Cruz strokes my hair softly, so tenderly, that I melt into him further. He has this way of taking away all my fears even though I should still be scared of him. “It’s not your fault. We could pin the blame on any of us, but we both know that’s not going to help. Things got out of hand. And who knew the serpents would know exactly where to look for us?” He pulls back a little to look me over, his stormy eyes running over every inch of my face. “That’s a nasty bump on the head, darlin’.” He brushes his fingers lightly over my forehead where it hurts the most, and I can’t help but flinch away.
I glance back to where we went down, wondering what I hit my head on and why it stings like a motherfucker. There’s a large can of paint on the floor quite close by, that has to have been it.
“He’s losing a lot of blood. I’ve got to get him into the clinic so I can remove the bullet, stitch him up, and give him some blood. Can you two help me move him?” Ricky calls back to the boys.
Cruz helps me to sit down on the ground, leaning against the wall, while the three of them pick up Jagger and move him into the open elevator.
Everything down here is a blur. My head hurts so badly I can’t concentrate on what they’re doing. My hands are a mass of red; my stomach rolls again. I just have to pray he’s going to be okay. My eyes close as my head spins, my skin feeling coldsuddenly like someone just turned on the air-conditioning to freezing. My teeth chatter so loudly it’s all I can hear.
“You okay, little darlin’?” comes Cruz’s concerned voice as he returns to me.
I force my eyes to squint open, finding Cruz standing in front of me with his hand held out for me to take. But this time there’s two of him. “I don’t feel so good, Cruz.” My words tumble out.
I let him pull me up to standing, knowing I can’t stay here even though all I want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep till the thumping subsides. He brushes my hair back a little farther off my forehead, and I see the fear register in his eyes. “Doc, think you’re going to need backup. Don’t think my baby’s head is supposed to look like this.”
Through blurry eyes, I see Ricky’s reaction from his place in the elevator with Asher and Jagger as he momentarily glances toward us. “Get her down to the clinic. I’ll call in a favor,” he calls, the panic in his voice sending a shiver over my already freezing-cold skin.
Asher looks at me, the color in his face fading. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” I whisper, but Cruz’s face blurs as I sway on my feet. His scent wafts all around me, an overwhelming combination of cigarettes, leather, and Cruz. I smile to myself, hoping to God I’m safe with him.
“Shit!” he curses out as I feel his strong arms collecting me up like a baby before I can go down. Yeah, I’m sure I’m safe with him. He carries me to the elevator with the others, cradling me close to his chest. “You’re okay, darlin’, Cruz has you.”
My body is limp in his arms, but I fight the urge to go to sleep. I want to know that Jagger is okay. I try to squint my eyes open, but the light is too bright for me to handle. Sounds whoosh past me. Words I recognize but don’t make any sense.Flower, little princess, darlin’, we kept you because we wanted to, we’re protecting you because we decided to. Did you really think Cruzor Ash would let you go once they decided you were theirs?It’s all a jumbled blur, scenes of the past few weeks flashing through my brain, playing out like a movie, one I can’t make any sense of. All I know is what I feel when I’m with them. Until today, when my brother put doubt in my head, I only ever felt seen and safe and alive.
I shouldn’t have run from them. This never would have happened.
Again, I’m being carried and placed in a warm cocoon, soft fabric brushing at my bare legs as it’s tucked in all around me. Then the start of an engine.
“I’ve got you, little darlin’. You’re safe with me.” Cruz’s words are soft and kind and everything I need to hear right now. He’s so different from the man I witnessed killing that man earlier today. I still don’t know how he can be the same person. How can I feel safe with him after the violence I witnessed, but he’s different with me, and I know without a doubt I am.
My brain can’t handle the tennis match anymore. The pulsing from the side of my head is too overwhelming, and everything goes black.
Chapter 2
Fighter
Jaggercarriesmethroughthe apartment and throws me down on my bed with the wickedest smirk on his lips. Cruz is already in bed, and his powerful arms wrap around me from behind as he pulls me in close, kissing my hair. Ash grins at me, all dimples, his bare chest glistening as if he’s just gotten out of the shower. He stands in the doorway of my bathroom andlooks good enough to eat. I beckon him closer, and he doesn’t waste a second dropping his towel as he joins us in bed.
Jagger watches, assessing the three of us together as the boys take turns in placing delicate kisses down my neck and shoulders.
Asher claims my mouth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding my already soaked panties.
Mmm, I groan and then roll over to reach for Jagger to come join us.
Oh, dear God, that kills. A dull throb pulses through the side of my face, breaking me out of my dream. If you can even call it that. That was a wicked fantasy I shouldn’t be having about three brothers. All of them together. Man, it was hot. I almost wish I could go back there and finish it, especially now that my head hurts so damn much.
“What are you doing here?” Jagger’s angry voice drifts to me. Is he talking to me?
I wince, forcing my eyes open to see him, wondering what I’ve done now to annoy him so much. It’s then I realize I don’t even know where the hell I am. I make out a blurry shape not too far from me, dark and imposing. I think it’s him, but there’s another person as well, much smaller, maybe a female. The room is bright and sterile-looking, with fluorescent lights and white walls. His face carries a scowl, but that’s nothing unusual for him. The second person is a woman in a navy pantsuit. That’s all my eyes can handle. I shut them back up tight, pain throbbing through my head, that starts behind my eyes and moves all the way down the side of my face and into my neck.
“I came to check on you after your sister said you’d been shot. Wouldn’t have bothered if I knew the reception I would get,” she says, sounding bitchy as hell.
I wish I could open my eyes to see who she is, but they’re too tired. I’m so weak and out of it. The last thing I remember wasCruz holding me close and Ricky trying to save Jagger. Then I have nothing.
“Come on, Olivia, we both know you don’t give a shit whether I live or die. If you’re here, it’s because you want something from me,” Jagger growls out, most definitely alive. That thought gives me a little more strength.
“Did our time together really mean that little to you?” the woman hisses back, and I know exactly who she is. His cop “friend,” the one he used to help Sloane.
