Fractured Fear (The Devils of New York #1)

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

SPENCER

S taying isn’t an option anymore. Especially after the attack then the flowers. Anthony found me. If he gets ahold of me again, I know he’ll lock me up and throw away the key. I’d rather die before I go back with him.

My bag is packed with the cash and clothes, the letters for Iris rest on top. I’ve added three more letters to the pile. They’re going to be upset when I’m gone, but hopefully by leaving a piece of me in these letters, my guys won’t hurt as badly. It tore me up inside to have to write them, but I can't leave without saying some kind of goodbye.

I grab Abuela from below the TV and add her to my duffle. I couldn’t leave her in Texas and I can’t leave her here either.

With my bag hidden in my room, I crawl to the couch, and prop myself up facing the door. My handgun rests next to me. I took some classes at a shooting range and while that doesn’t make me an expert marksman, I know the basics of how to use it.

My phone buzzes with an incoming text and I’m reluctant to look at it, but I have to know.

Unknown: Don’t you dare run from me again, Flower. See you soon.

I open my laptop and search for bus tickets. There’s one leaving Port Authority tomorrow afternoon and arriving in LA two days after that. Quickly purchasing the ticket before I chicken out, I set my laptop on the coffee table.

My head falls against the back of the couch and eventually I drift to sleep. When I wake in the morning, I’m on my side and there’s dried drool on my cheek. How I fell into such a deep sleep is a mystery, but beggars can’t be choosers.

With a yawn, I force myself from the couch. I suspect I’ll find Rio and Zane downstairs again, so I need to cover up the prominent dark circles under my eyes, but when I look in the mirror I notice the circles are gone and set the makeup aside.

After applying concealer and dressing in leggings and a cropped tank, I head downstairs ready for my run. The sight before me pulls me up short. Not only are Rio and Zane here, but so is Asher. All three looking seductively disheveled in their workout gear. I wonder if they slept out here again?

My gaze connects with Asher’s and I’m trapped, locked in his orbit. I never know where I stand with him. One minute he’s teasing me, purposely pushing my buttons, and the next he’s giving me the cold shoulder. But now? His beautiful ocean blues roam up and down my body repeatedly, and I sense his hunger, a craving for my flesh.

Rio’s eyes trail over my plain frame, but he looks at me as if I’m a cover model for a fashion magazine. He makes me feel beautiful. Desired. He catalogs every aspect of my body with his gaze. He always sees more than I want him to. Keeping my plans a secret from him is going to be especially difficult.

Zane’s assessment makes me feel cared for and treasured. Protected. His eyes linger on my hips. My leggings are like a second skin and have always been my go-to choice for pants, but under Zane’s inspection, I feel bare and exposed.

“Seriously guys?” I ask, masking my guilt.

Zane just shrugs unbothered, and Asher rolls his eyes as if he wasn’t on board with the car sleeping plan. Rio ignores my question and asks one of his own, “Care for some company?”

“Are we starting a running club or something?”

“Apparently,” Asher mumbles, barely loud enough to hear.

“You don’t have to come, big guy. Wouldn’t want to injure your old bones,” I snap at Asher.

“Not a chance, Princess. Like I said before, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Was it really only yesterday I met this brute of a man?

A sexy brute, but a brute, nonetheless.

I ignore all three of them and do my usual stretches so I don’t have a muscle spasm on my run. I don’t need to add “go to the ER again” to my to-do list.

When I’m done, I refuse to acknowledge their presence. Even though normal is a thing of the past, I can still pretend. All Around Me by Flyleaf blasts in my headphones, but I can’t focus on anything except how fucking awkward this all feels. It’s like I’m being escorted by the Secret Service. All that’s missing are the black sunglasses and the earpieces.

Before I know it, I realize I’m running towards Joey’s and decide I might as well keep going. He’s not going to be happy to see me, but tough luck. He deserves a goodbye too.

We finally arrive and Rio walks right on in then lays on the ground in the entryway. Zane enters and leans against the wall laughing at Rio’s dramatics. Asher is hardly out of breath. Chuckling, he steps over Rio and says, “Pussy.”

I whip around, hold up my finger, and scold him. “Take it back.”

“What? No.”

“Yes. Take it back,” I insist firmly.

“No. He’s acting like a wuss.”

“Your logic is flawed. A pussy is not a wuss. A pussy can take a fucking beating. A set of balls cannot.” I end my argument by glancing at the lower half of his body and forming a fist. He immediately takes a step back and covers my target with his hands.

“No need to test your theory. It’s fact, but I’m not taking it back.”

If looks could kill he’d be dead ten times over from my glare. “Fuck you, big guy.”

He just rolls his eyes at me as if I’m a cranky hormonal woman about to start her period. Yeah, definitely fuck him even if he looks sexy as hell with a light sheen of sweat covering his body.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

I whirl around and see Joey in his usual spot. I approach him with guarded steps as if I’m being reprimanded by a parent, but I pray my voice and body language seem normal and at ease. “I know you missed me.”

“I told you not to come back for a week,” Joey states unrelenting.

Once I’m at the desk, I lean towards him and lower my voice. “I came to say goodbye.”

Joey keeps his expression schooled, proving he picks up on more than most. “Call me when you get where you’re going, kid,” then louder so the men behind me can hear, he asks, “You good to train today?”

“Yep. Doc signed off on it and everything.” I give him a grateful smile.

“You’re a shit liar,” he leans to the side and eyes the guys. “You killed two of them and brought an extra.”

Loud enough for Asher to hear I say, “That’s Asher. He’s not one for pleasantries. He’s a caveman and only communicates with grunts and hand gestures.”

“Whatever he is, he still has to pay. You know I don’t give discounts for recruitment, right?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny old man.”

“By the way, you look like shit.” The corner of his mouth twitches. My heart warms because again, Joey knows what I need.

“And you look like a shriveled up dick.”