Tattoo

by Cambria Hebert

  Worry struck me. He’d been so busy insisting I get taken care of and then looking after me that no one bothered to take care of him. I felt like an ass.

  Worse than an ass. I felt like a turd circle.

  Nearby, there was a little kit one of the EMTs left out, and I grabbed it and stepped toward him. Of course, the ambulance chose that moment to stop abruptly. The guy driving laid on the horn, and I was sent flying sideways.

  Brody moved fast, reaching out to steady me, and then the ambulance started moving again, throwing us both into the seat.

  “These guys are complete idiots,” he muttered.

  I was half reclining across his chest, lying between his legs. He seemed to realize I was lying on him and he looked down. “What’cha doing over here?” he asked softly.

  “Someone needs to look at your side.” I breathed, proud that I actually remembered.

  His fingers brushed through the hair at the side of my head. “Here I thought maybe you just missed me.”

  “Maybe I did,” I admitted.

  He leaned down and I moved up, both of us meeting in the middle. Our mouths brushed together and Brody’s fingers tightened around the back of my head, holding me close so he could deepen the kiss.

  This time, instead of catching my bottom lip between his, he nibbled at my top lip, applying a little bit of pressure as he pulled it out and nipped at it. As much as I loved the heated, playful gesture, I wanted more. I wanted to feel his tongue against mine. I wanted to feel him move inside me.

  I pushed myself closer and his hand left the back of my head and wound around my waist, anchoring me against him as he dragged me upward so he would have better access to my lips.

  Anticipation curled my toes as we kissed again, this time full on the mouth, neither of us pulling back, just enjoying the constant rubbing together of our lips. If he kissed me any harder, I was sure sparks would ignite and we might start a fire. I grabbed his side, wanting him even closer, wanting his tongue, practically begging for it.

  He winced but didn’t pull away, kissing me through the pain.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, finally disconnecting our lips, glancing down at the place I grabbed. The place he was shot.

  I tried to push up off him so I could sit back and see if I did any damage, but he growled and pulled me back. “I’m not done kissing you yet,” he rumbled.

  I giggled and surrendered willingly. The feel of him against me was too much to fight. When our lips connected once more, his hips surged upward and I felt his hard length straining against his jeans. It pushed against me, and I gasped.

  He took the moment to sweep his tongue into my wide-open mouth, and I groaned. Oh my goodness, it felt like heaven. No, wait. It felt like sin. Delicious sin that would turn even an angel into an outlaw.

  His tongue was thick and wide, taking over the inside of my mouth and lapping at my own with force and command. It slid past my teeth and spun around, almost like it was inviting my tongue to dance.

  My body went slack in his arms, completely compliant to him and the spell he cast over me. I didn’t care if yielding made me weak… because I was. The driving force of his broad, insistent tongue turned me into nothing but a puddle of desire, and all I could think about was where else his tongue might travel.

  We were so far gone in the each other’s arms that neither of us noticed the ambulance come to a stop. In fact, I barely heard the backdoors being opened, and I didn’t blink at the way the night air rushed over my flushed skin.

  Brody grasped my face in his hands and pulled back, looking at me like we didn’t have an audience, like I was the only thing he saw.

  “You still taste damn good,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

  The IV line sticking out of my hand was tangled around him, and instead of pulling away quickly, knowing we’d been caught making out, he untangled himself with slow and deliberate ease, taking care not to cause me any extra pain.

  The EMTs were amused when we made our way to the back of the ambulance, and when one of them reached up to help me out, Brody brushed him aside and reached in, lifting me and the portable IV out, anchoring me at his side.

  “Lead the way,” he said to the men who could only stare.

  Finally, they moved off toward the emergency exit and Brody nudged me along behind them.

  As we were walking between the sliding doors and across the threshold into the chaotic ER, Brody leaned close, his breath fanning out over my ear and causing little ripples of longing to race across my skin.

  “I’d get shot all over again for another kiss like that.”

  I pressed my still-tingling lips together and smiled.

  So would I.

  13

  Brody

  As I knew, my wound wasn’t all that serious. The bullet grazed me on the way past, ripping the top layer of flesh and damaging some tissue on its way. It bled more than it should have, but that’s because right after it happened I threw us onto the stairs, ripping the skin farther, and then carried Taylor out of the building.

  Once it was cleaned and wrapped, the doctor told me I could go and tried to give me a prescription for pain pills. I left the script lying on the bed. I didn’t take drugs, even if they were only pain pills.

  There were times when I was undercover that I had to, and I knew how easily it was to jones for the next fix, to look for that high. I wasn’t an addict and I never planned on being one. If I needed drugs to get through the pain of this wound, then I was a damn pussy.

  I walked down the hall toward Taylor’s room. The nurse tried to tell me I wasn’t allowed to see her (‘cause I wasn’t family), but I ignored her and kept walking. If they wanted to keep me out of that room, they could call security.

  I smirked.

  Security wouldn’t be able to keep me out either.

  She must have realized because she didn’t even call after me as I walked away. Maybe she recognized the look of a determined man. Determined and exhausted. God, this had been a long fucking day.

  I knew I had to get to the station; a mountain of paperwork was waiting for me. But I couldn’t leave until I checked on Taylor. I had to make sure the treatment I gave her while we were in that basement didn’t do more harm than good.

  I didn’t knock when I arrived at her private room; I just pushed open the door and stepped inside. She was lying in a hospital bed, white blankets covering her past her waist. Her red hair was laid out across the pillow and her lashes were swept down against her pale cheeks. I never really noticed before how fine-boned she seemed, how fragile. But looking at her now made my stomach tighten into a hard knot as I thought about everything she went through earlier today.

  She was hooked up to several monitors and of course an IV, and I glanced down at her hand to make sure it was taped up securely.

  Her father was reclining in a nearby chair, his feet flat on the floor and his tie slightly askew. I wasn’t sure how old he was, but I would place him in his fifties. I wondered where her mother was… why she wasn’t keeping vigil beside her as well.

  I took a step closer and Mr. Shaw stirred, opening his eyes and staring directly at me. I looked back, not necessarily challenging him, but not willing to back down either. I had a feeling this guy was used to getting what he wanted and people running to do his bidding. I wasn’t one of those people and he needed to know that.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked.

  Wasn’t it obvious? “Checking on Taylor.”

  “Wasn’t there a guard at the door?”

  “Nope.” Although, I liked the idea of there being one.

  He frowned and sat up, looking at his watch. “He should have been here an hour ago.”

  “Might want to get someone more reliable. Taylor needs better protection than that.”

  He regarded me coolly. “I agree.”

  “Why don’t you go get some coffee, make a phone call, and fire the putz who didn’t show up?”

  “You trying to get
rid of me?” he asked.

  “I wasn’t aware I needed to.”

  We stared at each other once more, sizing each other up without saying a word.

  Taylor shifted in the bed and made a small sound. Since I was already on my feet, I made it to her side before her father (which I took a little too much pleasure in) and rested my hand on the edge of her bed.

  She looked up, her jade eyes focusing on me, and then she smiled. “Hey.”

  That smile had the ability to melt icecaps. It certainly took away the sting of the wound in my side. “Hey.”

  Her eyes ran over my face. “How are you? Why aren’t you lying down?”

  I chuckled. It was cute she thought I needed to lie down. A naughty comeback surfaced on the tip of my tongue about where I wanted to lie down, but I kept it in. I didn’t think her father would appreciate my impure thoughts.

  “They released me.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “They’re making me stay overnight.”

  From the foot of the bed, Mr. Shaw cleared his throat. “Do you need anything, honey? Should I get the nurse?”

  “I’m fine, Dad,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. “Have you been sleeping in the chair?”

  “Of course.”

  “You don’t have to stay. It’s so late. I know you must have a million things to do.”

  “Nothing as important as you.”

  Was it possible to be jealous of a parent? It seemed wrong to be mad about the way she smiled tenderly at him. Knowing that being jealous was stupid didn’t make me feel it any less.

  “Taylor, honey, do you mind if I just step out to get some coffee? Make a call?” he asked.

  “Of course not.”

  Mr. Shaw glanced at me.

  “Oh,” Taylor said, looking between us. “I didn’t introduce you. Dad, this is Brody West. He was the police officer who bandaged my wound and pretty much kept me alive.” She turned to me. “Brody, this is my dad, Edward Shaw.”

  “I know who he is,” Edward replied.

  “Dad,” she groaned. “Really?”

  He stepped around me to kiss the top of Taylor’s head and then turned to me. I could see the struggle in his eyes. He wanted to ask me, but at the same time he didn’t want to.

  “I’ll stay until you come back.” I offered, giving the man a break. His kid was in the hospital after all.

  He nodded once and exited the room quietly.

  I looked down to see her fingers spider-crawling across the crappy hospital blanket toward mine. She hesitated, but then a single finger stretched out toward where mine rested on the mattress. I met her halfway, slipping my fingers between hers.

  “Are you really okay?” she asked, staring at our joined hands.

  I caught the leg of the chair her father had been sitting in and dragged it closer, pulling it up right beside the bed to sit down. Before I lowered myself, I lifted up the torn and bloody shirt and showed her the fresh, clean bandage wrapped around my waist. “The bullet just grazed me.”

  She blew out a breath like she had been nervous.

  “How about you?” I asked, sitting down but keeping hold of her hand. I liked the way it felt in mine.

  “The doctors were really impressed with your stitch job. They didn’t even redo it. They re-bandaged it, gave me a couple more shots…” She paused to stick out her tongue. “And strapped me in this sling.”

  I glanced at the white sling holding her arm against her body. “They give you any good meds?”

  She giggled and I took that as a yes. “Where else are you hurt?” I asked, concerned. I hadn’t been gentle when I threw her onto those stairs when we were being shot at. I knew I probably hurt her, but I couldn’t be sorry.

  “Nothing major. A couple cuts and bruises.”

  “Like this one,” I said, pulling my hand away from hers and lightly touching the side of her cheek where Snake hit her at the bank.

  He was still at large. The police had an APB out for his arrest.

  “Nothing a little makeup won’t fix.” Taylor pulled my hand away from the bruise and threaded her fingers through mine once more. “You’re a good hand holder.”

  I grinned. “You think so?”

  She nodded. “You fold your fingers around mine, like really tangle us together. It’s like you want to touch me.”

  I did want to touch her. I wanted to touch more than just her hand. “Isn’t this the way everyone holds hands?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Every other guy I dated never intertwined our fingers. He always just kind of cupped my hand in his.” She made a face. “It was lame.”

  “Sounds like you’ve dated a lot of guys,” I said, irritation clouding my tone. I didn’t want to think of anyone else’s hands on her.

  “Not really. A few. My father runs most of them off.”

  Suddenly her father didn’t annoy me as much.

  She made a little sound. “I didn’t mean to imply that we’re dating,” her cheeks flamed a shade that matched her hair. “Obviously, we aren’t… I just meant—”

  “I know what you meant.” I grinned. I liked seeing her flustered.

  “Will you hand me that water?” she asked, pulling back her hand.

  I gave her the cup and watched her lips wrap around the striped straw. Once she had her fill, she lowered it and studied me. “Did they catch him?”

  I knew she was asking about Snake. “No. He disappeared. But they’re still looking.”

  Fear clouded her eyes.

  “You’re safe,” I told her, taking the cup and setting it aside. I didn’t want her to be afraid. “They’ll get him soon.”

  “So what now?” She leaned her head back against the pillow and looked at me.

  “You get some rest and I get to do paperwork.”

  “How long have you been a police officer?”

  “About six years.”

  “You’ve been in lots of dangerous situations before?”

  “A few.” I hedged. My entire career was pretty much one big dangerous situation, but whatever.

  “That tattoo,” she began. “The one on your back. It marks you as part of a gang?”

  “Yeah. It was part of my cover for the last case I worked on.”

  “Seems extreme to have to carry around a gang symbol for life for a temporary job.”

  I shrugged. “The job might have been temporary, but it’s part of me now. Besides, I earned that tattoo.”

  She nodded. I don’t think she knew what to say to that. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was proud of things I’d done to get this tattoo… Of course, I wasn’t ashamed either. I wasn’t like the men she was probably used to. I wasn’t black or white. I was the kind of guy who existed in the gray area of life… in between the bad and the good, kind of stuck being pulled in both directions.

  She yawned, revealing her little pink tongue, and my blood pressure started to rise. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” I told her gruffly, remembering the way it felt to invade her mouth with mine.

  “I’m glad you came by,” she said, her voice already drowsy.

  I didn’t respond, but I did prop my boots up on the side of the bed and make myself comfortable. The papers at the station could wait. Silence settled over the room and I closed my eyes, thinking longingly of the hat I lost in the basement. It was always good for shading my eyes when I wanted to catch a few Z’s. I didn’t really want to leave. I liked sitting here with her. It was comfortable… It felt right.

  Sleep wasn’t hard to find. In fact, it claimed me rather quickly. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy to keep. The earlier events made me a little twitchy. I’d learned to become a light sleeper because sleeping in a house full of drug addicts and criminals was never a good place to let down my guard. Add that to the fact I had been shot and threatened just hours before, and you could say I was extra… cautious.

  Okay, pissed off was more the term.

  The door to her room creaked open and the sound of light footfal
ls approaching the bed stirred me awake. I didn’t move a muscle, just stayed reclined in the chair, listening. It was almost like they were creeping into the room, toward us, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand tall.

  The person stepped around me, avoiding my chair. I felt rather than saw the person reach out toward the precarious tubing leading straight into Taylor’s hand. I reacted swiftly, snatching the hand out of midair, stopping them from taking hold of her tubing. The chair I was sitting in skidded back across the room and hit the wall when I jumped up out of it and pulled the intruder up against my body, pinning them with my arms.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I growled low.

  A small whimper escaped, and I blinked, fully taking in the situation. A woman dressed in blue scrubs was rigid and breathing heavily up against me.

  “Shit,” I muttered, releasing her gently. “I’m sorry,” I told the nurse. “I was asleep and you startled me.”

  “I tried not to wake you,” she said, looking at me warily and taking a step back.

  “Yeah.” I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Sorry, I’m a little jumpy today.”

  The nurse softened. “That’s understandable.”

  “Brody?” Taylor asked, looking between me and the nurse. Her eyes were wide and I wasn’t sure if she saw what happened or not.

  “Nurse just came in to check on you.”

  “I’m just going to check the fluid here and the IV,” she explained, looking at me and not Taylor.

  I nodded and she did her job quickly. After making sure Taylor was comfortable, she hurried toward the door.

  “Mr. Shaw,” she said cordially, slipping past Taylor’s dad who was standing in the doorway.

  I wondered how long he’d been there.

  “Everything okay?” Taylor asked him.

  He was carrying a white Styrofoam cup with steam coming from the top. “Absolutely,” he said, smiling down at her.

  “I gotta get to the station,” I said, wanting to get down there to see if they brought in Snake yet. Besides, if the nurse hadn’t been calling for security before, she probably was now.