Seth (Damage Control #3) (29 page)

BOOK: Seth (Damage Control #3)
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My mouth goes dry. I want to kiss her. Dying to kiss her. “So you’re not with Fred. Or anyone else?”

She huffs a breath of laughter. “Well, to be honest, I am with someone.”

“Fuck.” My stomach plunges. “Who?”

“You may know him. Tall, handsome, kind. Strong and sexy. A little banged up and down on his luck, but I sense things are about to change.”

I blink at her, unable to speak.

“I’ve been his for a while, without realizing,” she goes on, her long lashes sweeping low over her eyes, hiding them. “But I don’t know if he wants me with him for real.”

“He’d be…” My breath catches. “He’d be an idiot if he didn’t want you. Manon… I have a record, no money, no job. Are you sure?”

“I know all this,” she whispers. “Do you want me? Am I yours?”

“Fuck yeah, you are.” I lift both our hands to her face. My pulse is roaring in my ears. “You are.”

And I’ll do everything in my power to make her happy.

***

Shoulder immobilizer in place, with a prescription and forms to fill out, I leave the hospital with strict instructions to return if the fever persists and if I notice any swelling, discoloration or numbness in my arm.

Pumped full of sedatives and painkillers, with my shoulder fixed and my arm steadied, the pain dropping to a bearable level, I can breathe again. I can think.

And I realize Manon is still there with me. As are the other guys. Shane, Zane, Rafe. In fact, more have appeared since last I looked: Jesse is there, with Amber, Micah and Ev.

What the hell? They all know about my record now. Why would they bother to come check on me?

They are quiet as they surround us, clapping each other’s backs. One by one they come to me. Ev kisses my cheek. Micah nods and squeezes my forearm.

Jesse pulls me in for a quick hug, pats my back. “Glad you’re okay, man. When I heard they couldn’t find you, I just about punched a hole in the wall.”

“J.” I wait until he lets go. “You know about me. I don’t fucking get it.”

“Did you do it?” He’s staring steadily back at me, right there on the street outside the hospital, and there’s a challenge in his gaze. “Back at Damage, you claimed you were set up. Was that true?”

I swallow hard. “Yes, it was.”

“Then I believe you.” He grabs my hand, squeezes. “I trust you, Seth. You believed me when I needed you, had my back. If you say you’re innocent, then I believe you, man. We all do. Because we are your friends, and we fucking love you, man.”

Fuck.
I clasp his hand, hold on, ’cuz it feels like I’m caught in an eddy of emotions I don’t understand. I know I’m grateful. Happy. Touched. So fucking scared to trust in it I have no words.

Then Manon is tugging me toward her car, and I let her, follow her blindly. My lungs feel crushed. My ribs ache. The familiar pressure is back. Feels like my heart will give out.

Means the world to me, that they’re standing by my side, even if Zane and Rafe kicked me out. Because my record isn’t going away, and they’ve every right to be damn angry with me. The fact that they came after me, made sure I’m okay, is more than I could ever hope for.

Finding Manon with me is more than I could ever dream.

I’ll take that. I’ll goddamn take it and be thankful. Broken bones and dislocated shoulders are sure worth it. Small price to pay for finding out I’m not alone—no, not just that, but that my cousin, my best friend, and my girl are on my side.

Dammit, fate. Did you plan all this? You’re damn good. I can’t ask for more—because it’s already more than I’ve ever had. More than I’ve ever imagined having.

***

The question of where I’m crashing tonight never comes up. We park outside Manon’s apartment and we all file inside.

Looks like everyone knows about my eviction from my apartment. Also where we were heading since we left the hospital.

We all cram inside Manon’s apartment, and I’m settled on the sofa. Nobody seems about to leave, and I don’t know what’s going on. Zane is on the phone, while Jesse, Micah and Rafe are talking quietly in a corner. Ev is doing something in the kitchen together with Manon.

So fucking weird.

Then it gets weirder, because the doorbell rings, and more people arrive. Asher and Dylan, Ocean and Tyler, Dakota and Tessa. The whole gang is here.

What the fuck?

“What’s going on?” I ask when Tyler sits down beside me, and Asher on the other side of me. “What’s this? Am I under arrest or something?”

Tyler elbows me in the ribs. “Relax, buddy. First of all, we’re checking on you, making sure you’re okay. When one of our family is hurt, we show up. Suck it up and be quiet.”

I gape at him, and he smirks. “You know my—”

“Your record. Yeah, heard everything.” He waves a hand back and forth dismissively. “Drug possession. When you were seventeen. And trafficking. Got it.”

I’m still gaping at him. “But Zane—”

“Zane lost it because you never told him. He has a thing about that. He fucking hates it when we don’t talk to him about our problems. He’s such a mother-hen.”

Okay.
I’ve landed in a
Fringe
episode. Alternative reality. Has to be.

“But he…” I try again, trying to wrap my mind around this. “He sent me away. You were there. I don’t—”

“Z-man sent you home,” Asher says from my other side. He looks dead serious. “Until he could sort things out, find out more about this. He didn’t send you away. Zane would never do that to you.”

“That’s right,” Zane says, and fuck, when did he cross the room to stand right in front of me? I’m getting whiplash with these guys. “Now listen to me, fucker. Don’t spring things like that on me. I’m getting gray hair with this shit. You’re family, and I’m behind you all the way, no matter if you made mistakes in your past or not. I’d never have sent you away without looking into this. I trust you. As long as you trust me, too, and don’t hide things from me.”

“We are looking into this,” Tyler says, and Jesus, I have no clue what they’re talking about.

“Looking into what?” I glance from one to the other, mystified. My shoulder is throbbing dully, there’s a hum inside my skull. “What’s going on?”

Zane turns toward the corner where Rafe’s standing, talking on his cell phone. “We got into contact with the jail where your mom’s held. Talked to her lawyer. It seems there might be a new development.”

In what? I want to ask. What the hell are they doing? But I notice that everyone’s now looking at Rafe, who’s gesturing as he turns his back to us, saying something, then nodding.

I’m distantly aware of Asher and Tyler getting up, approaching Rafe. They’re forming a circle around him. I’m left outside.

Manon sits down beside me, takes my good hand. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” Her touch grounds me. Like a lifeline, it tethers me, embraces me. “Any idea what they’re doing? Who is Rafe talking to? Is…” The words catch in my mouth. “Is my mom okay?”

“She’s fine.” She nods at Shane who’s broken away from the circle and comes to perch on the armrest of the couch. “Any news?”

“It seems she…” He shakes his head, pulls his long hair out of his face. He looks shaken. “Your mom. She confessed.”

I stare at him. Stare at his wide eyes, his arched brows, the shock written on every line of his face. “She what?”

“She said you talked to her, told her things… made her realize what she’s done. Made her regret.” Shane’s eyes meet mine. “She confessed she set us up three years ago. Claims she was duped by her husband, assured we’d get off light.”

“The hell she did.”

“I know. But the thing is, man… she confessed. Officially and everything. Our case will be reopened.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” He just sits there, slumped over. “Yeah.”

We stare at each other. Shouldn’t we be jumping around in joy, chest-bumping, back-thumping? Singing, or yelling or something?

I can’t believe this is real. From Shane’s face, I bet he doesn’t either. When life has fucked you over as many times as it did us, then you’re always suspicious of the good news.

The others don’t seem to have any trouble believing it, though. Rafe finally lowers the damn phone, and they all start yelling and punching the air. Zane grabs Dakota round the waist and swings her around, making her squeal. Micah and Ev hug each other, laughing. Tyler and Asher bump fists.

This is really happening. Too much to take in. Especially when Zane and Asher turn toward me and come to stand over me.

“I have a damn good feeling about this,” Zane says, grinning like the mad joker. “We’ll clear your name, guys. Just wait and see. The Brotherhood doesn’t easily give up. Not on their own.”

Their own. It’s slowly sinking in, in fits and starts, in rippling circles. I’m part of this brotherhood, this family. They never were about to kick me out. All this time, they’ve been trying to help. They had my back and now they’re celebrating because they might have found a way to save me. Clear my name. Give me back my life.

Manon’s arm slips around me, and I breathe out, struggling to focus. But I can’t. My eyes have gone blurry, and I can’t breathe. I can’t. Gasping, gritting my teeth, I bend over. There’s a stone lodged under my ribs, a lump in my throat. It won’t go away.

“Seth.” Manon twists, puts both arms around me. “Hey…”

My chest contracts, my lungs finally allow in air, and I gasp again, dimly aware my cheeks feel cool. Wet. The pressure in my chest finally gives, and the pain starts to fade.

More arms go around me, patting my good arm, my back, holding me. Anchoring me. Shane, Asher, Jesse.

Fuck.
I’m crying on Manon’s shoulder. What the fuck’s wrong with me? I’ve made it through the worst without shedding a damn tear, and now I can’t seem to stop.

“I love you,” she whispers in my ear. “I love you, Seth.”

I hang on to her voice, to her words, struggling through this, and think, well, if she still does, even after seeing me sob like a baby, then fuck it. Seriously, when all’s said and done? I’m the luckiest man in the whole damn world.

Thank you, fate. I owe you.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Manon

A month later

 

I wake up to find Seth sitting up in bed, clutching his injured arm to his stomach. He’s graduated from a full shoulder immobilizer to a smaller sling, since that awful day when we found him in that back alley, and the doctors are happy with his progress. Still, on some days he’s in pain.

“Hey.” I sit up, rubbing my eyes. The sky outside is lightening. “Can I get you a painkiller?”

“I’m fine.”

I know he has nightmares. Mostly from his time in prison. He told me about them, told me a few things about what happened there. Makes me want to hug him all the time, remind him those days are over.

That’s what I do now. I scoot closer, hug him around his waist. He puts his good arm around my shoulders and I lean on him, inhaling his spicy, musky scent.

“Bad dreams?” I whisper, my cheek resting on the hard muscle of his pec.

He hums an affirmation.

“Want to talk about it?” I look up, searching his face for clues.

I like to think I’ve learned the small shifts in his expression that tell me what he’s thinking—but maybe he’s just lowering his defenses around me, letting me see what he feels. Even when he’s angry or sad, or shaken by a nightmare—something he wouldn’t have allowed himself before.

He trusts more. Slowly, in degrees, he’s letting himself believe his life won’t crash and burn come tomorrow. That this isn’t a joke. That he has a chance at happiness.

He’s back to training at the tattoo shop. Zane is really pleased with his work and wants him taking it up full time soon. Meanwhile, he got a job at a gym. In fact, Cassie’s the one who got him the job. Maybe one day the guys will become friends with her again.

And I have a surprise for him: I’ve asked at the Herpetology Club at the university if they’d accept a member from outside, and they said yes. I hope he likes the idea.

“How about I go make us some coffee?” I ask.

Seth doesn’t move. He’s looking at me under lowered lashes, and I frown. What I see in his gaze is fear.

“What is it?” I lift one hand and rub slow circles over the hard muscles of his chest. “Seth.”

He often dreams of the solitary confinement room where he was locked up sometimes, or the guard who beat him up. Can’t stand to see him lost in pain.

“Nothing,” he whispers. He smiles, the fear slowly fading from his gaze. “It’s nothing. Can’t even recall what the dream was about.”

I rub my cheek on the soft flannel of his T-shirt. “Maybe it’s stress, because you’re meeting your mom tomorrow.”

“Maybe.” He shivers, and I manage to scoot just a little bit closer. “Don’t know what the fuck to feel about that.”

Because she confessed, and maybe one day his record may be cleared. But how do you clear your head from all those memories of pain, or from the fact that it was your own mom who left you to suffer and vanished from your life?

Yeah. He may forgive her someday, I don’t know. It’s his mom. But as for myself, I don’t know if I can ever forgive her for putting him through this.

“I’ll be there with you,” I remind him gently. “You’re not alone in this, Seth.”

He sighs, kisses the top of my head. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?”

“Been so nice. Now you’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” I murmur. “You’re mine. Not letting you go.”

I love the smile that lights up his face. I’ll convince him I’m staying, that this is for real, and that he deserves all the happiness in the world.

***

“Looks like another gray day.” I peek out of the kitchen window, clutching my steaming mug in my hands. “Let’s hope it won’t rain.”

I’m driving us to Indiana, to visit Seth’s mom in jail. Rain on the highway isn’t one of my favorite things in life, although for Seth, I’d do anything.

It’s because he looks so delicious, sitting in my kitchen only in his sweats, that muscular chest bare, I tell myself. Even the black sling looks badass on him, the tattoos on his arm peeking over the cloth, swirling on his pecs and shoulders.

But it’s not just that. I love his mind, his big heart that lets him listen to my petty complaints and rants and think they are important, even if his own problems are that much worse. His lack of selfishness and arrogance.

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