Fractured Fear (The Devils of New York #1)

Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

SPENCER

“ F lowerrrrrr,” another round of chills zips up and down my back at his call for me. “Floooooower.” His voice echoes from upstairs. I compel myself to move again even though my mind is screaming for me to go back to the safety under the bed.

At the end of the hallway, I pause and open my ears for any noise.

A clank rings out from the second floor.

Desperate to believe they’re both back in the office, I creep through the living room. Every step brings another wave of terror. Terror at the thought of being spotted. Terror at the possibility of making a noise.

I jump and a scream almost escapes me when a crash of thunder shakes the windows along the back of the house. Allowing my gaze to wander above me, I check for any signs that they heard my almost shriek.

A flash of lightning casts light on the second floor and I see a reflection in the window of a figure outlined on the balcony right above me.

The face of my fiancé smiles wide as he says, “Gotcha.”

I wake with a scream. Sweat dripping down my spine. There are hands on me. I try to jerk away, but they pull me back to my pillow.

“Shhh. You’re safe, Spencer.”

“No one will get you while we’re here.”

I’m encompassed by the faint smell of mint and cedar. I’m safe. It wasn’t real.

He didn’t find me tonight.

The bellow of my alarm wakes me, and I consider turning it off and falling back to sleep. I was attacked so I deserve to sleep in, right?

Wrong. He got the drop on me. A day without training is not something I can afford.

With one eye open, because I’m still in denial, I stumble to my phone and turn off the alarm.

I can’t believe I fell back asleep after my nightmare. That’s not usual for me, but I won’t look the gift horse in the mouth. Sleep is something I normally lack.

The temptation to inhale the scent on my pillows is strong. They smell like them . I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’m positive it’s why I was able to fall back asleep.

Maybe I’m going crazy.

I prepare for my run to the gym and I remember I’m going to have to go by that spot. Avoidance isn’t an option. It’s literally impossible. I’m not moving apartments, so I might as well get it over with.

Normal. That’s what I’m going for.

I exit my building alert, and my gaze connects with the dynamic duo who are effortlessly carving out a permanent place in my life.

Fuck. What are they doing here? Did they actually sleep in that toddler car?

They take in my appearance and jog over to me.

“Good morning, Spencer. Going for a run?” Zane is a little too chipper for the early hour. His hair is slightly rumpled in a sexy way that has me melting on the spot.

“Uh, yes?” Why does that come out as a question?

“You don't seem so sure,” Rio teases.

My voice goes more firm. “I mean, yes. I run every morning to the gym.”

“Of course you do,” he huffs out.

“Uhh. Yeah. So I better get going.” My statement trails off and I aim to move around them, but Zane hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me close.

“You really think we’d let you go anywhere alone after the other night?”

Rio uses his hand to turn my attention to him and runs his thumb along my lower lip. “We let you go and something bad happened. Worse could’ve happened. Never again, Mama.”

“I guess y’all can drive alongside me as I run.”

“No need. We’re ready. Let’s go.” Zane’s words have me taking in their attire. Gym shorts, T-shirts, and running shoes. How could they possibly have changed in that cramped car? Did someone see? A rush of jealousy overtakes me. The thought of another woman seeing them would cause a rage I don’t appreciate. It's like being possessed by a green demon. If they continue to elicit this kind of reaction from me, I won’t be responsible for my actions.

The reality of the situation hits me. They slept in that mini car to protect me and now they want to go running with me. Is this still a joke? If it is, I’m not seeing the punchline.

“Are you sure? You know you’re not my bodyguards, right?”

“I mean I can run behind you if you want,” Rio says as he waggles his eyebrows.

“I missed my workout yesterday, so I need to make up for it.” Zane stretches his muscular arms over his head. I’m distracted by his rigid abs as his shirt rises slightly.

Nope. Horny Spencer is not welcome.

Shouldn’t she be though? This internal back and forth is giving me whiplash.

When I think about it, they stayed with me in the hospital, watched over me while I slept, made me laugh and feel safe. I’m starting to think this isn’t a joke. They actually care. They want to be here. But can I handle two men? I barely remember to do my laundry.

“No, no. With me is fine, but it’s a long run. Don’t you want to go home and rest? Sleeping in that toy Honda couldn’t have been comfortable.”

“Are you trying to get rid of us, Spence?” Zane crowds my space and trails a finger down the side of my arm. I’m so happy I’m wearing long sleeves to hide the chills that erupt all over.

“Of course not.” Panting out my words is a dead giveaway, letting him know that his touch riles me.

“Then lead the way, Spencer,” he says as he takes a step back and releases me.

My headphones go in and I wince, feeling guilty that I’m tuning them out, but I need this. I need to reset. They’re disrupting my routine, and I have a feeling if I told them they couldn't run with me, they’d still follow.

Brain Stew by Green Day blasts through my ears, effectively shutting out the buzz of the city around me. After a few light stretches, I’m ready. Starting off at an easy pace warms up my body. I peek to my left and sure enough, Zane is right there, and to my right is Rio. I don’t know how they feel about cardio, but they clearly don’t hate it enough to skip the run and drive alongside me.

Or maybe they like you that much.

My stride picks up speed, leaving my intrusive thoughts behind on the sidewalk. Rio and Zane adjust with me without breaking a sweat. I may not be competitive, but their natural athleticism feels like a slight. I run alone. It’s quieter that way and I’m able to focus on me, but here is Rio with his panty-dropping smile and Zane with his hands that make me wet at the sight of them.

Horny Spencer needs to take a backseat.

Attempting to leave my hormones in the dust, I increase to an all out sprint. They stay with me, but now this feels like a race. A race I cannot let them win.

That numbing burn spreads through my legs as I push myself faster. I have reached that point when the brain isn’t sure you can keep up with the speed you’re going, but I will not let myself faceplant on the asphalt in front of two drop-dead gorgeous men. Talk about embarrassing. I’ve done enough of that in front of them. The tally doesn’t need an additional mark.

We’re all struggling for air when we stop at the entrance to the gym. Zane brings his hands to his head while Rio bends over, rests his hands on his knees, and wheezes out, “You’re trying to kill us, aren’t you?”

“What gave you that idea?” I pant with a self-satisfied smile.

“No one likes cardio, but you practically begged us to come with you and then you run like your pants are on fire the whole way here. I don’t want to die young. I still have many good years ahead of me,” Rio rasps.

“What?” I blurt out. “I didn’t beg—” When I look at Rio’s face, I realize he’s teasing me and I roll my eyes. “Hilarious. Okay, well I’m going inside. I’ll see y’all later I guess.”

With reflexes I should have expected, Zane snags my hand, preventing me from walking away. “You think we’re just going to leave you here?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you have to go to work?”

I really need them to go. My workout needs to be distraction free, and I need to feel the sting of my fists connecting with the bag to chase my demons away.

“Not at six in the morning. My captain may run the station like a drill sergeant, but he’s not unfeeling. We adhere to normal work hours.”

Rio raises his hand. “I’m self-employed, so you’re stuck with us for now.”

“Oh…That’s good…” I fumble over my words trying to come up with more excuses for them to leave, but before I can put together an argument, Zane holds the door open and gestures for me to go ahead of him.

With my defeat accepted, I go inside.

Joey is right where he always is and greets me as he does every day. “You look like shit.”

Finally, something normal.

“And you look like a shriveled up dick.”

Joey does a double take and drops the paperwork he was sifting through at the front desk. Storming over to me he shouts, “What the fuck happened!”

Taken aback by his outburst, it takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about my banged up face. Not wanting to draw more attention to my bruises, I play it down. “I’m fine. It looks worse than it is.”

“Don’t lie to me, kid. You’re a shit liar. Now what happened?”

“It’s no big deal. I swear I’m okay.”

Joey’s eyes snap over my shoulder to Zane and Rio who have been standing back and observing the exchange.

“Who the fuck are you two?”

Zane steps forward. “Detective Zane Kingston.”

“Rio Flores.”

“Why are you hanging out with a detective and a tattooed bad boy? What’s going on?”

Zane snickers at Joey’s observation of Rio.

I sigh and surrender to the fact that Joey won’t stop until I give him the truth. “There was an incident when I got home from the bar the other night. But I’m fine. I fought him off.”

Joey looks me up and down, assessing my injuries. He still looks pissed as hell but says, “Good. Does he look worse than you?”

“I’m not sure. He grabbed me from behind, but I scratched him pretty good, took my knee to his face, and kicked him where the sun don’t shine.”

“Attagirl,” his brief smile warms my heart. “I’m proud of you, but you need to go back home and rest.”

“What? No. I need to be here. Please don’t make me leave.” Tears well up in my eyes.

I’ve only come to tears a few times in front of Joey. I know it makes him uncomfortable. Hell. It makes me uncomfortable.

Joey deflates. “Calm down, calm down. I won’t make you leave, but if I sense that you’re wavering in the slightest, you’re going home. I’ll drive you myself if I have to.”

My shoulders drop and I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Thank you.”

On the mats, I stretch as usual. Hopefully Zane and Rio will get the hint and leave. I can’t fight the darkness with them watching. No one needs to see inside my head and I’m too tired to school my face with every wave of emotion.

By the time I’m done, Zane is next to me stretching as well.

“I’m pretty sure you need to be a member to be over here.”

“Good thing I’m the newest member of Joey’s Gym.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

“Me too,” Rio says from my other side, making me jump.

Fuck. I can’t keep letting them breeze by my defenses.

“I figure if we’re going to do this every day, I’d save money with a membership instead of getting a day pass every time.” Zane’s reasoning has merit, but this is still blowing my mind.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I don’t know what’s so confusing about it,” Rio slows his speech as if I’m not understanding what they’re saying—which I’m not. “We. Got. Memberships.”

I breathe in deep and let it out. Lord, I'm not going to survive these men if they stick around like this.

Normal. I’m getting back to normal. Review what I know: He tried to take me, but I’m okay. I’m not dead. I’m here getting back to my routine.

But I’m going to have to leave to keep the people I care about safe.

Now review what I feel: Scared that someone got to me so easily. Terrified that the ‘someone’ is my ex-fiancé. Confused as to why Zane and Rio insist on hanging around. They say they're interested, but this feels…different.

This hot detective and sexy lawyer have disrupted everything. A few weeks ago, I never would have allowed two men in my apartment for pizza. I never would have entertained the idea of spending the night, and I can’t ignore them. My body reacts to everything they say and do, betraying my own thoughts in the process. My eyes are constantly drawn to them, it makes me feel like a creep. The number of times I have caught myself staring is embarrassing, and more than half the time they’re staring right back, unapologetically.

My feet follow Joey to the bag hanging along the wall. I wrap my hands and lose myself in the motions.

Right foot slightly in front of my left, feet apart, knees slightly bent. I tighten my core with each swing while Joey stands on the other side holding the bag and watching without judgment. He never would. Instead of judgment, I see concern.

Please not here. I can’t cry here, but I can’t stop the tears from falling. I can’t stop the flashes of memory.

Punch. Jab. One. Two.

Running as he calls out that haunting nickname.

One. Two.

Hiding under the bed as he walks by.

One. Two.

His laughs while I lay broken on the checkered tile.

“Spencer.”

One. Two. One. Two.

“Spencer.”

Waking up on the cold floor used and beaten.

“Spencer. Baby, please.” Someone grabs my shoulders and on instinct I turn with my fists ready.

I won’t go down so easily this time. I’m not fractured by my fear like I was that night. He left me unconscious and bleeding, and I got up stronger than ever.

I swing at the man behind me, but he easily blocks my hit with his arm. I bring my left into action and aim for his gut. He dodges the blow and follows up with a swing of his own. I duck, go to the floor, and attempt to sweep his legs out from under him. He gracefully jumps, avoiding my foot.

We fall into a rhythm. Me swinging and battling through the deep red haze of anger. Anger at him . Anger at myself for not being stronger. My opponent dodges and blocks every one of my hits, only throwing a few himself. I land a few punches, but not many. I’m lost in a mess of my own making. Too lost to be present and understand what’s right in front of me.

When I go to land another punch, he grabs both of my wrists and pulls me in close. I begin to thrash like a chained wild animal.

“Angel, come back to me. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Angel. He never called me Angel.

Blinking, I find that it’s not him in front of me. I’m not in that dreaded house that was my prison. The prison where I was suffocating. Dying day by day and didn’t even realize it.

Instead there’s a set of tender emerald eyes gazing back at me, begging me.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

Zane ignores my concern. “Where did you go, Spencer?”

“Nowhere. I’m fine. I got lost in the moment is all.”

“Spencer, that wasn’t lost in the moment. That was lost in the dark.” Rio says from behind me, concern lacing his every word. His hands land delicately on my hips. Warming the chill that made its way down my spine.

The inside of my cheek gets the brunt of my stubbornness as I gnaw on it to keep the words inside. This truth can never see the light of day. No one can ever know. I can't tell them how I was given everything, showered with expensive gifts, while the monster I lived with thrived. What would they think? Would they still see me the same way?

All I can do is shake my head. If I open my mouth now I’ll give in to the yearning to tell them and let them wipe my slate clean.

Zane studies me, his gaze a little too perceptive, as always. I allow him to see my vulnerability, to see how much my secret would kill me, maybe even kill him and Rio.

“Okay, fine. But this conversation isn’t over.” Zane concedes.

“Let’s get you home, Mama.” Rio brushes his lips tenderly across my cheek.

I turn to Joey who has been watching our whole exchange. He’s too observant like Zane. But again, there’s no judgment.

“Go home, kid. Get some rest. I don’t want to see you here tomorrow, got it? You need rest. In fact, don’t come back for the rest of the week.”

“What? Joey, please. I’m fine.”

“Get a run in if you need to,” he interrupts. “But you need to heal.” He approaches me slowly as if he’s walking up to a predator, which is odd. I may have fought off an attacker, but I’m not close to his level of skill.

He tentatively pulls me away from Rio and Zane. “You need to heal this”—he points to the scrapes and bruises on my face—“and this,” he adds and points to my heart. “It’s time, Spencer. Get your head on straight. The gym can only get you so far. You need to forgive yourself and let go of whatever you’re blaming yourself for.”

“I’m not blam?—”

“I’m old. Not blind.” Joey doesn’t let me get another word in as he gives me his back and strolls away.

Defeated, I allow Rio and Zane to guide me out of the gym. As we pass the front desk where Joey relocated, he calls out, “Don’t let her back here tomorrow, ya hear?”

They both give a slight chin lift at Joey. His look back is one of respect with a hint of fear.

Seriously? They’re not my keepers. My guys don’t get to dictate how I spend my time.

No. Not my guys. Not my anything. They’re just two men who came with me to the gym, who I almost kissed, and who I can’t stop thinking about…that’s all.

On our run back to my apartment, Rio and Zane won’t let me go faster than a jog. Every time I try to speed up, Zane snags my elbow and Rio grabs the other. Even though their simple touch is a precautionary one, I can't help but be annoyed at the overprotective gesture.

When we get to the sidewalk in front of the studio, I halt ready to give them my “you need to back off speech,” but Rio beats me to the punch.

“Asher will be by later. We both have to go to work, but he has the next few days off, so he’ll be with you in the studio and gallery while you work.”

“Umm. I think the fuck not,” my well-thought-out speech has completely gone out the window and landed right in the middle of a pile of rat shit that has caught fire because how dare they. “I appreciate the safety instincts guys, but I can protect myself. I more than proved that the other night.”

“He won’t be in the way, Spence. I promise.” Zane attempts to reassure me.

“It’s not that. I don’t even know him and he’s just going to hang around all day? Fuck that. And again, I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“You got a mouth on you, Mama. I like that,” Rio says, swiping his thumb across my lower lip.

“No you don’t, sir. You’re not going to distract me right now. I don’t want a bodyguard nor do I need one.”

“Sir? I could get used to that. Want to try that kind of name calling upstairs in your bed?” Rio waggles his eyebrows.

“Ugh. You two are impossible. Let me say this plain and simple,” I place my hands on my hips and emphasize my next words. “No. No bodyguard.”

“It’s happening. Might as well get on board now so it’s not awkward when Ash gets here.” Yet again, Zane’s reasoning leaves me baffled.

“It’s going to be awkward no matter what! Have you met me?”

“If I had the time, I’d spank you for being a brat,” Zane invades my space. He lowers his head so it's even with my ear. “So we’ll have to save that for later. Go upstairs, baby, and get ready for work.” He nips my lobe and my traitorous pussy floods.

“Go on,” Zane urges as he spins me around and smacks my ass. I jolt and scurry upstairs.

I’m not ready to meet the final member of this bizarre, yet hot as fuck, trio.

Please let Asher be a wrinkly seventy-year-old man.