Crash & Carnage by Emma Slate
Chapter 26
“I’ll call when I can,”Boxer said. “It’ll probably be sporadic, though.”
I nodded. “I get it. I work tomorrow afternoon.”
“Feel free to text me any time. Pictures are great, too. Preferably dirty stuff. I like the dirty stuff.”
Laughing, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’m well aware.”
One of his hands grabbed my behind and the other snaked up my shirt and gently caressed my breast.
A zing of pleasure vibrated through my core. “Boxer, the boys are waiting for you.”
He sighed and slowly removed his hands from my skin. “I’ve already got plans for you when I get back.”
“Make a list,” I teased. “And I’ll make sure to stock your fridge with energy drinks.”
Boxer let out a booming laugh. “Damn, woman. You sure do make it hard to walk away from you.”
I stood on my toes so I could kiss him. Our relationship was new, and we were in the throes of pure obsession with one another. I hoped like hell it never waned. How did people stay together and not grow bored?
“Linden,” he growled against my lips. “When my tongue is in your mouth, I’d appreciate it if your brain could get the damn memo and stop thinking.”
“You and me both, boyo,” I joked. I pushed against his chest.
He reached for my hand and turned over my palm, dropping a set of keys into it.
“What’s this?” I asked in confusion.
“Keys to my place.”
“Keys to your—”
“Don’t get all weird on me,” he warned.
I stared at the keys for a moment. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
“I’m sure.” He grinned. “The question is, are you ready for this. And will you actually use them?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I said slowly.
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“It’s a huge deal—especially since you’re the guy that hasn’t had a woman spend the night ever, and now you’re giving me keys.”
“Linden?”
“Yeah?”
“Use the keys or don’t. It’s your choice. I just wanted you to know that I’m okay with you being here when I’m not.”
I sighed and met his gaze. I wondered if I was looking all moony-eyed. “Safe travels.”
With a grin and a wave, he picked up his bag, fit perfectly for a motorcycle, and left. A few moments later, his bike roared to life.
I quickly cleaned up the remains of our breakfast and did the dishes. As I was sliding into my jeans, my phone rang. A stupid blast of hope shot through my chest, thinking it might’ve been Boxer already calling just to hear my voice.
It wasn’t Boxer. It was Freddy.
“Hey, girl,” she said. “Do you want to grab a drink tonight?”
“Ah, I’d love to,” I said, “but I’m in Waco.”
“You’re in Waco? Well, well, well, that’s interesting.”
“It’s not that interesting.”
“Let me guess: You’re deep in lust with Boxer and never want to leave his side.”
“Would you think less of me if I said yes?”
She let out a laugh. “No, actually. I think it’s adorable, and I want to hear all about it. And it just so happens I’m already in Waco.”
“You are? Why?”
“The woman who owns Leather and Ink got in some new pieces and she asked me to model them for the website. I’m currently standing outside of a warehouse with a camera lens pointed at me.”
“So let’s definitely grab drinks when you’re done. And then you can crash here at Boxer’s tonight and not have to drive back to Dallas until tomorrow.”
“He won’t mind?”
“He’s not here,” I said. “He left this morning to head up to Idaho.”
“And you’re staying at his place without him?”
“Yeah.”
“This just got serious.”
I snorted. “Tell me about it.”
“Shelly’s. Seven o’clock.”
* * *
Boxer’s house was devoid of all adult food. And even though I had to head back to Dallas the next day, I thought it would be nice if he came home to a full fridge. Maybe then he’d stop relying on the Old Ladies to bring him food.
A few hours later, I returned from my shopping excursion. It was strange, walking into his place and not having him there. But it smelled like him. I wondered when it would smell like us. I smacked my forehead.
Full speed ahead in the commitment and feelings department.
He called when I was putting vegetables into the crisper.
“What are you doing?” he asked in way of greeting.
“Stocking your refrigerator. Have you ever heard of a vegetable?”
He paused for a second and then he said, “You’re putting groceries in my refrigerator?”
I swore I could hear his grin in his tone.
“Yes.”
“Domestic.
“I don’t want you to die from lack of vitamins. The Old Ladies have been too soft on you. Casseroles and lasagnas are delicious, but you need some leafy greens in your life.”
“Woman,” he grumbled. “If you make me eat spinach, I will make your life a living hell.”
“It’s just because I want you to live a long time,” I protested.
“Damn it,” he muttered. “If you make it, I’ll try it.”
“Deal.”
Excitement fluttered in my belly at our banter.
“So, do you miss me yet?” he teased. When I didn’t reply fast enough for his liking, he pressed, “Linden?”
“Yeah,” I croaked. “I miss you.”
“Are we gonna talk about shit when I get home?”
“What kind of shit?” I evaded.
“The kind of shit that starts with L and ends with OVE.”
“Oh look, the oven timer is dinging. Gotta go. Ride safe!” I quickly hung up with him and set my phone aside on the counter like it was a snake that wanted to lurch up and bite me.
A few hours later, with big curls, heavy lipstick, and tight jeans, I called a cab from Boxer’s place. Shelly’s was a brick building, with a large parking lot and a bright neon sign. When I entered the bar, the vintage jukebox was playing The Waiting by Tom Petty, and the women behind the bar were twirling bottles and lighting shots on fire.
I looked through the cluster of people and found Freddy at the pool table, nursing a bottle of beer and talking to a tall, broad, dark-haired man with heavily tatted arms that bulged with muscles beneath his army green T-shirt.
“Hey,” I greeted as I approached.
Freddy turned to look at me and grinned, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Linden, meet Roman.”
Roman held out his hand as his warm brown eyes swept over me. “So, this is Boxer’s woman.”
I rolled my eyes. “Does everyone in this town know Boxer?”
“Most of the women do,” Roman said with a grin.
“Shut up, Roman,” Freddy said with a laugh. “Linden is aware of Boxer’s reputation, but they’re committed now.”
“How committed?” Roman inquired. “Committed like, I’ll be seeing you in my chair and inking you?”
Frowning, I looked to Freddy for an explanation.
“Roman and his brothers own Three Kings—a tattoo parlor that does all the tats for the Blue Angels.”
“Not a tattoo parlor, the tattoo parlor. You want the best art? You come to us.”
“His brother Homer is going to do my back,” Freddy said.
A man with the same shade of hair as Roman’s sidled up next to him and leaned against the pool table.
“This is my younger brother, Virgil,” Roman introduced.
Virgil flashed a grin. “Nice to meet ya.”
“Roman, Virgil, and Homer,” I said. “Interesting names.”
“Our dad’s name is Horace,” Virgil stated. “Has a thing for the classics. You guys want to play a game of pool?”
“Thanks,” Freddy said, “but we’re going to pass. Linden and I are having a girls’ night.”
We said our goodbyes to Roman and Virgil. “You grab us a booth,” I said. “I’ll get the first round.”
I went up to the bar, maneuvering through the throng of people that seemed to grow thicker since I’d arrived. When I got to the bar, I waited patiently for the petite brunette to turn and grab my order. She swiveled, and I grinned in recognition.
“Linden!” she greeted in surprise.
“Mia.” I laughed. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here. Well, I own the place.”
“You own this place? Then what are you doing behind the bar?” I demanded. “You should be at home, resting those swollen ankles.”
“Heard loud and clear, Doc.” She chuckled. “One of my bartenders called in sick. Besides, Silas is over at a friend’s house for dinner and homework, and I was lonely. I never thought I’d be the type that wanted to spend all my time with my husband, but there you have it. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here with Freddy. She was in Waco for the day and she suggested Shelly’s.”
“Freddy’s here?” she asked. “Damn, I must’ve been in the office when she came in. I didn’t see her.” She quickly poured two shots of tequila, gave me a plate of limes and two saltshakers, and placed them on a tray. “These are on me.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Sure I do. What do you want to drink?”
“A pint of something good.”
“I got ya.” She removed a glass from the fridge. “Old Ladies girls’ night this week at my house.”
“Great. Sounds fun,” I said, reaching into my back pocket and pulling out some cash.
“On me,” Mia said when I tried to pay her.
“No way,” I said with a laugh.
“Family discount.” She winked.
My heart warmed. “Thanks. Promise me you’ll take it easy? Don’t lift anything heavy? Sit when you’re tired?”
“You sound like Colt,” she said in amusement. “I promise.”
I gave her my well-practiced doctor stare.
“I said I promise. Yeesh.”
With a nod, I grabbed the tray of drinks and carted them back to the booth.
“What’s this?” Freddy asked.
“Tequila. Courtesy of Mia.”
“That was nice of her.”
“I haven’t done shots in years,” I muttered.
“It’s just one. Come on.”
A few moments later, I was sucking on a lime, the tequila heating my belly. “Okay, that wasn’t so bad.”
“Right?” She smiled. “I knew you were a tequila girl.”
“I’m trying all sorts of new things.” I reached into my clutch and pulled out the keys Boxer had given me. I tossed them onto the table in front of Freddy. “He gave me keys.”
“I knew it. I so knew it. I knew when he met a woman who turned his head, he’d be insta-mated.”
My brow furrowed.
“You don’t want him insta-mated?”
“It’s not that,” I said slowly, “it’s just—well, I have feelings for him.”
“Yeah.”
“No, like, the L word type of feelings.”
“Well, duh.” She rolled her eyes. “Charming, flirty Boxer is one thing. Committed, attentive Boxer is like a battering ram to your heart. You didn’t stand a chance.”
“I definitely didn’t stand a chance,” I agreed. “I’m not sure I trust it.”
“No? Why not?”
“It’s not him. Just, my own stuff I’m trying to work through,” I assured her. “How did you and Boxer meet? I’m curious.”
“You know Allison, right? Torque’s Old Lady?”
“Allison? Yeah, of course.”
“I was college suitemates with her cousin, Sadie. We went to a party, and someone drugged my drink.”
“Oh, Freddy,” I said in sympathy.
“I had all of my clothes on,” she hastened to assure me. “When I woke up the next morning, I mean. Sadie had called Torque, and Boxer came with him. Boxer had given me his number and said if I needed anything, to give him a call. A few weeks later, I did just that. He got me the job at Pinky’s and I quit school.”
“He never said a word to me about any of that,” I said.
“No, he wouldn’t have, would he? Aside from keeping confidences, he’s not the kind of guy to want accolades for being a good guy.”
“The best guy.”
She smiled. “The best guy.”
Mia swept by our table, a hand across her belly. “Hi, Freddy.”
“Hi,” Freddy replied. “Thanks for the shots.”
“Sure thing. Look, I’m in a bind. Silas is at a friend’s house. Danny’s mom just called and told me Silas has a fever and is throwing up. I have to pick him up, but we’re short staffed.
Freddy sighed. “You want me to jump behind the bar, don’t you?”
“Please?” Mia begged. “You weren’t seriously thinking of making the drive back to Dallas tonight anyway, were you?”
“No. I was gonna crash at Boxer’s with Linden,” Freddy said.
“Boxer gave me keys,” I explained to Mia.
She grinned. “Man, I wish I had time for that story, but I really do need to get going. There’s an apartment slash storeroom over the bar. It’s got all the necessities. You can totally sleep there so you don’t have to drive when you get off. Please, Freddy? Tips should be really good tonight.”
Freddy looked at me. “You mind?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t mind.”
“Angel, darling, savior,” Mia said, bending down to side hug Freddy. “Come with me and I’ll introduce you to Danica, and she’ll give you a run down.”
“Dinner?” Freddy asked me as she slid out of the booth. “Soon?”
I smiled. “That sounds good.”
“Come on,” Mia said. “Let’s get you sorted behind the bar so I can pick up my sick kid. See ya later, Linden.”
I waved to them and watched them head to the bar. Since I had no one to hang out with anymore, and I didn’t want to sit and drink alone, I pulled out my cell phone and requested an Uber.
The bar was getting busier and louder. I didn’t want to be that person who took up a booth just for me, so I grabbed my nearly finished pint and purse and vacated my seat. I quickly downed the rest of the beer and then placed the empty glass on the end of the bar.
“Freddy!” I called. “Bye!”
She looked up from serving a customer just long enough to smile and nod.
I headed for the front door and stepped out into the night. I breathed in the cool air and wished I’d thought to wear a jacket, but it hadn’t gone with my outfit.
My phone vibrated at the bottom of my purse, and I reached in and grabbed it. When I took it out, I saw Boxer’s name flashing across the screen. I wandered around to the side of the building, farther back away from the front door so I could have some privacy.
I answered my phone, a smile on my face. “Hi.”
“Hey, Doc. Whatcha doing? Are you at home sniffing my shirts?”
“Ha. You wish. I’m at Shelly’s with Freddy, but I’m waiting for an Uber now.”
“It’s a little early to be calling it a night.”
“Mia was working the bar, but Silas is sick, and she has to pick him up. Freddy’s filling in, so I’m leaving and heading to your house.”
“Are you now?”
“Don’t make a thing of it,” I warned. “I spook easy.”
He chuckled. “Sorry your night got cut short.”
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t mind taking off these tight jeans.”
“Tight jeans? How tight are we talking?”
“Like a second skin.”
“Woman, you must be trying to send me to an early grave. What else are you wearing?”
I told him.
“Yeah, it’s official. I’m crazy about you.”
I grinned even though he couldn’t see me.
“Text me when you get home, okay?” he said.
“Okay.”
I hung up but didn’t put my cell back in my purse just yet. I leaned against the brick wall and sighed.
“You mind if I smoke?”
I was startled, not having heard someone approach. I hoped he hadn’t been eavesdropping. The young man with lank brown hair, average in height, had a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in his hands. He was halfway in shadow, even with the lights from the parking lot.
“No, go ahead,” I said, wanting to head back toward the street.
“Thanks.” He grinned, showing crooked teeth. “I’m trying to quit. It’s not working out.”
I nodded absently, not really wanting to get drawn into a conversation with a stranger. My phone pinged with a text letting me know my Uber driver was just around the block.
He puffed on the cigarette and released a cloud of smoke. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Thanks for the offer, but my Uber just got here. Have a good one,” I said.
He moved like a jungle cat, swift and determined, clamping one of his hands around my wrist before I could even turn, and then using the other to punch me in the stomach so hard I thought I was going to pass out.
While I was gasping for breath, he grabbed me by the hair with both hands and yanked me toward the bushes. I couldn’t scream for help because I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. He smashed an elbow into my jaw.
Lights out.