by K. S. Thomas
“Names, matchy tats, anything like that is just bad juju when it comes to relationships. Trust me.”
“What if we were married? If we were locked in with one another for the rest of our lives? Then would you have my name tattooed on you?” She’s changing her tune now, going for the sweet vibe. It’s not working though.
“No, Juli.” He sounds like his patience is wearing thin with her. “I’ve told you a million times. I’m never putting anyone’s name on my body. Not even yours. Not even if we’re married.”
I pause, my gaze automatically travelling to his wrist and Riot’s name written there for all eternity. When I turn back toward Lucas he’s watching me over his shoulder, his eyes telling me to keep my mouth shut. Juli doesn’t know.
I take a deep breath and get back to work. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can get her out of here.
“What about you, Heartbreaker? Do you have anyone’s name on you?”
Oh, good God, now she’s roping me into this.
“Yep.”
“Ha!” she says triumphantly.
“My grandmother’s. I never knew her, but my father told me such amazing stories about her, she’s always been a sort of source of inspiration for me. I had her name put right below my heart on my ribcage, to remind me where I come from. What I’m capable of,” I ramble on as I continue to fill in the blue wings of Lucas’s dragon. I find it way too satisfying, putting her in her place like this. I’m not even sure why she rubs me the wrong way. It’s not like we never get girls like her in here. Get them all the time, but they’re not dating Memphis. Memphis is one of the best. He deserves the best. I just don’t feel like that’s what he’s getting here.
“Learn something new every day,” Lucas mutters softly under his breath so only I can hear him.
I stop what I’m doing and turn toward Juli and Memphis. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Maybe it’s standing so close to him and his half naked body for too long. Maybe it’s the sweet, genuine sound of his words telling me he wants to know me, really know me. Or maybe it’s just the burning desire at the pit of my stomach urging me to get Juli and her prying eyes away from me as far and fast as possible.
“You know, you guys don’t have to wait. Lucas and I can just go home together when I’m done.”
It’s like the whole world just stood still. Every head in the place is turned toward me.
“Yes. That’s right. I said it. We’re going home together. We are a we. Lucas is my boyfriend now. Whatever. It’s not a big deal.”
I can hear Cherry giggle. Princess is grinning like the Cheshire fucking cat, and Mouth and Sketch actually high five. Everyone else in the building just kind of stares around, slightly confused but still clear that something positive just happened.
Lucas stands, facing me. “That kinda killed you, didn’t it?! Just announcing it to the world like that. Had to hurt a little.” Mockery. Always with the mockery.
“Don’t make me take it back, because I could.” I twitch my mouth back and forth, doing my damnedest to keep it from spreading out across my face. No way am I smiling. “Now sit your ass back down so I can finish this.”
“I like it when you get bossy like that,” he carries on with his teasing. Sweet Jesus, he’s hot when he’s pissing me off.
Memphis taps Lucas’s knee with the back of his hand. “We’re out of here then. Later, Heartbreaker.”
“It was good seeing you. Don’t be a stranger while you’re in town.” I wave at Juli who isn’t nearly as chatty anymore. Memphis says goodbye to Sketch on the way out, but it’s in passing since she has a client and he has Juli. Then, they’re gone and the steady murmur of the shop takes over, letting me zone out and focus on my work.
After I finish with Lucas, I have two more appointments before it’s time to close up for the night. It’s down to just him and Sketch keeping me company as I’m counting out the cash and preparing the night drop. I have a safe here in the office, but ever since Marcus went into business right outside my back door, I’ve made it a habit not to leave any money in the building overnight. Granted, I have a near fatal anxiety attack every time I have to walk from the door to my car with the bag full of cash, but it’s better than the nervous breakdown I’d have every night lying in bed wondering if my business was being plundered.
Lucas lets out a low whistle as I bag up the bundles of twenties. “Maybe I should come and work for you.”
“Sorry, no boys allowed here,” I remind him even though I know he’s not serious.
“What are you doing for money these days?” Sketch inquires as she pulls up a stool and sits down, rolling back and forth on it.
“Savings. I’ve had a decent income for the last seven years and hardly any bills. Money isn’t the issue right now. Figuring out what the hell I want to do with my life is.”
She nods, staring at the ground. She’s half thinking, half zoning out. It’s not for lack of caring, but I know she’s exhausted. Working morning ‘til night here, we both are. “Aren’t you supposed to be all set on the McNealy path to family success?”
He snorts. “Depends on your definition of success.”
“I take it yours has nothing to do with boatloads of money and mansions big enough to house a small village?” I ask. I know the answer. I’ve assumed the answer. I want to hear it.
“Does yours?”
“You’ve seen where I live. What do you think?” I laugh. Money is nice and all, but it’s not the be all end all in my world. Never has been.
He bends down, placing each hand on one arm rest of my chair and facing me full on. “I think you define success by living on your own terms, doing what you love and pushing yourself to reach for higher standards, always exceeding everyone’s expectations but never touching your own.” He pauses, his stare lingering on me making my insides slowly unravel, “that’s what I want.”
“That all?”
“Almost.”
I’m holding my breath, convinced he’s about to point out yet again that I’m part of his long-term plans for the future. But he stays silent, his sexy lips hitching up just ever so slightly, letting me know that once again, he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Sketch clears her throat loudly, reminding us of her presence. Not that I forgot she was here. I sort of forgot she was here.
“Are we done here, or what?”
Lucas straightens up, releasing me from my temporary man prison. As soon as he does, I zip up the deposit bag and drop it into my extra-large purse. “Yes. We’re done.”
“Thank God. You two are almost unbearable to watch.” She gets to her feet and pushes the stool back into the corner. “I think I liked it better when you two were busy pretending you weren’t hot for each other.”
Lucas brings his hands up to dispute her. “I’ve never pretended that.”
Both of them turn toward me, anticipating my denial, which truth be told, I was fully prepared to announce as soon as I heard her say what she said. A kneejerk reaction; one I realize would not result in an ending favorable to me. So I sigh, admitting defeat.
“Yeah, I pretended the hell out of it. It was the more respectable thing to do, and, for the record, I also liked it better that way.”
Sketch grins. There’s something unsettling brewing in her eyes. She’s about to humiliate me, I just know it.
“Really? Respectable? That’s the word you would choose to describe hiding in his mother’s garage, with your horny hot body hanging in the open refrigerator, crying into the phone for me to come and save you from the sexy soldier boy who just won’t leave you alone?”
Lucas can barely contain his delight at her statement. I hate them both.
“You suck.” I glare at her, walking past them and toward the door. I purposely flip the lights out without warning.
His arm snakes around my waist, slowing me down and putting my backside closer to his body than I would consider to be safe given the current topic of conversation.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been having to hide spontaneous boners from people for the last fourteen years. It’s been no picnic pining away for you all this time.”
“Sometimes, you weren’t so hot at hiding them,” Sketch remarks snarkily, reaching for the handle and letting her hand hover on it. “Now break it up before you get another one and Heartbreaker gets too frazzled to punch in the code to activate the alarm.”
“I’m going to remember this, you know.” I move over to the security system’s panel and put in the code.
“And what?”
“And someday, the tables will turn and you’ll be the one getting all antsy and horny over someone and I’m going to dish it back with seconds.”
Sketch grins, opening the door and leading the way outside. “Never going to happen. Me and all that lovey bullshit parted ways ages ago and I have no intention of letting our paths cross again. Ever.”
A bold statement from someone whose one and only long-term relationship has been a constant on again off again for the last decade.
“Oh, it’s going to happen, and I’m going to be ready when it does.”
Sketch turns back to counter, when our silly argument is interrupted by a body being thrown out through the main entrance of the warehouse, slamming into a van parked a few feet over and a man the size of a beast coming flying out after him like he’s prey and the beast is going in for the kill.
Lucas
I’m just at the passenger side door of Liv’s car, preparing to open it for her so I can take her by the bank and then home, when the commotion of a struggle stops me dead in my tracks. Cursing myself for stepping away from her, even just for a second, I hurry back to reach her. Only Liv is on the move as well. Before I can stop her, she’s flinging herself between the kid, slouching against the van, barely even conscious, and the hulk of a dude fixing to pound him into the ground.
“Back off!” she yells, spreading her arms out to shield the crumbling guy behind her.
I don’t wait to see if the hulk will listen. I just swing and hit, punching him square in the side of his jaw and knocking him back. He stumbles but catches himself before he falls. Having no intention of letting him gather his footing again so he can come after me instead of the kid heaped on the ground at Liv’s feet, I charge at him, fists at the ready. This guy’s at least a foot taller than me, but his fighting methods are based on his size, not skill, so I’ve got the upper hand. At least for the time being. Even as we’re going at each other, I can see more guys spilling out of the building and into the lot. It’s just a matter of time before I’m outnumbered in this brawl.
I have a split second of eye contact with Sketch, who’s busy helping Liv get the kid back to his feet and I yell, “Get her the hell out of here!”
“Yeah, okay.” Even under duress I can make out the sarcasm.
I barely dodge a fist to my temple, when someone else bear hugs me from behind and drags me backwards. I snap my head back, forcefully slamming my skull into my newest opponent, who lets go in an instant. It’s no use though. Three more guys are coming at me.
Liv is screaming for the fighting to stop while Sketch is busy cursing loudly at anyone who dares come within a five-foot radius of her and Liv. I can taste blood coming from my split lip. Not sure when that happened, but I’m guessing it’s not the only place I’ve been hit.
“Enough!” A new voice. One I don’t recognize. But I’m the only one, because the fighting stops instantly. My eyes dart straight to Liv. She’s paler than I’ve ever seen her, staring right back at me. The fear is vividly etched into every fleck of skin on her beautiful face. Seeing it hurts worse than anything else bleeding or broken right now.
“Marcus, maybe you’d like to explain to your sister that we’re running a business here. A business she should stay out of in the future, provided she values the prospect of having one.” Now that I can see him, I understand why it only took one word to call off his henchmen. He’s not big, but he’s dangerous. If the maniacal way he smiles when he talks is any indication of it, he’s not just a career criminal but a full-blown psychopath.
“Maybe someone should explain to you, that my business was here first and a dead body in my parking lot would be a real fucking problem for me.”
Goddammit. Why can’t she ever be scared silent?!
“Olivia,” Marcus cuts in before his boss can. “Inside. Now. We need to have a little chat.”
“Fuck that.” All eyes are back on me. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”
“I thought we already had this talk, Lucas.” Marcus moves into my path until we’re looking right at each other.
“So did I. Apparently, you weren’t listening.” I’ll take on every fucking guy out here before I let her walk out of my sight.
“Marcus,” the man’s voice is increasingly impatient. “Deal with this.” He flicks his wrist in our direction. “Or I will.” And there’s no misinterpreting his statement.
“I’ll handle it.” Marcus nods curtly. “This won’t happen again.”
“It better not.” He leers at Liv in a way that makes me want to puke my fucking guts out. No man should ever look at a woman that way, least of all the one I love. And I know, without a second’s contemplation or second guess, that I would kill him if he ever touched her.
Chapter Seventeen
Heartbreaker
The kid who started this whole mess is still slouched over on the ground at my feet. One of his hands is loosely wrapped around my ankle; he doesn’t even have the strength to grip it. Blood is leaking from his split brow and busted nose, and judging by the way he groans with every breath, his ribs are at the very least severely bruised, but more than likely broken.
But the worst part in all of this, is that I know him. His name is Wes. He goes to school with Madi. He’s been to my house. Studied with her when they were partnered up in debate class last year. Had dinner in my kitchen, stayed late to watch The Breakfast Club one night. I liked him. How I feel about him at this moment in time is up for debate. The way the words stupid fucking kid keep running on repeat in my mind don’t bode well for him, but am I prepared to watch some asshole beat him to death? No fucking way.
“Step away from the boy, Olivia,” my brother orders with his men on standby, ready to haul the kid off to finish whatever the hell they started before they wound up out here.
“No.”
“Olivia.” There’s an underlying plea in his stern tone.
“Why? What did he do?” I demand. Maybe if Marcus hears himself say it out loud he’ll realize how ridiculous it is to kill someone over.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“They cheated,” Wes mutters through his ragged, painful breaths.
“You’re letting kids walk blindly into fixed fights? Why the fuck doesn’t that surprise me?” Lucas’s voice forces me to turn my head in his direction. It’s a pull I can’t control, or break free from, and I hate it. Especially now, because he’s bleeding too. His lip is swollen, and the blood is smeared across his jaw from where he keeps wiping it with the back of his hand.
I take little solace in seeing him standing upright, walking without wincing, because I know he could be dying from internal injuries and somehow he’d still manage to put up a front and keep fighting if that’s what it took to protect me. Me. The person at fault here. The person responsible for dragging him into this bloodbath.
“You want to be in the middle of this shit, McNealy? Fine. Have it your own fucking way, but do us all a favor and get my sister the hell out of here.” My brother’s finger is pointing out into the black night, aimlessly. Just, away.
“Come on, Heartbreaker,” Sketch comes up close to me, her hand on my arm. “Your brother’s right. For once. We need to go. Now.”
Pain stings my chest. I can’t believe she’d side with him. “Not without Wes.”
“I assumed that much was clear,” she says dryly, bending down to reach for him. I follow her example and hoist him u
p by his other side.
“I can’t let you take the kid,” my brother hisses under his breath.
Lucas steps between us. “You don’t have a choice.” Then he stands guard between Marcus and his men and Sketch and me until we’ve hauled Wes all the way over to my car and stuffed him unceremoniously into my backseat.
When I turn back, I’m too far out of earshot to hear what else is being said. I can’t breathe, waiting and watching while my brother and the guy who’s taking my whole world by storm have it out. Then, at last, Lucas turns away, coming back to us.
His expression is grim. Grim and pissed, but not scared. He never looks scared.
Marcus is back on his way into the warehouse when I search for him. He’s done with us for the time being. Only after everything that just went down, I can’ help but be worried about my brother and the repercussions he’s bound to have to face after letting all of us walk away. Again.
“Start the car,” Lucas growls as soon as he’s close enough.
“What did he say to you? How did you end it?”
“Get in the fucking car, Liv!” This time I do what he says without hesitating. He never talks to me like that. Whatever was said, it’s likely about to make things a lot worse.
No one says much while we’re driving. Wes is slowly but surely recouping, and insists on being dropped off at his girlfriend’s house, which I reluctantly agree to after he swears repeatedly he'll go to the hospital should he suddenly start vomiting blood or have any other symptoms suggesting his insides are damaged and in need of more than just time and an ice pack.
Sketch makes random comments about having left her precious Jeep behind and how heads will roll if it’s not exactly the way she left it come morning. I know she’s just trying to distract herself. It’s how she copes. Denial. She rides that wave of intentional ignorance all the way to her front door, where we sit and watch from the car until she disappears inside safely.
Then it’s just us. Me and Lucas.
“You have to go to the cops.” Considering he’s had half an hour to come up with it, I’d expected a more complex opening line.
