Protecting Justice (The Justice Series Book 4) (23 page)

To hide.

Finally, she broke eye contact and closed her eyes. “Is he dead?”

Not yet.
Tony flinched. “No. Jesus, no.”

Syd’s hands fell away from Fallyn’s back and hung at her sides, her body slumping into Fallyn as relief plowed through her. Fallyn held her tight, stroked the hair on the back of her head.

After a few seconds, Syd opened her eyes, backed away from Fallyn, and brought her chin up. “I took a cab over. I was afraid…”

She paused, shook her head.

“It’s okay,” Fallyn said. “That was smart.”

Sure was. No explanation necessary. Not for Tony anyway. Syd didn’t want to chance being behind the wheel in case the call shattering her life came in.

“How—” She cleared her throat, lifted her chin a little higher. “How is he?”

“There’s no update since I called you. He’s in surgery. He was in and out of consciousness once they got him here.”

“Did he say anything?”

Tony shook his head. “Nothing that made sense. A lot of mumbling.”

“What happened?”

Fallyn took that one, methodically giving Syd the edited version of the accident and how Tony
saved
them. Saved them. Fuck that.

A nurse who looked like she’d slept sometime last week approached and nodded at Syd, then Tony and Fallyn.

“Are you the family of Justice Greystone?” she asked.

And, oh shit. Tony’s stomach dropped. Everything dropped. All of it, gone. Shit, shit, shit.

He’s dead.

Syd raised her hand. “I’m his fiancé. I’ve called his father. He should be here soon. How is he?”

And, shit, shit, shit. Syd wasn’t family. Not yet. And if anything went sideways and decisions had to be made, there was all kinds of red tape that had to be dealt with. Did Grey have a living will? Instructions for what should be done if he were to become impaired?

Jesus.

Tony swallowed, jammed his hands in his pockets again because—just…
fuck
.

“He’s still in surgery,” the nurse said. “There are some consent forms we’d like to have signed. And then, if you’d like, you can wait in the OR waiting room and we’ll keep you updated.”

The nurse broke free of them, moved on to the desk where another nurse handed her a clipboard.

“Syd,” Tony finally said, “I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes flashed, but it wasn’t…anger. Wasn’t the rage he’d expect from a woman blaming him for her future husband’s life-threatening injuries.

She stepped closer, poked him in the chest. “You listen to me, Tony Gerard. This isn’t your fault. Grey is a pain in the ass. He does what he wants. And if he didn’t want to help Fallyn, he wouldn’t have. My man wants to be a hero as much as the rest of you Justice Team maniacs. I swear, I don’t know what makes you people tick, but whatever went on in that car, he knew what he was doing. So don’t you think you’ll steal his thunder and take the blame because when he wakes up, he’ll have a great story to tell.”

“Amen,” Fallyn said.

That
wasn’t helping. Tony shot her a look and she flipped him the bird. Right there in the corridor while their friend fought for his life. What the hell?

“Syd’s right,” Fallyn said. “I was in that car with him and he was a rock star. He’s like us, Tony,” she grabbed his hand. “He’d rather run into the fray than away from it.”

“Ain’t it the truth,” Syd said. “If he survives, I’ll kill him myself.”

These people are nuts.

Syd shifted to her tiptoes, looped her arms around Tony and rested her forehead on his shoulder.

And, ah, dammit. One of the compartments in his brain, the one where he stored all that emotional shit he didn’t let anyone see, busted open. He held his breath until his chest tightened, all that good healthy oxygen trapped there.
What the hell? What do I do?

First his father, then the judge, and now this. And him, a guy who’d never figured out how to process grief. For him, it was easier to pack that shit away and ignore it.

He raised his hands, dropped them. Hell with it. He exhaled—hard—squeezed his eyes shut in case he did any pansy-assed crying and held onto Syd. Pussy that he was, he needed it as much as she did.

“Please,” she said, “don’t blame yourself. He wouldn’t want that.”

Chapter Fourteen

The apartment over the garage at Fresh Start was little more than a loft that at one time had probably been a workshop. Maybe a storage attic. Either way, Syd had appointed the place with soft yellow curtains, some comfortable chairs, a television, and a four-poster bed in the small bedroom. A picture of St. Agnes hung over the headboard.

Fallyn studied the picture of the patron saint of virgins as she unpacked a fresh blouse and some jeans from her overnight bag. She was no virgin, but she’d take help from any saint who would have her.

She was trashed, mentally, physically, and emotionally. She wouldn’t let it show, though. Not to Tony. Not to anyone. The big lug was flagellating himself over Grey, and she shared that feeling. She hated herself at this moment for bringing any of them—all of them—into her warped, mixed up, and very dangerous world.

Caroline had shown up with her new husband, Mitch, in tow at the hospital. Fallyn loved Mitch from the moment he strode into the waiting room, all long legs and snarky attitude. He’d barely nodded at her, sizing up Tony’s shutdown body language and pulling him aside.

As Caroline embraced Fallyn and then Syd, Fallyn had watched Tony draw even farther into himself as he told Mitch in hushed tones what had happened. Mitch wasn’t hard to read; he was devastated. According to Tony, Grey was Mitch’s best friend. They’d been partners together all the way back to their FBI days.

And like Syd and Fallyn, Mitch had recognized Tony’s ridiculous self-blame game. He’d gripped Tony by the arm and told him to stop being stupid. “The Justice Team can only handle one idiot around here and that’s me,” Mitch had said. “Stop honing in on my territory, Gerard.”

Caroline, Mitch, Fallyn, and Tony talked for a few minutes, then fell silent. What was there to say? While Grey was in surgery, Tony had drifted off to sit alone in a pale blue, plastic hospital chair. Fallyn followed, taking his hand and weaving her fingers through it. She didn’t badger him anymore—the poor guy had been through enough. She simply sat with him as she turned her mental focus on herself.

She had to stop being so brash. Had to stop pretending she could handle the threats and the near misses. People were getting hurt.

Grey could die because of me.

She and Tony had sat that way for a long time. Hours probably, until an exhausted doctor emerged, letting them know the bleeding had been stopped and Grey was in recovery. He wasn’t safe yet though. The next hours would be critical.

The hospital only allowed two people at a time in Intensive Care. Caroline had insisted on staying with Sydney; Mitch wasn’t going anywhere either. So Fallyn and Tony had left, Tony silent and cold, his jaw hard as stone.

She’d seen him checking for tails, and she’d once again been on a tour of the city as he drove all over. He’d swung by the hotel and the doorman had brought her overnight bag to the truck. Once he was satisfied they weren’t being tailed, Tony had parked in the garage downstairs, walked her up to the apartment, and then disappeared, saying he had to call Teeg and give him an update. He also had to follow-up with the police. Blah, blah, blah. Fallyn knew he was wrestling with his demons and needed time alone.

Being alone wouldn’t ease the set of her shoulders, the sick feeling in her stomach. Fury burned a cutting edge through her veins, her bones, her bloodstream. She focused on it, keeping the fear creeping into her tight chest at bay. She would find whoever had done this and she would make them pay. For Grey, for Syd, for Tony.

Washing off in the bathroom, she ignored her bruised and battered body and put on the fresh clothes. She’d already alerted her team to what had happened, what
was
happening, and what she wanted them to do. Now, she needed to get Tony out of his personal pity party and thinking about something else.

Like me
.

Except, he was gone. He’d come upstairs with her, cleared the rooms and disappeared. Feet bare, she padded across the floor to the door that led down to the garage. Her heels were gone. The only other pair she had were at the hotel. Whoever had packed up her stuff had missed them.

The old wooden stairs were cold and gritty. The garage smelled like oil and dirt. Tony’s truck engine was still pinging as it cooled down.

As expected, she found him sitting stock-still behind the steering wheel, face drawn, eyes blank. Was he was reliving the accident?

When he finally registered her presence, his eyes snapped to hers and he bailed out of the truck, lickety-split. “Is everything okay?”

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Not exactly.”

“I told you to let the doctor have a look at you. Are you woozy? Sick to your stomach? He said you might have a concussion.”

“I’m not concussed. I’m horny.”

“Jesus, Fallyn.” He let out a relieved breath. Or exasperated. She wasn’t sure. “You almost died a couple hours ago.”

“But I didn’t. My near-death experience didn’t turn off my desire for you. If anything, it made me want you even more.”

“No.”

Bitter. That one word full of self-loathing.

She took a step closer. “What, you don’t believe that’s possible? That I watched you save Grey from going up in a ball of flames and it turned me on?”

“Stop it. You can’t turn this around and make out like I’m a hero. I hate that fucking word and the pity behind what you’re doing right now.”

“Pity?” This man. She thought she’d jump out of her skin, he was so damn irritating. “I don’t pity you, Tony Gerard, and the only reason I would is because you’re too damn stupid to see the truth.”

“If I’d gotten there faster or had you with me…” He shot a hand through his hair, making it stand up. “This wouldn’t have happened.”

She advanced on him, backing him up against the side of the truck. “If
I
hadn’t pissed off the president, if
I
hadn’t stirred the pot about Heather’s death, if
I
had never called you two mornings ago and asked for help…if, if, if. The current situation is as much my fault as it is yours.”

Reaching out, she tugged on a section of his hair that stood up like a soldier. “There are bad people out there. Evil people. They do terrible things. You can’t stop them, Tony.”

Her breath left her as he grabbed her by her upper arms, pulled in her close. “I
am
going to stop whoever did this. You gonna mother me to death or are you going to help me?”

Angry Tony.
This is better.
“Oh, I’m going to help you. Together we’re going to bring the SOB down. We make one hell of an unstoppable team, you and me, but after today, we work smarter at figuring this out. No more putting others in danger. Agreed?”

Tony nodded, started to say something and stopped. Then, “Just you and me.”

Fallyn went up on her toes to kiss him, realized she barely could reach his lips without the extra height of her heels. She wrapped her arms around his neck, brought his head down, and planted one on him.

The kiss was hot. Soul-scorching. He whirled her around, pinning her against the door of the truck. His hands found her breasts, a tiny gasp escaping from her mouth. Taking advantage of her parted lips, he swept his tongue inside, teasing her until she moaned.

Lord, the man could kiss.

His hands went to her jeans, fingers jerkily undoing the clasp and zipper, peeling the material down over her hips. She wiggled, helping him, and shivered when he ran his big hands up her bare legs. He tickled the insides of her knees, grazed her thighs, gaze locked on hers the whole time.

She was so ready for this. Ready to let him take her anywhere he wanted. Ready to help him release his worries and doubts, his frustration with himself. “I know you loved my stockings,” she said, her voice sounding breathy, “but they were toast—literally—after the accident.”

“I like you better naked.” He took her mouth in a fierce kiss, touching her everywhere. She could feel his blatant erection through her panties.

Kissing him back, she arched into him and reached for his belt. He grabbed both her wrists and broke the kiss. “I’m going to make you moan. But first, you have to do something for me.”

Panting, Fallyn nodded, her body on fire. Whatever he wanted her to do was just fine with her. “Anything.”

He released her wrists and ripped open the front of her shirt. Buttons flew. The silky material slid off her shoulders and down her arms.

Tony’s gaze locked on her breasts, her nipples pushing at the peach lace. “My God, you are beautiful.”

She almost detonated when he reached out and brushed his knuckles across one taut nipple.

“Tony, please,” she whispered.

And that’s when she saw it. The self-confidence. The control. The power. His eyes flashed and it was all suddenly back.

He
was back. “I like it when you say please, Fallyn.”