Dylan (19 page)

I’m about to ask what the fuck he’s talking
about, but he hangs up and panic settles low in my gut.
What.
The. Fuck.

“Ethan?”

I turn at the sound of Trisha’s sultry,
inquisitive voice behind me, but I am too mind fucked right now to
deal with this shit. “I don’t have time for this, Trisha.”

I don’t wait for her to say anything else as
I run to my car and climb inside.
Sean’s been taken,
is the
only thing running through my head as I speed through Palms toward
the warehouse.

I am going to kill that son of a bitch Roy
Elliot with my bare fucking hands. I have no doubt one of his
cronies is behind this. We took Roy. They took Sean.
Tit for
mother fucking tat.

Gravel flies, and the car skids across the
lot as I finally pull up to the warehouse. I jump out and head
toward the sliding metal doors. I can hear loud voices coming from
inside, and I realize I’m the last one here. All because I couldn’t
get my damn mind off of Trisha.

“What the fuck happened?” My eyes go wide as
I stare into Dylan’s beat to hell face.

The whole left side of his jaw is darkened
with a nasty looking bruise, and there is a cut running in a deep
groove down his bicep. Ronan is stitching it, and Dad looks
murderous with rage. Troy is pacing the floor as if he’s barely
containing his own anger at the moment. Dad is the only one who
responds to my question after several moments of silence.

“Dylan and Sean were driven off the road.
Dylan was tossed around the vehicle a bit, but Roy’s cronies
grabbed Sean. They called a few minutes before you showed up.”
Dad’s shoulders stiffen as a haunted look crosses his face before
he continues. “You’re on your own this time, son.”

This doesn’t surprise me. I had actually
been expecting it. I have been expertly trained in every sort of
hand-to-hand combat known to man. Ardon Quinn wanted a soldier, and
he surpassed expectations in the creation of one. I know Marines
that couldn’t have survived some of the shit Dad made me do. When
it came down to it, I was always their greatest weapon.

“Just tell me where.”

Dad nods as he glances at Dylan who is
downing a bottle of bourbon to kill the pain. “They’ve already made
contact. They wanted to ensure we knew who was behind this.” He
shifts his brown eyes back to me. “They are expecting us to make a
trade. Roy for Sean. We need you to intervene before that trade
ever takes place. Right this second they are torturing the hell out
of Sean. The sooner you get to him the better.”

I start walking toward the exit. “Text me
the address.”

Nobody says anything else as I leave, but I
know Dad heard me, because my phone lights up less than a minute
later. My jaw tightens as I look at the forwarded message. It’s a
picture of Sean.

His arms are chained above his head, his
t-shirt has been removed, and there are long slashes across his
bare chest. His head is hanging so that all I can see is his dark
hair, and the cement blocks in the background. Below the picture is
the words:
Tomorrow at noon,
and an address.

I throw my phone down into the passenger
seat, and drive.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Raven

The
chilliness of my body alerts me to the fact I’m alone before I even
open my eyes. Then I feel a dip in the mattress. I smile as I open
my eyes expecting to see Dylan. It’s not Dylan though. It’s Harper,
and she looks so happy and excited that my smile grows before she’s
even spoken.

“Uncle Wim is aking us to Wisney Erld.” A
grin lights up her face. I let my gaze take in her perfectly styled
ponytail and bright pink sundress.

Trisha must be awake, because Uncle Jim is
helpless in the department of making Harper’s clothes match, and
doing her hair. I sit up. Harper immediately snuggles into my lap.
“Disney World, huh?” She nods into my chest.

Uncle Jim sure is going all out to make up
for the things we missed out on. I just wish that he didn’t feel
the need to spend so extravagantly. We’ve never been spoiled so
much in our lives, and I’m not really sure how to handle it. I’m
beyond grateful, but slightly uncomfortable with all of it.

The only thing that stops me from trying to
stop him is Harper. She deserves every bit of it and more. I want
her to have so many new, happy memories that she never remembers
the first three years of her life. When she thinks about her
childhood, I only want her to see now.

I haven’t gotten up the courage to tell
Harper I’m her mom yet. I just can’t figure out how I’m supposed to
explain that to a three year old.
Hey, I know you thought I was
your sister, but I’m really your mom. You don’t have to call me Mom
if you don’t want to, but I would really like for you to. You know,
now that you know and stuff.

Ugh. That sounds like a pathetic explanation
even in my head.

I glance up as my bedroom door swings open.
Trisha saunters in. Her blonde hair is as flawlessly styled around
her face as ever. The tight, blue baby-doll dress she is wearing
fits her body perfectly, but it looks slightly less innocent than
it’s supposed to in those six-inch killer heels.

“You look a little more rumpled than usual.”
Trisha’s blue eyes roam over me in a questioning way I am not
responding to with Harper in my lap.

At the sound of Trisha’s voice, Harper jumps
up and reaches for her. Trisha picks her up easier than I had
thought she would be able to without toppling over.

“Hey, princess. I see you came to show Mommy
how pretty you look.” My heart freezes at Trisha’s words to
Harper.

I haven’t talked to Trisha about how I
didn’t know the best way to approach this subject with Harper, but
apparently I should have.

My pulse is pounding as Harper glances at
me—brown eyes looking at me quizzically before a grin graces her
face, and she nods. The lightness in my chest with her easy
acceptance of Trisha’s words is indescribable. I realize that a
part of me thought she would reject me. That’s why I couldn’t bring
myself to tell her. It wasn’t because I didn’t know what to say,
even though I didn’t, but because I wouldn’t handle it if she
didn’t accept it.

Trisha’s smile is still lighting up her
face. I realize that this isn’t the first time Trisha has referred
to me as mom to Harper. It’s written all over Trisha’s face as she
looks at me. This is something she has been working with Harper on,
for me.
I’m going to cry.

Trisha frowns when she sees the tears
filling my eyes, and she places Harper on her feet. “Why don’t you
go see what Uncle Jim is up to?”

Harper’s smile is still bright as she runs
out of the room in search of her favorite uncle. As soon as she’s
gone, I let go, tears streaming down my face. I hear the click of
the door, and then the bed dipping as Trisha sits down, pulling me
into her arms.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry. I knew you
were having a tough time with all of this. I was just trying to
help, but I should have talked to you first. I’m so sorry, Raven.
Please, don’t cry.”

“I’m . . . That’s not why . . . I just love
you so much.” I spit the words out through my sobs, and Trisha’s
grip on me tightens.

When I have finally calmed enough to speak
clearly, I clarify my feelings for her. “I have been trying to find
a way to talk to Harper about all of this, but I couldn’t.” I look
at her with a shaky smile on my face. “Then you did, and she let
you call me mom. You have no idea what that means to me.”

“Awe, Raven. You’re going to make me cry.”
As if to prove it Trisha rubs a finger under her eyes to check her
eyeliner. “Okay, enough of this mushy stuff. We are going out.”

“I know. Harper told me it’s Disney World
today.”

Trisha laughs at me in her usually outgoing
way as she stands. I’m glad the heaviness of the morning has
passed. “They are going to Disney World. The two of us are going
out.”

“Out where?” I ask with caution.

It’s way too early for clubs, right? I hate
when Trisha takes me to clubs.

Seeing the apprehension on my face, Trisha
laughs again. “Shopping, lunch, maybe a trip to the salon. Let’s
make it a girl’s day. We can go all out.”

“Sounds great. Just let me get dressed
first.”

At the mention of my attire, Trisha’s gaze
once again takes in my rumpled appearance. I slept better with
Dylan here. There were no nightmares or haunting memories. It was
the best sleep I’ve had in as long as I can remember.

So, why wasn’t he here? Did Trisha or Uncle
Jim see him leaving?

Trisha doesn’t say anything, but she smiles
a secretive grin that makes me think that maybe she did see Dylan
leaving this morning.

“Tell Dylan next time he sleeps over he
should stay for breakfast.” Trisha’s grin widens at the complete
look of shock now displayed on my face. She does know.
Shit.
What will she think of me?

“How did you know he slept over?”

Trisha casually steps closer, bends
slightly, and picks up a piece of lose paper off the nightstand.
“
Raven, sorry I had to skip out. Text me when you wake up,
Angel. I’ll be thinking of you.
Signed
Dylan
.” She reads
aloud, and my chest tightens.

He didn’t just leave without saying
goodbye.

“Get that silly grin off your face, girl.
You have to know this boy is already completely yours if you want
him.” I feel my eyes widen at Trisha’s statement knowing Dylan said
something similar just the other night. “I’ve never seen him
actually with anyone. I’ve talked to enough of his one-night-stands
to know that Dylan Trent doesn’t sleepover, or leave goodbye notes.
He’s sunk.”

Just the mention of Dylan with other women
makes my stomach twist and churn. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s
sunk. What the hell am I supposed to do with that realization?
Fuck
. I have to tell him about Harper.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dylan

The feel
of soft hands caressing my face wakes me up. I peek my eyes open to
see June hovering over me with a mixture of confusion and concern
etched on her face. She’s wearing black scrubs today. None of the
usually fancy designs—just solid black. It’s doing amazing things
for her eyes.

Troy dropped me off here after Ethan left
this morning. It had been here, or my lonely ass apartment. Mom was
sleeping when I got here, but I can’t see her today anyway. I know
my face looks like shit, and if Mom sees it, she will have another
episode.

Still, I had wanted to feel close to her
last night. It is always like that after a particularly rough
night. If something happened to me, what would happen to her? I
know that she would be taken care of physically, but I know how
anxious she gets when she doesn’t get to see me.

I sit up, effectively removing June’s hands
from my skin. I need to see Raven. I haven’t spoken to her since
last night before Sean was taken. I had wanted to introduce her to
everyone tonight, but that’s not going to happen. Today, I just
want to be able to fall asleep with her again and wake up next to
her the way I should have before. I want to kiss her soft lips
again.
Instead,
I’m here watching June study my injuries, and wondering how long I
have before she tries talking me into a quick fuck.

“What happened to your face? I swear, you
get hurt more than anyone I’ve ever met, and I’m a nurse.” June
stands up from her squatting position just to sit snuggly next to
me on the sofa.

She’s left her blonde hair down today, and
it’s curling softly around her narrow chin. I inhale the scent of
something soft and feminine. It begs me to lean in for a taste. I
resist easily. I’m horny as fuck, but all I can think about is
Raven.

“It’s nothing. Just had a little car
accident. I’m fine.”

June splays a hand on her chest on a harsh
inhale. “Oh my God! Did you go to the hospital? You should really
see a doctor, Dylan. You could have injuries you don’t even know
about yet.”

As I stand, I shake my head softly while
shoving my hands into my pockets. “I was looked at.”

My tone says I don’t want to discuss it any
further, but the expression on June’s determined face says she
doesn’t care. She stands too, and her hands instantly land on her
hips.

“Don’t be stupid, Dylan. Did you see a
doctor?”

“I really don’t see how that’s any of your
business, June. You’re my mother’s nurse, not mine.” I lean in a
little closer, meeting her defiance with my own.

I don’t need anyone in my business. I
especially don’t need June digging into my sordid lifestyle. I
assume she already knows what I’m involved in, but if she doesn’t,
I’m not about to enlighten her. I’ve made that mistake before, and
I’ve lost nurses because of it. I may not appreciate all of her
overly aggressive sexual advances, but June is a damn good
nurse.

“That’s right, Dylan. I am your mother’s
nurse.” She pauses as she leans in until our lips are only a breath
apart, and I can feel the soft air push between her lips and land
on my own. “What do you think will happen to your mother if you die
from internal bleeding that you don’t even know you have? You’re
the only thing that makes that woman happy. So, what happens when
you’re gone?”

My heart is pounding. I can feel the fear
that I try to ignore seep in. It’s not that I haven’t thought of
that very scenario. I have, and it terrifies the shit out of
me.

I step forward until I can’t get any closer
without pushing her down. I can feel the rapid rise and fall in her
chest, and the heat of her body as it softens slightly against
me.

“Your job is to worry about my mother. Not
me.” I scan her face, settling on her plump, slightly parted
lips.

June’s tongue slides out to skate over the
juicy softness, and my dick begins to show immediate interest. It’s
been too fucking long, and it would be so easy to lean in the
slightest bit and take what she’s offering—what she has been
begging for.