Written on My Heart Page 5

  When I get back to the table, Em is giving me the look she’d mastered at three years old. Her arms are crossed and her eyes narrowed, and her bottom lip juts out. “God, Lane! Just because you hate having fun, does that mean you can’t let anyone else have it?”

  Here we go—the guilt trip. I roll my eyes even though part of me admires her persistence. You’d think she’d give up after twenty-one years. “Em, you’ve had your fun. That much is very apparent. I’m just here to tell you that you’ve had enough.”

  “I’m not a baby,” she fires back. “I’m twenty-one. You can’t just show up at a party and tell me when I have to leave.”

  “Yeah.” The long-haired Abercrombie-model-wannabe beside her slides an arm around the back of her chair. “You can’t make her go, man, if she doesn’t want to go.”

  I glare at him. “This is a family matter. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave it at that.”

  He pushes to his feet, nostrils flaring.

  “Lane.” Emily’s voice is a warning. She stands. “Just chill, all right? I know how to take care of myself. This isn’t high school. I don’t need you coming to my rescue.”

  “She doesn’t want to go, man,” the guy echoes. “So why don’t you get the hell out of here?”

  The rhinoceros beside Em’s friend slides his massive arm around her chair and pulls her closer to him. She doesn’t appear to notice. Instead, her eyes droop sluggishly. “The girls are fine,” the rhino growls. “We’re watching out for them.”

  “Hey!” Emily whirls on him. “Who asked you to watch out for us? We’re adult women. We’re fine on our own.”

  “Really?” I point a finger at her semiconscious friend. “That doesn’t look fine to me.”

  “Actually, Ashlyn is fine. You should have seen her when she got here—she was a mess. I calmed her down. Though…” She turns to her friend, scrutinizing her. “I may have overdone it.”

  I cross my arms. “You think?” It’s in this moment I actually feel sorry for Ashlyn. If Em was trying to take care of her, the poor girl didn’t stand a chance.

  “Yeah…” She rubs her eyes. “On second thought, maybe I overdid it, too. Bed is sounding better by the second. Lane, can you help me carry Ash out of here?”

  Abercrombie makes a cry of protest. “Are you kidding me? I thought we were having a good time.”

  “We were.” She leans over and pokes his nose with her index finger. “But now I’m done.”

  That’s my girl. I can’t help but smile…until I catch a glimpse of the rhino tightening his hold on Ashlyn’s chair. “Get your friend on her feet,” I tell Em. “I’ll help you from there.”

  Emily nods, but just as she reaches for her, Rhino stands, shoving his way in front of Ashlyn. “Don’t you worry about her. I already told her I’d give her a ride home. Didn’t I?” He nudges Ashlyn’s shoulder. She blinks in response.

  Son of a bitch. The guy is roughly the size of baby elephant. While I’ve been known to hold my own in a fight, I’ve yet to take on someone the size of a backyard shed. Even so, I’m not about to leave some poor drunk girl alone with him. “Not happening,” I say. “She’s coming with us.”

  “No.” The dude steps forward, towering over us like a wall of muscle. “She’s not.” The threat of violence radiates off of him in fiery waves that burn against my skin.

  My own muscles coil in response, my knuckles tightening until they ache to drive into his flesh. The fucker glares down at me and I lift my chin and crack my neck from side to side in response. True, I don’t know this girl, but I can’t help but wonder, what if it were Harper drunk at a party? Wouldn’t I want somebody to watch over her? Besides, even if this guy gets a few hits on me, it isn’t like I’m going to lose the fight. I never lose.

  I throw my arms wide, beckoning him to come at me. “I’m taking the girl with me. You don’t like it? Try and stop me.”

  Tension winds between us like a serpent ready to strike. The room falls silent as heads turn in our direction. The Rhino snorts and I half expect to see steam waft out his nose. “Dude, I am going to fuck you up so hard.” He presses a fist against his open palm.

  I grin. “I’d love to see you try.” And I would. It’s been so long since I’ve been in a good fight. My muscles ache to pound out the frustration that’s built up inside me.

  “Oh my God!” My sister rolls her eyes. “Really? Enough of the macho shit.” Before I figure out what’s she about to do, she whirls around and drives her knee into Rhino’s crotch. “We’re taking Ashlyn with us, fuckhead!”

  The room draws a collective breath and every guy in the place winces as Rhino’s face turns several shades of red before he doubles over with a barely audible squeak.

  “Emily!” My shoulders slump. “Damn it. I was taking care of it.”

  “When?” She crosses in front of Rhino who drops to his knees muttering a continuous line of curses. “Were you going to take care of it sometime this year? Because I want to go home now.” She drapes Ashlyn’s arm over her shoulder and pulls the girl to her feet. “C’mon, honey. Let’s get you out of here.”

  She drags Ashlyn away from the table in front of the panting Rhino. I want to help her, but at the same time, I refuse to take my eyes off the bent-over man—and I’m glad I don’t. As soon as Em passes him, he reaches for her.

  I don’t hesitate. My fist meets his face with a satisfying crack that sends shockwaves of pain up my arm—not that I let it show. The guy groans and falls backward, crashing into his abandoned chair and splintering it under his weight. He lifts his head and blinks at me with unfocused eyes.

  I point at him and notice two of my knuckles are split and bleeding. “If you know what’s good for you,” I turn and face the crowd of gawkers, “if any of you know what’s good for you, you’ll never screw with my sister, or her friend.”

  I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and turn just in time to see Abercrombie’s fist flying toward my face. I duck, his hand tickling the hair along my scalp as it passes. As I stand, I grab his shoulder, yank it down, and drive my knee into his gut.

  Doubled over, the guy lets out a gasp, his eyes bulging. I don’t wait for him to recover before I take him by the shoulders and throw him on top of his fallen friend.

  “Lane!” Emily screeches. I look to find her frowning at me, with her free hand on her hip.

  “What?” I ask. “You started it.”

  She huffs and struggles to reposition her friend on her shoulder. I can already tell if I wait for her to help the girl out, we’ll be here all night. With a sigh, I walk over to them, grab Ashlyn by the waist and hoist her over my shoulder so her legs drape across my chest. The girl grunts softly. “Let’s go,” I say.

  Em searches the crowd of frozen faces. “Hey Pete!” She waves. “This was a really awesome party. I’ll be sure to make your next one.”

  “Yeah…” Pete nods dumbly as we walk by.

  Emily bounces ahead of me out the door and onto the lawn. The girl that offered me the shot watches, wide-eyed, as I carry Ashlyn to my truck. I pause long enough to wink at her and watch her mouth drop before I turn away. “So where am I taking this one?” I ask Em.

  She stops bouncing. “To her apartment. Duh.”

  “Which is where?”

  “Uh…” She blinks. “Good question.”

  I pull my keys from my pocket with a sigh. “She can’t go home with me. Can you imagine what Harper would think?”

  Emily reaches the passenger-side door and pulls it open. “I think Harper is a lot cooler than you give her credit for.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but she waves a hand, cutting me off. “Calm your tits, Nancy. She can stay at my place.”

  I press my teeth together so hard my jaw aches as I yank open the quad-cab’s back door and deposit Ashlyn onto the bench seat. Her eyes are closed and a thin line of drool trails from the corner of her lips. She’s completely wasted. There is no way she would have known if that muscle head h
ad tried— No. I won’t go there. The very idea of him touching her without her consent makes me want to go back inside the house and rip his dick off.

  “She’s cute, right?”

  I turn to find Em watching me from the front seat.

  I scowl at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Ash.” She points at her slumped over friend. “I think she’s your type, too. Unfortunately it would never work. She’s got a thing about kids, so I told her you were an ass and to steer clear.” She spins away from me. “You’re welcome.”

  I haven’t a fucking clue what she’s talking about, but I don’t bother asking. She’s so drunk I doubt even she knows. After buckling the seat belt around Ash, I climb in the front seat. Em already has her phone plugged into my stereo. I huff loudly. “This is the thanks I get for coming to this party and getting into a fight, all so I can drag your drunk ass home?”

  She snorts. “As far as those two idiots inside, I had things under control. I will thank you for the ride, though.” After settling on a song—some techno pop beat that makes me want to grind my teeth together—she leans back and stretches. Her eyelids droop and she yawns. “Wake me when we get home, okay?”

  “All right,” I say, even though I know I won’t. Looking at her, all small and curled up against the seat, she reminds me of the five-year-old girl curled against the hard vinyl of the hospital sofa as we waited for news on our father. When the doctor arrived to tell us they couldn’t stop the bleeding from the bullet, I begged my mother not to wake her, to spare her from the pain just a little longer.

  Later, at my father’s funeral, when his partner handed me his badge, he told me I needed to take care of my sister and mother, a job I take seriously to this day. I adjust my review mirror so I can check on the sleeping girl in the back. They’re safe now. I might not be a cop like my dad, but that doesn’t mean a small part of him doesn’t live on through me.

  I grip the steering wheel and glance at my knuckles. Dried blood streaks across my skin like torn ribbons. Like Dad, I will stop at nothing to protect the people I love—no matter how much it hurts.

  Chapter Six

  Ashlyn

  The smell of coffee finds me in the darkness of dreamless sleep and pulls me into reluctant consciousness. My eyelashes feel as if they’ve been glued together. I rub the heels of my hands against them until I can finally pry them open—an act I regret immediately. The light burns my retinas like a laser. I flinch, but I’m too late. A throbbing builds inside my temples, pulsing and grinding the plates of my skull tighter until I’m sure bits of my brain will leak out through my ears.

  “Morning, sunshine,” a gruff voice greets me. A large hand thrusts a steaming mug of coffee in front of my face. The mug is red with the words Coffee makes me awesome! painted in black. Before I can reach for it, a second hand appears with two tiny capsules balanced on the outstretched palm. “Advil. Figured you could use it.”

  I glance up into Lane’s brown eyes and, for a heartbeat, I feel as if I might fall into them and drown in their dark pools. God, what’s wrong with me? I grimace and place a hand against my temple. “I think I might still be drunk. Or having a nightmare. Why else would the asshole tattoo guy be in my apartment?”

  “You’re not in your apartment.” Lane smirks and deposits the pills and mug on the coffee table in front of me—a coffee table I don’t recognize.

  I jerk back and the blurred lines of the room sharpen around me. The walls of the small living room are painted a warm yellow, and worn, rust-colored drapes hang from floor to ceiling. The small windowsills are stuffed with potted aloes and other leafy green plants. The brown microfiber couch I’m sprawled across is accented with multi-colored pillows. Instead of the stale smell of cigarettes and beer of my own apartment, this one smells of cinnamon and coffee. “Where am I? Is this—is this your apartment?”

  He laughs out loud. If he wasn’t such an ass, I might find the rich sound pleasant. “God no.”

  “I’m so late!” someone shrieks behind me.

  I twist around to find Emily hopping on one foot as she slips a shoe on the other. “Fuck!” She slides to halt in front of a small table and roots through a laundry basket on top. “If I’m late today, that makes three days this week, and that means a warning.” She tosses several shirts onto the floor before pulling out her barista apron. She loops it over her head and spins a circle. “Have you seen my keys?”

  Lane picks up a cluster of keys off the table and holds them out to her.

  “Thanks.” She snatches them from his hand and turns for the door.

  “Um, Emily,” I say. “I know you’re late and all, but I kinda need to get back to my car.”

  She freezes before turning pleading eyes on her brother. “Please, Lane. You know you owe me.”

  He sighs. “Fine. But after this, I want you to know we’re even. I don’t owe you anything else.”

  “Thanks, big brother.” She leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek before racing for the door, where she pauses with her hand on the knob. “I hope you had fun last night, Ash. I know I did. We should hang out more.”

  “Sure,” I answer, even though I can’t remember if I had fun or not. The night’s memories are too deeply embedded in the haze of my hangover for me to sort them out. “How about the next time we hang out, we watch a movie instead of letting trucks drive over our skulls?” I press my palms against my throbbing temples. “At least that’s what I think happened.”

  Laughing, Emily opens the door. “Oh my God, you are so adorable. Isn’t she adorable, Lane?”

  He grunts.

  “Anyway,” she continues, “make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa and all that. I hope when you get back to your place, all the naked people have cleared out.” She shudders. “Ugh. Anyway, gotta go. We’ll talk later.”

  Before I can respond, she shuts the door behind her, sealing me in with her brother. The quaintness of the small apartment suddenly feels more claustrophobic. Icy panic floods me. If my anxiety shows, it’s apparently amusing as hell to Lane, who grins. God, can he be more of an ass? One thing’s for sure, I’m not about to spend more time with him than I have to.

  “You don’t have to give me a ride back to my car,” I say. “I can find a lift.” The last part is a lie. The only person I know beside Em is my roommate Selena, and she won’t wake up before noon for anyone or anything. I glance at the clock to find it’s nearly seven in the morning. Yep. I’m totally on my own here.

  Lane arches an eyebrow. “So what’s this about naked people?”

  “Ugh.” Typical guy with his selective hearing. I rake my fingers through my hair, only to have them snag on tangles in my bed-head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk about it.” I fumble on the floor for my missing Toms.

  “Looking for these?” Lane reaches behind him and withdraws two red canvas shoes. “You kicked them at me while you were sleeping. I kept them because I thought I’d be safer if you were without ammunition.”

  With cheeks burning, I snatch them from his hands and slip them on. “Sorry,” I mumble. I don’t remember kicking my shoes at him, but it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it.

  He stares at me for so long I have to fight to keep from squirming under his gaze.

  “What?” I blurt when I can stand it no longer.

  He shrugs and sits on the loveseat across from me. “I’ve just never seen anyone thrash in their sleep the way you do—it was like you were wrestling an alligator or something.”

  “Some people move in their sleep. What’s the big deal?” I quickly glance away before he can read the truth in my eyes. If he knew my real nightmare—the one where I wake up locked in my old bedroom—wrestling alligators would seem tame by comparison.

  “Move?” He laughs out loud. “Sweetheart, you were racing Michael Phelps for the gold.”

  I scowl at him. “How about we talk about the more disturbing issue. You were watching me sleep? What kind of sick
freak are you?”

  “You think I was watching you?” He lurches back like I’ve struck him, and I can’t help but feel the slightest twinge of satisfaction. “In your dreams, cupcake. I was trying to sleep in that recliner right there.” He points to the chair in the corner of the room. “And I emphasize the word trying. It’s impossible to fall asleep when someone is moaning and kicking shoes at you all night.”

  Angry heat burns from my chest and up my neck, until the tops of my ears feel scorched. “What the hell were you doing sleeping here, anyway? Don’t you have some girlfriend to get back to?” I thrust a finger in the direction of his tattoo. “Harper, isn’t it?”

  His laugh is a loud bark and he jabs a finger right back at me. “Please don’t flatter yourself. The only reason I stayed was because you and my sister were so wasted, I wanted to make sure neither of you choked on your own vomit while you slept.”

  It’s then, with his hand raised, I notice the bandage wrapped around his knuckles. Spots of blood decorate the gauze in rust-colored splotches. A memory struggles to surface through the sludge of last night’s drunken haze. I remember sitting at the kitchen table with Emily and a group of guys. She’d been trying to teach me a card game called Asshole, but I lost every hand. And losing meant more drinking. The big guy to my left kept talking to me, his words floating farther and farther away until all I could do was nod. Then Lane was there, and the big guy suddenly wasn’t…

  I snap my head up. “You hit that big guy, didn’t you?”

  Frowning, he drops his hand to his side. “You’re welcome.”

  “You want me to thank you for acting like a Neanderthal?”

  He stands suddenly, the muscles in his jaw rigid. “This Neanderthal kept that guy from taking you home and having his way with you.”

  Horror twists around my body like strands of barbed wire. “What?”

  “The meathead said you agreed to let him take you home.”

  “But I never—”

  “I figured that. So when I said you were coming with me, he argued.” Lane glances at his bandaged hand. “Luckily we came to an agreement.”