Seth (Damage Control #3)

by Jo Raven

  At first I can’t see him anywhere, and I start to panic.

  “He’s not here,” I whisper, wrapping myself more tightly in my coat. “Shit, Shane, he’s not—”

  “He’s here.” Shane strides ahead, pushing back the hood of his jacket, and crouches beside what I’d taken to be a pile of old rags. “Seth!”

  I don’t know when I start running, but suddenly we’re all kneeling in the rain, around Seth.

  Seth, oh God. He doesn’t react at first when Shane shakes him, his head rolling back. He’s wrapped up in a quilt, and despite the fact he’s holed up under a fire escape, he’s soaked through.

  “Something’s wrong,” Shane says.

  He’s right. Something’s off. Seth’s cheeks are flushed, warm to the touch, where I expected them to be ice-cold.

  Fever? I put my hand on his shoulder, and he cries out, a strangled sound. His eyes glitter as they open.

  “Jesus.” I help Shane to sit him up, careful not to touch his shoulder again. Through his soaked jacket, it looks odd, lower than the other one. “Is his shoulder dislocated?”

  Shane curses. “When I punched him, he fell. He seemed to be in pain, but I never thought… Fuck.”

  And he’s feverish. No idea if it’s connected or not, but I don’t like it.

  Don’t like it one bit. The fact he’s out here alone, that he thought he couldn’t turn to any of us for help. To me. That he’s hurt and sick and that we only found out he was out here by chance.

  What if I hadn’t met with Zane and Rafe? What if we hadn’t seen his stuff in the dumpster and gone to talk to the landlord?

  “I’ll get your car, park it closer, so we can get him to the ER.” Zane gets to his feet. “Throw me your car keys.”

  I’m grateful he doesn’t ask me to leave Seth for this. I throw him the keys, he catches them, then he and Rafe walk away.

  I lean closer. “Seth?”

  “My shoulder,” he whispers. Pain cuts white lines around his beautiful mouth. His teeth are chattering.

  Shane’s face is a mask of regret. “Sorry, man. Didn’t realize what happened.” He gets up, lifts his hands. “Just… sorry.”

  Seth blinks dazedly after him. Tries to move, but hisses and flinches instead, clutching his arm over his stomach.

  “I’ve got you.” I help him settle his arm in his lap, swallow hard. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll take care of you.”

  His eyes lift, settling on me, heavy-lidded. Dark like outer space. “Manon?”

  “I’m here.”

  I watch his gaze slowly brighten. A faint smile curves his lips. “You’re here.”

  “Yeah.” Lifting my hand to his face, I cup his jaw. “That’s right. So glad I found you.”

  His breath shudders.

  “And you should hurry up,” I tell him, swallowing back tears, “to get well so you can teach me some more things, okay?”

  “For Fred?”

  I shake my head, my heart slamming against my ribs. “No more Fred. I’m done with him. For you. Just you.”

  How was I so blind before?

  “Not good for you,” he whispers. His throat works. “I’m an ex-con connected to drugs.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t believe you did any of that.” I run my thumb over his cheekbone. “In fact, I think I love you, Seth Tucker.”

  He stares at me, those dark eyes open wide. He reaches up, puts his bigger hand over mine. “You’re joking. This is a dream.”

  “No, it’s not, Seth. You’re the one I want.”

  His smile comes back full force. “That’s good,” he whispers, his eyes closing. “Because I’ve loved you from the start.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Seth

  The journey to the ER takes place in a kind of weird haze. My head feels a size too big for my neck, and even the pain doesn’t seem to clear it. Plus, every movement, every bump in the road jostles my shoulder, and my jaw’s clenched so hard it creaks.

  But Manon is there, beside me, her hand on top of mine, and nothing else matters. Even if I have no place to go, if Zane and Rafe want me far from Damage Control, if I don’t have a penny to my name.

  “I think I love you.”

  Did she mean it? Could she change her mind? Will she stay?

  She said it’s not a dream, but what if it is? What if I wake up, curled up in that alley, alone? What if I dreamed her up?

  I dreamed a lot wrapped up in my quilt—of Manon walking away, of Shane’s anger, of my mom’s betrayal. Nightmare after nightmare, sinking claws into my mind, tearing my thoughts apart.

  And now I’m back at the hospital. Joy. I let the guys manhandle me into a wheelchair, roll me inside. Let the doctors poke me and prod me, ask me questions.

  Zane, Rafe and Shane stay outside the examination room. Shane won’t look me in the eye. He feels guilty for punching me, dislocating my shoulder. I’ll need to talk to him later. Tell him I understand. That he was right: I’m the one who got him in this mess in the first place. I deserved that punch, and his anger.

  Need to talk to Zane and Rafe, too. Ask them to take Shane back in. Explain he was collateral damage. Nothing that happened three years ago was his fault – and he needs a family, much more than I ever have.

  Hell. I press my fist to my aching chest as the doctor says something about broken ligaments and possible surgery. The pressure is back.

  “Depending on what?” I ask.

  “The x-rays. The fever is sometimes a side effect of a broken bone. Let’s wait and see the results. Come with me, Mr. Tucker.”

  I look over my shoulder at Manon, fully expecting her to leave, or simply go up in smoke and vanish.

  She doesn’t. She smiles at me, and comes to stand by the bed.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she says, as if reading my mind.

  Makes me wonder about the expression on my face. Makes me wonder about lots of things, but as we walk out of the room together, I don’t fucking care. I’ll hold on to this dream for as long as it lasts.

  ***

  Clavicle fracture. Broken ligaments. Dislocation.

  The good news is that I won’t need surgery. I may need one in the future if this happens again, but if I’m careful, I may avoid it. Antibiotics, painkillers and a shoulder immobilizer, that’s what I’ll need for now.

  The bad news is… The shoulder needs to be set.

  Shit.

  I know the drill. Sit still as the doc injects the sedative, barely flinch when he takes my arm and pulls hard.

  Fucking ow. Hurts in spite of the sedative, probably because this time I have a fracture to go with it, but the pain lessens almost immediately as the joint settles in its natural position.

  Manon’s face grays a little, though, and she takes a step back. From the corner of my eye, I see Shane and I nod at him. He approaches, takes Manon’s elbow, tugging her away.

  She shakes her head, pulls her arm free and comes to sit beside me on the bed. She laces her hand with mine. I look down at our intertwined fingers, vaguely aware of the doc talking, checking my shoulder.

  “You said Fred and you broke up?” Need to be sure I didn’t imagine this.

  “That’s right.” She squeezes my fingers. “Fred and I decided to be friends. Truth is, what I feel for him is more sisterly love than anything else. I can’t even think about kissing him or touching him.” She lifts my hands, kiss my knuckles. “Not like I kiss and touch you.”

  My mouth goes dry. I want to kiss her. Dying to kiss her. “So you’re not with Fred. Or anyone else?”

  She huffs a breath of laughter. “Well, to be honest, I am with someone.”

  “Fuck.” My stomach plunges. “Who?”

  “You may know him. Tall, handsome, kind. Strong and sexy. A little banged up and down on his luck, but I sense things are about to change.”

  I blink at her, unable to speak.

  “I’ve been his for a while, without realizing,” she goes on, her long lashes sweeping low over
her eyes, hiding them. “But I don’t know if he wants me with him for real.”

  “He’d be…” My breath catches. “He’d be an idiot if he didn’t want you. Manon… I have a record, no money, no job. Are you sure?”

  “I know all this,” she whispers. “Do you want me? Am I yours?”

  “Fuck yeah, you are.” I lift both our hands to her face. My pulse is roaring in my ears. “You are.”

  And I’ll do everything in my power to make her happy.

  ***

  Shoulder immobilizer in place, with a prescription and forms to fill out, I leave the hospital with strict instructions to return if the fever persists and if I notice any swelling, discoloration or numbness in my arm.

  Pumped full of sedatives and painkillers, with my shoulder fixed and my arm steadied, the pain dropping to a bearable level, I can breathe again. I can think.

  And I realize Manon is still there with me. As are the other guys. Shane, Zane, Rafe. In fact, more have appeared since last I looked: Jesse is there, with Amber, Micah and Ev.

  What the hell? They all know about my record now. Why would they bother to come check on me?

  They are quiet as they surround us, clapping each other’s backs. One by one they come to me. Ev kisses my cheek. Micah nods and squeezes my forearm.

  Jesse pulls me in for a quick hug, pats my back. “Glad you’re okay, man. When I heard they couldn’t find you, I just about punched a hole in the wall.”

  “J.” I wait until he lets go. “You know about me. I don’t fucking get it.”

  “Did you do it?” He’s staring steadily back at me, right there on the street outside the hospital, and there’s a challenge in his gaze. “Back at Damage, you claimed you were set up. Was that true?”

  I swallow hard. “Yes, it was.”

  “Then I believe you.” He grabs my hand, squeezes. “I trust you, Seth. You believed me when I needed you, had my back. If you say you’re innocent, then I believe you, man. We all do. Because we are your friends, and we fucking love you, man.”

  Fuck. I clasp his hand, hold on, ’cuz it feels like I’m caught in an eddy of emotions I don’t understand. I know I’m grateful. Happy. Touched. So fucking scared to trust in it I have no words.

  Then Manon is tugging me toward her car, and I let her, follow her blindly. My lungs feel crushed. My ribs ache. The familiar pressure is back. Feels like my heart will give out.

  Means the world to me, that they’re standing by my side, even if Zane and Rafe kicked me out. Because my record isn’t going away, and they’ve every right to be damn angry with me. The fact that they came after me, made sure I’m okay, is more than I could ever hope for.

  Finding Manon with me is more than I could ever dream.

  I’ll take that. I’ll goddamn take it and be thankful. Broken bones and dislocated shoulders are sure worth it. Small price to pay for finding out I’m not alone—no, not just that, but that my cousin, my best friend, and my girl are on my side.

  Dammit, fate. Did you plan all this? You’re damn good. I can’t ask for more—because it’s already more than I’ve ever had. More than I’ve ever imagined having.

  ***

  The question of where I’m crashing tonight never comes up. We park outside Manon’s apartment and we all file inside.

  Looks like everyone knows about my eviction from my apartment. Also where we were heading since we left the hospital.

  We all cram inside Manon’s apartment, and I’m settled on the sofa. Nobody seems about to leave, and I don’t know what’s going on. Zane is on the phone, while Jesse, Micah and Rafe are talking quietly in a corner. Ev is doing something in the kitchen together with Manon.

  So fucking weird.

  Then it gets weirder, because the doorbell rings, and more people arrive. Asher and Dylan, Ocean and Tyler, Dakota and Tessa. The whole gang is here.

  What the fuck?

  “What’s going on?” I ask when Tyler sits down beside me, and Asher on the other side of me. “What’s this? Am I under arrest or something?”

  Tyler elbows me in the ribs. “Relax, buddy. First of all, we’re checking on you, making sure you’re okay. When one of our family is hurt, we show up. Suck it up and be quiet.”

  I gape at him, and he smirks. “You know my—”

  “Your record. Yeah, heard everything.” He waves a hand back and forth dismissively. “Drug possession. When you were seventeen. And trafficking. Got it.”

  I’m still gaping at him. “But Zane—”

  “Zane lost it because you never told him. He has a thing about that. He fucking hates it when we don’t talk to him about our problems. He’s such a mother-hen.”

  Okay. I’ve landed in a Fringe episode. Alternative reality. Has to be.

  “But he…” I try again, trying to wrap my mind around this. “He sent me away. You were there. I don’t—”

  “Z-man sent you home,” Asher says from my other side. He looks dead serious. “Until he could sort things out, find out more about this. He didn’t send you away. Zane would never do that to you.”

  “That’s right,” Zane says, and fuck, when did he cross the room to stand right in front of me? I’m getting whiplash with these guys. “Now listen to me, fucker. Don’t spring things like that on me. I’m getting gray hair with this shit. You’re family, and I’m behind you all the way, no matter if you made mistakes in your past or not. I’d never have sent you away without looking into this. I trust you. As long as you trust me, too, and don’t hide things from me.”

  “We are looking into this,” Tyler says, and Jesus, I have no clue what they’re talking about.

  “Looking into what?” I glance from one to the other, mystified. My shoulder is throbbing dully, there’s a hum inside my skull. “What’s going on?”

  Zane turns toward the corner where Rafe’s standing, talking on his cell phone. “We got into contact with the jail where your mom’s held. Talked to her lawyer. It seems there might be a new development.”

  In what? I want to ask. What the hell are they doing? But I notice that everyone’s now looking at Rafe, who’s gesturing as he turns his back to us, saying something, then nodding.

  I’m distantly aware of Asher and Tyler getting up, approaching Rafe. They’re forming a circle around him. I’m left outside.

  Manon sits down beside me, takes my good hand. “Hey, you.”

  “Hey.” Her touch grounds me. Like a lifeline, it tethers me, embraces me. “Any idea what they’re doing? Who is Rafe talking to? Is…” The words catch in my mouth. “Is my mom okay?”

  “She’s fine.” She nods at Shane who’s broken away from the circle and comes to perch on the armrest of the couch. “Any news?”

  “It seems she…” He shakes his head, pulls his long hair out of his face. He looks shaken. “Your mom. She confessed.”

  I stare at him. Stare at his wide eyes, his arched brows, the shock written on every line of his face. “She what?”

  “She said you talked to her, told her things… made her realize what she’s done. Made her regret.” Shane’s eyes meet mine. “She confessed she set us up three years ago. Claims she was duped by her husband, assured we’d get off light.”

  “The hell she did.”

  “I know. But the thing is, man… she confessed. Officially and everything. Our case will be reopened.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” He just sits there, slumped over. “Yeah.”

  We stare at each other. Shouldn’t we be jumping around in joy, chest-bumping, back-thumping? Singing, or yelling or something?

  I can’t believe this is real. From Shane’s face, I bet he doesn’t either. When life has fucked you over as many times as it did us, then you’re always suspicious of the good news.

  The others don’t seem to have any trouble believing it, though. Rafe finally lowers the damn phone, and they all start yelling and punching the air. Zane grabs Dakota round the waist and swings her around, making her squeal. Micah and Ev hug each
other, laughing. Tyler and Asher bump fists.

  This is really happening. Too much to take in. Especially when Zane and Asher turn toward me and come to stand over me.

  “I have a damn good feeling about this,” Zane says, grinning like the mad joker. “We’ll clear your name, guys. Just wait and see. The Brotherhood doesn’t easily give up. Not on their own.”

  Their own. It’s slowly sinking in, in fits and starts, in rippling circles. I’m part of this brotherhood, this family. They never were about to kick me out. All this time, they’ve been trying to help. They had my back and now they’re celebrating because they might have found a way to save me. Clear my name. Give me back my life.

  Manon’s arm slips around me, and I breathe out, struggling to focus. But I can’t. My eyes have gone blurry, and I can’t breathe. I can’t. Gasping, gritting my teeth, I bend over. There’s a stone lodged under my ribs, a lump in my throat. It won’t go away.

  “Seth.” Manon twists, puts both arms around me. “Hey…”

  My chest contracts, my lungs finally allow in air, and I gasp again, dimly aware my cheeks feel cool. Wet. The pressure in my chest finally gives, and the pain starts to fade.

  More arms go around me, patting my good arm, my back, holding me. Anchoring me. Shane, Asher, Jesse.

  Fuck. I’m crying on Manon’s shoulder. What the fuck’s wrong with me? I’ve made it through the worst without shedding a damn tear, and now I can’t seem to stop.

  “I love you,” she whispers in my ear. “I love you, Seth.”

  I hang on to her voice, to her words, struggling through this, and think, well, if she still does, even after seeing me sob like a baby, then fuck it. Seriously, when all’s said and done? I’m the luckiest man in the whole damn world.

  Thank you, fate. I owe you.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Manon

  A month later

  I wake up to find Seth sitting up in bed, clutching his injured arm to his stomach. He’s graduated from a full shoulder immobilizer to a smaller sling, since that awful day when we found him in that back alley, and the doctors are happy with his progress. Still, on some days he’s in pain.