“I don’t mind.” Cort smiled a little as Ford tried to be all tough and stand on his own. The boy he’d looked out for might be all grown-up, but the stubborn little shit was still in there. So Cort did no more than he would have ten years ago. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Ford sounded like speaking was a challenge, never mind standing. His jaw tensed as he leaned heavily on the bar. “Just give me a sec.”
“Men!” Laura gave Cort a dirty look then reached for Ford.
Hamilton held her back. “Cort’s got this. If Ford wants to be an idiot, let him.”
“You should have tried harder to get him to the hospital.”
“Probably. But not sure they can fix stupid.”
“Damn it, Hamilton!”
Cort snorted when Ford glanced at the cops, then back to him as though he was fucking confused. Which Cort completely understood. Pigs never came off as human, but Hamilton and Laura? Hell, if Ford or Cort had come across cops like them years ago, maybe they would have stayed on the straight and narrow.
Yeah, probably not.
“Cort . . .” Ford’s lips curled a little as he tried to push away from the bar. Disgusted with his own weakness, if Cort was reading him right. He finally sighed and held his arm out. “Not sure I can do this on my own.”
Easing Ford’s arm over his shoulder, Cort carefully gave Ford enough support to stand. He ignored Laura’s “Are-you-both-brain-dead?” stare and headed for the door, speaking quietly to Ford. “You probably should see a real doctor, kid.”
With a sidelong glance, Ford nodded. “Yep. But you’ll patch me up?”
“Only if you promise not to whine like a little bitch.”
“Do I ever?”
Cort snorted, instantly recalling a handful of times. Ford had puked the first time Cort had given him stitches. Of course, he’d had half a bottle of Jack first, so that may have had something to do with it. He decided not to rib Ford about it. “Naw, you always were a tough little shit.”
“Thanks.” Ford’s steps faltered as they walked across the mouth of the alley. Crimson droplets created a clear path through the snow. He shuddered, his grip on Cort’s shoulder tightening slightly. “They’re really okay?”
No need to ask who Ford meant. Cort nodded. Smiled broadly. “They really are. And I’m telling you now, Cam’s getting a fucking raise.” After helping Ford into the car, Cort stood there, just watching Ford settle in, feeling the cold air fully filling his lungs for the first time since he’d gotten here. The iron fist that had seized his insides loosened its grip. He slapped the roof of the car and let out a rough laugh. “Dominik might hate you for what happened to his brother. But I owe Cam for saving mine.”
* * * *
Akira threw open the door to the motel as Cort pulled up. Her big smile faded as he went around to the passenger’s side to help Ford out. Without a word, she ducked back inside and grabbed a blanket. Ford didn’t have his coat. And the way he was moving . . .
He’s hurt. Oh God, please let him be okay! But she wasn’t going to panic. This was something she’d have to get used to. She loved her men too much to walk away from them, no matter how much trouble they got in. So long as they came back to her in one piece, she should probably be grateful.
Snow melted through her socks as she ran out to put the blanket over Ford’s shoulders. She covered her mouth with her hand when he stumbled. Sutter’s presence at her side gave her something to lean on as Cort brought Ford inside. Sutter rubbed her arms as they followed, then left her in the doorway to go get something from the car he’d parked at the other end of the lot.
When Cort had left over an hour before—the bastard basically commanding her to stay here with his father and a few bikers keeping an eye on her—she’d paced the room for about ten minutes talking to Jami on the phone so she could at least find out what had happened. Jami had gone back to Silver’s place to stay with the baby so the nanny could go home to her own kids. Silver was with Oriana who refused to leave Max. Half the team was at the hospital.
And Akira had been stuck here. The one time she’d peeked out the window had gotten Sutter banging at her door and wordlessly pointing to the other side of the room when she opened it. Then calmly telling her to put the bolt lock on. Damn it, she had liked the man until he’d gone into watchdog mode. She’d have liked him more if he’d given her the gun he’d offered her the other day and maybe sat and talked to her for a bit.
Instead, he followed Cort’s instructions to the letter. The bikers weren’t allowed near her. She wasn’t to touch any weapons. Cort’s rapid-fire orders came back to her as she watched him settle Ford on the bed on top of the towels Sutter spread out. As he carefully peeled off Ford’s shirt and took the medical kit Sutter handed him.
“We need you safe, Tiny. I can’t help Ford if I don’t know you’re safe.” Cort ran his knuckles down her cheek. “And you know Ford. He’ll go nuts if he thinks I’m putting you in danger.”
“But I’m fine being guarded by criminals?”
“Don’t you trust my father?”
She could’ve slapped him for asking her that. “Of course I do, but I should be going with you!”
Cort’s eyes had darkened and his whole demeanor became so unyielding he was more than a little scary. She moved to take a step back, but he put his hand on the nape of her neck and spoke very, very softly. “Do you have any idea how close we came to losing Ford? I’m not giving Kingsley a chance to get to you. Ever. You are going to stay here and do exactly what my father tells you to.”
And she’d done exactly that. Hated every second, but had gotten around to admitting that this was her life now.
There was part of her that couldn’t come to terms with it. That wasn’t sure she could keep her relationship with Ford and Cort hidden. That didn’t want to worry if one or both of the men would leave one day “for her own good.” Only, this wasn’t the time to bring that up. She ground her teeth as Sutter roughly repositioned Ford on the bed and Ford’s face lost all color. Sutter held Ford down as Cort opened what looked like a small bottle of clear spirits.
Enough is enough. She squared her shoulders and stepped up to Sutter. “Get out.”
“What?” Sutter blinked at her, then looked over at Cort. “Son, she really shouldn’t be watchin’—”
Akira held up her hand before Cort could say a word. “I’m helping you take care of him. Deal with it.” She frowned at Sutter. “Mr. Nash, I almost like you, but you’ve made it clear how you feel about Ford. Go make sure no one comes in here to finish—” She cut herself off as Cort peeled off the bloody bandage. There was fresh blood oozing out of the sliced flesh on Ford’s side. Her stomach rolled and her eyes teared, but she dug her nails into her palms to keep her tone steady. “Make sure they don’t come to finish the job.”
Sutter nodded and gave her a bracing smile. “Will do, cutie. And if it helps, Ford’s had worse.”
That didn’t help. Not at all. But she just nodded at Sutter and waited for him to leave before turning to Cort. “Tell me what I need to do.”
For a second, it looked like Cort was going to argue with her, but instead, he held out the bottle. “You’re not strong enough to hold him down—”
Shifting to a half-sitting position that made the wound ooze even more blood, Ford winced and put his hand on Cort’s wrist. “I don’t need to be held down. Don’t let her do this.”
“No one’s ‘letting’ me do anything. It’s not an option. Now lie down.” She pried Ford’s hand off Cort’s wrist, easing him down as she turned to Cort. “Was the hospital not safe?”
Cort shrugged. “Hard to tell. Either way, he refused to go.”
“Like Sutter said, I’ve had worse.” Ford brought a hand to her cheek, his crooked smile tight with pain. “Cort’s good at this, shorty. Why don’t you go take a nice hot bath, put some music on your phone, and—”
“Shut up.” Akira glared at Ford, itching to shake him for being such an idiot. Such a da
mn lovable idiot that she’d almost lost tonight. “Either we bring you to the hospital, or I’m going to be right here putting you back together with Cort.”
“But you’ll want to come to the hospital?”
“I will come to the hospital.”
“Kingsley wants me dead—in a way that sends a message to the people who work for him, not quick and easy. He’d have offered good money. There’s no way to tell who else might come after me.” Ford took a deep breath and dropped his head back on the pillow. “This is a mistake.”
“Well, you’ve both made plenty. Maybe it’s my turn.” Akira tried not to look at the wound as Cort sat on the bed, holding Ford’s wrists with one hand and placing the other on Ford’s shoulder to keep him in place. The scent of blood had her breathing fast through her mouth. The pain Ford tried to hide made her want to cry. She glanced up at Cort. “This will hurt him, won’t it?”
“Yes. Let him take a swig of the vodka first. It’ll help.”
Her palm was slick with sweat. She almost dropped the bottle as she moved to offer it to Ford. She laughed nervously and twisted the top off, taking a few burning gulps before bringing the bottle to Ford’s lips.
Ford was shaking hard against her side. He pressed his eyes shut as he swallowed. Opened them when she took the bottle from his lips. His eyes were tender as they met hers. “Akira, I’m so sorry. I never wanted this for you.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She leaned down to kiss him, answering her own question. She hadn’t been sure if she could keep going like this. Pretending to be with Dominik so no one would know who she really belonged to. But in the end, did it matter what everyone else believed? She knew the truth. It was her truth, and Ford’s, and Cort’s.
The rest of the world didn’t matter. The three of them had stolen this moment together. They’d steal many more. And maybe, one day, things would change.
She’d still be here, with them, one way or another.
“Are you ready, Ford?” Cort’s brow furrowed when Ford closed his eyes again, almost as though he wasn’t so sure about what they were doing. But he finally inclined his head to Akira. “Pour it over the cut.”
Tipping the bottle, Akira made sure to pour the vodka over the length of the narrow wound. Her stomach heaved as diluted blood spilled down Ford’s side. Ford tried to wrench away, but Cort leaned almost full on him, seeming to read Ford’s desperate look, quickly covering Ford’s mouth with his hand to smother his agony-filled scream. The sound that escaped tore right into Akira’s heart.
She sobbed and pressed wet kisses on Ford’s cheeks. “I didn’t want to hurt you! Shit! Tell me how to make it stop!” Without realizing it, she’d grabbed Cort’s wrist and had her nails digging into his flesh. “Make it stop!”
“It’ll pass in a bit, Tiny. Let him have a bit more to drink.” He winked at her, even though by the gray cast to his skin, he wasn’t enjoying this any more than she was. “Why do you think we use vodka instead of medical stuff?”
“Because you’re insane?” But Akira quickly gave Ford a few sips when Cort moved his hand. The last swallow had Ford relaxing a bit, though he was covered in sweat and trembling. Akira let out a shallow laugh. “Is this how you guys deal with getting cut up and shot all the time?”
Cort didn’t look like he wanted to answer. Ford, however, groaned and chuckled. “Pretty much. Sutter dug a bullet out of Cort’s arm once, and you should have heard the way Cort yelled when his brother poured whiskey over the hole.”
“Shut up, Ford.” Cort growled, moving away from Ford and wrapping one arm around Akira’s shoulders as she swayed. “Tiny, this is the last time, I promise—”
“You can’t promise me that, Cort.” She blinked fast as the room tilted and spun around her. She tipped the bottle to her lips, her whole body suddenly numb.
“I want to.”
“But you can’t.” She peeked at Ford’s wound. Planted her hands on the mattress to keep from falling off the bed. “Do you have to sew him up now?”
Eyes narrowed, Cort studied the cut, then shook his head. “No, it’s not that deep. The butterfly bandages will work just fine. Do you trust me, Tiny?”
She did, but the way Cort asked meant more than she could say. He already knew Ford trusted him—they’d been through this before. Cort was making sure she had faith in him to take care of the man they both loved—well, in different ways, but still. This had all started without her having a say, but she had a feeling that if she insisted on Ford going to the hospital, neither man would question her. She knew the risks.
And the risks, and her very real trust in Cort, were what had her nodding and holding Ford’s hand as Cort laid out a sterile blue cloth and took out the butterfly bandages. Despite the primitive usage of vodka, Cort put on sterile gloves to deal with the bandages. The practiced ease with which Cort placed the tiny bow-shaped strips made her feel a lot better. Actually, it didn’t look that bad once it was all held together and neatly bandaged. Cort dealt with all the scrapes on Ford’s arms and face pretty quick and even put some yellow stuff on the bruises.
Ford seemed to be okay. He fell asleep after Cort let him finish off the vodka, still holding Akira’s hand. But she was afraid to move. Didn’t want to wake him up.
“Lie down next to him. He’ll sleep better knowing you’re there.” Cort smoothed her hair away from her face after removing the gloves. His expression held confidence, but slipped a little when she held his gaze. “I wouldn’t have given him a choice about going to the hospital if—”
“I know.” Akira pressed a finger to Cort’s lips, chewing on her own as she thought about how much she hated that this was the norm for her men. She would deal, but she wanted better for them. Only, there was no way she could make that happen. Kingsley was too powerful. With a word, he could take everything from them. Cort’s DIY medical treatment of Ford wasn’t all that bad when she considered the alternative. Then again, if he’d pulled out duct tape at any point, she’d have put her foot down. “I’m not sure I’ll sleep much tonight. I’m gonna be paranoid about him getting an infection or . . . I don’t know, just something going wrong. I’d feel better if Oriana could come check on him, but she’s with Max, right?”
“She’d come if we asked her to. She loves Ford.”
“But Max got shot.” The impact of saying that out loud had her shaking hard. She’d been a fan of Max’s for a long time and now considered him a friend. Actually, more of a big brother. If anything happened to him—
Cort put his hand over the one she had clasped with Ford’s. “Laura told me about that. The bullet went straight through—didn’t do any major damage. Missed his heart completely.”
Ford grunted. He clearly wasn’t really sleeping. His brow furrowed. “Cort, you’re gonna scare her.”
“Why? From what I heard, Max didn’t even know he’d been hit right away. He helped take down one of the guys.”
But he could have been killed instantly. Akira scrubbed away fresh tears with the heel of her palm. She had to toughen up. Being with Ford and Cort meant this kinda thing would happen a lot. If Sutter needed Cort, how could Cort say no? And as long as Kingsley was alive, Ford would always be in danger.
Moving to Africa would be a good alternative. Or maybe Alaska. Bulky parkas would definitely slow bullets. She planted a brave smile on her lips at Cort’s questioning look. “What would you think of getting a place together soon?”
“After we get married? Do you still want to get married?”
Ford snorted without opening his eyes. “Why don’t you ask her where she wants to move?”
Damn the man. He knew her too well. She wrinkled her nose. “Alaska?”
Cort frowned. “Really? But what about the Ice Girls? The team? All your friends?”
There was no good answer to that. She had to make a choice. One that would break her heart one way or another.
Apparently, Ford disagreed. He sounded drunk, but Akira really wanted to believe what he said nex
t. “We’re not going anywhere. I’m not supposed to kill Kingsley, but maybe someone will in jail. If he goes to jail.”
“What are you talking about?” Cort voiced Akira’s thoughts. What Ford was saying meant hope, but why wouldn’t he have said something sooner? Why was he still talking like Kingsley was a threat?
Ford shrugged, winced, and groaned. “Don’t buy it. Kingsley will find a way out of this. His assistant will spill, but then someone will kill him, and there will be no one to testify but me.”
“Does Hamilton know about this?” Cort asked, sitting up. He hissed out a curse when Ford didn’t reply. “Damn it, Ford! Answer me!”
“Hamilton is happy. He thinks it’s over.” Ford dropped an arm over his face. His breathing slowed. “It’s not over. It will never be over.”
Akira swallowed hard. The pain and the alcohol had left Ford an incoherent mess. But as she met Cort’s eyes, she saw her own hope reflected in the ruddy green depths. It wasn’t over yet. They still had to be careful.
One day though, one day soon this might all be nothing but a nightmare they could all wake up from. And forget.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Dad! Come here! Oh, God, this is amazing!”
Dean cradled Amia against his shoulder, careful not to jostle her even as he hurried from her nursery down to the living room. Jami sounded like she was practically in tears. Only her words kept him from panicking. “Amazing” couldn’t mean more bad news.
Perched at the edge of the sofa, one hand covering her mouth, the other held tight by Luke who sat beside her, Jami stared at the TV. Sebastian nodded a greeting to Dean before returning his attention to the news.
Soft fussing from Amia shifted Dean’s focus, and he bent down to grab her little stuffed gray bunny from the coffee table, his gaze only half on the scene playing out on the large screen. Police officers and men in suits. Questions being shouted from the crowd as the officers cleared a path. Flanked on both sides, hands in cuffs, an irritated expression on his face, was a man Dean instantly recognized. The man who’d had his brother killed.
Delayed Penalty (The Dartmouth Cobras #5) Page 51
