Page 48 of Risky Taste
I shake my head. “He left. Last night.”
Ed sighs, rubbing his temple. “Well, one of the detectives said he’s making a house call because he just got word from Heath, no less, that Declan met up with Kurt.”
I frown, my fork clattering to the plate. “Why would they want to talk to me about that?”
“You’re not the only one under the limelight anymore, unfortunately,” Ed says, his tone flat, pulling out a chair. “All of you are. Declan was one of your guys”—he points at Logan and Sebastian—“but he’s been hanging around you for the last week, Noah, so now everyone’s getting questioned. I told them they’re only allowed to speak with me present and I didn’t want to do it at the station. You’ve got about ten minutes to look presentable.”
I glance down, groaning loud, realizing I’m shirtless, my sweatpants low on my hips, and there’s a scatter of love bites across my neck and chest. No wonder Sebastian and Logan keep looking at me like they’re starving, their eyes lingering, heat flickering behind the worry. My face flames, and I shove back from the table, muttering, “Shit,” as I head for the stairs, their soft chuckles following me.
I dig through the dresser and yank on a hoodie, before running a hand through my hair, trying to look less like I just rolled out of Declan’s arms. Back downstairs, they’re waiting, Logan in aclean shirt, Sebastian’s jacket zipped, and Ed’s flipping through papers, his face grim. “What’s Heath saying?” I ask, sliding into my chair, my hands wrapping around the mug again.
“Claims Declan reached out to Kurt, met him somewhere,” Ed says, not looking up. “Could be bullshit, could be Kurt pulling strings through him. Either way, it’s got the cops sniffing around all of you now. They’re fishing and that picture’s still out there, stirring up noise. All I know is that Heath gave up a lot of information to the police. Don’t ask me how I got that information but he’s walking free because of it. He shouldn’t still be working with Kurt which is why it makes sense he’s calling in ‘tips’. He may no longer be Kurt’s ride or die but he’s definitely not our friend.”
I just nod, focusing on my coffee and greasy bacon, trying not to let the fear take over, even as Ed excuses himself to let in the officers that show up at the door. Two officers, different than the ones that dragged me to the station move to stand across from us at the kitchen table. They introduce themselves as Smisson and Yannis, both of them seemingly a bit confused and maybe irritated at the house call.
Yannis wastes no time as he sticks his hands on his belt, one hand dangerously close to his holstered gun. “Where’s Kurt now?” None of us answer but he doesn’t stop at that question. “What’s Heath doing? Where’s Declan fit in?”
It’s like they’ve already concluded that we’re guilty but Ed is just shaking his head, telling us to stay quiet. After all, at this point, any information we pour out might be used against us. I wince, hand on my temple, and Smisson notices. “That’s the third time. Why do you keep doing that? The officers mentioned an incident but we double-checked and there was still no record of anything in your file.”
Sebastian clears his throat, drawing the attention to himself. “Because we didn’t have it reported. Kurt trapped Noah in ahotel room. Threatened him, dumped whiskey on him, shot blanks by his ear to mess with him. Heath helped. Noah didn’t want it getting out but Kurt is now using it against him.
Yannis stares. “What the fuck?”
I nod and then regret the movement. “That’s where the picture came from. Shit, my head hurts.” I grab the table and wince again as the pain hits hard. Carl mentioned that it might be a few days before I was back to normal but this feels worse than it should be somehow. Especially when the pain splits through my head, the ringing in my ear almost deafening.
“We’re done,” Logan says, his voice faraway even if I know he’s right next to me. “He needs a doctor.” Sebastian grabs my arm, pulling me up, and I stumble, the room spinning around me. Ed says something to the detectives, but I can’t hear it clearly, everything all mixed up in my head as Logan snags the keys and Sebastian drags me outside.
The ride to the hospital is fuzzy. I’m slumped in the passenger seat of Logan’s truck, head against the window, pain coming in waves. Sebastian’s in the back, hand on my shoulder, keeping me steady. “Hang on, Bunny,” Logan pleads, glancing at me while he speeds down the road.
It takes me a few minutes to realize we’re not heading for the clinic but the main hospital which is fine with me because that’s where they have the good pain meds. Maybe someone will even put me to sleep for a while. The rest of it is a blur, someone carrying me, doors opening and closing, shouting that has me curling tighter into a chest.
Soft cotton hits my back as a groan tears from my throat, soft hands on one arm, a pinprick following and then the sudden sensation of relief a few moments later. My head starts to chill out, the pain fading, and I sink into the bed. “That’s the good stuff,” I mumble, laughing a little, feeling looser.
Logan’s by me, holding my hand tight, and Sebastian’s at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, watching. “We’re gonna get you better,” Logan says, kissing my forehead. “Promise.” His thumb rubs my knuckles, keeping me present. My gaze searches the room, a nurse still fiddling with machines and wires. “Declan’s alright, Bunny. He’ll be back before you know it.”
Those words are enough for me to relax a little more but I know that it’s really just a side effect of whatever drug they’re pumping into me. I close my eyes, blocking out the harsh lights, letting myself be pulled under. Maybe when I wake up, things will be better.
Fat chance of that.
Chapter thirty-five
DECLAN
I sit on the edge of the sagging bed in room 212 of the Sunshine Motel, the air thick with stale smoke and mildew. I’ve been waiting for hours, my patience fraying with every creak of this shitty place. Kurt told me to come here, alone, and I did, hauling ass up the stairs like a good little soldier, but he’s nowhere, and the silence is eating at me.
Then my phone buzzes and I snatch it up, Kurt’s name flashing across the screen. I answer fast not hiding the irritation in my voice. “Where the fuck are you?”
He chuckles, the sound grating on my nerves. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it, cut the others off, but it seems you have. I had to do my own checks, Declan. Your name came up in the investigation—cops sniffing around, asking about you. Here’s the new address.” He rattles off a street a town over, some dive bar I’ve never heard of.
“Stop fucking playing with me,” I snap, standing, my free hand clenching into a fist. “I’m here, like you said. Quit jerking me around.”
“You mean the same way you were playing with my brother?” Kurt fires back. “Look, I’m making sure I’m cautious. I don’t know who to trust anymore. Heath’s a lying scumbag—gave up all the details the second they leaned on him, got immunity somehow, and now everyone’s vying for me. So excuse me if I’m a little on edge.” His voice cracks, paranoia seeping through, and I grit my teeth, picturing his smug face, unraveling but still cocky.
I hang up, no goodbye, and storm back out to the car. None of what Kurt just told me surprises me, however, if Kurt keeps trying to ‘test’ my loyalty, we might get somewhere dangerously close to the shit we used to pull years ago. It always started with ‘can I trust you’—leading me to empty spots, making sure I came alone, taking pictures to prove where I was…
And then it led into blind submission.
I’m hoping this doesn’t lead to that because there will be no avoiding a jail sentence under the guise of ‘I was just following orders.’
