Cade Creek 11 - Race Against Time (3 page)

“Race Tuff?”

Fear slammed into Race as he turned to face the man with the deep rumbly voice that made his cock jerk in his jeans. Oh man, it was one of the hotties.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a shaky voice. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

The man’s dark eyebrow rose as he looked Race up and down. There was an unsettling flare to his nostrils as if he didn’t like what he was seeing. “I don’t think so.”

Race took a hasty step back. He needed to put enough space between him and these men that he could get away if he needed to. Even as he took a step back he knew it was futile. These guys were huge, and he was injured. If they truly wanted to catch him, he’d have no chance at escaping.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, little man,” the taller of the two men said. “Dorian sent us.”

Race cautiously eyed the two men, wondering if he could believe them. He wanted to believe them. He wanted to believe that these two gorgeous men were on the up and up, that they wouldn’t ruin his fantasy by trying to kill him, or worse.

Besides, he was just too damn tired to run.

One of the men pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Hey, it’s Ari. We found your friend, but he’s a little freaked.” Dark eyes strayed to Race, staring intently. “I don’t think he trusts us.”

A moment later, the man was holding the cell phone out to Race. “It’s for you.”

In order to take the phone, Race would have to step closer to the two men. As he knew he would never escape if they decided to go after him, there didn’t seem to be any point in not taking the phone.

Gathering up his courage, Race stepped as close as he dared and grabbed the phone. He breathed in deeply as he held the phone to his ear, afraid to hear who was on the other end. “Hello?”

“Race?”

Race’s relief was so great, he started to crumble right there on the spot. Strong arms grabbed him and held him up. “Dorian?”

“Hey, buddy,” Dorian said. “I wasn’t able to get to the airport in time to meet your plane. Ari and Vinnie were in the city attending some training. They offered to pick you up and bring you back to Cade Creek. You can trust them, Race. I promise.”

“Okay.” The tears that had flooded his eyes when he heard Dorian’s voice slowly began to trickle down his cheeks. Race turned and buried his face in the massive chest next to him. He absently found it strange that he was chest level with the other man when he was standing up straight. It was disconcerting.

“It’s okay, Race,” the man murmured to him. “We’ll keep you safe.”

Race shuddered. He doubted what the stranger said was true, but it was nice hearing it anyway. Knowing he was making a fool of himself in front of two men he’d rather be seen as calm, cool, and collected, Race pushed away from the arms that held him. He wiped at the tears on his cheeks and then faced the two men.

“I’m sorry.” Apologizing for his behavior seemed like the thing to do. He had basically accused these two men of lying to him and trying to hurt him, of being dishonorable.” It’s been a long couple of days.”

The taller of the two looked at the neon-green cast on Race’s right arm. “Yes, I imagine it has. Maybe you should tell us how that happened?”

“Let it go, Vinnie,” the other man said. “Our only priority right now is getting Race out of the airport and home safe back in Cade Creek.”

Vinnie’s jaw clenched. Race held his breath as he waited to see what he would do. Vetted by Dorian or not, Race had no idea how the guy would react when he didn’t get his way. In Race’s experience, most men didn’t react well. The neon-green cast on his arm was a perfect example of that.

“You’re right, Ari.” Vinnie’s gaze came up and started scanning the crowd. Race knew what he was doing. He’d seen Dorian and Bear do it. Vinnie had some sort of military background. He was searching for signs of danger.

“Come on, little man,” Ari said. “Let’s get you out to the truck.”

Race nodded, keeping a close eye on…just about everything. His eyes darted left and right, pinning on every person they passed. His nerves were strung bow tight. He knew if he spotted anyone that could be working for Terrence, he was going to run screaming from the airport.

“Who are we looking for, Race?” Ari asked.

Race should have known his uneasiness and scanning wouldn’t go unnoticed by these two professionals. “Thugs,” he said in a whispered tone. “Irish thugs.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “Irish thugs?”

Race nodded. “Most likely dressed in fancy suits.”

Terrence demanded that the men who worked for him be dressed in the best. He seemed to think that wearing an expensive suit made them more intimidating to those that fell under their scrutiny. They were right, but not because of that. The fancy suits allowed Terrence’s thugs to hide their guns.

Vinnie kept an arm wrapped around Race’s waist as they walked through the airport, Ari leading the way. That was probably a good thing. As fast as they were moving, Race didn’t know if he could keep up. His legs felt like rubber.

“Not too much farther, Race,” Vinnie murmured out of the corner of his mouth. “Just keep it together a little longer.”

Not until Vinnie spoke did Race realize he was shaking. He breathed deeply, and then blew the breath out, trying to calm his nerves. He wasn’t in a place where he could fall apart, not yet. He needed to wait until he got to Cade Creek and the safety of the former motorcycle club leader. Dorian would keep him safe enough to fall apart.

Race never realized until that moment how lucky he had been to come to the interest of Dorian James and be invited to join his motorcycle club. He never dreamed Dorian was anything other than what he said—a badass biker—but even believing the man was a criminal, he still respected him. Dorian had become the big brother Race never had.

If Dorian hadn’t invited Race to join the Dirty Dozen, he could very well be dead right now. Dorian had apparently seen something in him worth saving. Race wished he knew what in the hell that something was.

He never quite understood why Dorian had even talked to him that fateful day five years ago, but it had changed his life. Now, he just needed to get back to the man so he could continue to live that life.

“Do you have a bag?” Ari asked.

“Huh?”

Ari pointed to the sign hanging down from the ceiling that said “Baggage Claim” and had an arrow pointing down to the escalators that went to the floor below.

Race shook his head as he held up his small carry-on bag. “This is all I have.”

They veered toward the main doors and then made their way outside. Race was kind of just going along with the flow. He didn’t know where Vinnie and Ari had parked or even what they were driving. Ari said it was a truck.

By the time they reached level four of the parking garage, Race was ready to give up. When the elevator doors slid open, Race just stared at them. He didn’t have the energy to move, not even a step. Breathing was starting to become optional. The pain in his side served only to remind him that his ribs were bruised. Walking, let alone breathing, had become too much. Sweat gathered on Race’s forehead, and some was trickling down his back. Race felt flushed and winded. If he didn’t sit down soon, he would fall down.

“Race?” Ari asked, concern apparent in his soft tone.

Race turned his head to look at the man. “I…”

“Catch him!” Ari shouted as he dove forward. “He’s going down.”

Race wasn’t sure which man caught him, but he was suddenly swung up in someone’s arms. He closed his eyes and turned his face toward the broad chest he was cradled against. He imagined he could stay right there for the rest of his days—however long that was—and be happy.

“I’ve got you,
passerotto
.”

Race looked up to see deep brown eyes staring back at him. “Sorry.”

“
Non c’èproblema
.”

“Huh?”

“It is no problem,
passerotto
.”

“Pass…pass…what?”

Vinnie chuckled. “
Passerotto
,” he said. “It means little sparrow.”

“Little sparrow?”

“You remind me of a sparrow, Race. You are small, but scrappy, flying away to another world.”

Um…okay. Race really didn’t know what to think about that, so he decided not to worry about it at the moment. Besides, he had other things to worry about, like the throbbing in his head.

Race closed his eyes and turned his face back toward Vinnie’s chest. Not only did the man smell freaking fantastic, but it was easier to keep his eyes closed and pretend the world around him didn’t exist, even if it was just for a little while.

He knew when they reached the truck because they stopped, and then a vehicle door opened. He opened his eyes when he was passed from one set of arms to another. Ari lifted him up and placed him in the backseat beside him before pulling him back down to lay with his head on Ari’s lap.

“Do you have any pain meds, little man?”

“The doctor gave me a prescription, but I haven't had time to fill it yet. I took the ones they gave me at the emergency room on the plane.”

“Get us home, Vinnie,” the man said as he took a blanket Vinnie held out to him and spread it out over Race. Before pulling the blanket up all of the way, he buckled the seat belt around Race’s waist. “Close your eyes, Race. We’ll wake you when we reach Cade Creek.”

Race closed his eyes, but he doubted he would get any sleep. He heard another door open and close and then the vehicle started up. The soft rumble of the motor eased the tension in his shoulder as much as the hand gently stroking through his hair did.

He didn’t understand how he could allow someone to touch him so intimately when he had suffered nothing but pain at the hands of others so recently. The touch was surprisingly soothing. Race quickly found himself breathing out, the tension that had been holding him together fading away.

When he shattered, hands were there to catch him. When he cried, fingers carefully wiped them away. When his eyelids fluttered closed, the blanket was tucked around him and he was held gently by strong arms. He fell asleep to soft words whispered against his hair.

* * * *

“Wake up, Race. We’re home.” The words were whispered by the same voice that had soothed him to sleep.

Race’s eyelids fluttered open and he found himself staring up into eyes the color of dark chocolate kisses. He couldn’t look away. It wasn’t the concern he saw in them that held him so spellbound, but the desire lurking behind them.

“We’re home,
passerotto
.”

“Race, my name is Race.”

The man smiled as he pushed some strands of hair back from Race’s face. “I think Vinnie was right the first time. You are a little sparrow, ready to take flight.”

Race wasn’t sure how he felt about being called little anything, but he wasn’t in much shape to argue, at least not yet. Maybe when he was healed. Maybe not.

“Where are we?” he asked when he realized the vehicle wasn’t moving.

“We’ve reached our destination,” Vinnie said from the front seat.

Race turned to see the man twisted around in the front seat, staring back at him. He started to sit up, but a lance of hot pain made him cry out and flop back down on Ari’s lap. He cradled his right arm to his chest, wishing he had remembered the damn thing was broken instead of trying to use it to sit up.

“Careful there, Race.”

Race breathed through the pain until the throbbing stopped. “I’m okay,” he finally said.

“Okay, sit up slowly,” Ari said. “Let me help you.”

It was a lot easier to sit up with Ari helping him. “Thank you,” Race said once he was sitting up in the seat, facing forward again.

“You’re more than welcome,
passerotto
.”

Race looked around, and then gave a little sob when he realized they were sitting in front of the little Craftsman-style bungalow Dorian and Artie had purchased right before he left for the big city.

“I’m home,” he whispered as the weight that had been holding him down for so very long started to lift. He could breathe again.

The sight of Dorian stepping out the front door and walking to the edge of the porch brought tears to Race’s eyes. The large man leaned against the porch post, his hands shoved in his pockets. His stance was casual, but Race knew the man saw everything. He always did.

Race suddenly had an overwhelming need to be in the big man’s arms. He whimpered as he scooted toward the door, aggravating the bruises on his body.

“Slow down, Race.” Vinnie jumped out of the front seat and opened the back door. He reached in, and Race gratefully took the hand he held out. Scooting out of the back of the truck was a little easier after that. It still hurt, but Race could breathe.

When his feet finally touched the ground, Race turned and made his way to the house, and the one man he knew beyond belief could keep him safe. “Dorian,” he whispered as he stopped at the bottom of the steps.

There was a strong clench to Dorian’s jaw, a pulse ticking along the jawline. “You’re looking a little worse for wear there, Race.”