Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
AMES
When I awake the first thing I notice is how badly my head throbs, it sounds as if a rock band has taken residence in my brain.
The second is that I’m surrounded by warmth.
Then I vaguely remember falling asleep with Trixie last night.
Immediately I try to roll away from her, but I’m prevented by the arm over my stomach.
“Kind of like feeling you there,” a very male voice rasps.
My eyes flicking open, I see it’s Rat. Twin reactions assail me. One, my resolve to leave him, and the other reminding me Trixie had suggested I give him a chance. But before I can decide between them, something else makes itself known.
“I need to pee.”
Rattler’s eyes open. “Come back to me, Ames. Please?” He sounds almost as if he’s begging when he tacks on the last word.
Raising his arm, he lets me leave. As I sit up, a bolt of pain goes through my head. I make a concerted effort to get to my feet, the urgency in my bladder urging me on. I go to the bathroom, relieve myself, then suddenly turn and vomit into the porcelain.
I am never drinking vodka again.
As I’m lean over the toilet, I feel a presence behind me, then my hair is lifted from around my face as another bout of sickness strikes me.
I should be embarrassed, but I feel too ill to protest. He stays there, silently offering his support, while I purge the contents of my stomach.
Then, when I can only spit up bile, he helps me up, and wets a hand towel under the tap. I use it to blot my overheated face.
He passes me a tooth brush already loaded with paste, I take it and clean my teeth. When I’ve finished, I turn to face him, only then noticing the strain on his face as he’s trying to help me without his crutches.
“I’m fine. For fuck’s sake go and lie down.” I shoo him away with my hands. Without waiting to see if he leaves, I open the bathroom cabinet, mumbling to myself, “Do Freak and Trixie keep Tylenol in here?”
“Got you some already, babe. It’s on the nightstand.”
After splashing water on my face, I sniff under my arms, God, I reek.
He’ll have to put up with that for a while until the painkillers deafen the drummers beating their kits inside my head.
I do spy a feminine deodorant and roll some of it on.
That will have to do until I have the strength for a shower.
I can’t find a brush, so I just finger style my hair.
It looks awful, but I don’t feel well enough to care.
Pausing to allow another wave of nausea to go through me, successfully swallowing to keep it down, I risk returning to the bedroom to find Rattler tapping at his phone.
Ignoring him, I find the tablets which have already been set out for me and using the water he’s also provided, swallow them down.
Though I purposefully didn’t ask, he tells me who he’s been texting and why. “Got a prospect coming up shortly with coffee and breakfast. Reckon you’ll feel better with some food inside you.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, the suggestion of eating has my stomach roiling again. But coffee? I hope that’s being brought up in gallons.
“We should talk,” Rattler states, but his voice isn’t firm. His tone indicates there’s not a lot he’d like to do less.
I’m in no hurry to have an in-depth discussion, not until the thumping in my head subsides. Right now I feel every beat of my heart amplified as if I’m on steroids.
Neither his nor my reluctance stops him.
“Ames, I know you don’t think much of me right now, but I beg you to stay on the compound for a while longer.
We’ve got plans to take Volkov down but at the moment he’s a very present and clear danger.
If you leave our protection, then he could take you and we’d,” he pauses and I swear it sounds like he chokes, “we’d not be able to protect you. ”
Now that he’s given me space to talk, I start preparing my response. But before I can, a knock comes at the door. Without going to the bother of getting up, Rattler just calls out permission for whoever it is to enter.
It’s the prospect who’d stayed outside the room last night, or so I suppose, if he’d followed Trixie’s instructions. My brow crease as I realise my mind is surprisingly clear on what went down the evening before, even if I was inebriated as fuck.
“Put it down over there.” Rattler indicates the table that Trixie and I had left positioned between the two chairs. The tray itself is bigger than its surface, but the prospect shifts a few things around so it’s well balanced, and the plates and cups are in no danger of falling off.
Astonishingly, the plates are stacked with my personal favourite, a staple in Arizona.
Breakfast burritos filled with scrambled eggs, chorizo and cheese.
My mouth begins to salivate and my stomach rumbles.
Careful not to jostle my head, I go and take the same seat that I used last night.
Before I eat, I down the glass of orange juice, and blow on the coffee that’s still scalding hot before taking a sip.
As I take the first bite of the burrito, I groan with pleasure.
Rattler, foregoing his crutches, uses the bed to support himself as he makes his way over to join me. Luckily, the vacant chair is the one closest to the mattress, so he places a hand on that to help him he lower himself into the seat. He, too, dives for a burrito.
“Fuck, this is good,” he moans around a mouthful. “I’d take a bet Pippa had a hand in this.”
I chew then swallow the portion I’ve just taken a huge bite off of. “Does Pippa cook?”
“Yeah, she’s fuckin’ good. She taught the club girls, but none of them except Trixie really cottoned on. It’s why Trix still cooks for us. But after last night, I doubt she’s returned to the clubhouse yet.”
Guilt goes through me. “I got Trixie in trouble with Freak, didn’t I?”
Again I’m surprised as he shakes his head.
“Nah. Freak’s got a short fuse, but once he calms down, he’s got a good head on his shoulders and thinks things through.
” He heaves a heavy sigh. “I’ve been with her, Ames, not going to deny that.
And Freak knows that. Knows she’s been fucked by all the brothers at one time or another.
But he’s no angel, he’s got a past too. They got together once he realised what’s good for the goose is also good for the gander.
By the time he was ready to take Trixie home last night, he bore no malice toward her.
” He stops, takes another bite of his burrito, then when he finishes chewing, smirks, “Trixie’s probably giving him hell for locking her in with you.
” He lowers his breakfast and grimaces as he looks at me.
“I’m sorry I did that to you, Ames. I’m sorry I forced you to stay, but I couldn’t see any other way of keeping you safe.
And I know you would have hated being confronted with Trixie, but this is their room, and honestly?
She was best out of the range of Freak’s anger until he got himself under control. ”
Gasping, I ask, “Does he abuse her?”
“Fuck no,” he responds fast. “He’d never touch her. But last night triggered him, brought arguments he’d thought he’d conquered right back in the heat of the moment. He put her out of sight precisely as he didn’t want to hurt her.”
“So, he could be a risk to her? If he had to lock her away, I mean.” I start wondering whether I should try and persuade my new friend to leave her man.
“No fuckin’ way,” he retorts. “But words hurt, sometimes they do more damage than fists. And Freak knew enough to remove the trigger that might cause him to say things he couldn’t take back.”
“Because I opened my mouth and told you.”
“You weren’t to know.” This time his words are muffled as he’s just taken a huge bite. He gulps, swallows, then looks at me once again. “The club girls should never have opened their mouths. And I, well, I should have thought before saying that shit to Trix, especially in front of Freak.”
“Trixie said they’d be punished?” I raise the intonation on the last syllable to change my statement into a question.
One side of his mouth turns up. “Prez put the fear of God into them. Enough so they won’t go spouting brothers’ business again.
” His lips press together. “Ames, it was never going to be a secret that I went with them, you’d have found out sooner or later.
But the way they did it, the way they betrayed… ”
His voice trails off.
I leave his words hanging as I carry on eating my delicious burrito, which, surprisingly is doing wonders for my stomach.
The Tylenol must be kicking in, as the drummers have moved to using the hi-hat instead of the bass drums. My mind goes over what Trixie had told me last night, that with emotions involved, Rattler would be different with me.
That’s already been backed up by the events of this morning.
I’d place good money that if any of the club girls had spewed up, he wouldn’t have bothered holding their hair back, he’d have kicked them out of the room.
And if they were suffering a hangover, he wouldn’t have thoughtfully ensured painkillers were available, and that food and coffee were brought in.
Does that excuse the ass he was with them? No. But it might just show he’s capable of being redeemed.
“The club girls are women,” I tell him. “They might be there to be used, but they deserve respect too.” I raise my brow as if to challenge him.
He finishes his burrito, wipes his mouth and then his fingers on one of the napkins that I’m surprised to see have been supplied—Pippa’s doing I suspect. The lines on his forehead deepen into a V. He tenses, then shudders, “I guess I was pushing them, just like everyone else.”
“That’s unfair,” I snipe. “They weren’t in a position to refuse you.”
His eyes close briefly. “Guess I was an ass.”
I go to agree, when a knock sounds on the door again. It’s not the tentative one the prospect used, but one which demands entry. And, without waiting for permission, the knob turns and the door opens.
Rat tries to stand, Bullseye waves him down. His eyes go between both of us, examining us one by one, before finally landing on me. “Half expected to find Rat dead by now,” he quips.
Quick as a flash I retort, “They didn’t bring any knives with breakfast.”
His stare lingers, then the sides of his mouth curve. “Lucky escape.”
Rattler, stunned for a moment, laughs. “Guess I better thank Dee for his forethought.”
Bullseye chuckles too, then sobers. He moves toward the bed, sits on the edge, then leans setting his elbows on his knees, and linking his hands.
“I bring news. Some good, some not so much.” Both Rattler and I give him quizzical glances.
“I spoke to the Russians. The Pakhan wasn’t surprised when I told him about the skimming at the casino, I reckon he’d been turning a blind eye. ”
Rattler breathes out, as I ask, “So it’s over?” Air from my lungs comes out in a whoosh.
“Not exactly. He said he needed to pull all the facts together and consider his next course of action. Volkov’s apparently gone underground.” Bullseye’s face looks grim.
I see Rattler clench his teeth, but in my view that doesn’t sound bad. “That’s good news, isn’t it? He’s more worried about his life than me.”
Bullseye shakes his head, his eyes tighten, and his mouth twists.
“Volkov is a cornered rat. His source of illicit gains has been shut off. He’s a man for whom money means all, and now he’s got to disappear.
It would be mighty convenient if he could kidnap an heiress.
” He raises his eyes and subjects me to a stare that could freeze ice in a desert.
“So, no, Ames. It’s not over. I suspect he’ll be more determined to get his hands on you. ”
Rattler’s hand reaches over the table. The movement catches my eye, and I don’t miss the pleading in his. Right now, I need his tactile support. I push mine out, and grasp his, feeling immeasurably better as his fingers tighten around mine.
“We’ll protect you, Ames.”
“We will,” Bullseye confirms. “We’ll track this asshole down. Whether or not you and Rat are a thing, you’ve got the protection of the Kings.”
Whether or not me and Rattler are a thing? My stomach roils. Not was what I wanted yesterday. After Trixie gave me her opinion last night, and with how Rattler’s been behaving this morning, I’m having second thoughts about leaving. But that’s not a discussion to be had in front of his prez.
“Ames.” Bullseye’s tone is deliberate and serious, demanding my attention. I focus my eyes on him. “Kings aren’t going to hold you to our arrangement. We’ll relinquish the claim on your inheritance.”
My eyes open wide. “So why are you helping me?”
“Because we’re Kings. And nobody fucks with us. And, whatever decision you make, or however briefly, you’re one of ours.”
I think my jaw has just dropped to the floor.
“If I have my way, she’ll be here permanently.” Rattler says the words as if they’re a vow.
Ignoring him, Bullseye still has his eyes on me.
“Don’t worry about going in front of a judge.
If you want your marriage annulled, we can erase the records as if they’d never been.
Just say the word.” Then, with that parting shot, he stands.
He leaves the room as I’m still sitting with an open mouth.