Page 5 of Stone Cold Bad (Stone Brothers #1)

FOUR

COLT

T he rest of the bar patrons had stood by without interfering as we smeared the place with the three assholes. After one had said something harsh to the girls sitting with Slade, my mouthy brother had told them to go home and blow each other. That was all it took.

Hunter had walked in just as Slade was being dragged out of the booth by all three of them.

That was the beginning of a really bad night for those three.

The other people in the bar seemed to know the guys, and no one felt the urge to help them.

It would have been the same for Hunter, Slade and me if we’d been at our local bar and someone had come in and beat the shit out of us.

Of course, I didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

The three men were about as wrecked as they could be, so we left the bar, figuring it was time to get back to the boat and back home.

As we walked out of the bar, a man who looked vaguely familiar and who was holding his crotch and cussing as if someone had just kicked him in the balls, staggered past us. He seemed to be looking for someone.

“If you’re looking for three pussies who think they know how to fight, head inside.” Hunter pointed back with his thumb.

The man stopped to stare at us for a second and then hobbled inside with his sore nuts.

“I know that guy,” Slade said.

“He’s a bookie. I’ve used him for laying down bets on fights and football games. Haven’t used him for awhile. He’s a real suave piece of shit.” Hunter pulled out a cigarette. “Shit, my knuckles hurt. Is there still some ice in the chest?”

“Probably. Speaking of ice, it’s cold as hell out here.

” I looked around wondering where the girl had gone.

It wasn’t a great night to be out. That’s when it occurred to me, the bookie must have been looking for the girl.

He might even have been the one to leave the bruises on her arm.

He was lucky he was already out of my reach as I put those little puzzle pieces together.

I would have loved to have left his face print on the bar counter.

“Visibility is pretty bad out there,” Slade said. “You think the light is going to be enough in this pea soup?”

I jumped onto deck first. “Should be fine because we’ll be the only people stupid enough to be out in pea soup.”

Hunter hopped onboard and went toward the pilot house for ice. He stopped at the tool box. “Who left the tool box open?”

“Wasn’t me,” Slade said as he untied the line from the cleat.

“Don’t look at me,” I said.

“Shit, my fillet knife is missing.” Hunter leaned down and fished through the box. He straightened and looked around. “Someone must have climbed onboard and robbed us. Good thing we got rid of our cargo before we stopped for drinks.”

“We might be stupid enough to take the boat out with zero visibility, but if we’re ever stupid enough to leave twenty thousand dollars of cocaine on our boat while we slip into a bar for beer—” Slade started, but Hunter held up his hand to silence him.

My gaze followed Hunter’s. A line of wet puddles led from the stern and disappeared behind the pilot house. I looked at him and he nodded. Slade climbed onboard. The three of us rounded the pilot house ready to take on our stowaway.

A small figure was huddled down in the shadowy pile of nets. The person didn’t move or flinch, even with our heavy footsteps making the deck creak. I walked over and kicked the bottom of the person’s shoe.

Our stowaway jumped up with a gasp of terror. The sharp, gleaming blade of the fillet knife arced around as she swung her arm wildly at me.

I leaned back away from the tip of the blade and then snatched the girl’s wrist. “You’re going to hurt someone with that thing, darlin’.”

She kicked toward my knee but missed. The sudden movement had pushed the hood from her sweatshirt off her head. Her light blonde hair nearly glowed white in the weak moonlight.

“Hey, it’s number fifty-three,” Slade said from behind me.

The girl’s blue eyes darted back and forth as if she had no idea where she was. She held the knife firmly in front of her, but it was obvious she hardly had the strength to stand, let alone stab someone.

I stepped closer. She backed up. “Hey, it’s all right. We’re not going to hurt you.”

She seemed to recognize my voice. “It’s you,” she said in a weak, sad whisper. A violent tremble started in her hands, and she dropped the knife. She swayed on her feet, and her long lashes fluttered down. Her knees gave out. I lunged forward and caught her.

“Do you know her?” Hunter asked.

“This is the girl those assholes were looking for.” I lifted her into my arms. “Need to get her up to the pilot house and under a blanket. Her skin feels like ice.” I glanced back at Slade. “Are we about ready to shove off?”

“Yep.”

“Good, let’s get out of here before they come looking for her.”

I carried our beautiful and very cold stowaway up to the pilot house. Hunter followed. The girl was shaking hard as I pressed her against me, hoping my body heat would help.

Hunter pulled out the emergency kit. “I think we’ve got one of those weird foil blankets in here. Supposed to be good for keeping people warm. Or at least that’s what I’ve seen in movies.” He pulled out a cellophane package and ripped it open.

“I’ve got to get her out of these wet clothes.

” I lowered her onto the bench running along the back wall of the pilot house.

Her heavy lids opened, and she stared at me.

With the exception of her pink cheeks, her skin was much paler than it had been when I’d had her warm and in my arms back in the bar.

I crouched down in front of her. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

She blinked slowly as if she was trying to figure out the answer to my question. The hypothermia had really worked a number on her. “Jade,” she said. It seemed to take all her energy.

“Jade? Pretty name. I’ve got to take your wet clothes off, Jade, so we can wrap you in our special foil wrapper.” I unlaced her boots and slid them off her feet.

She stared down at my hand as I unzipped her sweatshirt. “How did you find me?” she asked.

“I didn’t. You found me.” I slipped the sweatshirt off her shoulders. Hunter started the engine. The dim bulbs of the pilot house flickered overhead but didn’t give much light. Still, it would have been impossible not to notice the red lines on her neck.

She winced as I reached up and touched her neck. “That bookie, the one who sent the thugs to find you, did he do this?”

Her throat moved with a swallow, and her eyes shut with the pain. She didn’t answer me, and it wasn’t my business. Of course, that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t fucking kill the guy the next time we crossed paths.

I reached for the t-shirt she was wearing. She pulled back from my touch. “I don’t want to be fifty-four too. Please. I just don’t want to feel anything for the rest of the night.” Tears pooled in her eyes.

I stroked her cheek. “I need to get you warm. That’s all.

I promise.” She lifted her arms as if there were heavy weights hanging from the ends of them.

I pulled her shirt off but left the lacy pink bra.

“Let’s shimmy this skirt off of you. Panties can stay.

” I unbuttoned her skirt. She leaned against me for support as I slid off the wet fabric.

Hunter helped me wrap her in the foil blanket. A faint smile crossed her face as she watched us. “I feel like a roast going into an oven.” She looked at me. “An oven, damn, that sounds so darn good right now. I’d just slather myself in butter and crawl inside.”

I touched her bottom lip. “At least your teeth aren’t chattering anymore.”

Slade came up to the pilot house and grinned as he held up a bottle of whiskey. “Nothing like a swig of liquid fire to heat up the blood.”

He unscrewed the top and held it out. Jade lifted her arm out of the blanket and took hold of it. Her face scrunched up as she drank the whiskey.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone look so damn cute drinking whiskey,” Slade said.

She pressed her hand against her mouth and concentrated on swallowing. Then she took a deep breath. “That’s really awful.” She leaned back in her foil wrap. “But thank you. I feel better already.”

She held up the bottle, but Slade put out his palm. “Keep it. You might need more.”

The engine rumbled and the boat vibrated as we got to open water. I glanced through the windows. Chalky gray fog clouded the view. The light on the bow looked like a ball of fire in the thick, cold mist.

Jade took another few drinks of whiskey and handed me the bottle. I took a few swallows and put it down on the ground. The thin foil crinkled around our saltwater drenched stowaway. Even cold, shivering and miserable she was incredible.

She scooted closer to me. “I don’t want to sound greedy, seeing as how you guys shared your giant burrito wrapper with me and everything, but can I have some more of your body heat?”

“I think I’ve got some to spare.”

She crawled onto my lap and pressed her face against my chest. It made my throat tighten as if someone had clamped fingers around it.

I couldn’t remember the last time something had produced a lump in my throat.

Emotion, feelings and, hell, even love had been turned off in all of us Stone brothers long ago.

You couldn’t grow up with our father and have emotions.

There was just way too much pain. We stopped feeling and life got easier.

But holding this girl, a girl who seemed to have a pretty fucked up life too, made my throat ache. I tightened my arms around her.

She clamped the silver blanket shut with her hand and adjusted her bottom in my lap. “So, what was she like?”

I looked down at her. “What was who like?”

“Lucky number one.” She yawned, closed her eyes and rested her head against me.

Instinctively, my arms tightened their hold, and all I could think was that I wanted to protect her.

“Fifty-three sucks. I want to be lucky number one.” Her body stopped trembling.

She relaxed in my arms and fell fast asleep.