Shattered Bonds: Book Seven of Wicked Play (6 page)

Chapter Seven

Carter was shifting the truck into Park when the call came. After the silence through most of the drive, Liv jumped at the sudden ring of her phone. She fumbled to get it out of her pocket, each second feeling like years before she saw Noah’s name on the cracked screen. News.

Her hand shook as she lifted it to her ear. “Noah?”

“Hey, Liv.” His voice gave away nothing. It held the same flat note she usually heard.

“You got news?” Her heart banged an overactive beat in her chest and she squeezed her eyes closed, hoping. It had to be good. Carter gripped her leg, and her eyes flew open to meet his. Everything she was feeling was mirrored on his face. “Hold on. I’m putting you on speaker,” she told Noah before doing just that. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“Jake is out of surgery,” Noah said, his deep voice sounding tinny through the speaker. “He’s doing okay.” The sigh that left her chest sucked the air from her lungs. “He lost a lot of blood, but they managed to save his leg.” She sniffed and wiped at her nose but was unable to stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks. The relief was huge. It took all of her effort not to envision the sight of his thigh bone protruding through his flesh.

“Good,” Carter said, his voice rough, but at least he could speak. She found his hand and gripped it.

“He’ll be moved to ICU when he’s out of recovery.”

There was a short silence, and Liv brushed the moisture from her cheeks, trying to get her thoughts together.

“Anything on the other two?” Carter asked. She flashed a grateful grin at him. She had to do better than this.

A sigh came through the phone. “Kendra is also out.” The lack of further information had her stomach cramping.

“And?” she croaked. She swallowed past the new surge of fear and clung tighter to Carter’s hand.

“They reset her collarbone and fixed her punctured lung. But there’s significant swelling on her brain.” He left that hanging, and Liv scrambled to understand what it meant. They should really get out and get the news in person, but she couldn’t stop him now.

“How bad?” Carter’s voice had deepened.

“Bad.” That single word seemed to echo through the cab of the truck to sink into her. “The surgery to remove the hematoma went well, but she’s in a coma.”

“What does that mean?” She had no background on traumatic head injuries other than knowing swelling and comas were generally not good.

“It’s a waiting game now.”

“But she’s still alive,” she insisted, clinging to that bit.

There was a slight pause before a firm “Yes.”

“Where are you?” Carter asked, stuffing the truck keys into his coat pocket. “We just pulled into the parking lot across from the red building.”

“Good.” The sounds of Noah moving came through the phone. “I’ll meet you at the entrance. Tyler’s still in surgery, but Allie and Seth are here with Marcus. Cali’s on her way over with Rock.”

“Yeah,” Carter said, rubbing his brow. “Rock texted me.”

“At least we’ll be centralized now. I’ll tell you the rest when I see you.” Noah hung up before she could question him on “the rest.”

Carter gave her hand a last squeeze before he let go to point at her screen. “You need a new phone.”

She shrugged the comment off and sent a text to V to let her know they were back, before they grabbed the bags and headed to the building.

They were at the far end of the parking lot, but she spotted Noah even at that distance. He stood outside, hands in his pockets, chin tilted up to catch the sun on his face. The morning had warmed and promised to be a beautiful fall day. Perfect for a trip to the pumpkin patch or playing in the leaves or a long stroll through the park.

She chose to take that as a good sign. No one could die on such a gorgeous day.

The sun shone off Noah’s black hair but couldn’t hide its rumpled state. He’d plowed his fingers through it too many times for it to return to its usual neat appearance. Like the scruff on his cheeks and the wrinkles in his shirt and pants, it showed a side of him that was as normal and feeling as the rest of them.

She had an urge to hug him tight so he’d know he wasn’t alone. That he didn’t have to be the strong one guiding them all through. So when they reached him, before he could say a word, she did exactly that. The bags fell to the ground with a soft thud, then her arms were around him.

She rose up on her tiptoes to reach around his shoulders and held him close. He faltered for a moment, a soft grunt escaping before his arms came around her. The ends of his hair tickled her cheek as she burrowed her nose into the warm skin on his neck. That was where she found his scent, that rich spice and subtle cedar she now recognized. It reminded her of the solid strength he offered, like the wood itself.

Letting go was hard, especially when the softest of touches grazed over the sensitive spot right below her ear. It could’ve been a kiss or a chance touch of his lips. Either way, a flash of awareness burned down her neck. The desire to push closer had her shoving away.

“You looked like you could use that,” she said to cover the embarrassment that threatened to turn her into a bumbling teen.

He studied her, his blue eyes saying so much, most of which she didn’t understand. “Thank you,” he finally said. He grabbed the bags she’d dropped, and she didn’t try to fight him on that. He’d have said no anyway.

Chivalrous. The old-fashioned word fit Noah perfectly. He always opened her door, carried boxes or moved stuff at the youth center, spoke kindly and in general treated women with a cultured respect that had somehow gotten lost with the cries of feminism. She might be independent and appreciate the freedoms she had, but something went all soft inside her whenever he treated her with those touches of deference.

“So what else do we need to know?” Carter checked his grip on one of the bags and hitched another higher on his shoulder.

Noah slung the two bags he’d picked up over his shoulders, his gaze traveling over the area around them as he grabbed his briefcase. “You should both know that the crash wasn’t an accident.” It was another flatly said statement without inflection, just like his expression. She couldn’t process it.

She stood there with her mouth hanging open, unable to comprehend what he’d said. Not an accident? Then that meant...

“Damn,” Carter said. “Rock was right then?”

Noah nodded. “Yeah. There are two detectives upstairs waiting to talk to both of you. When I pressured them, they confirmed Rock’s suspicion.” He pressed his lips together, a flash of anger charging over his features before they smoothed back to his normal calm. “They found a note in the truck with him.”

“What? Wait.” Liv grabbed Noah’s arm to slow him down, even though he wasn’t moving. “Who are you talking about? Who was the guy in the truck? Why would he want to hurt them?” The logic wouldn’t flow for her. The thought of intentionally hurting anyone, let alone the people who’d been so nice to her, was beyond her grasp. Her stomach rolled again, a sensation she was unfortunately getting used to after the last eight hours.

Carter glanced between them then met Noah’s eyes in another one of those silent communications.

“Stop it,” she insisted, her frustration snapping out. “Just tell me what’s going on. If you aren’t willing to tell me everything, then you shouldn’t have said anything.” She couldn’t overcome the childish feeling of being left out for a reason she couldn’t define.

A couple rushed up the stairs, hand in hand, the woman’s heels clicking on the sidewalk as they passed.

Noah watched them go by before he motioned toward the door. “Let’s take these bags up.”

“No!” Liv held her ground. Something was going on, and she was tired of her questions being ignored. “Don’t brush me off. I was there. I care about them, just like you.” She thumped him on the chest. “You don’t get to decide what I should or should not know. You don’t get to exclude me. You don’t get...” Her bravado petered out at that point to leave her with empty words and regret. Of course he got to. She was the outsider. She couldn’t force her way into being their confidant, no matter how hard she pushed.

She stared at the street, the passing cars a blur behind tears that pooled in her eyes. She would not cry. Not for herself over something so incidental right now. Her jaw ached along with her throat as she blinked away the moisture. Her throat would be raw if she didn’t stop the spoiled brat routine.

How selfish could she be?

Noah was suddenly there, replacing her view with the wrinkled lines of his shirt. One that contained a trail of dark brown spots down the front and had the sleeves rolled up to hide the similar stains on the cuffs. “Hey.” His voice was gentle, like his hand when he cupped her cheek.

She inhaled at the tenderness, her breath holding as she absorbed the warmth of his touch. A subtle pressure had her chin tilting up to meet his eyes. Air filled her lungs in a rush of shock. An unguarded Noah studied her with concern and understanding. Her lips started to tremble and she pressed them together to hide the fact.

“I’m not shutting you out.” His thumb moved in a slow caress along her cheekbone that pulled her attention and had her swallowing back her inappropriate desire for more. “I’ll tell you everything, just not here, where we could be overheard. It’s messy and likely to get worse, which is why you need to know so you can make a decision if you want to be involved.”

Once again she was lost. With her lack of sleep, all the vague talk, evaded questions and silent communication were sucking the last of her strength. Energy she didn’t have to spare.

She narrowed her eyes and found the kernel of determination that kept her going. “Of course I’m staying. These guys were all there for me. There’s no way I’m running away when they need my help.” Saying the words filled her up, made her stronger.

His eyelids dropped down to shield his eyes for a second. A smile tugged on his lips and he lowered his hand to her shoulder. Whatever he was thinking was locked back away when he opened his eyes though. Somehow, she’d managed to destroy that quiet bit of openness he’d given her because all that showed now was the stoic businessman.

“Let’s take care of these.” He shifted his shoulder to indicate the bags. “You should talk to the detectives too. Before I tell you the rest.”

“Why?” She rubbed her forehead, the plot too complex for her sluggish mind to untangle.

“So your answers are uncensored,” he said, gently steering her toward the entrance. “You have nothing to hide.”

“I know that,” she snapped, irritated by the entire situation.

“Good.”

She ignored his patronizing tone. She’d definitely earned it with her little breakdown. Something she would not repeat, but none of this was making sense. Some man deliberately crashed into her friend’s car. A person was dead, others critically injured. There was a mysterious club they all seemed to be associated with that was some kind of big secret. It was starting to sound like a crazy soap opera plot.

Carter was waiting for them in the lobby. She hadn’t even noticed he’d left them. He looked up from his phone when they walked up, his gaze shooting between them once again.

“The detectives are in a conference room on the seventh floor,” Noah said. “I’d like to be present as your legal counsel if you’ll let me.”

“Definitely,” Carter replied. “I’d prefer it, given my history.”

His history? Yet more secrets she wasn’t privy to.

She nodded at Noah. “That’s fine.” It didn’t really matter to her, as she’d done nothing wrong. And weren’t those the famous last words on every TV cop drama?

“Can we take these to Seth and Allie before we do?” Carter nudged the bags.

“Yeah. They’re still in the surgical waiting room. Let’s go there first.”

She followed Noah to the elevators in a déjà vu moment of last night. Only this time the hall was busy with activity. The buzz of low chatter, ringing phones and shoes squeaking on the tile floor all collided to fill the air with normalcy. She felt anything but normal though and had no idea when she would again.

* * *

Noah slicked his wet fingers through his hair, eyes closed in a moment of solitude. The water shut off, leaving the lonely echo to bounce around the tile-encased bathroom. He needed a shower, a cup of coffee and at least five hours of sleep. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Well, maybe the coffee would.

He dropped his hands and shook out his hair. His attempts at taming it had resulted in only marginal success. At least he’d been able to shave and had clean clothes. The ones he’d had on had been deposited into the trash. He’d practically torn them from his body when he’d entered the bathroom stall.

He smoothed a wrinkle out of the sweater Liv had picked out then straightened his shirt cuffs. She’d selected well, not that he would’ve complained about anything she’d brought. With the beard stubble cleaned away and the fuzz scrubbed from his teeth, he was feeling almost presentable again.

With a last glance in the mirror, he grabbed his bag and exited the bathroom. He found most of the group assembled in the ICU waiting room. Tyler had made it out of surgery just over an hour ago. Thank God. His condition was critical with most of his right side broken, but everyone was still alive. They had all shed a few tears of relief when they’d gotten the news.

He dropped his bag on the floor next to where Liv sat. Why, he didn’t question. It just seemed natural to do so. Maybe it was simply because they’d been together since this started.

She glanced up and gave him a small smile. She’d changed into a hooded sweatshirt and clean jeans while she was out and her hair was back in the neat ponytail again. Comfortable, that was how she always looked. Content with who she was without a need to impress anyone. Her makeup was usually light, which let her beauty shine through with the warmth she naturally exuded.

He had a strange urge to fall into her arms and take whatever comfort she wanted to give him. Damn, he really was tired. A glance at the clock showed it closing in on noon. Over thirty hours without sleep was giving him crazy thoughts.

He sunk into the cushioned chair next to Liv and sized up the situation. Their small ensemble took up a good portion of the room, but there were a few others waiting on loved ones as well.