Rome (Marked Men #3)(79)
As tempting as it was to just grab a bottle of vodka and disappear into the back room and drown my sorrows, I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere, so I just made sure I kept busy and tried to avoid snapping anyone’s head off needlessly. Asa was watching me closely and running pretty good interference for me. I didn’t know why everyone else thought he was such a shady character; so far he had done nothing but have my back. I would even consider him a friend at this point, so when I got a text from Cora at ten telling me she was in the parking lot and wanted to talk, I just nodded to him even though the bar was packed. The crowd on a Friday night was something to be proud of now, but I was so twisted up about a certain wild-card blonde I didn’t even stop to acknowledge it.
I knew she didn’t want to come in the bar in case I was going to make a scene or because she was worried that I would be unbending and unreasonable. I had given her good cause to believe that, which made me feel like a major jerk. There was no need for her to be cowering in the parking lot like she did something wrong. If she didn’t feel about me the way I felt about her, I was just going to have to accept it and move on. The one thing she had been so instrumental in teaching me was that there was nothing wrong with holding out for what you ultimately decided you deserved. I wanted her, wanted a life with her and the baby, but she needed to want me on the same level or it wasn’t enough.
I saw the bright green car parked next to my truck. When she caught sight of me making my way toward her, she climbed out of the driver’s side and started to make her way toward me. I was going to tell her to just follow me inside, that I would have Darcy make her something to snack on while we talked. I never got the chance because I heard the roar of Harley pipes at the same time all my oh, shit instincts fired up. I saw her head whip around, felt time slow down the way it did when danger and doom were breaking on the horizon, so I did what I had been trained to do. I knew what gunshots sounded like. Knew not to panic, but never had I been so scared. I had been shot at plenty of times. I had never had to worry about someone I loved getting shot, though. It made me move faster than I ever had in my life.
I sprinted across the asphalt like it was made of lava. I got to her right before the first bullet made contact. My head jerked back and blood started immediately rushing down the column of my neck and soaking into the collar of my T-shirt. I saw her wild eyes go huge in her face but didn’t have time to say anything to her. I was lucky she made such a tiny target because the next gunshot didn’t miss either, nor did the next as I took her to the ground under me. I’d been hit with bullets before, but had always had body armor to dull the impact. Bullets tearing through unprotected flesh felt like Satan flicking his tail across bare skin. My flesh burned and the calm night air instantly filled with the coppery scent of my blood. Man, there was a lot of it. I could see it flowing out of me and onto her and the pavement below her. How could have I forgotten there was a pissed-off biker all set to get vengeance on me? Cora shouldn’t have been in that parking lot alone.
I had her whole body under me. Could feel her shaking and whispering my name against my throat. I hoped I hadn’t hit the ground with her too hard, but I couldn’t move to check on her. In fact I knew I needed to get off of her so I wasn’t crushing her into the hard ground, but none of my limbs were obeying my commands. In fact her lovely and beloved face was blurring in and out as breath wheezed in and out of lungs that felt like they were suddenly full of cement. I was suffocating. I was bleeding. I was hurting all over, but she was looking up at me in shock and fear but alive. So full of life and color, and that was all that mattered.
“Cora …” I wanted to tell her I was sorry. That I would never be done with her, not ever, but there wasn’t a way to do that. I was going under. I could feel blood pooling under us. Could feel fire blazing in more than one place from my prone body. I think Cora screamed my name over and over again. I think I heard Asa tell her he was calling for help. I was pretty sure my little pixie had a death grip on me where I covered her, but I couldn’t feel anything. I was also fairly certain my girl was about to watch me die, and the last thing I heard before it all just went absolutely black was her tell me that she loved me over and over again.
“Always have to be the hero, don’t you?”
His tone was kidding, but it had been so long since I had seen him that all I could do was gape at him in shock.
“Rem?”
“Who else? Got yourself in a bit of a pickle, didn’t ya?”
I tried to shake my head, tried to reach out and put my hands on him, but all I could do was just stare at him while he paced back and forth in front of me, hands shoved into the pockets of impeccably pressed, pin-striped pants. He looked good, way better than a guy who had been dead going on five years should.
“You look good, bro.”
He smiled at me. A smile so different from Rule’s, and I felt my heart flip over. I missed him so much.
“I always looked good, Rome. We need to have a serious heart-to-heart, big brother.”
“About what?”
“You.”
“What about me, Remy?”
“You seriously have any doubts over whether I knew, absolutely, without any kind of shadow of a doubt that you loved me, Rome? That you were proud of me?”
I felt something happen in my chest, like lightning burning where my heart should be.
“I should have told you. I shouldn’t have asked you to keep an eye on them. That was selfish.”
Jay Crownover's Books
- Jay Crownover
- Better When He's Brave (Welcome to the Point #3)
- Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)
- Better When He's Bad (Welcome to the Point #1)
- Built (Saints of Denver #1)
- Leveled (Saints of Denver #0.5)
- Asa (Marked Men #6)
- Rowdy (Marked Men #5)
- Nash (Marked Men #4)
- Jet (Marked Men #2)