Well, when she put it that way...
"Plus, we have way more druggies and boozers for you to reform here," Janie added.
I felt a smile pull at my lips, lifting up the dark mood that had pulled at me for a day. Hell, it lifted the dark mood that had plagued me since I was seven years old. They were right. I had nothing left. I had to move. I had to move on. And, well, they were right; I didn't know them. But they sat at my sick bed and hatched a ridiculous plan to try to get me what they knew I wanted. I already liked them. Job opportunities would definitely be more abundant in a busier area like Navesink Bank. So yeah, even if things with Johnnie fizzled and burned out, as much as that hurt to even think about, there would be something left for me here. There was nothing left for me anywhere else.
Was it really even a choice?
"Okay," I said, giving them a tentative smile.
I got four smiles from them, open and welcoming.
And I knew right then, for the first time since I was a kid, I knew that I had found a home.
TWENTY-ONE
Shooter
Six days.
Fucking hell.
Work was supposed to help. But, then again, my work didn't exactly take too much concentration. Sitting around looking through a scope waiting for the target to get in range, yeah, it left a man a lot of time to think. The last thing I needed was time to think. But I had about four full days of it, sitting on top of that damn building in the scorching heat. So I thought. About her. Like I had any kind of fuckin' choice of thinking about anything else.
All I could see was her sitting off the side of that hospital bed, her face slashed open, her throat bruised, her eyes full of tears, blood all over her clothes, half of which being hers, half belonging to the son of a bitch I had killed just inches from her. I left her like that: raw, needy. I didn't hold her hand through the stitches. I didn't go to the food court and buy her ice cream for her throat that had to be sore.
I just fucking left.
I wanted to believe it was better that way. I wanted to think it was smart to make her think I was a careless asshole who could do all those things without a second thought. But there were second thoughts, and third, and five-thousandth. I could have stayed with her. I could have taken her back to my apartment to let her recoup. I could have held her through the nightmares I knew she would have, visions of a bullet exploding through Luis' skull flashing through her mind in unguarded moments. I could have helped her through. Then I could have gently nudged her back into her old life. I could have driven her back to Alabama myself.
I could have been a good fucking guy.
Instead, I crushed her.
I left her when she needed me the most.
That was how she was going to remember me.
And maybe that was better for her, for closure purposes, but it was doing nothing but chafing at me.
Then again, I deserved the discomfort. It was selfish of me to get involved with her in the first place. I knew the second I laid eyes on her that she was too good for me. But did I stay away and let her live her life? No. I pushed my way into her life and I forced her to let me in. I made her walls topple. I took her first time. And then I left her in a god damn hospital room in an unfamiliar town with no friends. It didn't take a genius to know that those walls I knocked down, she was sitting around and carefully reconstructing and reinforcing. No one else would get back in. She would never let herself feel that way again.
"Fuck," I growled, slamming my door to my car as I looked up at my apartment building.
Six days.
I wondered how many more days like that I had ahead of me.
If there was any kind of justice in the world, I would never stop having them.
If I hadn't been so focused on my sour mood, I might have seen the horseshoe hung above my door; a horseshoe that did not belong to me. But I didn't see it. I was too focused on just getting home and going through the motions.
Though when I opened the door and was greeted by a, "Hey Johnnie. Welcome home," by a disarmingly upbeat Amelia walking back from the kitchen with a steaming cup of tea in her hands, well, I started noticing things.
First, I noticed her. She was in a pair of white shorts and a slightly roomy deep purple tee. Her feet were bare and her hands were wrapped around a mug that didn't belong to me. It was practically the size of a soup bowl with a floral pattern. Definitely not mine. Her arms weren't wrapped and the cuts from a week ago were healed to little pink marks. Her stitches were out and the cut on her face was still red and angry, but healing. The bruises on her throat were gone. Her long dark hair was pulled up and piled in a messy bun at the top of her head. She walked casually over to my sectional, tucking her legs half under her body, angled to the side, watching the program she left up on the TV like she was completely at home.
At that thought, my eyes drifted away, noticing things. Like the knitted blanket over the back of my couch, the snow globe collection piled on the cabinet below my TV. A pair of her shoes were beside the front door next to a coat rack that definitely wasn't mine and a hanging rack for keys. In the kitchen, there was a teapot on my stove and a collection of glass canisters on the counter with little black labels: sugar, flour, tea.
Confused and not quite ready to say anything, I walked myself toward my bedroom, stopping dead in my doorway, seeing an assortment of throw pillows on the bed and a collection of perfume bottles on top of one of my dressers. I walked to the closet, pulling open the door and finding all my clothes pushed to one side (okay, half of one side) and all of Amelia's clothes hung neatly in their place; her shoes lined up on the floor beside mine. I turned, looking toward the bathroom where a light pink robe was hanging on the back of the door and an assortment of makeup and lotion and face wash was piled on the vanity.
I felt the smile pull at my lips despite my confusion. What the hell was going on?
I turned back and leaned into opening to the living room to see Amelia's face on me. She was trying for casual, but there was a tightness next to her eyes as she watched me.
"Angel, what the fuck?" I asked and it came out almost as a laugh.
"Funny thing," she said, cradling her soup tea cup. "I was sitting in the hospital waiting for my pain medicine to kick in and I got a visit."
She stopped there, waiting for me to ask, so I did. "A visit?"
"Yes. From this badass blond woman named Lo," she paused and I felt my grin stretch at her using the word 'badass'. "And, well, she kind of adopted me."
"Adopted you?" I asked, thinking that sounded exactly like Lo. She loved her fucking strays.
"And then I woke up to a bed surrounded by women and I found out that not only did Lo adopt me, but so did Janie, Alex, and Summer."
"They put you up to this?" I asked, knowing I should be pissed, but feeling like I owed every last one of them the biggest bouquet of flowers a florist could put together.
"Well, yes and no."
"How no?" I asked, moving out of the doorway to sit my ass down on the coffee table right in front of her, feeling for the first time in six days the swirling hollowness in my chest start to subside.
"It was their idea that I stay in Jersey since there are so many more alcoholics and drug addicts here for me to try to fix," she said with a slight eye roll that suggested those were one of the girl's words, not hers. It didn't take much thought to decide it was Janie's words. "But this," she said, sweeping a hand out toward her apartment. "Had nothing to do with any of us."
"Who did it have to do with, then?"
"Oh, this was all Breaker, Cash, Reign, and Wolf."
"You're shitting me," I said, shaking my head.
"Well, no. See... they all realized that they fell in love with Alex, Lo, Summer, and Janie when they were forced to live with one another during their crises so they thought that maybe if I moved in here..."
"That I would fall in love with you if you moved in and staked your claim?" I asked and she looked suddenly horrified, her eyes wi
de, her mouth open in a small O. "Baby, they were a little late."
"A little late?" she repeated, brows drawing together, making those two lines etch between them.
I reached out, taking the mug from her hands and setting it on the floor to the side, then grabbed her hips and dragged her forward until her feet hit the floor, then kept pulling until she was on top of me, straddling my hips. My hand moved upward, cradling the side of her face. "Sweetheart, think I loved you the minute you asked me with tears in your eyes if my Pops really knocked my baby teeth in. And I'm pretty sure I loved you every minute after."
Her eyes pooled again and my thumb moved up to brush one stray tear away as it fell. "But you..."
"Left you beaten and bloody in a hospital room like an asshole?"
"Well... um... yeah..." she said, giving me a weird, wobbly smile. "You know, a little bird... actually... four little, very potty-mouthed birds, told me something..."
I smiled at her description of the girls, my arms going tight around her back. "What'd they tell you?"
"They said as much as their men loved them, they never loved them enough to let them go..."
My heart seized at the hope in her voice, like it had been there all along, like she was trying to convince herself that it was a possibility. "Baby..."
"So, um, they... convinced me to make you see that I... belong here. They said that even if you don't want me, that this, meaning Navasink Bank, is my new home and they're my new friends and..."
"And?"
"And I realized they were right," she said, open, forthcoming, no more guards, no thorns, no trying to keep me away. "This is where I belong. I've been looking my whole life for a place that felt like a home. This feels like home, Johnnie. Here, out there," she said, waving toward the front windows. "I spent three years in Alabama and the only person I connected with was Ben. I've been here a little over a week and I have four women who have forced themselves into my life and I like it. I don't want to push them away. Lo said she's gonna show me how to spar and Summer let me babysit last night. Alex and Janie are building me a computer that will, in their words, 'kick ass'. And it's not just them either. Breaker and Cash and Wolf have been over to check on me, asking me if I need anything, taking turns teaching me about the good and bad areas around here. Paine came over a few nights and watched mindless chick flicks with me and didn't complain once... just so I wouldn't be alone. What you have here is good, Johnnie," she said, her eyes almost pleading, trying to make me see it. I already saw it. I knew I had a good group of people around me. But it felt good to know they pulled her into the fold; they took care of her in my absence. "And I want in," she finished. "So um... I just thought you should know that."
"You done sweetheart?" I asked, and she scrunched up her nose at me.
"Good, 'cause I got a few things to say too."
I paused and, I guess it was for too long. "Are you going to say them or what?"
"You ain't gonna like them, but they need to be said..."
"Is this the part where you tell me you're flattered, but you'd rather go back to your manwhoring ways? Because, really, I just... just tell me now because I don't think my pride can take any more sucker punches, Johnnie."
"This is the part where I tell you to shut it," I said with a smile as my hand shifted from her jaw to cover her mouth, "and listen. You need to understand why I walked away. I know you think you understand what you're getting into, darlin', and in theory it might even sound fun or exciting, but the reality isn't like that. I kill people. I know you know this. I know you've seen it. But that's what I do. It's a part of who I am. It's a small part, angel, and it's a part I don't live in day-to-day, but it's a part and it ain't going anywhere. I'm good at it. It pays well. And, well, some guys deserve to get dead. I've never had it blow back on anyone in my life and I would try like fuck to make sure none of it would touch you, but there are no guarantees honey..."
"Well," she said, giving me a weird smile, "I managed to get the attention of a dangerous heroin dealer all by myself, you know."
"Freak happenstance," I said with a eye roll. "We're talking about your life here."
"Right. My life. While we're on that topic, I don't appreciate you making that decision for me. We should have been having this conversation six days ago. You shouldn't have just walked away without asking me what I was feeling."
"And what are you feeling, darlin'?"
"I'm feeling like I don't like you in pieces, Johnnie. I like this whole thing," she said, waving a hand at me. "I get that it comes with some darkness, but that doesn't mean you're dark. You're the brightest thing I've ever seen in my life. And... I've been without that for six days now and, let me tell you, I don't like it. I want my light back."
"Your light, huh?" I asked, curling my pinkie around hers and pulling it up to my lips to kiss it.
"Oh, it's mine alright," she declared with a chin lift.
"I'm yours, huh?"
"Like it or not," she said with a firm little nod.
Fucking cutest thing I'd ever seen.
"Oh, I like it," I said, pulling her closer and kissing down the side of her neck. "In fact, I love it."
TWENTY-TWO
Amelia
Love.
He said love twice.
I didn't even try to ignore the leaping feeling of my heart at his words.
Lo was right about him.
He had the biggest heart of anyone I had ever seen and, given the size of the hearts his friends all seemed to have, that was really saying something. And he didn't try to hide it. He wasn't scared of the potential his heart had for breaking. He just took it and he handed it to me, no muss, no fuss. Easy. Open. That was Johnnie. He was so easy to love.
And I did. I loved him. It didn't matter that it was new. It didn't matter that I didn't know his opinion on avocados. All that mattered was how much better I felt when he was around. All that mattered was I felt it click.
"Baby... I'm pulling some of my best moves and you're a million miles away," Johnnie said and I looked down at him, feeling guilty, but he was smiling up at me. "Haven't tasted this pussy in too long and I'd like you to be paying attention when I do it," he added and I felt my cheeks heat.
"Sorry I..."
"Tell me," he said, his hands squeezing me.
"Tell you what?"
"You know what," he said, one hand releasing me to move up and boop my nose. "You feel it, you say it, babe. No more hiding. I know your dad walked out on you and he made you think that every man you love will walk away, but you can't let fear make you ration out your love. You feel it, you say it, you give it. So give it to me."
"How do you know I feel it?" I hedged, not quite there, not ready to say it.
He ignored my question and a devilish little smile toyed at his lips. "You know, I'm not above using dirty tactics to get what I want."
I felt my brows draw together. "Dirty tactics?" I asked.
Then the smile spread as his hand moved fast and pushed between my thighs, pressing in, cupping but not giving me what I needed. My breath caught, my hand slapping down onto his chest. "No fair," I accused, lowering my eyes at him.
"Never said I would play fair, honey," he said, his thumb moving up to stroke over my clit, making a groan escape my lips. "In fact, the less fair, the better," he said, his hand moving away, but only for a moment and only because he slipped it under my shorts and into my panties. "Like maybe this..." he said, his finger pushing inside me and turning, stroking over the top wall. "That's pretty unfair of me, right?" he asked, but the sound was muffled because his face was in my neck and his tongue was tracing down the column of it.
"Yeah," I agreed, my sex clenching as he continued his exploration of my G-spot.
I felt him smile against my skin then suddenly I was up, legs clamping into his sides to hold on. But not for long, because then I was down. As in, on my back... on the coffee table. I lost Johnnie's finger and I lost the rest of him too as he moved away to grab my pants
and panties and tear them down my legs. I say 'tear' because something made a violent ripping sound. His hands moved to my knees which I had clamped shut and pressed them downward until I was spread completely for him.
"Fucking love this view, angel," he said, his hands stroking up the soft insides of my thighs as he looked at me. "Know what I like more though?" he asked, his eyes coming to mine, looking heavy lidded in his desire. I shook my head, my words caught in my throat. "No? Maybe I should show you then, huh?" he asked and waited until he got a nod before he slowly lowered down to his knees before me, kissing up one thigh, over the triangle of my sex, then down the other before he finally gave me his mouth.
And then he ate me like he was starving, like it was all he had thought about over the past six days. His tongue lavished my head, his piercing made exquisite little appearances, his finger teased the promise of release, but never allowed it.
"Johnnie please," I cried, hands digging into his hair.
His head raised, giving me a smile as his chin rested on my lower belly. "Tell me." My legs wrapped around him, pulling him to me, his forearms crashing to the table beside my head. My hips bucked upward, seeking him. Finding his hardness, I stroked myself against it, drawing pained moans from both of us. "You play dirty too," he smiled down at me as he raised up on one arm and dug around in his back pocket, bringing out his wallet and tossing it to the side when he found a condom. He made quick work of his pants, protected us, then positioned himself between my legs. His body shifted and I felt him press between my slick folds, my hips rising to meet him.
His eyes were on my face, taking in every nuance.
"Johnnie..."
His eyes blazed and I thought he was going to end the torment. But then he knifed up suddenly, taking me with him, falling back onto the couch with me on top of him. "You're gonna fuck me, angel," he told me, his voice a growl. His hand moved between us, thumb stroking over my clit as he guided himself toward the entrance to my body. Once there, he stilled, his other hand moving to the middle of my lower back and holding there; waiting for me to make a move.
Savages Series Boxed Set Page 45
