Текст книги "Exposed"
Автор книги: Brighton Walsh
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I watched with horror as Aaron took a gun from the waistband of his jeans and pressed it against Evie’s head. Her eyes went wide then, frantic, as she stared at me. She was breathing rapidly, her chest heaving as she tried to pull in deep breaths through her nose. A million things danced in her eyes, a thousand unasked questions, and I didn’t have any answers. I didn’t know a fucking thing. Nothing was going according to plan, nothing was how we’d talked about it, and now her life was on the line. Now she was in danger, and I wasn’t going to be able to do a damn thing to help her. Again.
Every time she’d ever needed me, needed someone there to help her, I’d failed her, and this was no different.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” I said, trying to soothe her, trying to keep my voice even and calm, but by the fearful gleam that still shone in her eyes, I wasn’t successful in convincing her.
Max laughed again. “Aww, that’s sweet. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but nothing is going to be okay until you tell me where the rest of the evidence is.”
Swallowing my fear, I leveled my voice and spoke to Max, though I kept my eyes on Evie, on the point of the gun nestled in her hair, on the finger Aaron had wrapped around the trigger. “It’s too late. Everything’s already been put into place. If Evie and I don’t come out of here, evidence gets mailed off to every major news outlet and to Chicago’s finest.”
I heard the creak of his office chair and caught movement out of the corner of my eye as he leaned forward. “Well, that’s not the answer I was hoping for, Kid. Seems we’ve got a bit of a problem. Because I’m not letting either of you walk out of here. And it would be very bad for business if anyone got wind of the twelve-million-dollar nest egg I’m sitting on, courtesy of Chicago’s favorite businessman, Blaine Pruitt. I’ve been doing this for six goddamn years, and if you think I’m going to let you two lackeys fuck this up for me, you haven’t learned a damn thing from me.”
“I don’t think they’re the ones who are going to fuck this up for you, Max. I think you did that all on your own.” The voice came from the doorway, and I slid my gaze from Evie for a split second to watch as three guys filled the frame of the door. The one in front was dressed impeccably in a well-tailored suit, the two guys flanking him at the back in dark shirts and jeans, much like Aaron, their bulk blocking out the light from the open warehouse behind them.
It took me a minute to place the guy in front, but as I stared at his dark hair peppered with gray, his aristocratic nose and clean-shaven face, a spark of recognition flared, and this was either the best possible outcome or the worst, because it seemed that Blaine had decided to pay Max a visit.
“Hope that piece of garbage at the front wasn’t anyone important,” he said as he walked farther into the room, glancing to the left at where Evie sat in the chair in front of Aaron, then to the gun pointed at her head. When he turned to look at me, his eyes settled on my face for a couple of seconds before he turned to Max. He unbuttoned his suit coat and tucked his hand into the front pocket of his pants, casual as you please. “This is quite the shit hole you have here. You’d think with twelve million and some change you’d be able to afford a nicer headquarters for your crew.”
Max’s face turned red with rage as he stood from his chair, leaning over his desk. “You fucking bitch! You sold me out.”
Though her mouth was covered, Evie’s eyes sparkled like she was smiling, and then she moved the arms from behind her back, sliding her hands free of the rope and letting it fall to her feet, and reached up to peel the tape from her mouth. “I didn’t, but I sure as hell wish I had.”
“What the fuck…” Max breathed. And then before I could move, before I could blink, before I could even really consider how Evie’d been able to get out of her restraints, I watched in horror as Max reached under his desk and pulled out a gun, pointing it right at her. “Should’ve done this myself five years ago.”
I didn’t think before I dove toward her a split second before a shot rang out.
EVIE
It all happened so fast. The blink of an eye, really. One minute Aaron had his gun pointed at me, and the next he was using the distraction of Blaine to loosen my ropes enough so I was able to slip free of them. Then there was shouting, the angry look Max fixed on me as he pointed a gun straight at my chest. Riley crashed into me from the side, knocking me off the chair and onto the floor at the same time the earsplitting sound of a gunshot rang in the small room, followed almost immediately by another. His full weight settled harshly on top of me as I slammed into the cool concrete floor, the force of which knocked the wind out of me.
There was so much commotion, so many voices, none of which I could focus on. All I could do was stare at the ceiling and wonder why Riley hadn’t gotten off me yet. And then I felt the wetness at my shoulder a moment before Aaron was above us, rolling Riley to the side as Riley’s loud groan filled my ear.
“Jesus, Kid,” Aaron said, kneeling next to us, his focus on Riley. “Can you hear me?”
Was he asking that because the shots had been so loud in the tiny room? My ears were ringing, but I could still make out everything he was saying, could still hear movement from elsewhere in the room, other voices, too. Once again noticing the wetness seeping through my sweater onto my skin, I reached up to press my fingers to it. Red-stained fingertips met my gaze when I brought my hand in front of my face.
“Is Evie okay?” Riley asked, his voice frantic and strained. “Did she get hit?”
Even as I heard Aaron say, “She’s fine, man. You did good,” I still took stock of my body, thinking I’d somehow gotten shot in the commotion, that my body had gone numb from the shock. But Aaron was leaning over Riley, all his focus on him, and everything clicked into place. The gunshot. Riley knocking into me from the side. The bloodstain on my shirt.
It wasn’t my blood. It was his.
“No…” I breathed, scrambling up on my knees to look down at Riley. Dark red pooled under his shoulder, the stain spreading. Someone was calling my name, but I couldn’t focus on anything but the sight of Riley lying in front of me and his bloodstained shirt.
I reached out, running my hands over his face, over as much of his body as I could reach, making sure he was okay. His eyes were focused on me, blinking up at me, and I wanted to drown in them. I didn’t realize I was crying until Riley reached up with his good arm and wiped the flow of tears with his thumb.
“It’s okay. I’m okay,” he said.
“Evie!” Aaron snapped, shaking my shoulder to finally get my attention. “I need you to put pressure on the wound so I can help him sit up. Can you do that?” He grabbed my hands and placed them on either side of Riley’s shoulder, then used both of his to apply pressure to mine, showing me what to do.
I nodded and looked over at him, realizing that he’d stripped off his shirt at some point, the warm cotton material now under my hands and helping to stop the blood flow from Riley’s bullet wound.
“Okay?” Aaron asked again. “The bullet went straight through, but it managed to miss all his main arteries. He’s gonna be fine.”
“You can’t know that! He needs to get to a hospital.”
“Evie.” Aaron’s voice was low but commanding, and I looked over at him, my eyes wide and frantic, hands hovering helplessly above Riley’s body. “This isn’t the first gunshot wound I’ve seen. I’ve got Doc coming in, but we can’t bring him to the ER. You know that.”
Because if Riley went to the hospital with a gunshot wound, the police would be called. Doc had been the one Gage and Aaron had called to patch me up all those years ago, so I trusted him. Nodding once again, I swallowed and pressed down with both hands while Aaron helped Riley sit up.
Aaron moved to stand, but before he could get far, Riley asked, “Gage? Does he know?”
Aaron was stoic, had always been a blank slate, his poker face impeccable, but I swore the side of his mouth tipped up on one side. “Who do you think called Blaine? As soon as he realized Evie’d been taken, he was getting shit lined up.”
Riley blew out a sigh of relief as Aaron walked to another part of the room, his voice mixing with a couple others, but I couldn’t focus on what they were saying. Couldn’t focus on anything but Riley’s pale face, his forehead beaded with sweat, as his eyes darted to every inch of me that he could see.
“You’re not hurt?” he asked.
“No,” I said, the single word coming out in a croak.
As if he didn’t take my word for it, he swept his eyes along my body, his brows creasing when he got to my chest. Reaching out with his good arm, Riley tugged up the neck of my shirt, the part that Frankie had ripped earlier. When I’d been conscious enough to start fighting. He hadn’t been with me long before Aaron had come in, but it’d been long enough. Long enough for him to backhand me. Long enough for me to break his nose.
“You can show me that pretty bra later,” Riley said. “The rest of these assholes don’t need to see it.”
It was such a Riley thing to say, even as he was sitting there with a fresh bullet wound, that I couldn’t stop the choked laughter from spilling forth.
Riley’s eyes darted down to my mouth, then his lips kicked up at the sides, a small smile forming. “There it is.” He brought his hand up to my face, his thumb running along my cheek. “I’ve been waiting this whole week for you to smile for me like that. If I’d known all it took was a gunshot wound, I might’ve made it happen sooner.”
The smile dropped from my face, thoughts of everything that had happened over the last few hours bombarding me. I didn’t attempt to stop the tears as they welled up and spilled over. “Don’t say that.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay.” He reached up again, his hand cradling my face as his thumb tried to catch every tear rolling down my cheeks.
“No you’re not! You’re shot, and it’s my fault. Because I got it in my head that I couldn’t be strong and still stay behind. I’m sorry, Riley. I should’ve listened to what you were saying instead of holding so tightly to what I thought I needed to do. I was so worried about you taking any power I had away from me that I couldn’t see past it.”
“Come here,” he said, his voice gruff as he tugged me forward until our noses were mere inches apart. “I don’t ever want to make you feel powerless, Evie. It wasn’t about taking the choice away from you, but about making sure you were out of harm’s way. Making sure you were safe. I didn’t want you anywhere near Max or Frankie again.”
I nodded, closing my eyes as fresh tears ran down my face. I couldn’t stop them, didn’t even try to. I was too relieved that Riley was okay.
“You don’t need to prove your strength to anyone, baby. Least of all me. I know how strong you are. You’ve been through more in your life than everyone else in this room combined. And you’re still standing. That’s pretty strong. That’s pretty fucking amazing.”
I allowed his words to seep into me, letting them wash over my insecurities. I heard him, heard everything he was saying.
I just had to start believing.
Chapter Thirty
Riley’s apartment was so familiar, even though I’d never been here before. It was reminiscent of the place he and Gage had had when we were in high school. The walls were white, stained yellow with age, the carpet a dark brown, no doubt hiding years of stains. A beat-up couch and a giant TV were the only things in the living room.
It was so strange that I felt more at home here, stepping into this space I’d never been, than I had the entire time I’d lived in a beautiful house with Eric.
Riley led the way down the hall, our hands linked between us. He hadn’t let me out of his sight since everything had gone down with Max. Not when Aaron was making calls, barking orders to everyone in the crew who’d been sent out to find me. Not when Aaron had come over to talk to Riley as Doc had patched him up. Not when Blaine offered his gratitude to me for finding the evidence about Max’s embezzlement. Not when we’d crammed in the backseat of Aaron’s car so he could drop us off, since Riley wasn’t going to be able to drive his bike for some time, at least not until his bullet wound healed.
He didn’t say anything as he flipped on the light in his bedroom. His bed was unmade and rumpled, a few pairs of jeans lying on the floor. The room was bare, much like the rest of his place. Riley’s grunt pulled me out of my appraisal of his space, and I turned to see him attempting to tug his shirt over his head.
“What are you doing?” I asked, the reprimand in my tone apparent.
“I’m getting undressed so we can get in the shower.” His eyes flitted up to mine, then focused on the place to the right of my eyes, the place I knew was a matted mess with dried blood. When Frankie had backhanded me earlier, the force had sent me flying, my head glancing off the corner of a table. It still hurt like a bitch. “I can’t stand to look at that on you and think about what he did to you.”
His voice was filled with so much emotion, so much agony, that I couldn’t do anything but nod and follow him into the bathroom. We undressed carefully, our movements only focused on inciting the least amount of pain. Riley’s arm was contained mostly to his side, the barest movement causing his teeth to clench, his wound wrapped in a waterproof bandage at Riley’s request, with more supplies given to us so I could play nurse later.
Once we were under the warm spray, I grabbed the bar of soap and sudsed up my hands then ran them over his chest and arms, giving the area around his bandage a wide berth so I didn’t accidentally get it wet. When I let my hands wander over his abdomen and lower, he grabbed my wrist before I could get to where he was hard for me. He took the soap from me and scrubbed the rest of himself in under a minute.
Then his attention was focused directly on me, and I couldn’t look away.
He switched our positions so my head was under the spray, and I closed my eyes as I let the hot water beat down on me. Using his good arm, he reached up and brushed the hair back from my face, then grabbed the shampoo and poured some directly on my hair before he started working it into a lather. I tried to reach up and help him, knowing how difficult it probably was to do one-handed.
“Let me,” he said, his voice low and gritty. His eyes were concentrated on me, on the wound at my hairline—the one that looked worse than it felt. “If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him myself for hurting you.”
And he would, too. Of that I had no doubt. The conviction in his voice just reiterated how much he would do for me. Reiterated that he’d always be there to make sure I was safe. That he’d do anything to see me happy. That I’d never have to go through anything on my own again. Not if I didn’t want to.
His fingers were gentle, delicate, as they brushed over the place where my throat was sore, where Frankie had choked me. Then he trailed them over the rest of my body. There was nothing sexual about it, despite the fact that his cock was straining toward me. He washed me, cleansed me of not only the dirt and grime that had accumulated on my body, but the emotional weight that I’d carried with me as well.
When the soap was rinsed from both of us, Riley turned off the shower and reached out to grab a towel for me. He tried as best he could to dry me off with one arm, trying so hard to take care of me, even though he was the one with the bullet wound. Once I was able to wrest it from him, he grabbed one for himself, quickly and efficiently drying off.
“Shit, I can’t even wrap a goddamn towel around myself.”
I knew he was frustrated, knew how hard it must be for him not to be able to do everything for himself when he’d done so for so long. But even knowing that, I couldn’t help but chuckle as I stared at his naked backside.
He looked at me over his shoulder, his eyes darting down to take in the towel I’d covered up with. “You find that funny, do you?”
Trying to suppress a smile, I shrugged. “A little.”
Before I could stop him, he reached out and snatched the towel from around my chest, letting it pool at my feet. He mimicked my shrug, then said, “Fair’s fair.”
I didn’t protest, standing in front of him naked as I tended to his wound, getting a clean bandage on him. Once he had a fresh dressing on the wound and he’d slipped one of his shirts over my head, he pulled me into his bed, tucking me into his good side. We lay together, much like we had right before we’d gotten the call from Gage. The call that had set everything in motion. And even though it hadn’t gone ideally, hadn’t gone how any of us had initially planned, I couldn’t regret it. Because Max was dead and Riley was safe and I was in his arms.
We were quiet for a while as Riley ran his hand up and down my arm, his fingers slowing down until eventually they stopped and I knew sleep would come for him any second. Instead of succumbing to it, he asked, “What now?” His voice was heavy, just a whispered breath between us.
Running my hand over his stomach, I said, “Now you need to get some sleep. It’s not every day you get shot.”
He squeezed my hip, turning his head toward mine, his nose nestled in my damp hair as he inhaled deeply. “I don’t mean tonight. I mean tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.” His once-relaxed body was now tight under my caressing hand. “You can do whatever you want. You don’t have to be hidden away as Genevieve anymore.”
I could do anything. Go anywhere. Be anyone. I could move to Phoenix or Portland or stay right here in Chicago. I could utilize the degree I’d gotten and actually do something I liked with my life … I could go into investigative journalism like I’d always wanted.
I could be with Riley.
“Just sleep. Don’t worry about it right now. We can talk about it more tomorrow.”
But as Riley’s breathing evened out, his body going lax, I knew I wouldn’t need till tomorrow to make a decision. Because there wasn’t one to make. There’d never been one to make.
I only wanted to be one place with one person, and while I was there, I wanted to be the version of myself he brought out in me. The version he reminded me I could be.
Thinking about my life in Minneapolis, the one waiting for me, the one I’d set up so perfectly, only filled me with a sense of dread. Because it wasn’t there I wanted to be. It wasn’t Eric’s arm I wanted to be attached to for the rest of my life. My home wasn’t a fancy house, living there while attending fund-raisers and brushing elbows with some of the wealthiest people around.
It was wherever Riley was.
* * *
After Riley’s breaths had evened out enough that I was certain he was asleep, I slipped out from under his arm and crept into the living room, looking for his phone. I found it on the counter by his keys and picked it up. I stared at the small rectangle, thinking about what I was about to do. What making this call would mean. There was no going back after this. No do-overs. If I did this, it was final.
I brushed my thumb up and down the screen, then powered it up. After navigating to the call screen, I took a deep breath as I dialed the number I’d memorized.
Three rings later, a deep voice answered. “Hello?”
I paused, closing my eyes. Then I said, “It’s me.”
“Gen?” Eric asked immediately. “Are you all right? What’s happened?”
I blew out a huff of laughter and shook my head. What hadn’t happened? Since I’d last spoken to Eric, I’d been on a roller coaster, my entire world flipping and spinning and dropping into a free fall. Instead of saying any of that, I settled simply on, “It’s done. We’re not in danger anymore. Riley made sure I was okay.”
“And you’re still not going to tell me what’s going on?”
“I can’t, Eric. I don’t want you involved any more than you absolutely have to be. I never wanted you to get caught up in the crossfire, and it’s safer if you don’t know any details, even if I don’t have any reason to believe it’d ever come back to haunt either of us. I just want to keep you as safe as I can.”
He hummed in acknowledgment, then was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Is this good-bye then?”
“Eric…”
“No, Gen, don’t. Don’t feel guilty. Is this what you want? Is Riley the life you want?”
Without hesitation, I answered, “Yes.”
“Then that’s all I need to know—that this is what you want. That he’s what you want. I’d never want to keep you from that. I just want you to be happy.”
“I want you to be happy, too.” My voice was wobbly when I said it, but this was breaking my heart. Eric had been my only friend for so long. And he had been a friend. My best friend, one who may not have known the true person I was, but who accepted the bits I’d shown him.
He sighed heavily, and I could picture him in his fancy hotel suite in London, pacing the floor with his hand in the pocket of his suit pants. Looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Me, too. And I’m working on it. Figured if you can be brave, maybe I can, too.”
I smiled at that, his words warming my heart. Then I thought about everything that was paid for and in place: the wedding dress that I’d already purchased, the vendors who’d already been paid, the reception hall that had already been reserved. And he was going to have to deal with it entirely on his own. “What’ll you tell your parents?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll figure it out. You just focus on yourself, okay?”
I swallowed the lump that was suddenly filling my throat. I tried to stop my voice from quavering, but didn’t quite manage. “Will I talk to you again?”
“If you want to.”
“I do.”
“Then we will. Whenever you want. You know how to reach me, Gen.”
I was quiet for a moment, then I said good-bye once and for all to the manufactured me. The one who hid from her troubles instead of facing them. “It’s actually Evie.”
He hummed, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Suits you.”
I smiled at that, feeling lighter than I had in longer than I could remember. “I’ll talk to you soon, Eric.”
“Good-bye, Evie.”
I hung up and placed Riley’s phone back on the counter, then walked down the hall and into his bedroom. He was still sound asleep on his back, his head turned to where I’d been lying before I’d slipped out. I crawled onto the bed and slid under the covers, tucking myself up against his side. As soon as I was close enough, his arm settled around me, holding me tightly to him. He dipped his head until his lips rested against my forehead. I felt his mouth move against my skin as he breathed, “Stay with me.”
I ran my hands over his smooth skin, tracing the parts of him I’d memorized so long ago. He was my past, the tiny flicker of light in a sea of darkness. He was my present, when everything was jumbled and uncertain, but where I’d be able to figure it out if I was with him. And I knew, with utter certainty, he was my future.
Pressing my lips over his chest, I answered his plea. “I will.”
