Up to Me (The Bad Boys 2) - Page 37


For a fraction of a second, his eyes lock with mine.  I see the anger, the determination, the I’m-teetering-on-the-threshold-of-apeshit-crazy.  But I also see relief and something that makes my heart swell.  Then his attention moves to the foot of the bed.

I see him drop to his knees and I hear his animal growl as his fist pumps up and down over and over again.  The dull thump-squish-crunch makes saliva gush into my mouth.  The image that comes to mind is of a bloody, mangled face being pounded into the floorboards by Cash’s massive fist.  But I can hardly feel sorry for the guy. In fact, if I could manage to move, I might go lend a hand in beating the everlovin’ crap out of him.

Just a few seconds later, Cash is coming to his feet and rushing to the side of the bed.  The whole scene has a surreal quality until he squats down, putting his face level with mine, and reaches out to gently touch my cheek with his fingertips.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.  His face is a mask of agony.  I can see the guilt eating at him.  He thinks all of this is his fault.

“I am now.”

He closes his eyes for a heartbeat.  When he reopens them, his soul is there for me to see.  “Oh my God, Olivia, I didn’t know…I thought…  If something had happened to you…”

“I’m fine,” I say, not really knowing whether or not I actually am.  I just feel the overwhelming need to soothe Cash and take away some of his pain.

Right before my eyes, I see logic sweep in and force him into action.  “We have to get you out of here.”

I know he’s right and I can feel the medication wearing off a little more every minute, but still, I don’t think I can walk.

“Can you help me up?”

A frown flickers across his forehead.  “Help you up?” he asks, almost like he’s insulted.  I feel confused, but he doesn’t give me time to ask questions.  Rather, he rises and slides his hands beneath me and lifts me into his arms.

As though I’ve been given a sedative, a drug of a different kind, being in Cash’s arms has an instant and an intense effect on me.  I feel like crumbling and flying, like dancing and crying, like living and like dying.  Wrapped up in him, in his bad boy ways and his good guy heart, is my whole world.  Somehow, while I wasn’t looking, I fell.  And I fell hard.

For my soul mate.  For the love of my life.  For my hero.

In the blink of an eye, I realize I’ve never been broken by a bad boy. I’ve never been devastated by a cheater.  I’ve never been duped by a player.  I’ve never cared enough for them to do me any real damage, any lasting harm.  My pride has been wounded, my heart has been kicked around a little and my self-esteem has taken a hit or two, but all that’s like child’s play in light of what the loss of Cash could do to me.

What I did learn from my relationship failures, however, is that trust doesn’t come easy for me.  I’ve blamed my issues on the men in my life.  I’ve chalked every disastrous attempt at love on the skirt-chasing ways of the bad boy, when it’s been me all along.  Subconsciously, I’ve chosen men who would prove me right about the worthlessness of a bad boy, rather than bring to light my own shortcomings, my own fears.  And it’s been a convenient cop out until Cash came along.  Cash broke all the rules, broke all my rules. He’s not giving me reason to run. He’s giving me reason to stay.  And all I have to do is muster the courage to do it, to take the chance that it might not work out, to take the chance that I might very well get hurt.  He’s giving me something to invest in, and all I have to do is believe in it.

For real this time.

But can I take the leap?  Can I tell him I love him, and mean it, when death isn’t knocking at my door?  When disaster isn’t looming?  Can I open up my chest and make my heart vulnerable to him?

In the space of a heartbeat, with Cash looking down into my face, I’ve worked my befuddled mind into a twisted maze of confusion and uncertainty.  With a small smile of gratitude, I lay my head on his chest and let him carry me from the room.  There will be time for thoughts and musings and declarations later.

I hope.

I feel his lips brush my hair and I hear his sigh whisper through his chest just before he whisks me from the room.  In three long, powerful strides, he crosses the room and carries me out into the hall.  He pauses at the first doorway to look inside, then does the same at the second.  When he finds it empty as well, he puts his back to the wall and creeps toward the light shining at the end of the short passageway.

Gavin rounds the corner, startling a surprised chirp out of me.  His face is done up much like Cash’s, the dark paint making his blue eyes pop.  They’re not the sexy, twinkling blue eyes I’ve come to expect, though.  These eyes are cold and serious and…ominous.  It’s almost like seeing another personality living behind the familiar face.

“She all right?” Gavin asks of Cash, tipping his head at me.

“I think so.  I’ll check her out when I get her home.”

“I won’t be long. I just have some…cleaning up to do.”

Without another word, Gavin moves into the room at my right and takes a fallen man by the hands and begins to drag him toward the hall.  Cash walks ahead of him, aiming for the door.  I watch Gavin over his shoulder.

He pulls the unconscious man into the main living area, the floor of which is devoid of any kind of furniture but for a single old, brown couch.  He deposits the man at the end of a row of bodies.  Each one is lined up next to the other, shoulder to shoulder, like a bizarre prone firing line.  A shudder passes through me as I wonder at their fate.  It’s in that moment I realize that, despite my animosity toward them for holding me against my will, I really don’t want to know what’s to become of them.  I have a feeling I’ll be better off without that kind of information.

Outside, Cash pauses on the front porch, looking left and right.  When he spots what he’s looking for, he starts off down the street at a fast pace, even for his long legs.  I see Gavin’s Hummer come into view just before I hear the beep of the keyless entry.  Quickly, Cash opens the passenger side door and, with such excruciating tenderness that it tears at my heart, sets me on the seat and buckles me in.

He raises his head and gazes into my eyes. He looks tired yet relieved.  He gives me a lopsided grin.  “Rest, baby.  You’re safe.”  With a brush of his lips over mine, he closes the door.  I’m asleep before he even gets behind the wheel.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Cash

Irritated, I grip the steering wheel a little tighter.

I sound like a damn woman!

We’ve been on the road long enough that the adrenaline has faded and my thoughts have turned completely toward Olivia.  I bet I’ve glanced over at her sleeping face thirty times since we left.  Maybe more.  That number might be a little conservative.

It’s just that she looks so beautiful and the sight of her is so…welcome.  Although I refused to think about not being able to get her out of this mess alive and well, on some level I must’ve been worried about it.  Now, all I’m doing is bouncing back and forth between being thankful that she’s all right and vowing that I’ll never let anything happen to her.

Tags: M. Leighton The Bad Boys Erotic
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