Page 195 of Fearless

Then Ghost, who stopped just inside the door and waited until Maggie got to her feet and rose to go meet him.

And then Mercy, traces of blood down the legs of his jeans.

Ava sat forward and put her glass on the table as he came to sit beside her, her stomach tightening, nerves clenching.

He sat close, so they were almost touching, but not quite. His face, she saw in the artificial light, was flecked with tiny dots of blood, across the blade-sharp bridge of his nose and the ridges of his cheekbones.

For a long moment they merely stared at one another, Ava disturbingly fascinated by the blood on him. She glanced at his hands, but they were clean, of course. He’d take a shower and wash his jeans, and then there’d be no traces of the gore. When she lifted her eyes, found his again, she wasn’t surprised to see the desire in them, the crackling warmth. He’d committed unspeakable violence for her, and now he wanted to bury himself in her, his reward for ruthlessness. Like a Viking. First the pillaging, then the…Well, it wouldn’t be rape, no, never, because she wanted it too.

Mercy cleared his throat and made a visible effort to compose himself, gaze sliding away from her so he could concentrate. Ava slid her hand inside of his and squeezed, encouraging.

“You won’t like this, but you’re going to have to take some time off school. A few weeks, at least.” Fast flicker of his eyes, full of apology. “We’re going to have to get away,fillette. They’ll be looking for both of us.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I was afraid of that.”

His grin was slender, halfhearted. “Guess I get to take you home after all.”

Her heart throbbed. Home to New Orleans, to the swamps of Louisiana that had bred and reared him. It was the most inappropriate thing – given what he’d just done, and how devastating that should have been to both of them – but she wanted so badly to ask about his father.Will you finally tell me? If you take me home, will you turn that secret loose?

“When?” she asked, instead.

“As soon as you can pack a bag.” Ghost said from behind the couch.

Ava turned and saw her father with hands on hips, stern gaze moving between the two of them. The understanding man from the bike shop minutes ago was gone, replaced by her father once more. A different version of him, though, because this version wanted her with Mercy.

“This afternoon, if possible. I’m on my way to call Stack in Atlanta, and Bob in NOLA.”

Mercy nodded. “Yeah.”

“Come on, baby,” Maggie said, reaching out a hand for Ava. “Let’s go get you ready.” There were tears glittering in her eyes.

Carter woke, and for one panicked minute, didn’t know where he was. His eyes struggled to focus. His face was on something soft: a pillow. A table in front of his face: bottle, glasses, ash tray, smoke curling from its crystal center, boots propped on the edge.

He pushed up, wiped at his face, and remembered he was in the Lean Dogs’ clubhouse, in their common room, sleeping on a leather sofa. On the matching sofa across from him, Ava’s brother Aidan and his best friend, Tango, sat having a smoke and a beer, a box of Dunkin’ Donuts between them. Tango had powdered sugar on his chin.

Aidan licked rainbow sprinkles off his thumb and said, “Sleeping Beauty waking up. And I didn’t even kiss you or anything.”

“Ha.” Carter swung his legs to the floor and massaged the stiffness from his neck. “What’s going on?”

“Breakfast,” Tango said helpfully. “Doughnut?”

What the hell. He reached for the box as it was handed to him across the table. There was a maple frosted in there – his favorite – and he speared it with a finger through the hole and took a huge bite, passing the box back. He was starving, he realized.

“What I meant was,” he said as he swallowed, “what’s going on with…” Did he dare say the name? “Mason.”

Aidan made a dismissive gesture. “Nobody wants to talk about him.”

Tango wiped the sugar off his face with the back of his hand. “What about you? What’ve you got going on today?”

He shoved in more doughnut, even as the first bite hit his stomach like a rock. “I’m ‘sposed to be at work at eight. What time is it?”

Aidan said, “That’s a suckass job. What do you do? Ring up cigarettes and lotto tickets twelve hours a day?”

“Pretty much, but that’s all I got. Seriously, what time is it?” He held the doughnut in his teeth as he reached for his sneakers under the coffee table. “I’m probably late. Shit, and Val doesn’t have a key to get in…”

“Untwist your panties, Gertrude,” Aidan said. “It’s six.”

Carter relaxed a fraction, chewing more slowly.

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