The Unlucky Ones, page 25
“Keep your forehead propped on the car seat; keep your chin down to your chest. It will slow the blood from your neck.” Panic in his voice tangled with the encroaching sirens. “Jesus, Nat’s gonna love blood all over her backseat.”
Doors slammed and I felt the motion of the car, but the hazy world turned into darkness, consciousness seeping from me with every breath.
“Don’t you give up on me, Freckles. Stay awake. I will not lose you. Fight for me, Dev.”
I tried, but his rough, sexy voice rumbled in my ear like a lullaby, compelling me to slip into the blackness.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sunlight trickled through my lashes, and I pressed them together, rejecting the obscene light. The brightness flipped my peaceful oblivion into searing consciousness. A groan clogged my throat but didn’t make it past my lips. Every muscle and bone in my body ached as if I had been through a wringer.
My lids flickered open, the impulse to vomit climbing up each rib. I struggled to swallow, my throat raw and sore, and grasped at a bandage wrapped tightly around my neck. With that, memories of last night rushed into my head. The last thing I remember was passing out in Nat’s car.
I lay on my back. I carefully lifted my head, staring down at soft gray pillows and sheets, a large window to my right.
Not my room.
I blinked until my sight cleared enough to see the view outside the unadorned windows. The street below was familiar. A row of brick buildings, filled with shops and cafes, barrels of flowers dotting down the sidewalk. I saw it almost every day. It was the same view from the saloon but on the second story.
Twisting slowly around, I gripped the bed, vomit burping up my esophagus; the pain in my calf and my neck spinning my head. I’d been stripped of the bloody clothes I had been dressed in, wearing my underwear and a large navy T-shirt which wasn’t mine but smelled similar to the whiskey he drank. It was almost as good as having his arms wrapped around me.
I knew exactly where I was. Everything smelled and looked like Lincoln.
I took in the open-concept loft, which stretched the same length as the bar below. A minimalist kitchen ran against the back wall, alongside doors that were likely an entrance, a closet, and bathroom. The living space took up the middle of the room and held a TV, a driftwood coffee table, and a leather sofa facing out toward the curved windows. The bedroom space stood on the other side of the room, rugs separating every space into its own. He had minimal decorations, but a few cool black-and-white photos hung on the brick walls. He used the pipes to hang things on and wooden boxes to store clothes and books.
So this was where he lived…right above my head the whole time. Easy to get in and out. Now I knew why it seemed like he never left the bar and went home. He was already home. How did I not know this? It was as if he were hiding in plain sight.
The sound of a doorknob had me moving my head around. Lincoln strolled out of the bathroom, steam billowing behind him, a towel wrapped around his waist as he rubbed his head with a smaller one.
Despite my body wracked with pain and on the verge of throwing up, I still gaped at his build, heat scurrying down my veins. He had an incredible physique. I had felt most of it, but never really taken a moment to appreciate the work of art that now stood before me. We were always half dressed and too desperate for each other to take our time and explore.
Both arms and one side of his neck were decorated with tattoos; the rest of him was a canvas waiting to be explored.
Still damp from the shower, his bare chest rippled with water, which trailed down his twelve-plus pack, disappearing along the deep V-lines starting right at the towel. I wanted to rip the towel off and lick every droplet of water off him. Okay, maybe not right this second when I still was debating if I was going to throw up or pass out again, but really, really soon. Perhaps in five minutes.
He tossed the extra towel into a basket and glanced over to me. His eyes widened. “Hey.” He moved to me, holding up his hand when he saw my lips part to respond. “Don’t talk. Don’t strain the skin around your neck.” He sat down on the bed, reaching up and brushing my knotted hair away from the bandage as he softly inspected it. “The cut was superficial, but he still nicked a few nerves. It will take a few weeks to fully heal. Same with your leg.”
I stared at him, his touch ebbing the nausea, but my heart thumped at his nearness, at the musky smell of his damp skin.
“I am so sorry, Dev.” His thumb rubbed my jaw, his face and throat tight as he swallowed. “My brother has always been driven by emotions, not logic, especially when he’s jacked up on something, but I never thought him capable of hurting anyone. Not after the years of abuse we took from our own father.”
Yeah, well, sometimes the precise thing you hate about someone is because you’re so much alike.
“The moment he grabbed you?” Lincoln’s eyes flicked to the far wall. “Nothing else mattered. Not going to jail, the bar, not even my brother. You. That was it. And the idea of losing you?” He let his head fall forward, his elbows on his legs, blowing out deeply.
My fingers brushed his back, sliding over his skin. His head jerked up, but he didn’t look at me.
“Everything important came slamming in, and all the bullshit excuses I used to keep you away or protect my brother vanished. If I could bring my little girl back, I would, in a heartbeat, but I don’t regret you, Dev. Not for a second. Both of you carved into my soul, called it home. Only one couldn’t stay as long as I wanted.” He turned to look at me, his voice even, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you will.”
“Fuck. Yes.” My gravelly voice rolled out like sandpaper, making him burst out laughing.
He leaned forward, gently cupping my head. “I’ll hold you to it…in all ways that sentence could mean.”
I’d be totally okay with it…later. As if on cue, a spasm jerked the muscles in my leg, and a gurgling whine escaped my throat.
“Here.” He reached into a nightstand drawer, pulling out a syringe and bottle. “Swallowing is probably painful, so this will ease your pain. Relax your muscles.”
I pulled back, glaring at the needle.
“It’s not anything bad. The doctor left it to ease your discomfort.”
“Doc-tor?” I grunted.
“Couldn’t take you to a hospital. Not if we wanted to stay off the record and keep up the pretense we were never there.”
Right.
Lincoln tapped his nail on the syringe, getting the air out, then turning toward me, rubbing a sterile pad on my thigh, his touch gentle on my skin, his eyes finding mine. This would have been so sexy and hot if I wasn’t about to roll in a ball and cry. He jabbed the needle in quickly, and I grabbed his shoulder, sucking in through my nose.
“There. Should kick in soon.” He used the end of his towel to dab at the speck of blood the needle left. “Jail does have some perks, giving you connections to people who don’t mind working under the radar. Doc was released four months before I left, wrongfully accused because the color of his skin. He had been a medic in the army. Patched me up more times than I care to remember the first couple of years. I don’t know why he did it. Said he saw something in me. He was the closest I came to anyone. Good man. He was the only one I thought of when I brought you back here. No questions asked, he came.”
We were quiet for a moment, so many issues from the night before stirring in my head. What happened to my uncle? Or James? What was going to happen to Lincoln? Had he spoken to Gavin? Was my sister freaking out? Was the place about to be stormed with police?
“Uncle?” I finally croaked.
“Haven’t heard anything from him, but he wouldn’t contact me. He’d keep all phone records clear of my name. I have no idea what is going on. It’s driving me crazy. I tried to sleep after Doc left, but all I could do was either pace or watch you to make sure you were still breathing.” He rubbed at his face. “I did text your sister from your phone, letting her know you wouldn’t be coming home.” A smirk lit his eyes. “I might have suggested you were staying with me for a couple of days…just can’t get enough.” He winked. “Which is totally true. It just sucks we’re not doing what she thinks we are.”
I smiled. A text like that would make Amelia crazy. But it was better than her staying up all night wondering where I was and calling the cops. I’d deal with her wrath later. I’d do anything for him.
Tilting in, I brushed my lips over his temple. The painkiller swept through me like velvet over skin, stealing away the hurt, and pulling me back toward sleep. We had so much we needed to go over, to talk about. I fought against the pull of the drug.
“Sleep.” His gaze tracked mine, lacing his fingers through a few strands of hair. “You need to heal. We’ll figure everything out, I promise.”
I knew he needed rest as much as I did. Intertwining our fingers, I carefully turned on my side, pulling him in behind me. He didn’t resist, scooting in and spooning against me. The towel rubbed the back of my bare thighs, his warm body luring me into obscurity.
“Sure…my dick pressed against your almost naked ass is totally going to let me sleep,” he muttered in my ear. I smiled, taking his hand and threading it up the T-shirt, where I laid it on my bare breast. Lincoln snorted, kissing the back of my head, leaving his hand there. “Yeah, much better, Freckles. Now go to sleep.”
With his warmth draping over me and the pain floating away, I sighed, feeling safe and happy. All the bad disappeared as sleep embraced me.
I drifted in and out of consciousness, with vague awareness of night and day. Lincoln was either cleaning my wounds or injecting me with painkillers when my whimpers woke me up. The ache running up my leg kept waking me all night. The pulse of agony grew louder until it stirred me from my slumber. Then my neck joined the agony party the instant I was awake. Nausea kept my appetite at bay, though he tried to get some lukewarm broth down my throat. Three spoonfuls felt like eating acid, and I’d roll back over and go back to sleep. I knew it would take more than a day or two to feel better, and if I slept right through it, I’d be fine with that.
When I next awoke, deep purple brushed the sky, turning black at the edges. The night encroaching on the room let me know another day was about to pass. My second here. Amelia had to be pissed by now. Besides my time with Uncle Gavin, I had never stayed away from home this long.
My brain buzzed with all that could have happened while I slept, so I forced my eyes to stay open, lifting my head to the dimly lit, quiet room. The only sounds were the distant buzz of activity in the bar below me.
Lincoln sat by the bed in a chair he pulled over from the living room. His fingers pinched the space between his eyes, his eyes pressed shut. A table next to him was stacked with bandages, cotton swabs, rubbing alcohol, and tape. I took a moment to stare at him. Unfortunately, my nurse was fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but he was still so damn sexy.
“In my nurse fantasy…you’re naked,” my raspy voice cut through the silence. He jerked his head up and sprang out of the chair to me.
“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got shot.” My voice barely rose above a whisper. “And had my throat sliced.”
He sat on the bed next to me, face scrunched with worry.
“I’ll be fine.” I grabbed his hand. “If anything…” I swallowed with a flinch. “You should enjoy I can’t yell at you now.”
A wry grin lifted the side of his mouth. “But I like when you yell at me. It’s fucking hot.” He leaned his forehead against mine, his mouth lightly brushing mine.
A knock on the door lurched us both back. Lincoln jumped to his feet, his chest widening with defense. “No one knows I live here except Doc.” He pressed his finger to his lips as he slunk toward the metal door.
Stabs of pain danced up my leg as I slid out of bed. I leaned heavily on my good leg. I didn’t want to feel vulnerable lying in bed, no matter who was on the other side of the door.
Lincoln pressed his ear against the door, listening, his arm flexing with the tight grip of his hand on the doorknob.
“Open up.” A man’s low voice came through. “It’s me.”
“Un-cle Gav-in?” I croaked, the familiarity of his voice making me want to run to him.
Lincoln didn’t look so sure but unlocked the latch and slid the rolling door open enough to peek out. His shoulders lowered, and he tugged the door all the way open, revealing my uncle on the other side.
He stepped in, then Lincoln rolled it closed behind him.
“How the hell did…?”
Uncle Gavin peered over at Lincoln, still venturing deeper into the loft. “I’m really good at my job.”
Gavin’s head whipped back, finding me, his brown eyes softening. “Devon…” He rushed to me, folding me gently in his arms. “Thank god you’re okay. I’ve been so worried about you.” He squeezed me to him, his voice plump with emotion. “I about lost my mind not being able to see you.”
His hold was so familiar, so comforting, as though I was a little girl again. I dug my head into his chest, which had been a lot easier when I was younger and shorter.
“How are you?” He pulled back, his worry ran over my leg and throat.
“I’m okay,” I tried to reassure him, but my raspy voice made him flinch. “Lincoln is taking really good care of me. I promise.”
Gavin huffed, glowering at Lincoln, but nodded. “I figured he would.”
Lincoln still stood by the door, his arms folded, watching the scene before him unfold with no reaction.
“But he is part of the reason you’re hurt.” Gavin placed his fist on his chest. “My entire world stopped when I saw you fall, but it also made me realize how unbelievably amazing and strong you are. You are so similar to your father. You took a bullet, Devon.”
“I asked you guys to do it,” I rasped. “It was the only way to get me away from James. It really is just a graze. I’ll heal quickly.” But hell, a graze of a bullet was like a paper cut, hurting worse than a deeper wound.
“He’s certainly the reason you’re in this mess.” Uncle Gavin sat back to take in both Lincoln and me.
Lincoln didn’t react, his attention shifting to me. “Sit down, Devon.”
I realized my body was shaking with lack of energy, the little movements clenching all my muscles.
Uncle Gavin leaped into action, helping me back to the bed. I hated being weak, but I also had to give my body a break. It had gone through a traumatic experience and needed time to heal. Once I was settled, Gavin straightened up, and the air in the room seemed to grow thick and still.
“It’s been a hectic forty-eight hours, and I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.” Gavin shoved his hands into his jeans, and his head snapped to the windows. “Being out of my jurisdiction took a lot more explanation and paperwork… Do you have curtains?” He motioned to the three huge arched windows across the room.
“They have a special coating on them…they look dark from the outside. No one can see in.” Lincoln kept to his spot at the door. On guard. It was probably why I never considered anyone lived up here. It always looked dark and unused from the outside.
Gavin snorted, wagging his head. “Conduct of a true criminal.”
I sighed, giving my uncle a look. He shifted his eyes and feet but looked unremorseful.
“My brother?” Lincoln’s voice sliced in.
“He’s in jail for attempted robbery and resisting arrest.” Gavin stared straight at Lincoln. “Also, the hospital robbery case is being reopened as a possible link to him. It’s the reason I was there the night he was caught. I was following him after a random sighting while in town for my sister-in-law’s funeral.”
Lincoln dropped his gaze. No one else would see it, but I noticed the slight change in him. No matter how much James/William deserved it, he was still his brother. It wasn’t natural for people like Lincoln and me not to protect our siblings, even if it meant putting ourselves on the chopping block.
“As far as anyone knows, he was alone, high on coke and marijuana, and foolishly thinking he could rob a gold and silver store on his own.” Uncle Gavin pulled his palms from his pockets, tugging on the bottom of his well-worn black leather jacket. My dad gave it to him the day he graduated from the police academy. “Being a captain helps, but I still have a lot to explain to the people above me. It’s not something I’m proud of, but because of my rank and untarnished history, they tend to ask me few questions.”
I felt a moment of guilt because my uncle, who always followed every rule by the book, was lying his ass off to his own people. “Thank you,” I whispered to him, pressing my hand to my chest.
He frowned and shifted around uncomfortably. “I always saw myself a certain way. I thought I knew how I would react in every situation…but when I saw a knife pressed to your throat?” Gavin took a step to me and stopped, staring at the ground. “I stopped breathing. Thinking. All the years of training went out the window, and in that second, when he sliced the blade into your neck, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to save you. No law I wouldn’t break, no person I wouldn’t kill, to protect my family.”
The lump expanded in my throat, pressing against the bandages holding me together.
“You, Amelia, Mia… You are my family. And until that moment, I didn’t realize the lengths I would go too to protect all of you.”
Silence descended in the moment and my uncle quickly shook himself, as though it was as much emotion as he could stand, and lifted his chin to Lincoln. “I’m figuring you’re smarter than this, but I will warn you again: do not attempt to visit or contact your brother. Cut all ties to him.”
“Or?” Lincoln’s head tipped to the side.
“As far as the station is concerned, Finn Montgomery is long gone, maybe in Mexico, and there is a recent rumor he might have gotten killed on a bad drug run there.”
