One Night of Sin(20)

“Mitch has a message for you.” Paddy’s Irish brogue was soft and deadly. And total bullshit, because Gage knew for a fact that the guy’s parents didn’t have accents—they’d both been born in Boston, for chrissake.

“Yeah? What’s he got to say?” Gage readjusted his stance. He pressed his hands to his sides, letting the cigarette drop into his pocket.

“He wants you to reconsider your thoughts about the tourney.”

“I see.” He cocked his head. “’Fraid I can’t do that. Mitch knows where I stand.”

“That’s what he figured you’d say.” Paddy took an intimidating step forward. Cracked his knuckles, then smiled. “That’s where the second part of the message comes in. Mitch is hoping that a couple visits like this might help you change your mind.”

Monte, who’d walked to school with Gage every day when they were kids, offered a repentant look. “Nothing personal, man.”

Gage exhaled in resignation. “All right. Let’s get to it then.”

They attacked without warning, Paddy’s fist coming at him like a rattlesnake striking its prey. Gage blocked the punch with one hand and clipped Paddy in the jaw with the other. The man’s head snapped back, anger clouding his eyes, but Gage was too busy fending off Monte, who’d closed in on him. He got two jabs in, then a well-placed kick in his old friend’s crotch. Monte yelped in fury before retaliating, one meaty fist crashing into Gage’s left eye.

After that, he was fighting a losing battle. Someone yanked his arms behind his back, locked an iron-strong leg around his knees to keep him in place. Pain streaked through him when he felt another sharp pull on his arm.

Son of a bitch had wrenched his shoulder right out of the socket.

Fucking hell, that hurt.

No words echoed in the alley. Just a cacophony of muffled sounds. Thuds, grunts, the sharp smacks of fists against flesh. Gage blocked out the pain, same way he’d blocked it out when he was a kid and his dad was pounding on him. He wasn’t sure how long the beating lasted, but eventually he became aware of other noises. Footsteps. Shouts. Suddenly he was sagging forward, falling to his knees as his head swam and his pulse shrieked in his ears.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Reed’s voice. Coming from far, far away.

Gage blinked, trying to pinpoint where Reed was, but one eye was swollen shut and the other made out nothing but blurry shapes. He tasted copper in his mouth, felt moisture dripping down his chin, but he was too dazed to spit the blood out or wipe it away.

“Gage. Gage. You okay, man?” Reed again, concern ringing from his voice.

He cranked open his good eye, relief flooding his body when his friend’s face came into focus. “F-fine,” he croaked out. “I’m fine.”

“…ambulance,” he heard someone say. It sounded like Jerry.

“No.” Gage wheezed, struggling to catch his breath. “No hospitals.” He tried to get up, but his ribs ached like a motherfucker, shooting jolts of pain through his chest. A few were most likely broken. And yup, his shoulder was definitely dislocated, dangling uselessly as he managed to get on his feet.

“Gage. You’re fucked up,” Reed said firmly. “You need to get looked at.”

“I’m good,” he mumbled as he battled a rush of dizziness. “Just pop my shoulder back in, will ya?”

Disbelief echoed in his friend’s voice. “Sweet Jesus. You’re nuts.”

He stumbled toward the wall. “I’ll do it myself then.”

“Oh, for chrissake.” He caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. “Jerry, get over here.”

“Shouldn’t he be lying down for this?” their security guy demanded, equally dumbfounded.

“Yeah, but do you want to try to get this stubborn idiot to follow orders?”

Gage felt himself being moved, and then his arm was being lifted and hot agony rippled through him. Reed’s strong grip slowly pulled on his biceps, shifting his arm away from his torso. He bit the inside of his cheek so violently he tasted more blood in his mouth.

“You good, bro?”

“Just…do…it,” he said through clenched teeth.

The tension was unbearable. His shoulder burned, ached, pulsed with agony, and then a sickening crack sliced the air, and pain mingled with relief as the joint popped back into place.

As his vision blurred again, he leaned into Reed with a groan. “No…hospitals.” He felt himself losing consciousness. Fought it. Kept talking. “Just…take me home.”

“God, I really hate you sometimes,” Reed mumbled.

The black dots in front of his face got worse, an undulating sea of darkness beckoning at him. “One more thing.”

“Demanding bastard tonight, aren’t ya? What is it?”

They were in motion now, Gage’s bulk supported by Jerry and Reed as they carried him out of the alley. He had the vague impression of the sidewalk beneath his feet, but couldn’t seem to make his eyes focus.

“Skyler…” He swallowed, wincing from the taste of blood coating his throat. “Don’t call her…don’t…she can’t know…promise.”

“Goddamn it, Gage—”

“Promise.”

There was a pause, then Reed’s unhappy voice. “I promise.”

Gage nodded gratefully.

And passed the fuck out.

…

If it were anyone else calling, Skyler probably would have slept through the ringing of her phone, but she’d programmed a personal ringtone for Gage, and somehow her subconscious knew it. Her eyes snapped open and sought out the bedside clock. When she realized it was four in the morning, instant concern swept through her. She knew Gage wouldn’t call so late if it weren’t important.

She picked up immediately—and was startled when a voice that didn’t belong to Gage filled her ear.

“Skyler? It’s Reed.”

Her stomach clenched. Oh God. Something must be seriously wrong if Gage’s best friend was on the line.

“What happened?” she blurted out. “Is he okay?” The slight hesitation on the other end sent her heart rate into overtime. “Reed. Tell me what happened.”

“O’Donnell’s crew roughed him up.”

She swallowed a cold rush of fear. “How bad?”

“Bad. And the muleheaded mofo refused to go to the hospital, so I took him home. Can you—”

“I’m on my way.”

She hung up without another word and proceeded to dress in a panicky whirlwind, throwing on the first items of clothing she found. Then she flew down the stairs toward Lacey’s room, only to halt in her tracks when she remembered that her friend was at the hospital. Damn it. Lacey was a doctor—Skyler would have felt a million times better if her friend had been able to check on Gage with her.

How badly was he hurt? Why hadn’t he called her himself? Terrified thoughts buzzed through her mind as she slid into her car. Since it was so late, there was zero traffic on the road, but she forced herself not to drive double the speed limit. She couldn’t afford to get pulled over by a cop right now.

Panic and worry sizzled in her veins the entire way to Gage’s house. When she got there, all the lights were on, and Reed met her at the front door, his blue eyes grim.

“He’s in the living room.”

She was already pushing past him. She didn’t take off her shoes, just careened into the living room. Her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach when she saw Gage.

He was on the couch, flat on his back with his eyes closed. Well, with one eye closed—the other was swollen shut, black and purple and twice its normal size. Her breathing grew shallow as she examined the rest of him. A cut on his eyebrow, held together by a row of narrow butterfly stitches. More bluish bruises on his bare chest, white tape wrapped tightly around his torso. His hands were at his sides, and from where she stood, she noticed his knuckles were red and caked with blood.

Reed’s voice drifted in from the doorway. “We cleaned him up, taped up his ribs, and shoved some aspirin down his throat.”

Skyler sat next to Gage and gently touched the cheek that wasn’t bruised. He didn’t stir, massive chest rising and falling with each steady inhale and exhale.

“He was probably right about the hospital,” Reed added, albeit grudgingly. “The doctors wouldn’t have done much more than Jerry and I did. None of the cuts are deep enough for stitches, and there’s nothing they can do for his ribs.”

Skyler swallowed, then shifted her gaze to Reed. Another man stood next to him. Their employee Jerry, she assumed. “You guys can go,” she said softly. “I’ll stay here with him.”

Reed’s forehead creased. “You sure?”

She nodded. “Go. We both know he wouldn’t like having all of us fussing over him. It’ll just make him grumpy.”

Reed’s lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “You’re right about that.” He walked over and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. “Good luck with our patient. Though I have a feeling he’ll be grumpy regardless.”

Yeah, so did she, but there was no way in hell she was going anywhere.

She moved her attention back to Gage, effectively dismissing the other men. She heard their footsteps in the hall, the creak of the front door closing, but her focus remained on Gage. She squeezed his hand, then dipped her head and pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss. He still didn’t stir, and she didn’t try to rouse him. He needed to rest right now.