Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 3 of 3 (The McDaniels Brothers 7) (6 page)

BOOK: Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 3 of 3 (The McDaniels Brothers 7)
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Kayla took a step closer to me and I slung my arm around her waist. “Everything is okay,” I murmured in her ear.

Her hair tickled my chin as she nodded. It was tense as hell, but a minute later, the stairwell door banged a second time and we both let out a breath.

Until we got to look at everything in Roxanne’s file and whatever Kayla had managed to get from Mick’s computer, there was no way of knowing if we had what we needed, but one thing was for sure.

It was time to go.

The guards changed in half an hour. When they did, the new outdoor guard would do a quick loop around outside. We needed to be out of there before then, with all our stuff and the fire escape stairs back up the way they usually were.

We’d already stayed longer than we should have, and had one surprise. I wasn’t about to wait around for another.

“Let’s get out of here,” I muttered, taking Kayla’s icy hand in mine.

We’d given it our all. Now we just had to hope it was enough.

 

Chapter Five

 

Kayla

 

My legs were still shaking by the time we got back to Matty’s truck, but I’d managed to keep it together, and for that much I was grateful. He’d already seen a lifetime’s worth of tears from me. The last thing he needed was another round.

Besides, I should have been thrilled. The night could’ve ended up a total nightmare. We were out, we were alive, and we had what looked like a very promising start in the effort to collect some damning evidence against Mick.

Evidence that very well might prove he was responsible for murdering my mother.

I bit my lip hard and kept my gaze trained on the windshield.

“I’m so proud of you, Red. You held up like a champ.”

“You too.” I worked up a shaky smile and shifted in my seat, causing the file folders stuffed down my pants to scrape against the tender skin of my stomach. I was tempted to yank them out and paw through them even as we drove. Imagining all the things that could be in the one about me was driving me bat-shit.

“Let’s wait, okay?” Matty said softly.

I didn’t even bother to argue, knowing he was probably right. The night had been an emotional rollercoaster and I still didn’t have my land legs back. Waiting until I was on more stable ground before I poked that wound any harder was probably a good idea. That photo had nearly done me in.

“I can’t go home.”

I hadn’t even realized I felt that way until the words were out, but as soon as they were, I knew it was true. The thought of going back to the apartment that Mick had basically paid for over the past ten years…the apartment filled with memories of Christmas visits and birthday dinners?

“I can’t stay there,” I whispered.

How could I? Because right on the heel of those fond memories with Mick was the one of my mother in prison, the last time I saw her before she passed. She’d lost so much weight, her skin hung from her bones like wax melting from a candle. Her pink scalp was punctuated by patchy clumps of hair that she’d tried in vain to comb into some version of a style. I remembered wishing she would just shave it all off. Somehow the sad little tufts made her look even sicker.

The idea that Mick was behind that made my stomach pitch with revulsion. What kind of person could do that to another? Resign them to months of suffering? She may not have been mother of the year, but she didn’t deserve that. No one did.

“I don’t feel like going home either,” Matty said finally. “So let’s go somewhere, get a room and we can spread this stuff out on the floor and see what we’ve got. Or not. We can stop at a diner, order mounds of pancakes to go, and sit on the bed and watch terrible movies until we fall asleep. And then, tomorrow, we can face this again after we’ve had a chance to come down.”

We reached a stoplight and he turned my way, his expression solemn.

“You tell me what you want to do, Red, because I will do just about anything to make you feel even a little less sad.”

The desire to touch him was almost overwhelming then, but I resisted. I’d jerked him around enough emotionally and I wasn’t about to make it worse because I wanted him to comfort me. The truth was, he’d said he loved me, and as much as I knew I loved him too, I had nothing beyond that to give right now. I could barely get out of bed and function since this had all started, and the way I was feeling, it was hard to see how I ever would.

I just hurt so much, it took my breath away.

So how to deal with the problem at hand. I couldn’t go home. I didn’t want to be alone. But taking Matty up on his offer to basically babysit me through this seemed unnecessarily cruel.

“I’m realizing now, as we’re sitting here, that I lied,” he said, facing front as the light turned green again. “When I said I’d do almost anything, there’s one thing I won’t do. I’m not going to leave you by yourself tonight. I will sleep on the floor next to you. Hell, I’ll sit outside the room on a chair. But where you go, I go. At least for tonight.”

His tone was so matter of fact, I didn’t question his conviction. He was stubborn. Almost as stubborn as I was, and he meant every word he’d said.

Those confounded tears welled up again and I choked back a sob. Leave it to sweet, ornery, cocky, fabulous Matthias McDaniels to stomp my reservations into dust like the knight in battle-tested armor he was.

“Okay, then,” I said. “Let’s go to the hotel on Cornerstone Road. They have twenty-four hour room service. We can get our pancakes there.”

He popped off a little salute and shot me a smile. “You got it.”

It was a short ride to the hotel and when we got there, I was relieved to see the green Vacancy sign lit. It wasn’t fancy-- a tall building in beige faux-brick-- but it was clean and reasonably priced. A fine place to lay our heads down and hide from the world after a hell of a night.

We checked in without issue and took the elevator to the eighth floor. Our room was a little dated with its paisley comforter and mauve walls, but boasted a huge flat-screen TV and a bed big enough to fit us both without us ever having to even come close to touching.

I shoved aside the twinge of disappointment at that and sucked in a breath. “How about I order the food and you grab some ice and a couple of waters from the vending machine?”

Weird, whether it was the sudden dip in adrenaline or relief at the reprieve from having to face the rest of this tonight and alone, I was famished and dying of thirst.

“Sure. Make my pancakes chocolate chip.”

I eyed him disapprovingly, knowing he expected it, and he laughed. “Back on egg whites and fruit tomorrow, boss. Promise.”

Once this was all over, I wouldn’t be his manager anymore anyway, but part of “operation bury our heads in the sand” was apparently pretending that wasn’t a thing either, so I went along with it, gladly.

“Fine. We might as well get bacon then, too.”

I picked up the hotel landline and he snatched up the ice bucket and headed out. As I dialed, I used my free hand to tug the file folders from my pants and set them on the nightstand. They stared at me the whole time I was ordering and, after I disconnected, I picked them up again. Hardening my heart, I opened the drawer and shoved them inside, right next to the Bible.

One more night. Eight hours before everything blew up. No matter what was in those files, the past week working with Matty had made me realize something that the initial shock had made me too blind to see.

I trusted him.

Fully and completely. He didn’t lie to me, and whether we had proof or not, I knew Mickey was guilty. This was semantics. We had enough to nail him, or we didn’t. Either way, my relationship with my father was over and done with, and I was leaving Boston. There was too much pain, too many memories here. I knew that now. All that remained to be seen was whether Mick would wind up behind bars or not before I went.

Matty came back a minute later with our drinks and we sat at the miniscule round table in the corner to wait for our food. He had turned on the TV so we could flip through the movie selections.

“What about
Ninja Warrior Seven
?”

I shook my head. “No way. I love martial arts as much as the next girl, but that’s too cheese-tastic, even for me.”

He flipped through the list for a while longer and we settled on an old Adam Sandler movie. Our food came twenty minutes into it, and by the time the closing credits were rolling, I was filled to the brim with pancakes and the warm familiarity of an evening with Matty.

The tension that had been MIA as we ate and watched the movie came back with a vengeance. I stood, suddenly full of nervous energy, and started cleaning the table, clearing away our plates. “I’m going to pick up here and leave these outside the door for the maid,” I mumbled.

It was almost three AM. Surely, he would want to go to sleep now, and then what? I couldn’t really make him sleep on the floor.

But, more importantly, I didn’t want to.

What I wanted, more than my next breath, was to strip down to my underwear, climb under that ugly comforter and curl into Matty’s arms, the way I used to before everything was terrible. I wanted to kiss that sexy mouth, and curl my fingers into those warm, hard muscles, and pretend that we were the only two people in the world.

I set the dishes onto the hallway floor and closed the door. The resulting click was so loud, it seemed to echo in the room.

“Mind if I take the sheet?” he asked softly, fishing around under the blankets for one of the pillows.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Matty.” I sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and tugged off my shoes before tossing them onto the beige carpet. My heart was pounding like a scared rabbit’s, but I pushed forward. This might be the last night we ever spent together. As long as I was honest, as long as I didn’t lie to him…

“It would be silly. There’s plenty of space-”

“I appreciate the offer, Red, but I can’t control what I do in my sleep.” He held up both hands and shook his head slowly, the pained expression on his face like an arrow through my heart. “And something tells me no amount of space in the world is going to keep me from getting my hands on you if any part of my subconscious knows you’re nearby.”

I stood then, sure of nothing except the fact that I couldn’t let this night pass me by. I needed this. I needed him. “What if I don’t want you to?”

He took a step toward me and held out his arms. “I already told you, Red. Whatever you want.”

I nearly leapt that last yard into his embrace and he lifted me high and tight against his chest.

I was leaving Boston soon, but I would have one more night with Matty to take with me. Memories that would have to last a lifetime.

 

Chapter Six

 

Matty

 

As I crushed her to me, I closed my eyes and breathed deep, allowing myself to take in the sweet smell of her. The slight weight of her pressed against me.

When I finally let her feet touch the floor again, I still held her close, but I lifted one red lock of hair and curled it around my finger, trying to focus on it rather than on her face. I knew once I looked down into her amber eyes, it would be with the knowledge that whatever we did tonight, it might be for the last time.

She pulled away from me gently. "You know I can’t stay-"

"I know." I swallowed hard and then curled my hand behind her neck to bring her close. I didn't want to talk about it. That's what tomorrow was for. Right now was for us.

She relaxed against my chest and I ran my hands up and down her back. It wasn’t long before she was pressing closer. I ran my fingers over her shoulder blades, trying to ignore the temptingly slender strap of her bra, and her breath hitched. It was an exercise in willpower as she arched beneath my touch.

"I don't want you to think-" she started again, her voice muffled against my chest.

"I don't think anything. I just want to know what
you
want," I said.

"I hate leading you on."

I tucked my hand beneath her chin and crushed my lips to hers, cutting off the rest of her sentence as it turned into a low moan beneath my lips. I cupped her jaw and moved to deepen the kiss. Pulled her closer to me. Tasted the minty sweetness of her mouth.

When I finally pulled away, her breathing was shallow again, but a sad smile curved her lips.

"Sometimes," I said, "you need to learn when to stop talking."

Her sad grin became a genuine one, and she slapped my arm.

"What's that saying about pots and kettles?" she shot back.

"I’m happy to stop talking as soon as you tell me," I said.

“Tell you what?" Even as the words left her lips, I knew she’d already figured it out. Her hips ground into mine and when she lifted to her toes to wrap her arms around my neck, she pressed herself against my still-hardening cock.

"Exactly what you want."

She seemed to hesitate but then met my gaze. "I just want you, Matty,” she said simply.

“What are you waiting for, then?”

BOOK: Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 3 of 3 (The McDaniels Brothers 7)
8.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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