Up to Me Page 19

  Cash sits up suddenly, rolling forward and sliding me beneath him. He grabs one of my legs behind the knee and pushes it up against my chest. Forcefully, he pushes into me. Once, twice and then I’m exploding.

  Spasms wrack my entire body, bringing with them a cascade of sensation—wave after wave of it—that I’ve never before experienced. I can’t open my eyes. I can’t find my breath. I can’t move. I can only feel as I hear myself saying Cash’s name. Over and over and over again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY- Cash

  Olivia is sprawled out on top of me. I rolled us over shortly after we caught our breath so I wouldn’t crush her. I’m sure, to her, I feel like I weigh a ton. Not so at all with her. If it weren’t for her warmth, I’d almost forget she was there. She’s light as a feather.

  As she has a habit of doing, she’s tracing my tattoo. She sighs.

  “You ever gonna tell me what all this is about?” She sounds contented, satisfied. I can hear it in her voice. She might as well be purring.

  “If you look closely enough, you can see all the separate elements of the story.” I take my finger and trace each part as I explain to her what it all means. “These are the flames that burned up that boat. And my life. These are the wings that flew away with the family I once knew. This is sort of my version of the yin and yang symbol, for me and my lost twin. And this rose is for my mother. May she always rest in peace.”

  “What’s this?” she asks, running her finger over the lettering that winds around my bicep, just below where the flames start. It’s unintelligible now. The bullet grazed part of it.

  “It used to say ‘never forgotten’.”

  “And this wound messed it all up.”

  I put one arm behind my head and look down at her. She drags her liquid eyes up to mine. “It’s fine. And it was worth it.”

  She closes her eyes, like she’s shutting out something painful. “You could’ve been killed,” she says quietly.

  “Hey,” I say, waiting until she opens her eyes to look at me. “Now you know that I mean it when I say I’d take a bullet for you. Olivia, I love you. I’d gladly take a bullet or a knife or an ass-kicking or…whatever to keep you safe.” Her emerald eyes glisten with unshed tears. “That’s not supposed to make you sad or upset.”

  “It doesn’t,” she says on a trembling voice. “It just makes me happy, hearing you say those words.”

  “It does?” I grin.

  She grins in return. “Yeah. Maybe a little.”

  I run my fingers up her side to tickle her and I find that she’s sticky. “As much as I’d love to stay here with you for a few more days, I suppose we’d better get downstairs and let you clean up. You’re a sticky mess.”

  “I wonder why?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but if you really need to know, we could try to recreate several scenarios until we discover the one that caused you to get so…sticky.”

  “Promise?”

  “Hell yeah, I promise!”

  I peck her on the lips and smack her on the ass before I help peel her chest off mine. I do my best to ignore the way her nipples tighten with the stimulation. I feel that telltale twitch between my legs that says some parts of me can’t ignore it. Her next comment, however, effectively crushes any sign of a boner.

  “So what’s the deal with Nash and Marissa?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  “Really? You don’t care about what happens with Nash?”

  I shrug. “It’s not like I wish the guy dead or anything, but he’s not much like the brother I remember.”

  “Maybe you two just need some time to get reacquainted with each other, with the men you’ve become.”

  I shrug again. “Maybe.”

  But I’m not making any promises!

  We get dressed, head back downstairs and make our way back to my apartment. When I open the office door, I’m a little surprised to see Marissa sitting on the sofa.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting on...Nash.” She stumbles over his name, which lets me know without asking that she realizes what’s going on. Well, at least that part of it, not all the other details.

  “He’s not back yet? He was supposed to be right behind me.”

  “I haven’t seen him. Neither has Gavin.”

  Prickles of suspicion raise the hairs at the back of my neck. “I’ll call him and find out where he’s at,” I tell Marissa, pulling out my cell phone. And find out what the hell’s going on.

  I select his number from the recently dialed list and I wait for it to ring on the other end. When it does, I hear a muffled ring coming from the next room. I think for a second it must be one of the burner cells Olivia and I have been using.

  Probably that damn Ginger.

  But then I hear the ring of the line against my ear again followed directly by another muffled ring in the next room. Taking the phone with me, I walk back into my apartment. I hear the ring again and it sounds like it’s coming from the bedroom. I head that direction.

  When I round the corner, I hear the ring tone again. It sounds much clearer. The interior of my bedroom is pitch black since there are no windows to let in even street or moon light. I flick the switch to cut on the overhead light and there, lying unconscious on my bed, is a bloody Nash.

  I hear someone gasp behind me. If I had to guess, I’d say it was Marissa. She seems to be in some sort of altered state, probably shock related.

  But wouldn’t it be a freakin’ miracle if this whole ordeal unbitchified her?

  I turn to see her peeking around me, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide and terrified.

  “Ohmigod! What have they done to him?”

  Much to my surprise, she squeezes past me and rushes to his side. She stands there looking down at him, her head going back and forth as she appraises him from head to toe and back again. But she doesn’t move otherwise. I’m sure, with her upbringing, Marissa has no clue what to do at this very moment. I’m just impressed that she’d even try to be concerned.

  I walk to the head of the bed and look my brother over. His face is busted up pretty bad. He’ll look like a damn rainbow in the morning. A puffy rainbow, that is.

  His knuckles are in bad shape, too. I can’t help but smile that he probably gave somebody one hell of a fight. It’s when I get to his abdomen that I get concerned. His black leather jacket has fallen away from his side and I can see the wetness staining his black t-shirt. I can also see the jagged slash in the material, revealing bloody skin and a slit in his side beneath it.

  “Olivia, take Marissa and go get Gavin. He’s working the bar in your place.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Olivia spring into action. Marissa, however, is still standing beside me, looking like a deer caught in someone’s headlights.

  “Marissa!” I shout sternly. She jumps like I startled her. She turns her confused eyes on me. “Go with Olivia.”

  She nods almost robotically and turns to let Olivia lead her from the room. I notice as she walks away, she keeps looking back at the bed.

  This will push her over the edge for sure. If she’s not already batshit crazy, this ought to take care of it.

  I turn my attention back to Nash. I check his pulse, which is strong. I feel a rush of relief. I didn’t want to alarm the females, but when I first looked at him, I wondered if he was dead. I might not have much fondness for this new Nash, but it would still hurt like a bitch to lose him a second time.

  As easily as I can, I mash on the bones around his eyes and jaw. Nothing feels broken. It’s a good thing Davenports have strong bones.

  I feel around in his hair to see if I can feel any major head wound, thinking that might be why he’s unconscious. I feel a goose-egg sized bump on the back of his head. From what I know of head wounds, though, swelling out is always better than swelling in.

  I make my way down to his side. I peel up his shirt from his stomach and examine what looks like a stab wound. Thankfully it’s just
oozing bright red blood now, which means it probably didn’t knick anything major, like an artery or an organ.

  I push gently on his stomach. It still feels soft and I know that’s a good sign, too. When my fingers get close to his side, he moans and rolls his head.

  “You all right, man?” I ask.

  I hear the others come back right before Gavin appears at my side.

  “Crikey! Someone beat the shit out of ‘im!”

  Nash cracks open an eyelid and glares at Gavin. It’s funny that he can convey so much feeling in that one small gesture. “Kiss my ass,” he mumbles through his swollen, busted lips.

  “What the hell happened?” I ask him.

  “Somebody caught up with me on the bike. I think it’s safe to say you’re gonna need a new one.”

  Shit, shit, shit!

  “Do you know who it was?”

  “Nah. They came up behind me out of nowhere. Wrecked me then beat the fu—” Nash stops himself, cracking his eyelid again and looking at Marissa and Olivia. “Sorry. Beat the shit out of me while I was on the ground. One of those Russian bastards stabbed me and then they went through my pockets, patting me down.”

  “What were they looking for?”

  “My phone, I think. I keep it in my boot so I won’t lose it, though.”

  I hiss through my teeth.

  “What is it?” Olivia asks.

  “I thought we’d be safe now. Or at least safe-er.”

  “You will be. For a while anyway. This was just a warning. We’ve got three days to get them the rest of the copies and they said they’ll call it even. If not, they’re coming after us.”

  “But we could go to the cops with it. It could incriminate them!”

  “I guess that’s not enough to scare them.”

  Part of me had wondered if it would be enough to be effective in keeping them away. Evidently not.

  “Three days, huh?”

  “Three days.”

  “Um, I know whatever you people are involved in is pretty serious stuff, but don’t you think we need to get him to the hospital?” Marissa interjects.

  “No!” Nash cries. “No hospitals. They keep records. And they call authorities.”

  “Well, we can’t just let you lie here and die.”

  “No worries, mate. I know a guy,” Gavin offers.

  “A guy?” Nash asks. “I don’t need to be offed. I just need to be patched up.”

  “Yeah, this guy can do that, too.”

  I say nothing over the “too” part. I’d say most of Gavin’s associates are…shady.

  “I don’t know if he’ll come to a place this…public, though.”

  I think for a second. “Think you can travel?” I ask Nash.

  He tries to hide his cringe. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

  “You can go to the condo. We can have him meet you there.”

  “Why don’t we go to my place? That way, I can keep an eye on him afterward,” Marissa suggests.

  “It’s too dangerous,” Olivia says.

  “Agreed,” Nash adds.

  “I’ll stay, too,” Gavin offers. “He’s not able to defend himself very well in this state. I can stay for a day or two, watch out for them.”

  “No need for that. If whoever these people are have already given him an ultimatum, wouldn’t it be highly unlikely that they’ll attack him again? If they’d wanted to kill him, they could’ve done so already.” Marissa, somehow, is the calm voice of reason. “We’ll be all right there by ourselves.”

  “I thought you’d be staying with your father,” Olivia says.

  “No. I can’t stand to be there. Not with him. I feel like I don’t really know anybody anymore.”

  “Then I’ll come and stay with you,” Olivia says.

  “Absolutely not,” I blurt.

  “Why not? She can’t be alone there with her only protection being someone who’s been stabbed.”

  “You need to stay here with me.”

  “No, I don’t. I’ll be fine. They’ve given us three days. I’m sure they’ll leave us alone until then.”

  “Olivia, I’m not willing to take the risk. End of story.”

  “End of story, huh? So I have no say in the matter?”

  I can see the sparks flying from her eyes. It’s a tense situation and her hackles are up. It’s kind of a turn-on, but now is neither the time nor the place to be thinking stuff like that.

  I force myself to take a deep breath before I respond. “I’m not trying to act like an insensitive dictator, but it’s not a good idea for you to go back there right now.”

  “But it’s all right for Marissa?”

  “More so than you, yes.”

  “More so, but not completely?”

  “Completely? Probably not.”

  “Then it’s settled. I’m going, too.” Olivia turns to Gavin. “Can I ride with you?”

  I love Olivia, but at this very moment, I’d like to strangle her. “No, you can’t. He’ll be staying here and closing up while we take Nash to Marissa’s.”

  Olivia looks at Gavin again and he shrugs, giving her the smile that says he’s staying out of it.

  “Can you have your guy meet us there?”

  “I think so. He owes me.”

  “All right then.” I turn to Nash. “You need help getting to the car?”

  “Nah, I got it.” He says it casually, but I can see the sweat popping out on his forehead as he tries to push himself upright. When he manages to haul himself to his feet, Olivia gets on one side and Marissa on the other and they help him navigate the short distance from the bedroom to the car where it’s parked in the garage. As he’s hobbling past me, I see his lips twitch.

  That bastard’s enjoying this!

  While that might be funny if it was someone else, with him, I’m not laughing. I don’t want him touching Olivia. I don’t want him near her actually. It’s irrational and probably more than a little related to jealousy, but I don’t care. It is what it is. Doesn’t change the way I feel about it.

  I grit my teeth until they have him situated in the back seat. All he lacks is a kiss on the forehead from both of them.

  I feel like cussing.

  Marissa parked in the side alley, so I wait for her to pull out and I follow. No one in the car says a word all the way to the apartment. When we’re parked, both girls scramble to fawn all over Nash again, which makes me feel like rolling my eyes. But I don’t. I’m not that stupid. If caught, it would only make me look like a jerk, which, at this point, I am. At least toward Nash. I know he’s enjoying this. He’s probably enjoying setting my teeth on edge as he leans on Olivia.

  Prick.

  “Keys,” I say to Marissa as I pass her. She hands them over and I walk ahead to unlock the door. I push it open and pause for a second to listen. When I hear nothing, I flip on the light switch to the right and look around. It looks exactly like it did a few nights ago when I came back to get Olivia’s stuff. That’s a good thing.

  I guess I could kick shit out of the way, make it an easier path for Nash to navigate. But then I think of that smug twist of his lips and decide it might serve him right if he falls on his arrogant ass.

  I look back to the door. The three of them are just standing there. “Well?” I prompt.

  I see Nash and Olivia take a step forward. Marissa does not. Olivia looks over at her. “You know you don’t have to do this. You can go back to your dad’s. Or back to Cash’s. No one would blame you if you never wanted to come back here again.”

  I gotta hand it to Olivia. She nailed it. Marissa looks scared shitless. She’s normally pale, but she looks almost dead in the low light.

  Her eyes dart around the entryway and back to Olivia. I hear her take a shaky breath. I’ll admit, if this is an act, Marissa’s good. Damn good. Better than I would’ve given her credit for.

  “No, I need to do this. I can’t live afraid forever. Get back on the horse, right?” she says with a weak smile.

  “I’ll take
Nash. You take your time.”

  Marissa takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “No, I’m okay.”

  Maybe it’s a family thing, that ability to physically convey the idea of picking oneself up by the bootstraps, because Marissa’s doing what I’ve seen Olivia do a few times. She’s picking herself up by her bootstraps. Maybe she’s got enough of Olivia in her to make her a half decent human being after all.

  The three make their way into the apartment. By the time they reach the living room, I think Nash is supporting Marissa more than she’s supporting him.

  “This way,” she says, steering them toward her bedroom. “He can have my room. I’ll take the couch.”

  No one argues, least of all me. This wasn’t my idea. I’m sure as hell not taking the couch. My place is with Olivia. Marissa’s on her own.

  When the girls start taking Nash’s coat and shirt off, I make an excuse to go wait for Gavin’s man. It sounds stupid, but it infuriates me to see her taking another man’s shirt off, even if that other man is my twin brother. In fact, that might make it worse. It’s like she’s doing it to me. Only not.

  I’m pacing in front of the open front door, feeling testy as hell by the time a non-descript dark sedan pulls up at the curb. A short man gets out, casually looks around, slings some sort of bag over his shoulder and walks slowly up the sidewalk. When he reaches me, I’m surprised by his youth.

  “Where’s the hurt one?” he asks flatly. Young or not, this guy is all business.

  “And you are?” He might think I’m stupid, but he’d be mistaken.

  “Delaney. Gavin asked me to come.”

  “You a fly buddy of his?”

  “No. Worked with him in Honduras.”

  I’ve heard Gavin mention that place a couple of times. Apparently he was one of a few…specialists hired for some sort of job there. It went all to hell. Just from what little I’ve heard him say, for mercs it was like being in the trenches during war time. If this guy was with him, I can see how they could’ve become indebted to one another.

  “This way,” I say, taking him back to Marissa’s room.

  We all stand around like curious onlookers as he patches Nash up. He must have a pharmacy and one hellacious emergency kit of some kind in that bag of his. He gives Nash a couple of shots and cleans his wound with some sort of solution he has to pop open in a tube to use. He sticks a needle full of something else (my guess would be Lidocaine or something like that) into Nash’s stab wound then he breaks out some sterile gloves and sutures to stitch him up.