Page 23
Story: Duchess of Forsyth
Whatever it was, I’m not questioning it, because it’s all too clear how close Nick came to dying.
Once Sy has closed the bedroom door, and I’m alone with Nick, I stand over him, staring down at the bandage covering the bullet wound. The opposite side is the tattoo where I kissed him after he won his fight. Slowly, even though I probably shouldn’t, I peel off the bandage to inspect the wound. The bullet shredded his throat, nearly taking out his jugular. God, one millimeter over. Less than that.
I try to stop my hands from shaking as I replace the bandage, tearing off new strips of tape to keep it securely in place, but the wave of emotion has been building since this all started, and for once I can’t hold it back.
This man has proven he’ll do anything for me. He’ll fight for me.Killfor me. I know he’ll challenge me on my bullshit and insecurities. I love him for it. Which is why I finally blurt outwhat I’ve been holding in since I first saw him dying on the table: “I’m so fucking pissed at you.”
Despite the tremble in my voice, my words come out harsh, especially in the quiet of the room. I know Nick can’t hear me. As soon as it was safe to give him a sedative, Lex made sure he was out. Good. The last thing I need is for him to hear what I’m about to say. No.Unleash.
“You’ve hurt me before, Nick. You’ve scared me, but nothing like this.Nothinglike seeing you with blood spilling out of your neck. Like seeing your skin pale as death and your lips turn blue.” I take a deep breath, but it falters, slipping into a sob. “You almost died on me. Onthem. You almost changed our lives forever because you think you’re invincible.” I steady myself. “You think that just because you ran around South Side and made it out unscathed, or got in the ring with Perez and won back your title, or held a gun to your temple in the Baron King’s crypt and survived his fucked-up, insane games, that you’ll live for-fucking-ever. Well, you won’t. You’re flesh and blood. You’re human, whether you want to believe it or not.”
I exhale, feeling a weight slowly lift off my shoulders, and take his hand, threading our fingers together. I flip them over and trace the letters on his knuckles.
“You can stop fighting now. Sy is King. Killian wants change. Verity is working to make East End different. My father…” I swallow, not allowing myself to think about what I did to my territory, of the destruction I caused. “Lionel is gone, which means that we should be able to take a breath and you can stay out of the line of fire.”
Of course, this isn’t entirely true. Brice Oakfield, looking to settle old scores, took a shot at Nick tonight. There are lingering factions of old-school Forsyth all over the city. There are missing girls, snatched right off the streets in broad daylight. Dealers slinging Scratch from the rubble in the North. Disgruntledformer frat boys looking to make a mark. But I want it to be true. I need it to be, just until he’s back to me, safe and strong.
“I know you took to the streets, took to South Side, for answers.” I take a deep breath. “Well, you have them. You have your answers now. You have me. You have your brother and your best friend.” I bend and press a kiss against his lips. “I love you, Nick Bruin. And if you ever do something like this again, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Nick
“You know,the polite thing to do, since I’m in some kind of medically induced sexile, would be to at least leave the door open so I can watch you have sex.”
I admit it. I’m a terrible patient. Impatient. Bored. Irritable. And horny as fuck. Waking up to the soft floaty sounds of my girl’s orgasm as she gets pounded by my brother and best friend in the next room isn’t helping. The raging boner in my shorts isn’t either.
It’s not the fact that they’re fucking that bothers me. It’s the fact that they’re fuckingwithoutme.
“What sex?” Remy says, tucking his shirt into his pants. He spares a glance at Sy and Lav, and I don’t miss the quick wink. To their credit, I know they waited until I was asleep and probably made a valiant attempt at being quiet.
Unfortunately, my sex-dar is impeccable, even in my sleep.
“The sex that you reek of,” I mutter from my spot on the couch. It’s been a week or so since I refused to get back in the hospital bed they had brought in, choosing to camp out in the living room. I’m dressed in a half-zipped black hoodie and everytime Lav walks in the room her eyes skip over my chest and go straight to the white bandage that is still plastered over the wound on my neck. Underneath it’s no longer bloody and raw, but healing. My eyes lift to hers and I shoot her a glare and add, “And that’s all over your face.”
“My face?” She touches the corner of her puffy, red lips, confirming my suspicion that she was just sucking one, if not two, cocks.
“I’m not talking ‘bout jizz, although thanks forthatvisual.” I roll my eyes. “Trust me, Little Bird, you have a completely identifiable ‘I just got fucked’ face.”
Her jaw drops in offense. “I don’t have a ‘just got fucked face’.”
My brother, best friend, and I look at one another and we all laugh–well, until the twinge in my neck shoots a pain down my shoulder and arm.Fuck.
Remy circles his arms around Lav and traps her close. “You do, Vin, but it’s hot. Just makes me want to fuck you again.”
Jealous heat builds in my chest at the simple way he’s got his arms around her. I know I shouldn’t be petty about this. I’m alive. I’m off all the tubes and drips that had me chained to that bed. Even I can admit it was touch-and-go for a minute and I’m damned lucky to be here.
Fucking Oakfield. It’s always the times when everything seems to be going smoothly. It was just a regular exchange of some hardware, or at least that’s how it seemed, until Oakfield decided to sign his death certificate. Because that’s all it was. He didn’t even take me out. Nah, he took a shot at me and fuckingmissed. Remy said he cried when he was down on his knees and he asked him if it was worth it.
Didn’t even take it like a man.
Thank God, Pace filmed it. I’ve been watching that shit on a loop.
But now that I’m actually getting out of bed, eating real food, showering, and weaning off the meds, I’m impatient. I want my girl. I want LB and her sweet, tight pussy.
She slips out of Remy’s arms and sits beside me on the couch. I’m greeted by her well-fucked scent, making my cock throb between my legs. “How are you feeling?” She touches my forehead with warm, soft fingertips. Fuck, I’m desperate. “You look flushed. You don’t have a fever do you?” Ever since Lex drilled it into us that if I get an infection, he’ll have no choice but to send me to the hospital, Lav has been obsessing.
“I’m fine.” I rest my hand on her thigh, ignoring the strain down my side with every movement. I just want to touch her. Feel her and push aside the intrusive thoughts that I could’ve lost this forever. I dip my fingers below the hem of her skirt to feel the soft skin. “Just tired. But also tired of sleeping,” I add a dramatic groan, “and did I mention bored?”
It’s not that they haven’t tried to alleviate my boredom. There’s been a constant parade of visitors in the loft. Pop and Dad came as soon as Sy told them what happened. Our mother, Sarah, was noticeably absent, making it clear she had been left out of the loop–at least for now. God bless whoever lets her know. Mama B arrived with an army of cutsluts carrying enough food to feed an army, stocking the pantry and freezer. Since then there’s been a steady stream of frat brothers visiting, giving updates and reports on what’s happening in the territory. I’ve made a couple of trips out of the house. Nothing major–and nothing public. I went with the guys to meet up with the Royals at the Courthouse, but that was low risk. Even my quasi-doctor was on site. None of that is enough to make up for what I’ve been missing of life. There’s been no training, no family dinners, no Furies, and definitely no fucking.
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