Sweet Vengeance

by Cindy Stark

  His men grumbled as they got to their feet and headed toward the kitchen and out through the tunnel. Jase followed to make sure they didn't mess with Allie. When Leo passed by, Jase slugged him in the arm and then handed his gun to him. "If you ain't going to use it, keep it in your pants."

  Leo grunted a laugh, but from the look on his face, Jase knew he'd follow orders.

  In the kitchen, Allie didn't meet any of their gazes as the men filed through, but she didn't shy away from them, either. Good. She'd need some of that spunk to get her through the next little while.

  All of the men left except for Max. Instead of going out the kitchen door, he closed it and headed for the fridge where he grabbed a beer.

  Jase waited. Max was his right-hand man and could get away with more shit than the other guys. Max twisted the cap off the bottle, tossed it in the garbage and focused on Jase.

  "You might want to reconsider, Jase." Max flicked a quick glance at Allie. Jase watched as her eyes widened. "We could use her. Nobody has to get hurt."

  "You've heard my decision." Jase matched Max's icy blue stare.

  Max took a big swallow of beer and relaxed his stance. "Why don't we let her decide?"

  He didn't glance at Allie, but Jase did. Her green eyes were wide with fear, her body tight with tension as though she were ready to make another run for freedom.

  "No." Jase walked to the kitchen door and opened it. He faced Max with a rigid glare. "That's my final answer. Don't ask again."

  Max downed more beer before placing the half-empty bottle on the counter. He watched Allie with a measured look as he walked past her. She met his stare, holding it until Max reached the door, then he swung his gaze to Jase. "Fine."

  He walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

  Damn it.

  "I'm sorry." Allie got to her feet and started walking toward Jase. "I didn't—"

  He held up a hand, stopping her. "Why don't you go turn on the TV? I'll finish putting these away." He turned toward the counter. He needed some space, some time to cool down. He'd never had his men question him that way. Why now? Why with Allie?

  She didn't answer, but he heard her move. He waited a moment, and then turned, watching her walk away. The sway of her hips snagged his attention as did the length silky dark hair reaching down her back.

  She'd proven to be one hell of a distraction. For him as well as his men.

  * * *

  Allie's blood still raced through her veins at an alarming rate even though the immediate danger had passed. She knew she'd been sent away, but she didn't mind the time to collect herself, either. She walked into the living room and sat stiffly on the soft beige couch where Jase's terrorizing men had been only moments before. She grabbed an ivory-colored pillow and hugged it to her chest, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

  Now that she was alone, the throbbing in her arm became more noticeable though she didn't really feel anything from the cuts on her hands. She tucked her legs beneath her, gathering herself into a ball.

  She felt like she'd just slipped through an executioner's fingers. Jase was the only one who seemed to value her life. Joey had put her in the line of fire. Aunt Rita would be glad she had one less mouth to feed. Even the cops would only want her for what information she could provide them with. And the mob? They wanted her dead.

  Really, at this moment in time, she had no one. No one but a dark-haired stranger who was tough enough to command a room full of dangerous men, and yet gentle enough to hug her when she was scared or hurt.

  She swallowed as her body's fight or flight reflexes went into remission. She'd be okay for now. She was safe here with Jase.

  Needing something normal to do, she took the remote off the table, turned on the TV and began flipping through channels. She couldn't get past the nagging little thoughts she had about Joey. Like, why didn't he warn her he was in danger? Worse yet, why did he drag her into it? How could he have truly loved her and done that?

  She flipped the channel again, stopping when she caught sight of her favorite show. It showcased the dangerous job of crab fishing in the Alaskan seas. The sea captains were rough, tough men, and yet somehow sexy as hell. In a way, they reminded her of Jase.

  "You like this show?"

  Allie jumped, not expecting Jase to have come up behind her. She nodded, not taking her eyes off the TV. She was grateful he'd protected her, but things had turned awkward when he'd asked her to leave the kitchen. His men had forced him to choose between her and them, and although she'd won, she knew it must have cost him something.

  How did she repay something like that?

  "I brought you some Tylenol."

  "Thanks," she said, finally meeting his gaze. The anger she'd seen in them earlier was gone. She gave him a hesitant smile. "For the Tylenol and for protecting me."

  He shrugged. "They need to learn they don't make the decisions."

  Allie found herself focusing on the muscles in his arms as he handed the pills and a glass of water to her. They were lithe and strong as they bunched and relaxed in turn. She took the pills and swallowed them, drowning out the thoughts of how close they'd come to kissing. What had she been thinking? Flirting with a guy like him was flirting with disaster. And what about Joey, the man she'd thought she'd love forever…the man she'd thought would also love her forever? Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe she knew nothing at all about real love.

  She shifted on the couch so she didn't have to crane her neck to see him. "Why do you do this? Why do you want to be part of such an organization?" She couldn't wrap her mind around someone inviting violence into his life.

  "These men help me achieve my goals." He studied her. "It's not what you think."

  "Then what is it?" Because on the surface, his activities didn't seem any different than the other organizations she'd knew about.

  "It's hard to explain."

  "Are you doing illegal things?"

  "We're not dealing drugs or guns like the Trasattis, if that's what you're asking."

  She sighed. He'd evaded her question again. "But it's still illegal."

  He shifted his gaze to the TV as though he was stalling and then looked back to her. "It's complicated."

  "Complicated?"

  "Okay. It skirts on the illegal, but there are no innocent people getting hurt." A tired look dropped over his face. "At least not if I can help it."

  "How did you manage to hook up with your gang of thugs?"

  Jase shrugged as he perched on the arm of the sofa next to her. "I met them here and there over the last few years. Max introduced a few to me. We all have a common thread that brought us together."

  "The Trasatti Family?" Allie tilted her head up farther to see him better. She'd figure this out yet.

  Jase's expression hardened. "They have screwed all of us over in one way or another. We want to see them hang—figuratively, if not literally."

  That was some intense stuff. "How did you get to be the boss?"

  He smiled then. "I've got the money to back us." He stood up and held out a hand. "Enough of this talk. We need to change our bandages. It'll be easier if I do yours and you do mine."

  "We have to do it?" She had no idea how to care for a gunshot wound. "Shouldn't Doc Green take care of that?"

  Jase shook his head. "Nah. He's busy with his practice. I only call him in emergencies. We can manage this."

  Allie swallowed. "I don't think I can."

  "Why?"

  He couldn't possibly be serious. "I'm not trained." Her heart started beating faster. "I mean I wouldn't know where to start. It's not like putting a band-aid on a paper cut."

  He chuckled and helped her from the couch. "I'll tell you everything you need to do."

  Allie followed him up the stairs, trying to keep her pulse calm. Stuff like this made her nervous. She had no idea what to do. What if she did it wrong?

  He left her in the bedroom while he retrieved the supplies. It didn't take him nearly long enough. He laid out a whit
e towel on the bed and busied himself getting the items in order. "I promise, this is no big deal."

  The sharp smell of alcohol assaulted her as he rubbed sanitizing gel on his hands. He tossed the bottle to her. "Clean your hands good with this."

  He cut off long strips of gauze, folded them and laid them on the towel. Next, he opened several gauze pads and placed them beside the strips. Allie watched as he set out a roll of white tape and a tube of ointment before facing her. He kept his eyes trained on her as he gripped the bottom of his black T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

  She tried to keep her focus on his face, but she couldn't resist checking out his well-sculpted chest. Slowly, she looked lower, over his pecs and down each of his defined abs. He must do a million sit-ups to have such amazing abs. She ended at the top of his jeans and rested her gaze there a moment, her thoughts taking an interesting direction. She blinked her gaze back to Jase. He raised a brow, and her cheeks warmed. She'd totally been caught checking him out.

  "I'm not taking off my shirt," she said, trying to hide her embarrassment.

  "Didn't ask you to." His eyes darkened, taking on a dangerous quality that tempted her.

  Tension strung between them like a taut wire, increased tenfold from their interaction in the kitchen. Allie stood and took a step away from the bed, afraid of how she'd react to him if he had asked her to remove her shirt. She was pregnant with Joey's baby, she reminded herself. And Jase was a dangerous man.

  She cleared her throat and looked at the supplies. "What do I need to do?"

  "Maybe we'd better do yours first, and you can watch me." He indicated the bottom of the bed with a jerk of his head. "Come sit here."

  She did as she was asked, trying to ignore how close she was to his bare skin. He knelt before her, taking her left hand in his. On the backside of her hand, he used a small pair of scissors to snip away the layers of gauze and then turned over her hand to examine it.

  Her hand looked small and fragile next to his. He spread her fingers with a roughened thumb, looking for damage. There were a couple of gashes, one with a stitch, but overall she didn't think it looked too bad. He covered the two larger cuts with ointment and rewrapped it before taking her other hand.

  She exhaled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. He glanced at her and then back at his work. He was so close. Close enough she could reach out and run a hand over his spiky hair. What would it be like if she could touch him like she'd been tempted to? What if they weren't in hiding? What if she'd met him instead of Joey, and he wasn't connected to organized crime?

  She inhaled. What would it be like to kiss him?

  He tilted his face toward her, and she exhaled a slow breath. She hoped her expression didn't betray her thoughts. There was no way he could know what she'd been thinking. No way.

  He gave her a smile that said otherwise. "Let's work on that arm now."

  Allie glanced down at her hands, finding nothing but a band-aid on the second one. She'd been so distracted by him she hadn't realized he'd finished. "This one doesn't need to be wrapped?"

  "It looks good. We'll have to leave the one stitch in for a little while, though." He nodded. "You had a rough time last night." He stood and with a gentle touch, he slipped her shirt sleeve up to her shoulder, the act seeming far more intimate than it was. "This might hurt a bit," he said as he lifted the scissors.

  His hands felt strong, capable as he held her arm and began cutting the gauze wrap. Allie watched as his deft fingers removed the wrap, leaving only a gauze pad. She held her breath as he lifted it away, not really feeling any pain. When the air hit her injury, she sucked in a sharp breath. It burned like no other.

  "Sorry," he whispered.

  Halfway between her elbow and shoulder was a raw red wound about three inches long.

  "You lucked out. The bullet only grazed you," he said as he held up her arm and examined it. "But sometimes this type hurts the worst because all the damage is right along the top layers where your nerve endings are."

  She didn't feel so lucky when he poured sterile water on a gauze pad and began cleaning it. "Ah..." She tried to breathe through the intense pain. She focused on his face instead of her wound, observing the stubble on his chin and the way his haircut made each hair on the top of his head spike upward.

  "Almost done." He picked up a fresh pad and covered her wound. He wrapped it with a strip of gauze to hold it in place. "Hold this." She placed a finger over the end of the gauze while he ripped off a piece of paper tape to hold his handiwork in place.

  "Are you done?" she asked, releasing a huge sigh. The pain had lessened now that he wasn't messing with her injury.

  He smiled, looking into her eyes. "All done."

  "Thank you." She smiled in return and stood, vacating the corner of the bed for him. He brushed past her as he took a seat, his bare stomach skimming her forearm. She shivered from the close contact.

  She glanced at the supplies on the bed, suddenly nervous. He might be an old pro at this, but she had no idea what to do. Bandaging a skinned knee, she could handle. But this?

  She followed his lead, taking the small pair of scissors and holding his arm away from his body. The skin beneath her fingers was smooth and in sharp contrast to the hardened muscle that lay beneath. "Here?" she asked, as she slipped the edge of the scissors beneath his bandage.

  "That's good." He watched as she began to cut, but then he tilted his head, bringing his face only inches from her.

  She bit her lip and tried to concentrate on her task. "Please don't look at me while I do this." She glanced at him. His eyes were serious and more than a little unnerving.

  "Why not? You're nice to look at."

  Her heart skipped a beat. "Well, unless you want a cut to go along with your gunshot wound, you'd better watch what I'm doing instead."

  He shifted his gaze back to his arm, and she finished cutting through the gauze strip. She pulled away the bandage and inhaled as her stomach lurched. A rolled, skinny piece of gauze hung out the end of an angry red hole in his skin. The gauze was soaked with blood. She steadied herself, trying to contain the horror she felt. "Oh, God. They really got you." Compared to his, hers looked like a paper cut.

  "Yep. In and out. You were definitely the lucky one."

  "All the way through?" She lifted his arm, spying a second piece of gauze and a similar hole on the backside of his arm.

  He nodded.

  She swallowed her queasiness. He'd taken care of her, and now she needed to do the same. She'd show him she was mature enough to handle whatever came her way. She started to remove the gauze and then stopped. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor to look at this?"

  "Doc Green took care of that last night. After he patched you up, we visited his office. He took an x-ray to check for bone fragments and cleaned it up. All I have to do now is wait for it to heal."

  "That's good, right? I mean, it's good that it passed through instead of getting stuck inside."

  "Yeah, it might have meant surgery if it had become lodged against the bone."

  It didn't seem fair he should be hurt worse than her. She tugged on one of the rolled pads, pulling it from his wound, trying not to gag as she did so. "Don't these pads keep you from healing?" It didn't make sense to stuff something in a hole if you wanted it to seal up.

  "The wound has to heal from the inside out. So each day, you'll stuff it in a little less."

  Each day? She wasn't sure she could do it even one time, let alone for days. "I have to stuff a new one back in? Like just push it in?" She raised her eyebrows in a questioning look, ignoring the churning feeling in her stomach.

  "Get it wet with the sterile water, put some ointment on it and push it in."

  She prepped the gauze and then looked at the disfigured skin that resembled an angry belly-button. Blood drained from her head and settled in her stomach, leaving her woozy. Biting her lip, she rested a hand against his bicep to steady herself and pushed the gauze in with the other. He didn'
t make a sound, but she knew it had to be painful. When she finished, he slowly lifted his arm. The muscles in his jaw worked as he moved his hand and rested it on the back of his head to give her access to the other side of the wound. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

  "Why don't you take one of those pills your doctor left?"

  "Don't need 'em."

  It was obvious to her that he did. Her hands were clammy as she repeated the process on the underneath of his arm. She started to push the fresh rolled gauze into the wound as her stomach gave one final warning.

  "Oh, God." She didn't look at Jase as she dashed from the room, barely making it to the toilet before her lunch exited her body in a violent heave. She stood there for several seconds while her body purged itself. When her stomach finally calmed, she stood, inhaling a fresh gulp of air. She felt much better.

  But the feeling was short-lived when she turned and found Jase standing in the doorway. Could she be more humiliated? "Tell me you didn't see that."

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm okay." Allie went to the sink to rinse her mouth and wash her hands. The reality of their situation slammed her, knocking her harder than Rudy Pannucci's baseball bat had in second grade. "It's just—"

  Jase had taken that bullet for her. She dried her hands and turned to the man who stood behind her. Why? What kind of man did that for a stranger?

  "This is my fault." Tears stung her eyes, making it difficult for her to continue. He'd been shot trying to save her. "You were hit because of me." Why would he do that—put his life at risk for her? Would Joey have done the same? She couldn't say he would have.

  Jase walked forward and grasped her wrist with his good hand, shaking his head. "No, none of this is your fault."

  She sniffed. "You were hurt trying to save me."

  "I did save you, but if we're going to start casting blame, then let's start with Joey who put you there in the first place. Or blame me. Flying bullets are part of my life. Sooner or later one is going to catch up with me. If not yesterday, then maybe tomorrow."

  "No." Allie couldn't stand the thought of another bullet piercing his skin. She put a hand on his cheek. "No. What if the next one kills you?" She shook her head, tears falling, as she tried to stop the flow of her emotions. "No more deaths."