Oh God. Oh no.
It couldn’t be that. Anything but that.
If I was that stupid, that crazy, to give him my heart when he clearly didn’t want it . . . I totally was. I’d gone and done it. I’d fallen in love.
I loved Scotty Donahue.
And he was going to break my stupid heart.
My mouth stilled under his, and he held me tighter, reassuringly holding me close as he moved inside me, making my pulse race as fast as my mind. I held on to him tightly, burying my face in his shoulder when he broke off the kiss, hiding from him, to prevent him from seeing what I felt.
If he knew . . .
His lips brushed against my temple, and he moaned, moving faster, his arms going tighter around me. As he drove himself deep inside me, I climbed up that mountain with him, and when we both came, there was so much emotion and intensity behind it that it took my breath away.
He collapsed on top of me, resting his face in the crook of my neck, his arms not loosening. “Jesus,” he breathed. “What the hell was that?”
Love. It was love.
I closed my eyes, remaining silent. If I opened my mouth, I’d say something stupid, and I’d send him running so far away that he’d never come back.
“Hey.” Scotty reared back on his elbows, looking down at me with concern. His lips were soft, and his green eyes were glowing with something I couldn’t quite place. “You okay?”
I nodded, biting down on my lip. “More than okay. I’m great.”
And I love you.
He smoothed my hair off my face, then dragged his thumb over my lower lip. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but every time I close my eyes, I see you. And when I see you, I need you close by, to fill an emptiness I have a feeling will never stop.” He gave me a soft smile. “I need you, and I’m not sure what I should do about that, because I’ve never felt this way about someone before. I’ve never been unable to walk away, even though I know I should.”
“I . . .” My heart raced as I cut myself off, because I didn’t trust myself to say anything else. Those three little words, those dangerous words, were on the tip of my tongue, dying to be released. I’d never been in love before, and now that I was, I ached to be as honest in this as I was in everything else. I wanted to say it. Wanted to tell him.
When it became clear I wasn’t going to say anything else, he pushed up off me and stood, picking up his shirt and tossing it at me as he gave me his back. “I’m starving, are you?”
Sitting, I shrugged into his shirt, nodding even though he wasn’t looking at me. Didn’t matter. He didn’t really need an answer anyway. I watched him step into his pants, his movements smooth and assured as he walked to the trash to remove the condom. I buttoned up the last five buttons, then pulled my panties on. Standing, I ran my fingers through my hair, which was crazy and knotted, and probably resembled a lion’s mane more than actual hair.
He walked up to me and cradled my head tenderly, studying me with bright green eyes. “Leave it. It’s sexy as hell.”
“I . . .” And then I opened my mouth and did the worst thing possible. I told him the truth. “I love you, Scotty.”
He stared down at me, mouth open, and didn’t move.
Just stared.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway, followed by a door banging against the wall next to us. His door. I jumped, looking past him toward mine. Someone tried to turn the knob.
He froze, nostrils flaring, and paled. “Shit. Get down!”
I blinked. “What?”
Without another word, he pushed me backward, taking me off guard. I fell on my butt, skidding across the hardwood floor toward the dining room, behind the wall that separated the two rooms, and slammed my head against it hard enough to see stars. The skin on the backs of my legs burned from the friction, and my head felt like an anvil had been dropped on it.
I rolled to my side, groaning, and clutched my aching head. Blinking, I searched for Scotty, my view partially obstructed by the wall. He knelt behind my couch, breathing steadily, staring at the door like he was waiting for . . . whatever was out there.
“Scotty? What—?”
Someone kicked the door in, and a masked man stood there, holding a gun. I screamed and tried to struggle to my feet, but my limbs were like jelly, and I just went limp. There was nothing solid in my body except for fear. It pounded through me like a locomotive train, barreling through without hesitation, and I was so sure I was about to watch the man I loved die.
Scotty let out a terrifying battle cry—there was no other word for it—and charged the gunman without even a hint of fear, and the boom of a bullet being discharged from the barrel filled my home. They went down in a tangle of limbs and the gun skidded across the floor uselessly.
I scooted farther away on my butt, breathing heavily, eyes wide as they struggled against one another for control of the weapon. Blood smeared the wood as they rolled, and I gasped, covering my mouth, unable to stop looking at the streaks. Not even after they rolled again, smearing the blood into discernable blobs.
Someone was bleeding.
God, had Scotty been shot?
Since the gun had slid toward my hiding spot behind the wall between the living room and dining room, I reached for it, but the attacker’s foot hit it before I could close my hand around it, sending the weapon skidding out of my reach. Scotty managed to get on top of the shooter, and I found out where the blood was coming from—Scotty.
He’d been hit in the shoulder, and yet he was still fighting like it was nothing.
Like he felt no pain.
He lifted his fist and plowed it down into the man’s face mercilessly, bone crunching under the force of his punch. As the man struggled to reach the gun, he shoved his forearm into Scotty’s throat, forcing his head backward. Scotty’s long fingers, the same fingers which had stroked me into heaven, closed over the grip of the gun, and he aimed it at the man beneath him, braced himself, and pulled the trigger.
Blood splattered all across Scotty’s face and chest.
The scream I let out was almost as loud as the gunshot.
I covered my ringing ears as I stared at the intruder. Blood seeped out of his throat where the bullet had hit, spurting as he stared at the ceiling with wide, horrified eyes.
Within seconds, it was over, and I had a dead man in my living room.
Scotty struggled to his feet, ripping the mask off the man. I covered my mouth when I saw how young he was. He didn’t even look old enough to drink, let alone murder someone. Scotty cursed, tossed the mask on the floor, and swiped a bloody forearm over his forehead.
It didn’t help.
If anything, he looked bloodier than before.
He was breathing heavily, and there was a murderous rage burning deep in his eyes, but it chilled as he focused on me. He softened, right in front of my eyes. Glancing at the dead man at his feet, he stepped between us, blocking him from my view as he held a hand out, the other one still firmly wrapped around the gun. “Skylar . . .” he started.
I backed up a step, heart pounding, fear still coursing through me because of what I saw behind him. It wasn’t over. None of this was over.
Something crossed his expression at my retreat. He held his hands up higher. They were stained red. I swore I could smell it. The blood. All over him. “Don’t be scared. I’m a—”
He cut himself off as two more masked men came up behind him, both holding guns. One was aimed at me, one at him. He tensed before they even spoke, somehow sensing them.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn around and keep going, before I have to kill you both,” he warned. “If you’re the same age as the first one, you have too much to live for to die fighting a fight that’s not even yours. Run. Now.”
The chill factor in his voice was enough to set off an arctic freeze. Howeve
r, the men didn’t so much as hesitate. If anything, they got even more confident. “You might be stupid enough to risk your life, but I’m guessing you won’t risk hers. Lower the gun.”
Scotty locked eyes with me, and what I saw there—the anger, fear, and vulnerability—sent the same coursing through me. He lowered his gun to the floor, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Something told me if he were alone, he would take on both these guys and win, and would walk away with a few scrapes. But because I was here . . . he was going to die.
We were both going to die.
CHAPTER 17
SCOTTY
This was why guys like me shouldn’t fall in love, or give ourselves over to the weakness that came along with it. But I’d stupidly let my heart guide me, and now I was going to get her killed with my selfishness.
Chris was right earlier.
I never should have come back.
Instead, I should have watched her from a distance, like Tate requested, and I should have kept my dirty hands to myself. I held them up, staring at the bloodstained tips. It was under my nails, in the cracks of my skin, and there was still more bloodshed to come, because I would die before I let them touch a hair on her head. By the time this was over, I’d never be clean again.
She watched me, eyes wide, lips parted. “Sc-Scotty?”
“You’re going to regret this,” I said, forcing my attention off of Sky and keeping my voice low. The kid behind me smelled like Old Spice cologne and Axe aftershave. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”
“We know exactly who you are.” The kid behind me crept around, heading for Sky. I tensed, my fingers itching to wrap around his throat. “We followed you from the hospital, and waited to see where you went. Our intel said you were next door, but apparently you’re fucking the neighbor.” He licked his lips and swaggered forward, laughing. Sky stiffened. “I can see why. Damn, girl. Stand up so I can see all of you.”
Sky didn’t say a word.
And she sure as hell didn’t stand.
“Let me rephrase that,” he said, aiming the gun at her head. “Stand up or I’ll shoot you, and my buddy will kill your lover right in front of you, after I make him watch us together.”
Sky paled, her gaze flitting to me, and struggled to her feet.
She stumbled, but caught herself.
Rage rushed through my veins, and I took a step forward. A gun pressed against the back of my head and I froze, my pulse racing. That was his first mistake. Getting so close. The second was in thinking I froze because I was scared. I wasn’t. I was pissed.
They dared to threaten my girl.
“Don’t hurt him.” She rolled her hands into fists and lifted her chin. She looked so defiant, standing there in nothing more than my shirt. “Don’t even touch him.”
The man approaching her laughed. “I don’t take orders from chicks.” He walked behind her, touching her shoulder. She flinched, but otherwise remained still. “No matter how pretty they are.”
“If you’re looking for a protection fee, I can pay it,” she said in a rush. “Just put the guns away.”
“This isn’t about money. It’s about him.” He pressed his gun against her temple, closing an arm around her waist. “You should have picked a better lover. One who wasn’t a Son.”
Her gaze slammed into mine. “He’s out.”
“No. He isn’t.” The guy behind her laughed. “Tell her.”
I didn’t say anything. I wouldn’t speak on command.
The kid cocked the trigger. “Whatever. Take your secrets to the grave. But first . . . ?”
His hand crept up Sky’s shirt, groping her breast. She flinched, but she didn’t cower away or make a sound. A small tear escaped her eye, and that was the end of it for me.
They’d made my girl cry.
Spinning, I grabbed the other man’s gun out of his lax grip, since he was too busy drooling over Sky, and shot him without a hint of the regret I’d felt with the other kids. He collapsed to the ground lifelessly, like a broken marionette. I spun to take the second one out, knowing this would be trickier since Sky was in front of him.
Just as I was about to launch myself at them, Skylar slammed the back of her head into his nose, stomped on his foot, and then leapt out of the way when he released her to clutch his nose. As she rolled across the floor, I pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger.
My aim was true.
The kid hit the floor, red spreading across his chest. He twitched, lying on his side, and then stilled, his brown eyes staring vacantly straight ahead, his black ski mask twisted and half off.
I fell to my knees, clutching my shoulder where I’d been hit. It stung like a bitch, and the room was starting to blur a bit from blood loss. Guess it was worse than I originally thought. I gritted my teeth, blinking against the unconsciousness trying to take me down, and focused on Sky’s pale face. Immediately, a calm took over, like she had a medicinal effect on my nerves.
She sat on the floor, eyes wide, hugging her knees as she rocked back and forth.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly, blinking away the blackness.
She didn’t answer. Just stared straight ahead.
Shit. She was in shock.
“Sky?” I said, struggling to stand, to get to her. “It’s okay.”
“I know. I’m fine. Sandra Bullock saved the day,” she said, laughing. It came out hysterical sounding. She covered her mouth, still staring. “She . . . I . . .”
I steadied myself on my feet, swaying slightly, trying to keep her mind off what happened, and Sandra Bullock seemed a good enough way to do that as any. “How’d she do that?”
“Huh?” Her head lifted up, and she blinked at me. “Oh. I learned that move from my favorite movie. When you didn’t come over, I binge-watched her movies last night. She teaches people to defend themselves in one of them.”
I took a step toward her, pressing my palm to my shoulder to slow the bleeding, forcing a reassuring smile. The room spun, and I wasn’t sure if I’d make it to her side before passing out, but I was determined as hell to try. She stared at the guy who’d been holding her. The one she’d helped me kill. The horror in her eyes would haunt me forever. “Which movie?” I asked softly.
“Miss Congeniality. It’s S.I.N.G. Solar plexus, instep, nose, groin.” She let out a small laugh, then covered her mouth, staring at the man who had been holding her captive. “I . . . I . . .”
I fell to my knees in front of her, reaching out and cupping her cheek. I left streaks of red behind on her pale, perfect skin, and that’s all I could see. “Sh. I’ve got you.”
She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks, smearing the blood streaks. A tear landed with a splat on the hardwood floor, and I tried to pull her into my arms, but she pushed back, staring at my shoulder. “You’re shot. We have to call the police. Report this.”
She was right. There was no way we could avoid this mess. Someone had probably already called it in. We hadn’t been attacked in Steel Row, so there wouldn’t be a whole lot of time before the cops showed up, and then I’d have to go through all the shit of being treated like a gang member, while secretly contacting my superior and getting him to haul my ass out of jail. I was exhausted just thinking about all the bureaucratic hoops I’d have to jump through, but, more important, I had to make sure Sky was okay.
“They’re on their way, I’m sure.” I grabbed her hand, but my vision was starting to fade. “I might pass out, Sky. I’ll be okay, but I lost a lot of blood, so I don’t think . . .” I cut off, because footsteps came pounding down the hallway, rushing toward us. “Shit.”
She looked up at me with fear-filled blue eyes. “Oh God. It’s not over?”
“It’s probably just the cops, but stay down just in case.” I struggled to my feet, turned, lifted the gun, and took aim. My grip was
firm, even if I was barely conscious. “I won’t let anyone else hurt you again. I swear it, Sky.”
If this wasn’t the cops, if this was another attack, they’d find they picked the wrong target. I wasn’t fighting for my life—I was fighting for hers.
When it came to Skylar’s safety, I had no mercy.
Tate skidded into view, almost tripping over the first dead body. He surveyed the scene, counting the corpses, and his face went paler than I’d ever seen before. He was always so calm. So collected. But not tonight. He turned in a slow circle, taking in the carnage inside his sister’s usually pristine apartment with horror, like he couldn’t put the violence in place with the location. She wasn’t supposed to be touched by this life, so it was almost as if his brain couldn’t deal with it.
Brian came up behind him, gun drawn.
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved it was them, or start running for my life now, before Tate realized why I’d been here for the whole attack. But at least Sky was safe now. That was all that mattered. I lowered my gun, releasing a breath.
“Skylar?” Tate croaked, tucking his gun into his waistband, under his fancy suit, scanning for his baby sister. “Skylar!” he called frantically.
“H-here,” she whispered. “I’m here. But Scotty’s hurt.”
Tate ran into the room, totally ignoring me and everything else, sliding on his knees to her side. He pulled her into his arms, lowering his face to her hair, and breathing in deeply. His hand trembled at he cradled the back of her head. “Jesus Christ. I’m sorry. Are you okay, Skylar?”
She nodded, clinging to him. “Scotty saved me. He . . . he saved my life.”
Brian shook his head, staring at me, and came to my side. “You need the doc.”
“Yeah.” I turned my head to look at my shoulder in surprise. For a second there, watching Tate and Skylar, I’d forgotten about the pain. Now, though, I clutched my shoulder. “I think I do.”
Dare to Lie Page 17
