Weakness got you killed in this life.
And, apparently, it got your girl killed, too.
Not that Molly was actually dead, but it wasn’t for lack of effort on Bitter Hill’s part. It was because a cop had been too close for comfort. That was the only reason she was still breathing, and there was no guarantee that her lungs would continue to operate. She’d only be truly safe when this war was over, and then I’d try my damnedest to make sure the Sons didn’t start another.
We needed to end this, before more innocent people were taken down. Immediately, my mind went to Skylar and the way I’d left things. There was no doubt in my mind she was pissed at me for pushing her away, but if she knew the dangers of being with me, if she fully understood what it meant, she would be thanking me, not giving me the evil eye. It wasn’t that she wasn’t worth the risk—it was that I wasn’t worth the risk.
She just didn’t know it yet.
One of the things they taught me at my accelerated program in Quantico—because a long absence wasn’t easy to explain to the Sons—was that while you were permitted to have relationships once you graduated, you had to remember that anyone you loved was dragged into your life, and that you’d have to keep secrets from them—and they’d have to be okay with that. Plenty of agents had wives, and children, and they were perfectly safe from harm. But I wasn’t just an agent. I was also in a gang, and Skylar was the gang leader’s sister . . .
Nothing was simple with us.
I stopped at the parking garage gate and grabbed a ticket, handing it off to Chris. “For later.”
He pocketed it and hung up, his face filling with color a little bit more. “Thanks.”
“Any news?”
“She’s on the fourth floor, under general observation. I didn’t get to talk to her, but she’s conscious and stable.” He undid his seat belt and opened the door. “I need to see her, man.”
I followed, locking the car and trailing him silently. Chris pushed the button on the elevator that would take us to ground level, so we could cross the road and go into Boston West. It was an upscale hospital, not a place Steel Row guys like us were usually sent, so hopefully she’d be safe here. I was fairly certain Chris would ensure that.
Knowing him, she’d have a full security detail from now on.
He and Molly could certainly afford it.
“If she’s in the hospital awhile, you can sit out next week.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “We can take care of Bitter Hill without you.”
“Hell no. I’ll be there.”
“I figured,” I said dryly. I wished he wouldn’t come, though. It would be one less person for me to worry about. The only reason he was helping me was because of his guilt over attempting to murder my brother. Now he was dedicated to making sure I lived, even at the expense of his own life. I’d seen it come into play enough times to know he’d die for me.
And that’s not something I needed on my conscience.
I had enough damn shit there already.
“Don’t be stupid, though,” I added.
He snorted. “And by stupid, you mean don’t try to save your ass if you’re about to be eighty-sixed. Right?”
“Precisely.”
“I swore to keep you alive for Lucas, and I stand by that.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, frowning. “I’ve already broken enough promises to Lucas. I won’t break this one.”
“He doesn’t know you made this promise,” I pointed out pragmatically. “He was gone when you decided to become a goddamn knight in shining armor.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Chris said, stubbornly jutting his chin out. His brown hair stood on edge, and he had a light to his eyes that suggested I was getting nowhere with him. “I made it, and I’m not breaking it. End of story.”
“You also made a promise to Molly, to love her for the rest of your life.” I walked into the elevator, holding the door open for him as he came in. “You know how you feel right now? How scared and pissed you are that she got hurt?”
He shot me a no shit, Sherlock look.
“Well, if you do something stupid and get yourself killed, Molly will be going through this for the rest of her life. This empty, angry, churning feeling in your gut?” I pushed the fourth-floor button. “That’ll be her. Sad, and angry, and alone, all because you wanted to pay back a debt to a man who is happier now than he was before you tried to kill him.”
Finally, doubt shadowed his eyes. But, stubbornly, he persisted. “I won’t stand back and let you die.”
“I never said you should.” I rubbed my jaw. “Just don’t do some crazy savior shit for the sake of being a hero. I don’t need that from you. Just have good aim, cover my back, and be smart. That’s all I need. And if I go down, then so be it. I know the risks I run in my line of work.”
“I won’t be stupid, but I won’t be a damn coward either.” Chris locked eyes with me, his dark brown ones torn with indecision. “That’s all I can promise you.”
It wasn’t enough, but I guessed it would have to do.
The elevator doors opened, and he charged through them, heading right for the desk with a nurse in scrubs behind it. He set his hands on the flat white top. “Where is she?”
She flinched away, instinctively sensing danger, and scooted her chair back, resting her hand on the phone on her desk. “Can I . . . help you . . . sir?”
“Molly Lachlan.” He gripped the edge of the desk. “Where is she?”
“Who are you, sir?” the woman asked, her cheeks paling. “We can’t just give out information to nonfamily.”
“I’m the only family she has. I’m her fiancé.”
My jaw dropped, because he hadn’t said a damn word about that. Maybe he was just making it up, to ensure he could get back to her room without a hitch.
“Your name, sir?” the nurse asked hesitantly, giving Chris the once-over all girls like her gave to guys like us. Half terrified, half turned on.
“Chris O’Brien.”
She clicked her mouse, staring at the screen. “Yes, I see you here, listed as her fiancé.”
“Chris—” I started.
“Not now.” He gave me his back. “What room is she in?”
“406. I can take you there.”
The woman stood up, watching Chris carefully, before scrutinizing me. She looked at me with the same fear-slash-attraction. She was wasting her time. I might be a man-whore, but right now there was only one woman on my mind, and this nurse wasn’t about to change that.
We followed her, and I trailed slightly behind Chris, guarding his back since he was too fucked up right now to pay attention to his surroundings. When we stopped in front of her open door, his hand trembled as he rested it on the door frame, letting out a shaky breath. The tenderness in his eyes, the absolute terror and love, was enough to floor even a cynic like me.
“Princess,” he whispered, his voice cracking.
Molly turned her head toward him, a soft smile lighting up her face, despite the bruise already forming by her eye and the split lip cracking her smile. “I’m okay.”
“I . . .” He rushed across the room, falling to his knees at the side of her bed, resting his head on her chest. He didn’t say anything else, just wrapped his arms around her, and she rested her left hand on his head, running her fingers through his hair, her diamond engagement ring twinkling in the fluorescent lights.
Damn it.
It wasn’t a lie.
He’d proposed to Molly.
I watched the tender scene between the two of them, knowing I was intruding but unable to look away. I heard the soft squeaking of her shoes as the nurse backed out of the room, giving us privacy. Chris tipped his head toward Molly’s, and he looked at her like she was his whole world, the only thing that mattered, and I knew him well enough to know that’s exactly how he felt. That
his whole life revolved around this one tiny woman. And yet . . .
He’d still give it up for me.
I had underestimated Chris O’Brien.
He was a hero, and he deserved to live the life of one.
This war with Bitter Hill would end, and we would win, and then I’d find a way to get him free from this life, too. I’d find a way for him and Molly to be happy and live a normal life, just like I’d done for Heidi and Lucas. I had to give them that, even if it cost me everything.
Because I had less to lose.
My mind went to Skylar, and the way it felt when I held her in my arms, but I shook that thought off. That completion, that happiness, was nothing compared to my duty to this man.
Swallowing hard, I walked away, my heart heavy and aching in my chest as I called a taxi. I gave the driver the address of the Danielses’ apartment building, and made the ride in silence. We passed tourists bundled in winter jackets, holding hands and laughing as they explored Boston, carrying on with their lives like normal people did. No worries of gang wars, or maintaining your cover so you didn’t get yourself shot. No car crashes that weren’t really accidents at all. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the way Chris had looked at Molly, and the way she’d looked at him, and the warmth that had made me feel in my chest. And I couldn’t stop thinking of Skylar . . .
And how she made me feel that way, too.
Warm.
Tossing a twenty at the driver, I got out of the cab and made my way up to the second floor, my heart pounding as I climbed the stairs two at a time. I walked right up to her apartment and stopped, pressing my ear against her door. I needed to hear something. I knew she was safe, that no one knew she existed or that she was mine. But Bitter Hill was striking our women, and I needed to know she was okay. I listened, holding my breath.
There was silence, no hint of life, or anything else inside the room. I flattened my palm against the cool wood, pressing against it harder. If she didn’t sneeze or cough—
I heard it too late.
The sliding of a latch.
The door swung in, and I stumbled inside her condo, falling into her arms. She caught me, stumbling backward under my weight, and I caught both of us, locking my feet into position and pulling her close until we ended up in each other’s arms.
Right where we damn well belonged.
It might be stupid, and it might be a horrible idea, but the way Chris looked at Molly? That’s how I felt about Skylar. She was my world . . . and tonight, I needed to be with her.
She let out a small sound, steadied herself, and looked up at me in surprise, dropping the bag of garbage she’d held. “Scotty? What—?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t mean to . . . to . . .”
She cocked her head to the side. “Didn’t mean to what?”
Fall for you. Care about you. Let you in. “Knock.”
“You didn’t,” she said slowly.
“I know. But I would’ve.” We stared at one another, with nothing watching us but the white walls of her home, both of us breathing heavily, and I didn’t let her go. I didn’t step closer either, but still. I should have let go. I should have walked away. I curled my hands over the fabric of her shirt tightly. “I have to go.”
She breathed in, slow and deep. “Okay.”
When I didn’t move, she blinked.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes soft with concern, and with something else I was too much of a pussy to admit.
I stared at her, trying my damnedest not to say anything.
To admit nothing.
I shook my head once. Visions popped through my head. Bobby’s bloody shoelaces. The kid with the shaved head running for his life before Brian and Frankie shot him. Chris, clinging to Molly, terrified to lose her. Lucas, fighting for Heidi’s life, and his own.
I was done denying myself the one thing that would make it all go away.
The one thing that made me better. Her.
“No,” I said, my voice raspy as hell. “I’m not okay. Nothing is okay.”
And then I kissed her.
CHAPTER 16
SKYLAR
I curled my fists into his jacket, holding on for dear life. Scotty Donahue was, hands down, the most confusing man I’d ever met. He told me he wasn’t the guy for me in one breath, then proved he was. He told me I shouldn’t be with him, then pulled me closer. He ignored me, then kissed me like he couldn’t breathe without me. When he held me in his arms like this, his kiss made everything better. I didn’t know what that meant yet, or why he had so much power over me, but he did.
And I had a feeling that wasn’t changing any time soon.
Not even when he walked away for good.
He cradled my face in his hands, backing me toward my couch as his mouth ravaged mine, no mercy—and I was totally okay with that. His mouth continued to claim me as he pressed his body against mine, slipping a hand under my butt as he slid between my legs. His hardness pressed against where I needed him most, filling me in ways only he could.
We were destined to be together, him and me, and the sooner he accepted that, the better. I had. I did. He was mine. And I was his. We just made sense.
He nodded, almost as if he heard my thoughts, and broke off the kiss long enough to rip my shirt over my head, tossing it on the living room floor. The second he had that off, he undid my bra and then closed his mouth over my nipple, sucking on it deeply. I moaned and threaded my hands through his hair, arching my back as a short breath escaped my lungs. “Scotty.”
His hand slipped in between my legs, giving me what I wanted. He released my one nipple with a popping sound, and went to the other, giving it the same attention he gave the first. At the same time, he circled his fingertips over my core, teasing me, giving me what I needed, but not enough of it. I groaned and tugged on his hair impatiently.
He scraped the edges of his teeth over my second nipple, sending pleasure rocketing through my body to pool in my belly. He kissed a path down my body, taking his hand with him, stopping at the small patch of skin directly over my waistband. As he rolled my leggings down, I lifted my hips to help. He made quick work of the panties I wore, too, and then I was naked under him.
Thank God.
He leaned back, staring at my body with heated eyes, trailing the tip of his finger from the base of my throat down to the top of the tiny triangle of hair at the juncture of my thighs. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, Sky. So soft. So gentle. So . . .” He locked eyes with me, dipping his finger between my legs to touch me. “. . . good.”
I let my eyes close, opening my thighs more, pushing his head slightly down so he’d get my message. “I’m not that good. Right now, I wanna be bad. Really bad.”
He chuckled, the raw sound washing over me like his fingertips on my skin as he slid lower over my body, dropping a kiss on my inner thigh. “Lucky for you? I happen to excel at being bad. It’s all I know.”
I opened my mouth to argue with him, to tell him that a guy who worried he was bad wasn’t bad at all, but then he closed his mouth over me and all coherent thought left. I arched against his tongue and closed my eyes, offering myself to him in the most intimate way I knew. He palmed my breasts as his tongue moved over me, squeezing my nipples and driving me insane with pleasure, and need, and . . . and . . .
Crying out, I squeezed my legs on either side of his head, writhing against his mouth, desperate for the pleasure I knew he could give me. He made a low, sexy sound, and released a breast so he could thrust a finger inside me, slashing his tongue over me harder as he did so. I screamed something incoherent, straining against him, and then he did it again . . .
Sending me to heaven and back.
He pushed off the couch and tore his shirt over his head, his muscles flexing as he undid his jeans, kicking out of
them impatiently after taking a condom out of his back pocket. I dropped an arm off the couch, letting it hang there as I came back down from the high he’d sent me on, watching him from under my lashes. He pushed his boxers down his hips, rolled the condom over his erection, and squeezed it once.
“It’s almost a crime to touch you right now,” he said, locking eyes with me. “You look so pretty lying there, cheeks flushed, nipples hard. If I could draw like my buddy Chris, I’d make a picture of you. Right here. Like this. You’re the prettiest picture I’ve ever seen.”
A car honked outside, and another one honked back. Voices rose in anger, and a police siren wailed, but Scotty didn’t even hesitate as he stepped closer to me, ignoring everything else. He was looking at me like he would never get enough, and it was dangerous to think that. To believe he needed me like I needed him. “I’m yours, Scotty, even if you’re never mine. And that won’t change, whether you like it or not.”
“I like it too much.”
I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure what to say.
“I shouldn’t say this. Shouldn’t be honest.” His chest rose and fell fast. “But I’ve been yours since the second you touched me, and I’m done pretending that’s not true. Done denying it,” he admitted, his voice raw. “You and me, we’ve got something special.”
It was a big admission, coming from a guy like him, and we both knew it.
Without saying anything else, without needing anything else, I opened my arms to him. He hesitated, then slid into them, wrapping his under me so he held me close. I locked my legs around him, knowing this was different somehow. That what we were doing wasn’t just sex, or just fun, or meaningless. It was real, and we were crossing a line we’d sworn not to cross.
His mouth sought and found mine, and we groaned in unison as he pushed inside me, filling me in ways no other man had . . . or could. I knew fully well that he was going to hurt me in the end, and I didn’t care. I couldn’t think of any cold, logical reason why I would be so stupid unless . . . unless . . .
Dare to Lie Page 16
