All is Lost (All Series, Book 2) (39 page)

Until this morning, I was essentially okay
with the time apart. Lying in the bed that we have been sharing
together for a few weeks, I found myself searching out his scent as
a source of reassurance that I didn’t just imagine that we are a
couple. It’s stupid, I know, but for some reason, being without him
makes me physically feel like a big disgusting boneless
ragdoll.

Having Kole substitute as my trainer while
Marcus is away has been a fairly decent distraction. Except for one
nasty bruise on my back from his elbow catching me daydreaming
about me being with Marcus on the mat instead, I can comfortably
say that my skills have improved drastically since the abduction.
The next time someone comes at me or my friends, I am prepared to
kick ass, not just survive the moment. Kole is making sure of that
personally with his relentless daily workouts.

Kole is great and I know he is attracted to
me, but thankfully he doesn’t get all creepy about it. I really
care for him too, in a big brother kind of way. He strictly forbids
me to take a step toward the front door without his permission, and
really I wouldn’t try. I’m not stupid. After a weak moment last
week, I let my guard down and Tac scared the hell out of me at
Toxic. I will never take anyone or anything for granted at work
again. I just wasn’t prepared to encounter Waverly’s brothers.
Afterward it seemed like Morgan caught more hell from them than I
did.
Poor guy
.

I know he is struggling with Waverly being
gone. He just hasn’t admitted anything to me; and I still don’t
like digging into other people’s privacy. If he wants me in, he
will let me in. I know personally how difficult it is to bare
yourself raw and hope that you don’t get shredded in the process.
People have so much power to inflict deep lifelong hurt over
others; and it’s like some soulless humans truly enjoy it, like my
stepmother, Julia and Miller Adams.

It is completely normal for Julia to go an
entire summer without contacting me, but considering everything
that went on a couple of weeks ago with the shooting and then the
abduction, I would have thought that maybe she would have at least
tried to find out some information about me. The last bit of hope
that I had about Julia being a descent person–somewhere way down
deep–is dissolved.

Miller hating for sport, to be a supreme
winner over others and never caring about who she might obliterate
in her wake is a different story; or at least that’s how she was in
middle and high school. Watching her lately, I can tell that
something about her is different. She is still beautiful and
attracts hoards of men. She still has a dangerous vibe encompassing
her, but there is also a new melancholy sheen lying over her
high-energy facade. I watch her every night on stage as front
man–or front woman–for the band. I’ve also spied her crying once in
the dressing room. I was slightly freaked out by being in there
alone with her. Thankfully, she did not recognize me. Since then
I’ve quit avoiding her. Do not get me wrong, I don’t feel sorry for
Miller. That emotion will never be linked with her in my book, but
there is a noticeable difference from the hater that nearly
succeeded at destroying me.

“
Hey sweet thang,” Morgan slurs,
approaching me sitting on the sofa in the living room–my source of
solace from the torment of Marcus’ scent. Plus, I can’t stop
watching the television for any updates on Anna and
Waverly.

Morgan is still staying at Rhys’ even after
telling me about smoothing his disappearing act over with his
mother. I’m not sure I like the idea of him being dragged into my
deadly world, but it’s not like I have a choice. Seeing how the
people I care about have become targets, I want him close and
safe.

“
Hey Morgan,” I reply, glancing up
from the television and catching a wry smirk sneaking across his
face, “what’s up?”

“
Do you want to make a break for
it?” His eyes twinkle as he reveals his mischief, but a sense of
doom leaps to the forefront of my brain. “Kole’s in the shower,
Rhys is gone and Tac won’t be back until tomorrow night. We could
get out of here for a couple of hours, just you and me. What do you
say?”

“
You’re crazy,” I laugh. “I know
that Marcus asked you to join in on the babysitting brigade, but I
won’t let you risk your life by sneaking me out of this compound.
Besides, Kole knows you’re planning something and made me swear not
to fall for your trickery.”

“
Ha! That bastard just wants to get
into your pants. I will give Marcus credit, my brother was smart
pitting us against each other when it comes to you.” He shakes his
head playfully before adding, “Come on. I promise to be nothing
except cautious, and I only have one place I want to take you. It
is actually a pretty secure place so there is no fear of getting
attacked.” He notices that I freeze at his words and quickly adds,
“I’m sorry. That was shitty for me to say. None of this is a joke
and I don’t want you thinking that I am taking it as
such.”

Watching his somber expression, I see honesty
in his eyes and I am convinced that he is telling the truth. Even
though I haven’t known him long I can tell that whatever happened
while he was away shook him up. It is so weird seeing so many
changes in the people I now call friends.

Sighing softly, I avert my eyes to my hands
crossed over my lap, “If something happens. If someone gets
hurt…”

“
I’ll take every precaution
necessary,” he reiterates. I nod yes, hoping that we are not making
a terrible mistake.

“
Cool. We’ll take my car.” He is
actually giddy about getting out of the house. I just hope he has
the same attitude when we have to face the music with Kole once we
return.

For the first twenty minutes Morgan drives
carefully and like he is a secret agent. We have looped over
several streets a few times. Eyes jumping from the roadway to the
rear view and side mirrors every few seconds, he keeps a stern
glare and only regards me once the entire drive. His peculiar
behavior tells me that he thinks someone may be following us or
that he is practicing up for out maneuvering said followers in busy
downtown traffic. I sit nervously fidgeting with my thumb ring
hoping he knows what the heck he is doing.

Letting out a harsh breath, he cranks his neck
around toward me. “It’s safe.”

“
For who?” I giggle weakly, feeling
a bit alleviated with his assurance. “You scare me sometimes. What
exactly is going through that thick skull of yours?”

“
I promised you I would take
precautions. This is me doing just that. Do not mock me.” His voice
is playful, but his features are still very tense.

“
So…was that it, Agent
M?”

With a flash of pearly whites, he quirks an
eyebrow up as he glances back over to me with an intense need for
me to explain. While trying for a sober tone, I stifle my laugh
before rewarding him.

“
You know, Men in Black? Seriously
though, after that little display I might be more nervous now than
before when I was sitting around waiting for some paid hit man to
get me at Rhys’.”

“
No one is ever going to get you,
Breesan!” He demands. Gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles
turn white with tension. Minutes pass before he finally releases
his hold and speaks again. “I’m glad you trusted me to go on this
little road trip. I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear
it.”

“
I trust you Morgan or I wouldn’t
be here now. Will you please tell me where you are taking
me?”

“
There.” He points to a large house
sitting behind gated fences and a security system that looks
new.

Gasping loudly, I lose total control of
myself, feeling the nausea and trembling taking over.

“
No,” I whisper, shocked that
Morgan would consider doing this to me.

“
You can trust me. I’ve made
arrangements for you to get in without being seen. Breesan just let
me do this.”

“
Why?”

Pulling up to the entrance, Morgan taps a code
onto the keypad before answering, “There’s someone here you need to
speak with.”

The gate slides open slowly allowing our entry
onto the Walker estate and my nerves begin to buzz like a busted
florescent light fixture needing attention. Trying to calm myself,
I stroke my hands over my arms as Morgan pulls his car around the
side of the house and into the large four car garage. Except for
Morgan’s black BMW there are no other vehicles in the bay, which
helps settle my anxiety. No one seeing me here is of the utmost
importance. He knows this and if I hadn’t been so accepting of his
excitement and promises I would never have come here with him.
Shutting off the car, he turns to me and grabs my shaky
hand.

“
Don’t be angry with me, I must do
this. I can’t erase the past, but doing this will ease the pain of
it all. Tristan is here. You have been denied seeing him long
enough.” A sob leaves my mouth and I urgently clasp my free hand
over it. “You understand how serious his condition is, right?”
Facing forward staring out the front window at the entry door, I
nod slowly, unable to form words and afraid that the sobs will be
uncontrollable once allowed.

“
Granddad had most of the basement
converted into a hospital room when Tristan woke up last week. The
construction crew worked around the clock until they finished it a
couple of days ago. They moved him in early yesterday with a full
staff of nurses and of course his doctor will be paid an obscene
amount of money for the house calls.”

My head twitches up and down in response to
his explanation. Suddenly I’m anticipating seeing Tristan with
renewed excitement.

“
Breesan, there are some things
that the doctor isn’t sure about. He told us before Trist woke up
that we should prepare for the worst. He is out of the coma, but
they are continuing to sedate him to ward off the pain. As far as
his injury goes, he still has the bandage covering the stitches
that run above his ear. Lucky for that ugly little shit, when his
hair grows out it won’t be noticeable,” he snorts, trying to inject
humor along with the gruesome facts.

“
If he has a full staff, how are
you going to get me in and out, without anyone seeing me?” I ask,
my eyes still glued on the door separating me from my
friend.

“
Oh, I am a very resourceful man
Ms. Maxwell.”

He reaches a hand behind my seat pulling a
leather satchel out and placing it on my lap. With his head tipped
down, a smile slowly sneaks across his lips as he unhooks the
buckles on the bag. Pulling out a white garment he holds it up and
corrects himself. “I mean, Nurse Stephanie. This is the outfit of
choice selected by my father for the female staff,” he shrugs
seemingly embarrassed by his father.

Understanding that I now have another persona
to fake, I huff out a full breath. “You really think this will
work?” I ask holding up the garment.

“
If it doesn’t, I will have the
perfect vision for my nightly fantasies with you in this skimpy
dress to last the rest of my life.”

Blowing hair out of my face with a quick
breath, I roll my eyes and look at him before punching his arm. “Oh
my god, stop being a creeper. How long can I stay with
him?”

Morgan laughs. “Nurse Stephanie is on the
schedule for a couple of hours. When we go inside just smile, nod
and let me handle the nurse on shift. I’ll have her out of that
room in no time.”

I duck into a bathroom two doors down from the
room Morgan points out as Tristan’s. Quickly I exchange my clothes
with the very short, very skimpy nurse’s dress and shove my things
into the leather satchel. Cautiously, I peek into the hallway, exit
and sneak my way to the room. True to his word, Morgan charms the
hell out of the pretty nurse within a couple of minutes. Rooted in
place, I am left alone in the room with a sleeping Tristan. My eyes
scan over all of him. This time I’m prepared for him to look bad,
but I am wrong. He looks so much better.

The bandage on his head is smaller and only
covering the right side of his head just above his ear. There is
swelling and the bruises are still very prominent and dark. I take
several long, slow strides forward until I stand beside his bed.
Hovering over him, I can see the scruff on his jaw line and
silently giggle knowing he would freak out if he could see
it.

Tristan has always kept his appearance
perfect. Ever the compliant young professional, he didn’t get a
tattoo, or a piercing the moment he was old enough. Even as badass
as he was playing football, he never sustained an injury that left
a mark behind. Looking at the bandage that protects his new scar, I
am thankful that it will be covered by his hair once it grows back
out.

“
Mmm.” His eyebrows draw in tightly
as he moans in his sleep. “Ughhhhh.”

I spot the intravenous tube still in his hand
and search around the bedside table for his chart. His pain
medicine must be wearing off, but I don’t have a clue how to help
him. Flipping through the papers, I spot the note that reads his
pain medicine is overdue.
Shit
.

“
Ughhhh, ughhhh.” Through his
groaning I hear a loud gasp and quickly shift my eyes back to him.
He is staring at me, pain engulfing his features.