Don’t move, Rose. I’m calling the paramedics.”
Concern shot through me. “Why? Is Greg okay?” I knew the Kings hadn’t attacked him, but the sharp pounding in my head was making me fuzzy.
Sharon eyed me carefully as she dialed. “You’re bleeding, Rose,” she informed me. “It doesn’t look bad, but you might have a concussion.”
I looked down at my hands as she ordered an ambulance to come to my apartment. They were smeared with something crimson. God, my head hurt. I closed my eyes and lay back on my bed, trying to shut out the pain.
Sharon shook me insistently. “Open your eyes, Rose,” she commanded. “Don’t pass out on me.”
The hint of fear in her voice made me do as she said, but the way the room spun around me made me feel sick.
“Rose!” I recognized his voice instantly, and I blinked hard to sharpen my vision so I could look at him. It was the first time I had laid eyes on Clayton in over a week, and I drank in the sight hungrily. He knelt beside my bed and took my hand in his before lightly brushing his fingers over my forehead to check my injury. The slight pain it elicited should have made me wince, but I was so thrilled to feel his skin brush against mine that I barely registered it.
He turned a terrifying glare on Sharon. “What happened?”
“A couple of the Kings got in here. I heard a gunshot and came running, but by the time I got here, they were already gone.”
“That was me,” I admitted. “But I just shot the floor to scare them off.”
Clayton continued to scowl at his partner. “Well it’s a good thing Rose is more competent than the goddamn FBI. How the hell did you let this happen, Silverman?”
Her brows drew together, and her eyes narrowed. “Look, Vaughn,” she said hotly as she came to her own defense. “We don’t have records of those guys in our files. I can’t just go stopping every Latino male who enters this building. That’s called racial profiling. I’m sorry Rose got hurt, and I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. You can file a report against me at the office if you want to, and I’ll understand. But don’t you dare talk down to me like that.”
Their raised voices were making my head hurt, and I closed my eyes again.
Clayton cursed softly. “Keep your eyes open, Rose,” he ordered.
I obeyed, focusing on his perfect face to help keep my vision from blurring. I never wanted to lose sight of him again.
Chapter 13
It didn’t take long for the paramedics to patch me up. I didn’t have to go to the hospital, and I didn’t have a concussion. They closed up the cut on my forehead with some glue and said I wouldn’t even have a scar. Head wounds bled a lot and usually looked scarier than they actually were. After giving me some extra-strength Advil to help with the pain, they left my apartment.
Sharon had gone back to the office a while ago. Clayton hadn’t chewed her out any more since she had told him off, but he still looked furious. I didn’t blame her for wanting to get away from him when he was seething with that kind of anger. I was just grateful it wasn’t turned on me. Clayton hadn’t left my side since he had arrived, and he held my hand through the whole thing, tracing little circles over my palm with the pad of his thumb. It was incredibly soothing. A truly sick part of me was almost glad that the Kings had hurt me. It had brought Clayton back to me, and he was taking care of me again. A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders as I leaned into him, relieved that someone else was taking responsibility for me so I didn’t have to be responsible for myself. I needed Clayton to guide me, to center me. And I needed him to be hard on me when I was tempted to do something reckless. I trusted him completely.
“I’m so sorry, Rose.” It was the first time Greg had spoken. I had almost forgotten he was there. When I looked at him, my heart twisted to see that it was my sweet brother who was looking at me with agonized concern.
“‘Sorry’ just isn’t going to cut it, Greg,” Clayton said harshly. “Rose might have coddled you for years, but you’re not a child anymore. It’s time you started acting like a man and took responsibility for your actions. Those men might have killed your sister. And after she’s spent her entire life trying to protect you, you did nothing to help defend her when they broke in here.” Clayton’s mouth was twisted in disgust. “This is your fault. Rose has put up with your behavior because she didn’t want to lose you if she challenged you. Do you even care about the fact that you could have lost her today?”
“Of course I care!” Greg cried out, sounding alarmed. All the blood had drained from his face, and his usually-tanned skin looked almost as pale as mine.
“She has proven she would give her life to keep you safe, and what have you ever given her? Nothing but heartache and a shit-ton of problems that she doesn’t deserve. You just take and take, and now you’ve gotten greedy enough that you would let the Kings take her life just so you could get your next fix.”
Greg’s mouth was hanging open in shock; no one had ever talked to him like this before. Certainly not me. Tears of shame glistened on his cheeks. They made my heart twist, but I knew he needed to hear this. I didn’t think I would ever have been capable of delivering these hard truths to my bro
ther, and I was thankful Clayton was doing it for me.
Greg tore his eyes from Clayton’s so that I was caught up in his pained gaze. “Rosie, I… I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “No. He’s right: that’s not enough. Nothing I can say will ever be enough.” His anguished expression nearly broke my heart. “I don’t know when I became this person, Rose. But I don’t want to be him anymore. I won’t lose you. I’m going to get clean, and I’m going to be there for you from now on.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, I leapt to my feet so that I could go to my brother. The movement made my head pound, and Clayton steadied me when I swayed. I gently extricated myself from his hold so I could get to Greg. He met me halfway, and I wanted to cry with joy when he wrapped his arms around me.
“I love you so much, Rosie,” he whispered fervently. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
I clutched him to me more tightly. “I love you too, Greg. More than anything. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, either. You’re not going to do this anymore, Greg. It’s too dangerous for you to keep spying on them. You’re going to go to rehab. Today.” I turned my face to look at Clayton questioningly. “The FBI will let him out of this deal now, right? It’s obvious that the Kings are going to hurt him. You swore to me that you wouldn’t let them hurt him.”
Clayton suddenly looked weary, but he nodded. “No. He doesn’t have to do it anymore. The last thing we want is for more people to be hurt by the Kings. That’s what we’re trying to put a stop to.”
Greg pulled away from me. Holding me at arm’s length, he addressed me solemnly. “No. I’m not going to back out. I need to do this. I need to make things right.”
Panic speared through me. “Don’t be stupid, Greg!” My voice was colored with alarm. “They could kill you!”
“If we don’t bring them down, they might kill you. Those men who came here today…” He swallowed hard. “They know you now. And they won’t forget what you did.” He turned his gaze on Clayton. “That’s true, isn’t it? She won’t be safe until they all get taken out, will she?”
