Retreat (Getaway #1)

by Jay Crownover

  There in black and white were the words:

  -Send her home. I don’t want her here.

  I couldn’t stop the protective growl that escaped me. Sutton had saved her, but just as quickly, I knew he had destroyed her. I knew he was grumpy and sullen, but I had no clue he could be cruel, especially so close to death.

  “How could he tell her that?” I mean, he had been unconscious the last few days so there was no way he could know that she hadn’t left his side, but he had to know that she was going to want to tell him thank you for taking a bullet for her.

  Cy put his arm across my shoulder and pulled me in tight for a hug. “Right now, I’m just happy that he’s awake and can communicate at all. I promise to kick his ass later for being an ass to your girl. But for right now, let’s be happy he’s working toward being okay.”

  I gritted my teeth together and fought reminding him right now was all we had, and right now, his brother had gone from hero to villain in the span of a second. Em was already sinking and Sutton’s dismissal had added extra weight to the load she was already carrying. I wasn’t going to let her go down any deeper. That wasn’t happening on my watch.

  No Such Luck

  After Sutton sent Emrys away so callously, and she was no longer visible in the hallway, he settled down and the doctors stopped swarming around him. He drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few hours, but his heart rate stabilized, and they planned to take him in for surgery first thing in the morning. I was going back to check on Em when she surprised me by meeting me outside of her room dressed in street clothes, her hair brushed and pulled back in a braid.

  Her eyes still looked empty and listless, but there was a determined tilt to her chin that was familiar and a welcome sight. “I want to go home, Leo.”

  I nodded at her and gulped as I looked over my shoulder to where Cy and Lane were still huddled together outside of Sutton’s room. “Okay, Em. We’ll go home.” The words wrenched out of me, because as much as I wanted to help her any way I could, going home meant leaving Cy. “You have to give me until tomorrow. There is no way we can fly out of here tonight, but if you give me some time, I promise I will have you in your own bed by tomorrow night.”

  She gave a little nod and her dark eyebrows twitched upwards. “You’re coming with me, right?”

  I swallowed again and squeezed my eyes shut. My heart hurt. “Yeah, Em, I’m going with you. I’ll be right next to you, for as long as you need me.”

  “Thanks, Leo.”

  I didn’t really think I had a choice in the matter, even though it felt like my soul was being ripped in two. “Let me talk to the boys. They have rooms at a hotel close by. We can crash tonight and I’ll work something out. I still have to talk to the DEA and make a statement as well.” It was going to be a long night and that didn’t include figuring out a way to say goodbye to Cy. My head ached thinking about all of it, and the inside of my chest burned knowing this might be the last time I laid eyes on the not quite cowboys.

  I made my way over to the brothers, and without me having to say a word, Cy stiffened and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

  I bit down on my lip and nodded slowly. “Em wants to go home, Cy. I have to take her.”

  His heavy eyebrows snapped down over his eyes and the storm rolled deep and dark in the gray depths. “I’ll give you the key card to my room.” His chest rose and fell, but it was like a black cloud had moved into the hallway with us and was waiting to drop a torrent of freezing rain on all the heat and warmth that moved between us. “You better find a way to come tell me goodbye, Leo.”

  My teeth dug into my lip so hard that I tasted blood. I hurt everywhere. “I will.” The words were broken and ugly because I didn’t want to have to tell him goodbye, even though I knew that was what was waiting for us all along. “I have to get Em settled, book flights home, and talk to Wyatt and Grady still. I’ll come find you, Cy. I won’t disappear on you, I promise.”

  The assurances didn’t make either one of us feel better and I could feel his eyes bore into me as he watched me walk away from him.

  The hotel was literally right next to the hospital, so hustling Em into Cy’s room took no time at all. Tracking down a reliable Wi-Fi signal so I could search for flights took a little bit longer, and so did dragging myself out of the room that smelled like Cy and had his things in it. Jeans tossed across the end of the bed, a shirt thrown carelessly next to the sink, and not surprisingly, a plethora of dude stuff for his hair that Lane must have brought in with him when he came from the ranch. It made me smile that the man would worry about his hair but couldn’t give two shits about his cell phone. I wanted to linger. I wanted to take in everything that was him and pretend like I would still be able to smell him and feel him in the air around me once I was home. It was a lie that I couldn’t even slightly sell myself, so I grabbed his discarded T-shirt, the Jack Daniel’s one from our first meeting, and buried my nose in it. I hoped it wasn’t his favorite because I was taking it with me when I left in the morning, and nothing was going to stop me from stealing a tangible memory of the man who had forced me to be the woman I was always supposed to be.

  Em was resting, or at least she had her eyes closed and was lying still as stone after I told her our first flight out was at ten in the morning. We had to fly from Billings to Denver and then sit at DIA for a couple of hours before our connection left from there. She nodded at me, but I wasn’t sure the words were sinking in. She looked bad before Sutton sent her away, now she looked hollowed out and drained. It was hard to find any kind of life in her, even if her defiance and hurt was right at the forefront of the emotional wall she was building to protect herself. Once I was sure she was settled, well when I was sure she was still breathing and not drowning in her own tears and suffocating on silent sobs, I found the room number that Cy mentioned the DEA guys were in and knocked on the door.

  Wyatt answered, dressed down in just his button up shirt, minus his blazer, and he’d switched his slacks for a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee. He looked so much like Webb, I did a double take until I saw Grady sitting at the little desk in the room swearing at his laptop. The Wi-Fi really did suck.

  Wyatt ushered me in the room, turned on a tiny little device that he said would record the interview, and then launched into a million questions. I didn’t realize how tired and how stretched thin my nerves were until I had to recount every single crazy experience I’d been through since landing in Wyoming. I wanted to cry. I wanted to fall onto one of the beds, bury my face into a comforter, and scream until my lungs burst. I wanted to throw the remote against the wall and watch it shatter. I wanted to grab Wyatt by his shoulders and shake him while telling him there weren’t enough words in the dictionary to properly describe everything I had lost, and even more, what I had gained over the last week or so.

  All I did was curl my hands into fists so tight that my fingernails cut into my palms deep enough to draw blood and carefully, thoughtfully go over every single minute of the last week. I spoke slowly and precise, making sure I hit every detail, captured every moment of fear and panic that had overtaken me once I realized we were under attack. Both men listened with a sympathetic ear and watched me with eyes that were kind, but still sharp and trained to pick up on anything I may have exaggerated or left out. It was intense and when I was done, my legs felt like Jell-O as I climbed to my feet to head back to Cy’s room. Wyatt offered to walk with me but I brushed him off, needing the short commute to pull my defenses back up so that I could be strong for Em. Telling them how I found her up in the tree, cut up and torn, telling them how all she said was that they hurt her, it caused a lump in my throat I couldn’t swallow around. Wyatt mentioned they still needed to talk to her and that she was probably going to get pulled into the case as a witness, but he assured me that both he and Grady understood she wasn’t ready for the pressure any of that would put on her. Frankly, I wasn’t sure when she would be able to
stand back on her own two feet and fight, but I didn’t share that with him.

  I paused at the door to collect myself and to pull my features into a mask that I hoped was one conveying confidence and assurance, just in case Em was up. Even if she wasn’t, I felt like I needed to fool someone into believing I had my shit together.

  The lights were out, but with the door open behind me I could clearly see that the bed was empty and missing the lump that was my best friend. I had a moment of panic before remembering she might simply be in the bathroom. The light was shining through the crack at the bottom of the door and I could hear someone moving around inside the small space. I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck and walked toward the door.

  “Em, the nurse said you shouldn’t get those dressings on your stitches wet. I told you I would help you clean up if you wanted to take a shower.” The process wasn’t easy considering the amount of skin on her that was currently being held together by staples and string.

  I didn’t get a response, so I lifted my hand and knocked on the door while calling her name louder. The wood swung open under my hand and I blinked stupidly at the sight that greeted me. My brain shut down and my heart took over as Cy turned around from where he was wrapping a towel around his lean waist, water cascading enticingly over the muscles that cut across his upper back. His hair was blacker than black with water as he flicked it out of his eyes and looked me up and down. He ran a hand over his obviously tired face, but his lips kicked up in one of his rare grins and I felt it like a punch right in the center of my chest.

  Tired and scared for his brother, worn out and battered from our week through hell and back . . . and yet . . . he still smiled for me and at me. It was the single most precious gift I had ever been given and I would treasure it forever.

  “Sutton is down for the night. They gave him a sedative to keep him still, so he doesn’t inadvertently shift that bullet fragment. He’s not moving, so the doc kicked me and Lane out and told us to rest up. Waiting seems like it should be easy but he assured us it’s not, and even though he’s awake, Sutton’s still on borrowed time.” He took a step closer to me and I reached out a hand so that it was resting on the center of his wide chest. He felt so warm, so vital and alive. I had no idea how I was supposed to walk away from it and be okay.

  “Where’s Em?” I gasped as he put a hand over mine and slowly started to move toward me. His actions made me step out of the bathroom. His bare feet pushed mine all the way across the room until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress in the center of the room.

  “I showed up and told her I just needed to grab my shit, so I could move rooms. She had a little fit I wasn’t still at the hospital with Sutton and asked me who was going to sit with him tonight while we wait for his surgery. I told her the staff banned us from the room for the night, and before I could stop her she was out the door and on her way next door. I caught up with her and walked her to the ICU.” He shook his head and moved his hands so that he was holding onto either side of my face. He tilted my head back and lowered his head until our lips barely touched. “The nurses didn’t even try and talk her out of going in the room. She settled herself in the chair next to his bed and told me she would be back here in the morning before he woke up. I figured I would come back here, clean up and wait for you to show, so we could have a proper goodbye.” His words kissed my lips and wrapped around me. “I don’t know what Sutton was thinking, sending a girl like that away, but something tells me when he gets better he’s going to regret it more than he regrets any of the other shit choices he’s made about women.”

  I sighed and it made him shiver. I let my hands dance over the rock hard expanse of his chest, collecting hidden water droplets along the way. I was headed for that ineffective knot holding the too thin towel closed at his waist and he knew it. His abs tightened under the tips of my fingers and his thighs flexed against mine. Not to mention, the material of the towel did nothing to hide the way that heavy erection between his legs jumped and rose more fully to attention the lower my touch traveled.

  “Your brother is a hero, you all are. She’s not going to let the fact he saved her life go, no matter how hard he pushes. Right now she’s bleeding from too many places to realize he is too.” I hooked a finger around the knot and gave it a little tug. That was all it took for the fabric to fall and for all that glorious, straining manhood to be on display. The sight made me suck a breath in and it made my mouth water. Even in the dim light, he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. It made me feel powerful, special by being the one he was standing before, stripped and sure. The man was hard to read on a good day, but in the dark with our end hovering over both of us, there was no missing the importance of this moment.

  I lifted up enough to give him a real kiss and worked my eager fingers around the hardened flesh that was pulsing against my stomach. His cock throbbed in my grasp and his hips involuntarily kicked toward mine as our tongues tangled and our teeth tried to devour. We were going at each other like the other person was our last meal and our time on death row was coming to an end. It was messy. It was voracious. It was wet and wild. It was going to bruise and hurt when it was over, but that meant it was a kiss I got to take with me when I got on the plane tomorrow. It was a kiss I got to keep and I wanted him to have one that left him with the same. My lips tingled and fire seared up my spine as his hands pulled me closer and dug into my skin. His knee shoved between my legs and pushed his hips and his thick erection into the cradle of my hips. I circled the slick tip with my thumb and felt him growl in response against my aching lips. My mouth was under attack but it felt like love, not war. It was a battle that wouldn’t have a victor because we both won as we took everything the other offered, and I knew we were both going to lose as soon as the sun came up in the morning and we had to officially say goodbye.

  “Always so hot and so bright, Sunshine. You burn in the best ways.” I gulped a little and pushed him back a step, so I could sit on the edge of the bed in front of him. His cock jumped in anticipation and pearly liquid beaded up at the tip. I used the pad of my thumb to swirl it around and squeezed the shaft as I rolled my thumb to trace the sensitive lines running underneath the plump head.

  I thought he was the one who blazed and burned. I thought he was the one who ignited everything that had long been dormant inside of me. He was the spark, but I was the flame. I was the one who tore all the longing and feelings of inadequacy down and built something better up in their place. I was the one who realized that just because the wrong people didn’t love you, didn’t mean you had to be afraid of the right ones loving you, and then some.

  I bent forward, lowered my head, and dropped a kiss in the center of his chest. It made his hands flex on my skin and his breath hitch. I circled a hand around his hip and let my fingers sink into the granite-like globes of his backside. The muscle there twitched against my fingers as I traced each defined ab along the front of his abdomen with the tip of my tongue. His stomach didn’t have an ounce of give to it and the light dusting of dark hair that darted under his belly button toward the base of his erection tickled the tip of my nose as I worked my way steadily lower. I dipped my tongue into the concave circle of his belly button and was rewarded for the teasing taste with my name barked out harshly through clenched teeth.

  I started to slide my hand slowly up and down the shaft that was pulsing impatiently against my palm and swooped my head down, so that I could engulf the engorged head in the wet heat of my waiting mouth. I whimpered at the way his heat immediately flooded into me. He filled my senses up and left an imprint on every part of me that was touching him. I swore my tongue would never forget that first taste, that first swipe that had him swearing and bucking into me.

  One of his hands landed on the top of my head and slowly started to thread through my hair. He pulled me closer and I had to breathe out slow and steady as he pushed himself deeper into my sucking and swirling mouth. Cy wasn’t the type to take things slow and stead
y, so he burned across my lips and pulsed in my mouth as he started to thrust lightly against my face all while telling me, “Just a little bit more” and “Leo, you fucking own me.”

  There was something about the coiled desire in his voice and the taut tension that had his muscles locked from head to toe that made me desperate to give him what he wanted. I sucked him in deeper. I squeezed him harder. I felt him grunt and groan as his leaking tip touched the back of my throat. I had to close my eyes and concentrate on keeping a steady rhythm and on moving my fist up and down in time with my rapidly moving lips and tongue. The sight of his neck muscles bulging and his veins popping as he wrapped himself in the pleasure that I offered was enough to make my heart race and my blood boil. I could feel moisture pooling between my legs, and every time I moved my head over him and my nipples brushed against the fabric of my bra, I wanted to moan loudly and wantonly. Getting him off was the biggest turn on I’d ever experienced because it made me feel like I did indeed own him.

  I was the one putting that look on his face.

  I was the one making him say dirty, dirty things, as he struggled for control.

  I was the one lapping up the desire and want that dripped out of him, tangy and salty on my tongue.

  I was the one he was both harsh and gentle for.

  I was the one who got all his soft and all of his hard.

  I was the one who was going to swallow him whole and then go back for seconds, because this was going to be our best goodbye and I wanted the memories we were making on the way to being over, to be some of the best ones either of us could have.

  I was working him with everything I had. Hands, lips, teeth, tongue. I was breathing just as hard as he was, and could tell by the way his spine stiffened, and the way his thrusts turned erratic and wild, that he was close. It was more than I ever took from any man I was intimate with, but for him I wanted it all and then I wanted him to give me more.