Risk (Gentry Boys #2) (14 page)

Any other fight would have been called by now.  The announcer seemed ready to do just that.  He stepped forward and licked his pink lips.  But the man who’d been chatting with Gabe earlier held up a hand.  My stomach turned.  I had seen the look in Jester’s face.  I recognized it.  It was pleasure in cruelty.  Emilio was coughing and spitting blood on the ground while clutching his crushed knee.  He was virtually defenseless at this point.  Yet the announcer hesitated to call the fight because his boss had made a sign.  Jester saw an opportunity and took it.  He kneeled down, whispered something in Emilio’s ear, causing the man to jerk with furious panic.  Then he pulled his fist back and sent it crashing into the back of Emilio’s skull.  I closed my eyes at the sound of the crack.  Emilio’s head had been only inches from the concrete of the rooftop.  A hard blow like that would smash every bone in his face on impact, possibly crush his skull. 

When I opened my eyes again Jester was walking calmly back to his corner.  There were a few horrified gasps followed by excited chatter as the crowd forgot the reality of the bleeding man at their feet. 

The announcer stood over Emilio’s body.  I stared but I wasn’t sure whether he was breathing.  A few security guards emerged and began unfolding a stretcher.  I didn’t want to see the mess that was about to be loaded onto it.  As I walked quickly to the exit door I was relieved to hear a soft groan from Emilio.  It sounded pitiful but it meant he was still alive. 

I didn’t know what made me turn around before I opened the door to the stairwell.  But I did turn around and saw Jester staring at me.  He had a towel draped casually over his neck.  He pointed a finger in my direction, the meaning clear. 

You. 

My chest burned as I hustled down the stairs and through the corridor.  I wasn’t waiting for the elevator and took the stairs three at a time all the way to the ground floor.  As I burst into the lobby the guard on duty stood up sharply but I blew right past him and out the door.  I felt like I couldn’t breathe right again until I was in my truck and out on the freeway. 

The whole thing was gruesome; the crowd, the money, the blood.  It was a fucking disgusting spectacle.  It didn’t belong among civilized people. 

I wanted a drink.  I wanted ten of them.  I wanted to kick something solid until it was dust.  Instead I drove home. 

The apartment was dark.  I was surprised to realize it was only slightly later than ten because I felt as if the night had gone on forever.  Cord must have walked over to the restaurant to greet Saylor as she ended her shift.  I checked Chase’s room but it looked as if he hadn’t been home at all. 

My guitar was in its usual spot in the living room.  I picked it up, tuning the strings absently, remembering how I had promised Truly that I would sing for her soon.  Waking up to her sweet voice this morning was like waking up to the music of angels.  Then seeing her there in her kitchen – stunning, barefoot, with a song on her lips – was like the answer to every fantasy I never even fucking knew I had. 

I set the guitar down.  The walls felt too close in here.  I stepped onto the dark patio and sat down on the weight bench, listening to faint laughter and conversations of passersby.   

I was glad now that Cord and Chase hadn’t seen what I saw tonight.   They would have been as sick about it as I was, maybe more.

The sliding glass door was open a few inches so I could hear Saylor and Cord walk through the front door.  They were arguing, which was unusual for them. 

“-can’t hide from it all,” Saylor was saying. 

“I’m not fucking hiding from anything.” 

“You wouldn’t even listen to what I had to say about Chase.  You just got pissed off at me and turned your back.” 

“Chase is fine.”

“Chase is NOT FINE!”

They were closer, in the kitchen.  Cord’s tone was low and irritable.  “You think after a few months you know my brothers better than I do?  Let me tell you something honey, you’ll never know a tenth of what’s between them and me.”

“You want to know what I think?  I think you’ve got your head up your ass right now.  Creed’s about to risk his neck in some medieval blood brawl and Chase can’t go six hours away from whatever garbage he’s addicted to.  Cord, they’re both in trouble, bad trouble.”

“Dammit Saylor, enough!”  Cord’s voice was raw with emotion. 

They were silent for a full minute.  Then I heard the horrible noise of my brother sobbing with great big heartbreaking gasps.

“Cordero,” Saylor said in a soft voice and I pictured her taking him in her arms.  I was glad she was there to do it. 

“I love you, Say,” he choked out.  Their embrace soon turned passionate.  They comforted each other with sex and vows of love.  It wasn’t something meant for me to hear.  I jumped over the patio wall and left them behind. 

They’d never even know I’d been there. 

Truly

After I left Creed in front of his apartment I felt a little hollowed out.  I believed him when he said he wasn’t all bent out of shape over another girl, but
something
was troubling him.  And whatever it was, he didn’t feel like sharing it. 

“Get a handle on it, Truly,” I grumbled.  I was irritated with my own disappointment.  Creed didn’t owe me anything, not really.  The time we’d spent together had been nothing short of incredible but we hadn’t exactly pledged our undying love to each another.  I drove the short distance back to my apartment in a funk.

Usually an evening to myself was a gift.  I loved curling up with Dolly to read, watch a movie or do anything to pass the hours quietly and happily.  I craved that kind of peace tonight but knew I wouldn’t find it. I craved something else more. 

“I’m starting to like you too much.”

“Who says?”

Stephanie was sitting in the unlit kitchen when I walked in.  She had Dolly in her lap, which was strange because usually she paid as much attention to my cat as she paid to everyone else.  In other words, virtually none. 

“Hey Steph,” I said as Dolly jumped off her lap. 

My roommate looked at me.  We’d shared the same apartment for the better part of a year and I barely knew her.  She was from New York, didn’t talk about her family at all, and didn’t mention to me that her twenty first birthday had passed until a month after it happened.  She was always talking to people, yet seemed to have no friends.  It had occurred to me that perhaps the reason I’d adapted so easily to Creed’s stoic nature was because I’d become used to seeing it every day in her. 

“Hey,” she answered in a lackluster tone. 

I paused.  It hadn’t taken us long to adopt a routine.  We greeted one another when our paths crossed.  Sometimes we had short conversations.  But I wouldn’t describe us as friends. We didn’t joke around and seek out each other’s company like Saylor and I did.  Suddenly that made me sad. 

Stephanie brushed a lock of her curly blonde hair across her lips as she watched me sit in the opposite chair.  She was wearing her glasses, which she rarely did.  I had no idea what the hell was going on in that girl’s head as we stared at each other across the table. 

“No boy tonight?” she asked. 

“Doesn’t look like it,” I answered.  “What about you?”

Her eyebrows furrowed.  “What about me?”

“Do you ever have nights with boys?”

She smiled.  “Are you asking me if I
like
boys?”

I held up my hands.  “Not judging.  Like whomever you want.  I was just curious because I didn’t know the answer.” 

Stephanie looked out the kitchen window.  “I like boys,” she said faintly. 

“Any one in particular?”

“No,” she answered in a flat tone.  Then she sighed.  I couldn’t shake the feeling something heavy was weighing on her mind. Lately she’d been even more brusque than usual.   If Creed were here they could glare at one another in tight-lipped silence.   It would be a hard fought contest of stubborn detachment. 

Stephanie cleared her throat suddenly.  “Where are you from, Truly?  I never asked.” 

I didn’t know what prompted this sudden fit of interest but I decided not to question it.  “I was born in Louisiana.  Then for seventeen years I did time in various parts of Georgia, both Carolinas, Florida, Alabama, Arkansas and Mississippi.” 

She looked curious.  “Why?”

I shrugged.  “Because we were usually running from a landlord or a shitty man.  Because my mama didn’t like to let roots gather under her feet.  And because she never let our need for stability get in the way of doing whatever the hell she wanted.” 

Stephanie nodded slowly when I finished talking.  “I grew up on Long Island.  It’s the only place I’ve ever lived other than here.”  She coughed once.  “I had a nice mother.  She gave me a good childhood.” 

She said these things with a forlorn quality I’d never heard from her before.  I was trying to figure out how to respond when her phone buzzed.  She grimaced when she looked at the screen.  After firing off a quick text she rose from the table. 

“Problem?” I asked, noting the angry look on her face. 

“Client,” she answered curtly.  “I’ve got to go.” 

She disappeared into her bedroom.  I stayed at the table and listened to her crash around on the other side of the wall for a few minutes.  When she emerged she was wearing a dark oversized sweatshirt even though it was over ninety degrees out. 

“See ya,” she grunted with a wave.  I figured that was likely the end of any heartfelt communication for at least a month or two.  I wondered what kind of ‘client’ she had.  Then I deliberated whether my roommate might be a prostitute. 

I was restless.  For a while I just wandered around the apartment, aimlessly tidying the place.  I peeked into Stephanie’s room.  It was messy, as usual. 

After changing into a pair of gym shorts and a plain white t-shirt I took the rest of the gumbo out of the fridge.  I ate it right out of the container and thought about the Gentry boys.  Both Creed and Chase had seemed so strangely pleased by the simple act of someone preparing food for them, as if no one had ever done so before.  I’d listened to Saylor describe what the boys were like growing up.  They were all, including Cord, a pack of wild rogues from a rotten family.  As they grew to manhood they had been feared as much as they were desired.  Saylor was now deeply in love with Cord and she treated his brothers with sisterly affection.  Those three might be a little rough yet, but I was starting to realize what she already knew; they were all decent men who were eager to be loved. 

I washed out the gumbo container and then decided the entire kitchen could use a good scrubbing.  From there I moved on to the living room and then the bathroom. Two hours later the place was immaculate.  But all that activity didn’t force Creed Gentry out of my thoughts. 

With a sigh I sought out my phone.  Saylor would still be at work and there wasn’t really anyone else I could call to discuss my infatuation, which in truth was beginning to overpower me.  On a whim I called my sister Carrie.  Her voicemail answered with the same bubbly voice I used to hear everyday.  I didn’t leave a message.  There was no way to reach Mia up there on some off-the-grid farm in the Pacific Northwest.  And after my last awkward conversation with Aggie, I wasn’t willing to risk the forlorn feeling that had bothered me for days afterward.

I stared at my phone, wondering how things would go if I dialed anyway, if I blurted out everything I should have told her four years ago.  I put the phone down.  It would be selfish at this point.  I would only be sharing the burden of my own pain because I couldn’t carry it by myself anymore. 

I didn’t call her.  I tossed the phone on the coffee table.  If I had lived alone with it all this time then I could keep on going just like that. It was
my
cross to bear.

Dolly jumped on the couch next to me as I curled my legs underneath my body and picked up a shabby pillow.  I toyed with the remote and then put it down, not feeling much interested in television.  I used to love to read.  When I was a teenager I would blow through about eight romance novels a week.  I couldn’t wait for the day when the things happening in those pages would happen to me.  I was still waiting.  I’d finally learned not to mistake sex for love but I hadn’t seen what love looked like for myself.  I was afraid I’d always be on the outside looking in. 

The knock on the door was loud.  Sometimes drunks would roll out of a party and get lost, banging on doors until someone answered.  Cautiously I peered through the peephole.  Creed stood on the other side of it, his head down. 

My heart rate immediately doubled.  I glanced down quickly at my messy clothing.  I wasn’t even wearing a bra and although Creed never seemed troubled by the sight of my breasts, I knew the loose ponytail, nylon shorts and grubby t-shirt were rather tacky.

“Didn’t expect to see you again tonight,” I said easing the door back slowly. 

He pushed it open the rest of the way and grabbed me. 

“Wait,” I gasped, struggling to close the door as his hands went down my shorts, “Creed, hold on.” 

“Why?” he growled, slamming the door shut and then pulling his shirt off. 

I circled away from him, even though I was already shaken up from the brief touch of his hands.  I wanted him like I always wanted him.  Still, it annoyed me that he just came barging in here to silently demand sex. 

“You don’t call,” I said angrily, my thighs squeezing together to suppress the fresh ache.  “You don’t even say, ‘Hello’.  You just show up here at eleven pm like I’m some fast piece of action you can ride.”

He stared down at me, breathing heavily.  I wanted to feel the solid heat of his tanned chest.  I wanted him to take me anyway.  Instead he pulled his phone out of his back pocket.  I’d left my own phone on the coffee table and it buzzed loudly. 

I put my hands on my hips and glared at him.  “What the hell are you doing?”

He just stared at me silently with his phone to his ear as mine continued to ring. 

I picked my phone up. 

“Hello, Truly,” he said into the phone, his eyes boring into me from six feet away. 

“Hi Creedence,” I answered, meeting his gaze.

“Can I come over to fuck you until you scream and then fall asleep on your tits?”

Creed you know I’m so full of shit and that you don’t really have to ask.   

“Yes-“ I started to say and that was enough for him.  Creed threw his phone down and was on me, pulling my shirt up and fastening his mouth to my breasts.  I was in ecstasy immediately, pushing his head against me harder as he ripped my shirt over my head.  I felt myself falling but he caught me and we clumsily wound up on our knees.  His hands were inside of me, and then his tongue went there too.  Creed Gentry got me stripped naked and on my back as he loomed over me like a golden mythological god. 

“Creed,” I whispered, reaching for him, wanting badly to feel what he was keeping just out of my reach.  He held my hips in his hands, his wild blue eyes scouring every inch of me before he reached between my legs. 

“No,” I whimpered as he brought me higher with the steady rhythm of his fingers.  “You, I want
you
!”

“Hush, baby.  I just want to watch you come first.”

I didn’t keep him waiting long.  He’d already learned everything there was to know about my body and the shattering pleasure found me quickly.  Afterwards he got on top, covering me completely with his hard flesh.  I was still ripe, completely ready to have him inside me.  I was about to begin pulling off his pants whether he wanted me to or not when he let out a sad sigh and moved his cheek to my shoulder. 

The back of his neck was hot as I ran my fingers over it, then into his hair.  His arms snaked underneath my body to pull me more tightly against him.  I knew something was wrong and I was about to ask him to tell me about it.  But that wasn’t the way Creedence worked.  He would tell his stories in his own time, in his own way. 

“It’s too bright in here,” he muttered suddenly and then gathered me into his arms.  He carried me into my room and set me down on the bed. 

“I thought you liked it in the light,” I said, watching him strip off his pants in the near darkness. 

“Sometimes,” he answered, pushing his rigid dick against my soft belly.  “Sometimes not.” 

I put my hand on him, wrapping him inside my palm as he groaned.  “What do you want, Creed?” 

He was pushing against my hand, breathing hard.  “Right now?”

“Yes.  Right now.” 

“Put me in your mouth.” 

I’d never liked it, the act of having a man shove himself between my lips and stay there for an eternity.  But I loved it with Creed.  I loved licking the solid length and then surprising him by lightly sucking his balls.  He inhaled sharply, grabbing my hair hard, and I loved that too. 

Later, after we’d enjoyed each other in a few more creative ways, his head was pillowed on my breasts as my fingers lazily roamed over his sweaty back. 

“Creedence?”

“Yeah, Tallulah.”

I smiled.  “You made a promise to me.”  

He lifted his head and waited for me to explain. 

“You promised that I would hear you sing.” 

“Mmmm.”  He rolled over to his back and yawned.  “Can’t.  I don’t have my guitar.” 

I scoffed.  “And no one in the history of time
ever
sang a note without a guitar.” 

He mulled that over.  Then he sat up and leaned against the wall.  “Come here.” 

Creed pulled me against his chest so that I was facing away.  He kept one arm wrapped across the front of my shoulders.  I felt him take a deep breath. 

Saylor had told me Creed could sing extremely well.  I believed it; even the low rumble of his speaking voice had a commanding quality to it. But nothing prepared me for the raw, beautiful sound of the music he made.  After a moment I recognized the song he was singing.  It was a soulful rendition of
‘Have You Ever Seen the Rain’
.  I wondered if he’d chosen it because of the name of the group it belonged to.  I’d heard quite a bit of live singing over the years.  Much of it was rote, perfunctory.  What Creedence was able to do with a song was a rare thing.  All the hard-headed reserve he usually covered himself with was gone.  He felt every note he sang.  He made me feel it all too.