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Authors: Cora Brent

BOOK: Risk (Gentry Boys #2)
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I didn’t move until the last note was done.  I hoped he would start with another song but he just sighed and kissed my shoulder.  I turned and found his mouth.  We kissed for a long time and then he gently rolled me over and opened my legs.   He ended up doing exactly what he’d meant to do when he knocked on my door tonight; he made me come until I screamed and then he fell asleep on my breasts after he finished taking what he needed.

Sleep eluded me for a long time.  I listened to the way he breathed and admired the strong muscles rising and falling under my hands.  I began to recognize something terrifying. 

I could fall for Creedence Gentry.  I could fall for him so hard I might not ever get back up. 

I was already halfway there. 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CREED

 

I left her before the sun came up.  Truly was confused, trying to hold me in the darkness, and I didn’t know what to tell her.  I ran my hand through her hair as she looked at me sleepily, her head returning to the pillow. 

“Be careful not to let the cat out,” she said, smiling a little because it was what she’d said to me the first time we spent the night together. 

I kissed her and stood.  That first night was supposed to be the only night.  Now I didn’t know what the hell was supposed to happen.  I hadn’t gone looking for this. A few months ago I’d stood quietly by and watched my own brother go ape shit over a girl.  I never thought that insanity would find me. 

But here it was.  Even when Truly pissed me off – like she did last night when she pulled away and pouted – I still thought she was fucking perfect.  Every word she said had my full attention.  Every move she made was beautiful.  The idea of any other man ever putting his hands on her body again was enough to make my head roar and my fists tighten. With a jolt I realized I hadn’t looked at another woman since I saw Truly Lee walk into The Hole. 

I didn’t know if she understood how much she had me by the balls.  What should a man say to drive that point home?  Should he say anything at all? 

Especially when he might not be in one fucking piece for long. 

That was a dark thought.  I couldn’t shake it off though, remembering the mess that had been made out of Emilio. 

The damn cat was staring at me again.  It seemed less hostile now, or maybe it was me who was less hostile.  I knelt down in the living room and the animal blinked at me before creeping forward.  Dolly was her name, I remembered.  She purred under my hand and tried to get closer. 

“Told you we would revisit this shit,” I whispered, oddly pleased that the thing had apparently decided that I didn’t suck.  I ran my hand over her silky fur for a few more seconds before heading out. 

The dim morning air held a hint of fall chill but I knew it would get hot later.  It was always hot. 

There were few people in sight on the walk back to my place. When I reached my front door I remembered that I didn’t have my keys with me.  The night before, I’d jumped right over the patio wall when I heard Cord and Saylor starting to pull each other’s clothes off in a mad frenzy.  My keys were most likely on the couch where I had tossed them before I went outside.

I walked around to the patio in the hopes the door would be still be open like I’d left it.  Instead I found Chase. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?” 

He held up a bottle in the shadows.  “Having a beer.” 

“At six am?”

“Yeah.  You want one?”

“No.”

Chase smiled and took a long drink.   I waited until he was done.  “Were you waiting up for me?” 

Chase looked up at the fading moon.  Sunrise was near.  “I was talking to Cord.” 

I leaned against the wall and rubbed my eyes.  They burned.  I needed sleep.  “Where is Cord?”

“He went back to bed.”  My brother took a deep breath in the dark.   I could feel his eyes on me.  “Did you have fun watching the fight?”

I didn’t answer right away because I didn’t want to talk about that.  I wanted to remove it from my mind.  “The guy got pretty fucked up,” I admitted. 

Chase let out an odd chuckle.  “Fucked up.  Yeah, he did.” 

“What, were you there or something?”

“No.  I told Cord where you were so he made some calls.”  Chase tipped the beer bottle back and emptied it down his throat.  “I guess you didn’t hear.” 

“Hear what?  Jesus, Chase, can you come clean about what you’re getting at?”

“He’s not fucked up, Creedence.  He’s dead.” 

“Bullshit.”  I said the word.  I heard it hanging in the air with a note of hope.  But I knew Chase was telling the truth. 

“Afraid not, Big C.  He was deposited at the county medical center with a crushed skull.  Bleeding in the brain or something. I don’t know.  He’s dead all the same.” 

The ground no longer felt solid beneath my feet.  I tried to summon the image of Emilio’s self-assured grin but couldn’t. 

Chase stood up.  He pulled his arm back and then let the beer bottle fly through the air.  It landed somewhere in the parking lot with a mighty crash. 

“Damn,” he said softly.  “I missed.  I was aiming for the windshield of that fucking Escalade.”

“Yeah, you never could throw for shit.” 

We stayed in the darkness together, side by side, until the earliest rays of light began to play across the ground.   Chase had always been a talker, a wisecracking pain in the ass with a smart answer to all of the good and the ugly in life.  But as he stood next to me I felt his struggle to come up with some words, any words, in the face of awful things. 

“Think I’ll go get some sleep,” I finally said.

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “I’m gonna shower so I can smell pretty for class.” 

“You don’t have any class, remember?”

His laugh came out as a cough and he started to go indoors.  Suddenly he pivoted and hugged me briefly, awkwardly. He didn’t say another word before retreating inside.   When I heard a door shut and the shower start I went to the kitchen.  I’d left a pack of cigarettes on top of the fridge.  Filthy habit, I didn’t pick them up often.  They reminded me of someone I didn’t like to think about. 

I went back to the porch and lit a cigarette but didn’t inhale.  I knew there was no point in lying down.  Sleep wasn’t coming.  I wished I hadn’t left Truly’s bed.  For the hours I’d spent holding her, my mind had stopped warring with itself for a while.  But I was afraid if I stayed then I would blurt out all the crap that was weighing on my mind; the fears I had for myself, for my brothers.  I didn’t have any right to shove all that trash on her. 

Truly was still something of a mystery.  She was caring and gorgeous and she excited the living hell out of me.  She’d given hints that her past was complicated but I didn’t push her to talk about it. I just listened to whatever she did want to tell me. There was some painful history there; that much was clear.  If she thought any of it would matter to me enough to let go of her then she was wrong. 

The sun quickly began to exert its power over the desert and I started to sweat sitting out there on the patio.  I heard Chase trudge off to whatever he did in a day.  Saylor and Cord woke up and milled around in the kitchen, going about their morning routine. From what I heard of their conversation, it sounded as if he hadn’t filled her in on what happened last night.  I listened to her trying to brightly chatter away before she paused, asking him what was wrong.  He gave her single syllable answers and then kissed her before she left with a sigh. 

A few seconds after I heard the front door close, Cord poked his head out on the patio.

“You can come inside now,” he said. 

I sighed.  I’d burned through the whole pack of cigarettes although I’d only inhaled a few times. 

Cordero sat on the couch.  He was wearing one of his frayed old shirts and sporting new ink on his left arm, a complex tribal tattoo. 

“You do that?” I asked, pointing. 

He didn’t look.  He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and stared at me with the same blue eyes I saw in the mirror every day.  “Sit down, man.” 

I sank down next to him.  Chase always cranked the air conditioning way up.  As I leaned against the couch the blowing air chilled my sweaty skin.  I figured Cord might lecture me about running off to watch the fight last night without even telling him anything about it.  Then he’d probably drag me to the gym for a workout and to try to sort out everything he might know about beating a fighter like Jester. 

You. 

When I closed my eyes I saw that son of a bitch pointing his finger at me with a grin.  When I closed them again I saw Emilio’s head lying in a pool of blood. 

Cord didn’t say anything of the kind though.  He said something else. 


I’m
dealing with this shit.  All right?  I’m taking the fight.” 

I looked at him.  He meant it.  Gabe had been itching for Cord to take my place since he was the more proven fighter.  If Cord had called Gabe already…

“No fucking way,” I said, standing.  “You are
not
taking the fight.  I will break your goddamn leg if I have to.”

He smiled a little grimly.  “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re damn right I would.  And when I’m done I’ll hold you down and let Saylor break the other one if that’s what it takes to keep you home.” 

His head dropped at the mention of Saylor’s name. 

“Cord,” I said softly, sitting down again, “you didn’t already volunteer, right? Tell me you fucking didn’t.” 

He didn’t look up.  “I fucking didn’t.” 

I relaxed a little. “I can do this.  You should see this guy.  Who the hell wants to root for a crazy-eyed racist?”

Cord’s eyes found me then. They were haunted.  “I’ve got some money saved.” 

I shrugged.  “So?  You planning on placing a bet?”

“No.  I’m giving it to you.  You could clear out of here for a while until all this blows over.” 

He didn’t understand the stakes, not like I did.  I hated to crush the note of hope in his voice.  “Won’t work.  Gabe will just come after you guys.”

Cord snorted with scorn.  “Yeah okay, let him.  I’m pretty sure I could take that shithead down with one tap.” 

“He won’t come himself, Cordero.  He’ll send someone else.” 

My brother sighed.  He looked around the apartment.  “Then we’ll all go.  You guys always wanted to get out of Arizona anyway.  Might be nice.  Fresh start and all.  There’s no way you can convince me Gabe Hernandez has a multi-state reach.” 

“No,” I muttered.  “He doesn’t.” 

Cord began to look encouraged.  He started talking about moving somewhere by the water.  When we were kids we always dreamed that someday we would get to live close to water. 

I listened to him for a minute and then had to cut him off.  “No.  Chase finally got himself in school.  He also has a few issues he needs help with.  And then there’s the question about what to do for cash.   You’re finally on the path to something good. Took us a while to even get this far and if you look around you’ll notice this isn’t really that far.” 

Cord waved a hand.  “Chase would be fine.  We’d take care of him.  Get him clean, get him back in school.  As for jobs, we’d find something.” 

I hesitated.  There was something else that I needed to bring up. “Heard Saylor in the bathroom several times this week.” 

Cord tensed.  He looked away.  He knew what I was getting at. 

“Would be tough,” I said slowly, “being on the run with a pregnant girl.  And then what the hell would you do once the baby’s born?”

He still didn’t look at me. 

“Unless,” I continued, “you’re planning on leaving her behind.” 

“NO!” he shouted. 

I nodded.  “Good.  I didn’t think you would.  And frankly I’ve got something right here I’m not so ready to walk out on.” 

He was stunned.  “Truly?”

I laughed.  “Don’t look so shocked.  I do have a heart you know.” 

Cord blinked.  He bit his lip in the way he used to do as a kid when he was getting the shit kicked out of him and trying not to bawl about it.  “I know you have a heart, Creedence.  You always have.”  I heard the pain in his voice and it killed me.  “I couldn’t fucking take being without it.  Can’t lose you, man.” 

“You won’t,” I said coolly.  I was trying to give him a measure of confidence that I wasn’t sure I felt myself.  “Hey, I’ve got some incentive, right?  There’s a little tadpole just waiting for me to play uncle.”  I thought about that, surprised at how much the idea warmed something deep in my chest.  "I’ll be a damn good uncle.” 

“I believe it,” answered Cord.  His face lost its look of tragedy and he smiled a little. 

I checked the time.  “Don’t you have to get going to work?  That ink won’t paint itself.” 

“Today it’s gonna have to because I’m spending the day with my brother.” 

“Well then,” I stretched, “what’ll we do?”

Cord dragged me to the gym and was no nonsense about it.  We didn’t go to the place by campus where Chase had been attacked several months earlier.  The one we went to was three miles away.  It was older, grubbier, and filled with more rough characters than a Gentry family reunion.  It suited us better. 

“Don’t step, Creed.  That’s your fucking problem.  You take a big step before you swing and you advertise exactly where you’re going.  Don’t give out hints for free.” 

I was sweating hard.  We both were.  We went round and round in an endless battle that wasn’t meant to have a winner. When Cord came at me I had the surreal feeling I was fighting myself. 

After we’d gone around like that for more than an hour we took a break on the mats.   Cord draped his shirt around his neck and swallowed a bottle of water.  Sometimes when I sat quietly beside one or both of the boys, my mind played weird tricks on me.  I was flooded with memories that began before I understood what memories were, before I understood anything at all. 

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