Authors: K. Bromberg
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Book Three of the Driven Trilogy
I try to figure out what he’s referring to, but I just nod my head.
What is he doing?
He lowers me to the ground. “You okay?” he asks as he looks in my eyes like we are the only two people standing here. When I nod he gets that little smirk on his face, and before I can read it his lips are on mine in a soul-devouring, heart thumping, thigh-clenching-together kiss that leaves no questions about who Colton’s heart and emotions belong to. His lips claim me, tasting like a needy man starving. And I am so lost in him, to him—just as needy for him—that I don’t hear the people around us, the clicks of the cameras, because regardless of the outside world, it always comes back to us.
He breaks the kiss with a gasp from me and gives me that smirk again. “If they’re gonna stare, Ryles.” And shrugs his shoulders unapologetically as I mentally finish the phrase he said to me in Vegas …
we might as well put on a good show
.
“Did you all get a good picture?” he shouts to the crowd around us, and I look over at him confused. “Now this is what you can print with your goddamn picture. Rylee isn’t the home wrecker folks. Tawny is. Just like Tawny is a fucking liar.” He glances over at me as I stand there with my mouth agape over his comment. “Yep,” he shouts. “Paternity test is negative. So your story? Isn’t really a story anymore!”
It takes a minute for the meaning of his words to sink in and I just stare at him as he looks at me with the hugest grin on his face, and shakes his head as he pulls me under his arm and tucks me against him. “Wha—why—how?” I stutter as so many emotions flicker through me at a rapid pace, the most prominent one: relief.
“Chase is going to kill me for that one,” he mutters to himself with a smirk on his face that I don’t quite understand. Before I can ask, Colton turns us around and starts walking back through the gates as questions are yelled out about what happened today at The House. He ignores them and waits for the gates to shut before turning and looking at me. “That’s what I was calling to tell you … and then everything happened.”
I just stare at him. I can see the burden that’s been heavy in his eyes is gone—has probably been gone all day—but then again I’ve been a little preoccupied. I nod my head, unable to speak as he takes my hand and raises it to his lips.
And it hits me harder than ever before.
We can do this
. All of the obstacles between us have been removed in one way or another. It’s just this selfless girl and this healing boy and we can really make this work.
He looks at me as tears well in my eyes, and I step into his arms and don’t let go, because I’m exactly where I want to be.
Exactly where I belong.
Home.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
It’s only the hundredth time he’s asked me, but a part of me smiles silently at how well he’s taking care of me. The day had just gotten longer and longer as I assured an adamant Haddie I was okay and that she didn’t need to fly home from her job in San Francisco to physically see I was all right, and that I’d call her again in the morning. Next it was my parents and the same reassurances, and then the boys … checking in on Zander and wishing I was there to speak to him face to face as well as talk to the rest of the boys. Colton cut me off after that, telling the rest of the people who called—his parents, Quinlan, Beckett, Teddy—that I needed rest and I’d call them in the morning.
“I’m fine. I’m not feeling too well but I think it’s because I’m exhausted. My stomach is upset. I should’ve eaten more food before I took the pain meds. And now they’re making me super sleepy …”
He sits up in bed. “Do you want me to go get you something to eat?”
“No,” I tell him, pulling his arm so he lies back down. I look over at him. “
Hold me
?”
He instantly shifts and gingerly places his arms around me, pulling me into him so our bodies fit against each other. “Okay?” he murmurs into the crown of my head.
“Mmm-hmm,” I say, snuggling in as close as my sore body will allow because the pain is a little more bearable with his arms holding me tight.
We sit there for a bit, our breathing slowly evening out. I’m just on the cusp of sleep when he murmurs, “I race you, Ry. I really, really race you.”
Every part of me sighs at those words, at the admission I know is hard for him. I press a kiss to my favorite place beneath his jawline. “I race you too, Colton.”
More than you’ll ever realize.
The cramps in my stomach wake me up.
I lie in the pitch black, moonless night as the little, continuous stabs of pain combined with the sweat coating my skin, and the dizziness in my head, tell me I need to get to the bathroom quickly before I throw up. I slide out of Colton’s loosened grip on me, trying to be quick but also trying not to disturb him. He mumbles something softly, and I still momentarily before he rolls onto his back and quiets down.
My head’s fuzzy as I stand, and I’m super groggy from the pain medication. Talk about feeling like I’m walking through water. I laugh because the floor even feels kind of wet and I know it’s just my drug laden brain. I run my hand along the wall to help steady myself and guide me through the dark room so I don’t accidentally bump something and wake up Colton.
My God, I’m going to be sick!
I feel the huge rugs covering the bathroom floor beneath my feet and almost moan out in pain mixed with relief knowing the toilet is so close. I slip some as I hit the tile and curse Baxter and the damn water bowl he always drips from. I shut the bathroom door and flick on the light, the sudden brightness hurting my eyes so I squeeze them shut as the dizziness hits me at full force. I bend over, hand on the toilet rim, stomach tensing and ready to puke, but all I feel is the room spinning. My stomach revolts, the dry heave hitting me over and over. My stomach is tensing so forcefully I feel wetness run down my legs.
And I start laughing, feeling so pathetic that I’m puking so hard I’ve just peed myself, but my mind is so sluggish, so slow to piece my thoughts together that instead of figuring out what to do next, I sink down on my knees. I slide on the slick marbled floor coated with urine, but my stomach hurts so badly and my head’s so dizzy I don’t really care. All I can think of is how pathetic I must look right now. How there is no way in hell I’m going to call Colton for help.
And I’m so tired—so sleepy—and afraid I’m going to throw up again, I decide to lay my head atop my hands on the rim of the toilet and just rest my eyes for a minute.
My head starts to slide off of the toilet, and I don’t know how much time has passed but the falling motion jerks me awake. I’m immediately assaulted with such a wave of heat through my body followed up by an absolute chill that I force myself to stop a minute and take a deep breath.
Something’s not right.
I feel it immediately, even though my mind is trying to snap my thoughts together, line them up so that they’re coherent. And I just can’t. Nothing’s making sense to me. My head is heavy and my arms feel like a million pounds. I try to call out to Colton for help, not caring anymore if I’ll be embarrassed about sitting in a pool of piss. Something’s just not right. I put my hand on the wainscot to help support myself so I can stand up and open the door so he’ll hear me call his name, but my hand slips. And when I can open my eyes, when I can focus, my handprint is smeared in blood down the wall.
Hmm
.
I kind of laugh as delirium takes over. As I look down to see that I’m not sitting in urine.
No.
But why is the floor covered in blood?
“Colton!” I call, but I’m so weak I know my voice isn’t loud enough.
I’m floating and it’s so warm and I’m so tired. I close my eyes and smile because I see Colton’s face.
So handsome.
All mine.
I feel sleep start to pull on me—my mind, my body, my soul—and I let its lethargic fingers begin to win the tug-of-war.
And right before it takes me, I understand the why,
but not the how
.
Oh, Colton.
I’m sorry, Colton.
Darkness threatens to pull me under its clutches.
Please don’t hate me.
I have nothing left to resist its smothering blackness.
I love you.
Spiderman. Batm—
The sound of the gunshot startles me awake. I spring up in bed and have to catch my breath as I tell myself it’s all over. Just a goddamn nightmare. The fucking bastard is dead and got what he deserved. Zander is fine. Rylee is fine.
But something’s off. Still not right.
“
Say something I’m giving up on you …”
I jolt from the panic I feel from hearing the lyrics as they pass through the overhead speakers.
Shit
. I forgot to turn them off last night. Is that what scared the fuck out of me? I scrub my hands over my face trying to snap me from my sleep-induced haze.
That had to have been it.
“… I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you …”
I reach for the control on the nightstand to shut the music off. And then I hear it again, the sound that I’m sure was what woke me up. “Bax?” I call out into the room as I realize Ry’s side of the bed is empty. He whimpers again. “Fuckin’ A, Bax! You really have to take a piss now?” I say to him as I place my feet on the floor and stand, waiting for a second to steady myself and thank fucking God this is getting easier because I’m sick of feeling like an eighty-year-old man every time I stand.
I immediately look out toward the top of the stairs to see if any lights are on downstairs and the hairs on the back of my fucking neck stand up when it’s dark as fuck. Baxter whimpers again. “Relax, dude. I’m coming!” I take a few steps toward the bathroom and feel a bit of relief when I see the sliver of light around the closed door to the toilet room.
Jesus, Donavan, chill the fuck out, she’s fine.
No need to go smothering her and shit just because I’m still freaked the fuck out.
Baxter whimpers again and I realize he’s in the bathroom too. What the fuck? The dog’s licked his balls one too many times and is going crazy. “Leave her alone, Bax! She doesn’t feel good. I’ll take you out.” I walk into the bathroom, knowing he’s not going to come with me unless I grab his collar. I yell a hushed curse trying to get him to obey but he doesn’t move. I’m fucking beat and not in the mood to deal with his stubborn ass. I slip on the water on the floor and my temper ignites. “Quit drinking the goddamn water and you won’t have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the fucking night!” I take another step and slip and I’m fucking pissed. I’ve had it right now and am having trouble keeping my cool.