Better When He's Bad Read online

Page 11


  I wanted to choke him. I stood there and considered whether or not I could actually get away with murder. I should call Brysen. This was out of my wheelhouse and there was no way I was up to going rounds with him like this. He said commit; I didn’t think I could. I was going to find my phone and call Brysen and leave him to his own devices. That’s right; I was going to do the smart thing and walk away. Only his eyes snapped back open and he levered himself up so he was sitting, and he snagged me around my waist, and pulled me down on the bed so I was sprawled across him. His breath was warm and seductive as it whispered across my face.

  “Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

  He stroked his hand all the way along my spine and I let my eyes drift closed. What on earth was I supposed to do now?

  RACE AND BAX MIGHT have grown up together, but they were as opposite as day and night. And not just because my older brother came from a privileged background, and Bax was oh-so-obviously from the streets. It went beyond their light and dark looks as well. I woke up early again, mostly because I was surrounded by brawny, half-naked Bax and he had his hands tangled painfully in my hair. Even in sleep it was like he was struggling, fighting some unseen enemy, and that made my heart hurt for him. Race slept like a baby. He sprawled out, snored, and wouldn’t wake up if a bomb went off next to his head.

  Grocery shopping with Bax was like a full-contact sport. He blazed through the aisles, throwing things in the cart at random with no idea or rhyme or reason as to what they went with or what they could make as a meal. He clearly had a sweet tooth because there was more candy in the basket than any grown man could possibly consume. Race made a list, broke it down in meals, and avoided the aisles that didn’t have the stuff he wanted in them. Not to mention the other shoppers. Bax ignored them, or glowered at them if they stopped to look at him too long. He was the one who had tattooed his face; I would’ve thought he would be used to it. It didn’t help matters that without his hoodie, there was no missing the smear of red high along his side on the fabric of his gray Henley he had pulled out of the back of the Runner. Race was affable. Liked to chat and flirted shamelessly with any old lady or teenage girl we went past. I was having a hard time figuring out how the two of them managed to have any kind of friendship, let alone a brotherhood that Bax had been willing to go to jail to protect.

  I pulled up short when I realized we were in the pharmacy aisle and he was looking at me with a raised eyebrow. There were giant boxes of condoms in front of him and he was waiting for me to decide what I wanted to do about it. All I could do was stare at him. If he didn’t seem to be two different men, it would be easier. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the brute that bossed me around and tried to intimidate me, but the guy who held me at night and brushed my hair softly off my face I kind of had a major crush on. It sucked that they both inhabited the same battle-hardened, impossible-to-ignore body.

  I sighed. “Just get them. Better safe than sorry.”

  He laughed at me and then made a face and put a hand on his side. I had refused to use the superglue on his cut, but now I wondered if that was a good idea. The wound was still oozing blood and it obviously hurt him when he moved wrong. He tossed not one, but two boxes in the cart and wheeled around so we could go check out.

  “I still think you should go see a doctor and get stitches. You were stabbed.”

  He looked down at me. “I was sliced, not stabbed; big difference. It’ll be fine. That was a sharp-ass knife, it was a clean cut.”

  I noticed a woman next to us in line giving him the once-over. He just seemed to have that kind of draw to the opposite sex. I rolled my eyes.

  “How did Nassir know you were going to win? I told you he handed me that money before that big guy slammed you into the ground.”

  He gave me a sharp look and then noticed the other woman checking him out. Where my brother would have smiled at her, maybe offered her a little wink or something, Bax just stared at her until she had no choice but to look away.

  “I had to win because you were there.”

  I handed him stuff as he tossed it on the belt. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You fight until one guy is down, like out, unconscious or dead. If I lost, then you would be in that club and Nassir would have served you up to the wolves. Benny, Novak, whoever he thought he could hand you over to, and get the most out of it. He knew I wouldn’t lose.”

  I just looked at him like he had suddenly sprouted horns.

  “That other guy had a knife. He could’ve won.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  I growled a little, which made him smirk at me. “I knew I should’ve ignored that text. How would Novak even get ahold of my number to set you up like that?”

  He lifted a shoulder and handed a bunch of bills over to the cashier.

  “Criminals always seem to have the information they need. Come on, we need to stop somewhere so I can grab a new hoodie and some T-shirts.” He rolled his gaze over me and a grin kicked up the side of his mouth. “You should let me buy you some pants that actually fit.”

  I wanted him to keep his mind out of my pants altogether. I helped him haul all our stuff to the car.

  “Where have you been staying? I mean, you have nothing at your mom’s house, and even if you’ve been bouncing from bed to bed in the weeks you’ve been out, you have to have someplace to land eventually.”

  He looked at me over the trunk as he slammed it closed. “I have a place I keep in the Point. A crash pad where all my crap is at. I haven’t really been in a different bed every night. I tend to stick with tried and true.”

  I gave him a chilly look as he pulled open the door for me to slide in. “I don’t think that makes it any better.”

  He just shrugged again and closed the door. “A guy has needs, but so does a girl. She just needs the right person to make her hot enough to ask for them to be met.”

  He wasn’t an overly talkative guy, which was a good thing. When he put his mind to it, he could spin words in a way that was hard to argue with.

  “I’ve never met a guy I wanted to ask.” I muttered it under my breath, hoping he might not hear me. Of course he did, though, and just laughed at me.

  “That’s because you haven’t figured out what it is you need yet. You will, though.”

  I looked out the window and openly sulked as he drove us to a small outlet mall halfway between the heart of downtown and the street where the bungalow was located. I was going to be stubborn and sit in the car while he went in and got what he needed, but I should have figured out by now that Bax got what Bax wanted because he bodily lifted me out of the passenger seat and pinned me to the side of the car. I was pouting and he was laughing down at me.

  “You can have as big of a fit as you want, Copper-Top. I think you’re cute when you pout.” He put his thumb on the center of my bottom lip and pressed down. I snapped at him with my teeth and then forgot my name because he bent his head down and kissed me.

  His lip was still split on the bottom, so there was a weird scrape of raw skin mixed with the soft press of his mouth against mine. He forced his tongue in to tangle with my own, and unbidden, my arms ended up wrapped around his neck while he pressed into me. His teeth worried along the curve of my lower lip, and my heart started pounding with the press and retreat of his mouth. This was mimicked by the slight press of his lean hips where they were pressed against my own. I gasped and he took full advantage by pressing farther into me and twisting his tongue even farther with my own. Kisses shouldn’t make you want to crawl inside the other person, but oh man, his sure did.

  When he pulled back his bottom lip, it was slick with moisture and blood. His eyes glittered like jewels and there was no pretending that I wasn’t pressing up on the tips of my toes as high as I could get to reach all of him or that my hands were clutching desperately at his broad shoulders.

  “If I had to guess what you needed from me right now, what do you think that would be?”

  I
wanted to knee him in the groin, but he shifted just in time and clasped my hand in his much larger, more battered one.

  “Let’s get some stuff and go put the groceries away.”

  I had a sneaking suspicion “put the groceries away” was code for “break into that box of condoms.” I was getting run over by him, and I wasn’t sure if I should be thrilled or terrified by it.

  CHAPTER 7

  Bax

  I NEVER MET A girl who was more stubborn, more complicated, or more fun to rile up than this one. She came by that redheaded temper naturally. I tried twice to get her to let me buy her a pair of pants that would actually fit her tiny waist and long-ass legs, but she just gave me a dirty look and wandered off. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was mad I wanted to spend blood money on her, or because she was pissed I didn’t like her tomboy look. It didn’t really bother me, I could see she was hiding in plain sight now, and I felt it was like my duty as a red-blooded male to get her over it. After getting just a peek at what she was covering up with all those ugly, baggy clothes, I knew it wasn’t right for her to feel like she had to blend into the drab and dreary of all that was the Point.

  She wandered off to get a little breathing room and I added some plain black pants, a couple T-shirts, and a normal person-sized black sweater to the hoodie, jeans, and package of T-shirts I grabbed for myself. I was going to have to swing by my place in the city and grab some stuff if I was going to be hanging out in the burbs for the foreseeable future, and she was just going to have to deal with me trying to drag her out of her prickly shell. It was fun to watch her wind up so tight she looked like she was going to snap. I liked the flush under her freckles and the way her pretty pink mouth got all red. I liked the way her green eyes went almost black, and most of all, I liked how new and untouched she seemed, like everything I did to her, every way I touched her, was a new experience. It made all the other bad shit going on seem inconsequential.

  I met her at the cash register and noticed she was refusing to look at me or talk to me. I laughed a little under my breath, which had the cashier passing a nervous look back and forth between the two of us. I wish I had snagged some lacy, frilly underwear to throw into the pile just to set her off, but it was too late as I grabbed the paper bag and followed her out of the store.

  “What kind of chick doesn’t want to shop?”

  She glared at me over her shoulder and tossed that fiery hair to the side. Man, I couldn’t wait to get my hands all tangled up in it and bury my face in it. It was like flames, red and orange, spinning and twirling around her pale face.

  “This . . .”—she wagged a finger between her and me—“is already convoluted, scary, and out of control. You very well might want to hurt my brother, I have a sinking feeling you might end up hurting me, and none of that means you get to take me shopping like I’m your girlfriend or something.”

  “You don’t have anything, Copper-Top.”

  She made a face at me and I grinned at her.

  “I have my pride. I have my brother. And I have enough sense to know that the deeper in with you I get, the worse off I’m going to be when you decide I’ve served my purpose.”

  I just shook my head at her and went to move around her because she came to a screeching halt in front of me. I went to open the trunk of the Runner when I finally noticed what had made her go so still. I put a hand on the curve of her back and looked at the guy leaning against the side of my car. I swore out loud and handed her the bag and the keys.

  “Give me just a second.”

  She went to grab for me, but five years of anger and resentment had just surged to the surface. I heard her call my name, saw the guy’s eyes widen as he pushed off my baby and tensed for the blow that was coming from my wildly thrown fist. There wasn’t a lot of force behind it because my side was still jacked up and I could feel more blood start to leak out of the bandage. He shook his face and lifted a hand to work his jaw back and forth.

  “Not even out a month and you’re ready to go back for assault on an officer?” I wanted to take that stupid badge on his belt and cram it down his throat. I made a move to lunge for him again, but a pair of tiny hands planted in the center of my chest and shoved me back.

  “Knock it off? Are you nuts? Wait, don’t answer that because clearly the answer is yes!”

  I looked down at her and back up at the smirking cop and felt my hands curl into tight fists.

  “Dovie, this is Officer Titus King . . . otherwise known as the asshole that arrested me and let me rot for five fucking years.”

  Titus gave me a steady look and then switched his attention to Dovie. I stepped around her and got back in his face.

  “You have some nerve looking for me.”

  He held up his hands in a helpless gesture and took a step back. “I heard you were out. I wanted to tell you that Gus has been asking after you since you went away. I thought maybe you would be interested in some honest employment for once in your life.”

  “Oh, now you’re interested in helping me out?”

  I wanted to get my hands around his throat and squeeze until his head popped. He sighed and put his hand on the butt of the pistol riding low on his hip. He was done letting me vent, the message was clear.

  “You were caught red-handed, Shane. What in the hell was I supposed to do? You were in the car, you and you alone. Race wasn’t there, Novak, as always, had pristine hands and a rock-solid alibi, and it was just you, the Aston Martin, and enough incriminating evidence to put you away for a fuck of a lot longer than five years. You’re lucky that’s all you got. The owner of the car died. You do remember that, right?”

  I wanted to punch him again, but Dovie didn’t need to hear all the gory details of what Race and I were into before it all blew up in our faces.

  “Get bent, King. I don’t need this from you. I’m not on parole, I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “You’re right, but you need a goddamn guardian angel the way you live. Go see Gus, Bax. For once in your life make the right choice. I don’t want to put you back in prison.”

  I glared at him and tossed the bag in the car and inclined my head toward Dovie. “Get in the car, Copper-Top.” She opened her mouth like she was going to argue, but I just looked at her until she snapped her mouth shut and did what I said.

  Once she was out of earshot, I stepped up to Titus. It was an even match; he was an inch taller than me but just as wide, and thicker with muscles used for protection and security rather than mayhem and destruction. We had the same dark hair and similar builds, but his old man must have had blue eyes, because where mine were as black as night, his were the color of the sky on a summer day. Sharing a mother hadn’t made us identical, but there was no missing we were related and shared blood when we were this close to each other.

  “I’m going back to jail over my dead body, Titus. Know it.”

  He reached out and clamped a hand on my shoulder before I could dodge it.

  “That’s what scares the shit out of me, you prick. Mom’s barely hanging in there. Novak wants you dead, or worse, and I know he wants me dead. Race is in the wind, and what, you’re fighting again and running around with some chick who looks barely legal? You can’t stay out of trouble if you try, and I’m going to have to bury you. You think I want that?”

  I shook him off and shoved him back with a hand on his beefy shoulder.

  “I’m not scared of Novak. I’ll find Race and figure this all out. She’s totally legal and Race’s sister. I’m not running around with her, Benny trashed her place and is hounding her trying to find Race. Mom isn’t my problem, you are not my problem. You lost your right to worry about me when you snapped those handcuffs on me, Titus.”

  I went to yank open the door when his words stopped me.

  “So you’ll forgive Race, keep an eye on his sister, even though he’s the one that set you up, but you won’t forgive me for doing my job?”

  I looked at my half brother, the only person in the world bes
ides Race who had ever tried to save me from myself. Titus and I were never really close. There was a six-year age gap between us and he had always been one to follow the rules, to toe the line as much as anyone could when fighting for survival. When I was ten, he had decided to leave me and Mom and go live with a friend of his on the Hill so he could switch schools and get out of the slums. As an adult, I didn’t blame him, but as a kid, I felt abandoned and alone. My mom’s care fell solely onto my young shoulders and it didn’t seem fair Titus got to go live the dream, while I became a criminal to keep up and keep alive.

  “Your job sucks, Officer King.”

  “Detective King.”

  “Blow me.” I opened the door and slid in next to Dovie. She was looking out the window and twisting her hands together. She wanted to ask me about all of it, I could feel it rolling off of her, but she kept her pretty mouth shut.

  “Go see Gus, Bax.”

  Titus’s voice was barely audible over the roar of the powerful motor of my car.

  A drive that should take twenty minutes only took ten as I raced back to the little house in the burbs. Going there with Dovie made me hate it less each time I walked in the front door. She was like some kind of balm that made all the ravaged and torn pieces of my soul feel less raw. I plopped all the grocery bags down in the kitchen and looked at her where she was leaning against the fridge.

  “We need to put this away.” My voice was harsher than normal.

  She let her head fall back and I wanted to run my tongue all along the length of her neck.

  “Tell me about the night you got arrested.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. I need to understand how Race set you up.”