Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)(72)

I stared at her for a moment then burst into laughter.

“Golden” Garrett Davenport had ruined my night. I’d spent half of it in a fit of rage, willing to take out my own brother if it meant I got my hands on him for even one minute.

Yet, somehow, I was going to fall asleep sated, with Liv safe in my arms, a smile on my face, and an overwhelming sense of contentment filling my veins.

And, if I had any say over it, this would happen…

Every. Single. Day.




My entire body went stiff, and Eliza’s eyes grew impossibly wider as he roughly shoved, sending me scrambling forward. Just as quickly, he grabbed Eliza and dragged her to the door.

“No!” I jumped to my feet.

He had no f*cking business even talking to her, but I’d kill him before I let him hurt her.

“Get your f*cking hands off her! You’re not taking her anywhere!” I rushed forward.

I heard Eliza screaming with every step, but adrenaline fueled me.

She was ours. I wouldn’t let him have her.

“Oh, for f*ck’s sake.” He spun Eliza to the side just as I got close, sending her crashing to the ground.

I landed a blow to his side, but his hand folded around my throat and the cold, metal butt of his gun landed hard against my face. Pain exploded as someone dimmed the lights.

I felt my body crash onto the floor, but then everything changed.

I wasn’t thirteen.

I wasn’t in Vegas.

And it wasn’t Frankie dragging out Eliza.

Right before my eyes, Liv appeared in Davenport’s arms.

Her long, dark hair cascaded over his shoulder as he tipped a gun to her temple.

Her big, brown eyes were wide and filled with a fear I had never seen before—and would never be able to forget.

Her mouth opened, but it wasn’t her voice that came out. Well, at least, not the one I’d come to know. It was the sound of twelve-year-old Liv screaming from behind a closet door.

And it was like a knife to my gut—only worse.

“Get up, Page!” Davenport taunted, pressing the gun deeper into her flesh.

I couldn’t move though. I was paralyzed, unable to even blink.

Liv’s scream continued in one long continuous cry, and Davenport laughed wildly as I sat immobile on the ground.

A flash of movement caught my attention, drawing my eyes away from Liv. Then a weight so heavy that I thought my chest would break hit me. I saw Mia’s body seizing on the floor, her hands flailing wildly until one landed in a pool of blood. My heart lurched as I followed it up to Flint’s lifeless body. His cold, dead stare somehow managed to remain filled with quiet disappointment.

My lungs burned, and regardless how hard I fought, I couldn’t catch my breath.

Liv’s scream suddenly cut off, snapping my attention back to her. She was still being held captive in Davenport’s arms, only now the fear was gone and a tender smile covered her beautiful adult face. Her voice was still that of Liv the child as she uttered the familiar words, “I’m safe with you, Quarry.”

Davenport pulled the trigger.

Drenched in sweat, I shot up in bed. My stomach rolled, and bile crept up my throat. I scrambled over Liv and into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before throwing up.

I was vaguely aware of the light coming on and then a cool, damp washcloth being pressed against the back of my neck.

“I’m safe with you, Quarry,” echoed through my deaf ears.

My stomach heaved again. Oh, God.

Closing my eyes, I attempted to breathe, but visions of my nightmare projected on the backs of my eyelids made it impossible.

I had a minor success and managed to stop puking. Shifting back against the side of the bathtub, I took the cloth from her hand and used it to wipe my mouth.

Liv squatted in front of me. Just the sight of her opened my airway and breathed me back to life.

“Feeling sick?” she signed.

“I… Fuck.” I gave up and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a hard hug.

She came willingly, even straddling my lap to allow me more contact. I was naked, and she was only wearing my oversized T-shirt, but I wasn’t sure my cock would ever get hard again after a nightmare like that.

She let me hold her for several minutes before she finally leaned away. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I answered curtly, tucking her face into my neck and ending any further discussion.

Fucking hell. What had just happened inside my head?

I closed my eyes, but the vision of that gun at her temple leveled me and caused my stomach to heave again. She scrambled off my lap, but I didn’t move back to the toilet. Nor did I close my eyes again.

Staring blankly up at the ceiling, I felt her dab another cool washcloth across my forehead.

Lifting her hands into my line of sight, she asked, “You want me to get you something to drink?”

I wanted a lobotomy.

I shook my head at her question.

“You want to try to get back in bed? I can get a trash can in case you get sick again.”

No. I never wanted to go get in that bed again for the rest of my life. Insomnia had never been so appealing. That dream…

What time is it? I silently signed, because I didn’t trust my voice.

She leaned out of the bathroom door to find the clock. “Five.”