Dirty, Reckless Love - Lexi Ryan Read online

  Colton gives me a hard look. “I had to take care of some shit.” His expression softens as he turns to her. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Really late.” She folds her arms. “You promised you’d be here.”

  He smirks. “And I am.”

  Is Colton the guy who stood her up?

  “Late,” she says.

  He holds up both hands. “I know. Inexcusable, but you two met, and all’s well that ends well, right?” He steps closer and wraps his arm possessively around her waist before turning to me. “What do you think of Ellie?”

  Ellie?

  The brunette and I exchange a look, and she swallows hard. “You’re the best friend?” she asks. “You’re Levi?”

  I nod slowly. My lust-clogged brain feels fuzzy. “You’re the girl who has Colton acting like a smitten teenager.” She’s the one Colton’s spent the last two weeks prattling on about. The one he’s serious about—which is a miracle in and of itself. Fuck.

  Ellie frowns at him. “Since you stood me up, I was trying to decide whether to have Levi take me home or just let him feel me up in the bathroom.”

  That brings me to attention, and I blink at her. Is she serious? Or just fucking with Colton?

  Colton turns her in his arms and tugs her close so she’s standing between his legs. “One, I’m here, so I didn’t stand you up. And two, don’t joke about that shit.” He lifts his chin in my direction. “Levi’s my boy, but I’d still have to lay him out if he tried to move in on my girl.”

  “Your girl? Since when did I become your girl?” she asks.

  “Since now.” Colton grins at her, no doubt buzzed from whatever nefarious activities made him late to the party. If he hadn’t shown up, we’d be occupied about now, but he’s completely oblivious. He dips his head to kiss her neck, then whispers something into her ear. When she nods, he grins like a little boy on Christmas morning. “Sorry, Levi. We’re going to sneak away for a few. I made some promises to my girl and it’s time to prove I’m a man of my word.”

  I just met Ellie, so I definitely shouldn’t care that she’s looking at him like he made the moon and stars. And Colton’s my best friend, so I absolutely shouldn’t be standing here imagining how I could steal her away from him. Yet here I am, wishing I’d found her first. “Enjoy your night,” I make myself say. As if I meet women like her all the time. As if I don’t give a shit that she’s officially off-limits.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Colton says. He’s already heading toward the door, leading her by the hand.

  Ellie waves her goodbye, and I can’t do anything but watch them go. She likes guys who are bad for her, all right. The only guy around here worse for her than me is Colton.

  Levi

  Sunday, September 9th

  “Where is she?”

  The nurse presses her hands against my chest before I can push past her into the intensive care unit. “You can’t see her right now.”

  “What happened? Is she going to be okay?” Where the fuck is Colton? What kind of trouble did he bring into her life? Why wasn’t he there to protect her?

  “Calm down, sir. There’s nothing you can do right now.”

  “Please just let me back there.”

  Sympathy fills her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She’s a foot shorter than me and maybe a buck ten soaking wet. I could get around her, but I’m guessing the security officers who would follow would have something to say about that.

  “Levi.” A familiar voice calls to me through the fog of my panic. Teagan grabs my shoulder. She’s in her teal nursing scrubs. Her eyes are puffy, her nose is red, and her mascara’s smudged.

  “Have you seen her?” I ask. Everything inside me has been in tatters since I got the call, and I can hear the broken pieces in my voice.

  She shakes her head. “I was working upstairs when I heard.”

  Abandoning the ER nurse who’s given me nothing since I arrived, I focus all my attention on Teagan. “What happened?”

  Teagan leads me out of the unit and into a corridor behind the elevators. “We don’t know anything yet. The doctors are doing everything they can for Ellie, but she’s got a fight ahead of her.”

  “She’s gonna be okay, though, right? They’re helping her now.” Just the look on Teagan’s face—the heartache and the pity—makes me want to punch a wall. “You’re wrong,” I whisper. “She’ll be fine. She has to be.”

  “I hope.” Her voice wobbles, giving hope an extra syllable. As if it needs it. As if the tiny word might not be enough. “Carter said her house looked like it had been ransacked.” She shakes her head. “She’s lucky to be alive, Levi.”

  I blink at her. “I don’t understand. Who did this?”

  “We don’t know. And right now . . .” The grief on her face tells me more than any words she’s spoken.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She grimaces and cuts her gaze away. “The baby. They had to revive her at the scene, and the baby was in distress, and they were losing Ellie. They tried to save them both, but . . .”

  The baby. The words hit me with the force of a wrecking ball. The baby she was terrified to have but was driven to protect. The baby that made her push me away and give Colton another chance he didn’t deserve. She’ll be devastated. If the assault doesn’t kill her, that news will.

  “She’s not conscious. We just have to take this one step at a time,” Teagan says. “One hour, one minute at a time. The doctors are doing everything they can to get her stable. And the detective . . .” Her gaze shifts to a spot over my shoulder, and I follow it, turning to see a tall, solemn-faced man walking toward us through the corridor. I’ve known Ben Huxley for years, but the sight of him here now makes my stomach churn. What is happening?

  “What is he doing here?” I say softly. “Why isn’t he out looking for whoever did this?”

  She looks away. “They’re trying to find Colton.”

  “Good. Why the hell isn’t he here?”

  “I don’t know.” Teagan squeezes her eyes shut. “But I’m afraid they think Colton was the one who . . .”

  No. I’m shaking my head as I turn my attention to the detective at the end of the hall. “Colton’s a sonofabitch and an idiot, but he wouldn’t hurt Ellie. He wouldn’t do this.”

  Teagan squeezes my arm. “Just talk to the detective. The best way you can help Ellie right now is to tell Ben everything you know.”

  Ben lifts his chin. “We can do it in the cafeteria. We don’t have to go far.”

  I throw one last helpless glance over my shoulder to the intensive care unit before nodding. I don’t like leaving, but standing here and doing nothing will make me crazy. “Sure.”

  Teagan squeezes my arm. “I’ll call as soon as I hear anything. I promise.”

  “Thanks.” I turn to the detective and offer him my hand. “Wish I could say it’s good to see you, Huxley. But considering the circumstances . . .”

  He shakes my hand. “Same,” he mutters. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

  I nod, and we fall in step down to the cafeteria. The space is utilitarian at best, with long tables and benches just to the left of the food area and way too many fluorescent lights for this hour of the morning.

  Ben hands me a cup from the self-service counter before grabbing one for himself. “When did you get here?”

  “A few minutes ago, maybe.” I fill my cup with light brown liquid from the vat labeled regular coffee. I need something strong right now, but this looks like it has the flavor and caffeine content of water mixed with a couple of drops of brown food coloring.

  “You got here fast,” he says.

  “Carter’s team was dispatched to Ellie’s place.” Ben’s familiar with my brother’s position with the Jackson Harbor Fire Department, so I don’t have to explain. “He called me as soon as she was in the hands of the hospital staff.”

  Ben pays for both of our coffees, and I follow him to a table in the back corner. When we sit, he holds up a small a
udio recorder. “You okay with me recording this conversation?”

  I blink at him. “Should I have a lawyer or something?”

  He arches a brow. “Do you need one?”

  I shake my head and wave to the recorder. “Whatever. It’s fine. Record to your heart’s content.”

  “You and Miss Courdrey are close?”

  “You’re going to act like you don’t know shit about my life now?”

  He waves to the recorder. “For the record?”

  I blow out a long breath. Tendrils of steam rise from the cup, and I watch them tangle before they disappear into the air. “Yeah. We’re friends.”

  “And her fiancé, Colton McKinley—you’re close to him, too?”

  Fiancé. That word still does a number on me. She might as well have taken the diamond from him and shoved it right into my heart.

  Am I close to Colton? He was like a brother once. We grew up together. Did everything together. Even his years living in Florida didn’t come between us. The only thing that could do that was Colton himself. His dumbass decisions. His shitty priorities. His drugs. “We’ve been friends all my life.”

  “Colton had a temper, didn’t he?”

  My gaze flies up to meet Ben’s. He knows Colton. And the answer to that question. “He wouldn’t do this to her. Not even on his worst day.”

  “Maybe he snapped.”

  I shake my head, even though doubt claws at my chest, even though I instantly think of the night she showed up at Jackson Brews in the rain, blood streaming down her face. That night, my first instinct was to believe Colton had been high and hit her. I swallow hard. “Not even on his worst day.”

  “Not even if he discovered you’d been sleeping with his fiancée?”

  I open my mouth to deny it, but when I see the hard edge to Ben’s jaw, I close it again. “She never cheated on him.”

  “Do you think he saw it that way?”

  “He. Didn’t. Do. This.”

  Ben leans forward, propping his chin on his fist and waiting.

  “He wouldn’t do this,” I whisper. And I know it sounds like I’m trying to convince myself.

  Ethan is stoic when he appears in the waiting room. My brother’s been a doctor for years, but since I don’t spend much time at the hospital, I’m not used to seeing him in medical scrubs. Something about the sight of him looking so official makes this nightmare seem too real.

  “Is she okay?” My voice cracks.

  “She’s stable.” He grimaces and looks away. “Where’s Colton?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question.” I shake my head. “Nobody knows. He’s not answering his phone or replying to messages.”

  “Is Ava around?” he asks, referring to Ellie’s best friend and Colton’s sister.

  Ava McKinley’s been pacing the halls for the last hour, disappearing down the corridor and appearing every ten minutes or so to check for an update. Now she comes around the corner and walks straight up to Ethan. “Is she okay?”

  My brother drags a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “It’s too early to say.”

  Ava’s hand trembles as she lifts it to her lips, and I just feel . . . so fucking numb. Colton’s baby just died, and he’s not even here to hold Ellie.

  “Do you have contact information for her family?” Ethan asks. “Her mom or a sibling or . . .”

  “I don’t,” Ava says, “but I know where to find it. I’ll call them for you.”

  “Good. They should come quickly.”

  I grab my brother’s arm. “What does that mean?”

  Ethan looks dead tired, but worse than that, I don’t see the hope in his eyes I so desperately need to see right now. “She has swelling in her brain, so they’re putting her into a medically induced coma.”

  “What?”

  Ava covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God.”

  “Let me see her,” I say.

  Ethan shakes his head. “Levi, come on. You know I can’t do that.”

  “Fuck you, Ethan. Let me back there.”

  “No one can see her right now,” he says firmly. “You should go home. Get some rest. You can’t help her sitting out here.”

  I lower myself into a waiting room chair and glare at my brother. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He shakes his head. “Suit yourself.” Then to Ava, he says, “Contact her family.”

  Ava nods, and we both watch him go. When my brother’s gone, Ava turns to me. “Don’t you have a race in Indianapolis tomorrow—today?” She looks at her watch. “Shouldn’t you be leaving?”

  I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She nods, and I know she understands. Ava wouldn’t leave Ellie right now either.

  I squeeze the knots at the back of my neck, where tension has coiled tighter and tighter since I got the call. Where the fuck is Colton?

  Levi

  Saturday, October 20th

  Six weeks later . . .

  I pull up to the two-story brick house and cut the engine. Ava reaches across the center console and squeezes my arm.

  It’s been a quiet drive to Northern Indiana, with Ava and I lost in our thoughts. We’re equal parts eager to see Ellie again and hurt that we have to show up unannounced to get the chance.

  Ava absently rubs her belly. She’s only three months pregnant, but she can’t stop touching her stomach, as if she needs some sort of reassurance the baby is still here. After everything she’s lost in the last two months, I can’t blame her. “If she doesn’t want to see us, we’ll just leave,” she says.

  I glare at the house, a run-down split-level. The lawn is a couple of weeks overdue for a cut, and there are more weeds than flowers in the beds around the door. I’m pretty sure if Ellie wanted to see us, she’d take our calls and we wouldn’t have had to drive down here.

  The last time I saw her, she’d been moved from Jackson Harbor’s small hospital to Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago. She was still unconscious, still in a medically induced coma, still attached to half a dozen machines that hummed and beeped all around her. The second her sister realized I was Colton’s friend, she threw a fit, insisted I leave, and threatened to call the police if I came back.

  Since Ellie was released and taken to her family home in Dyer, Indiana, I’ve called, but it goes straight to voicemail. I’ve texted, but she never replies. I’ve even logged on to the Facebook account I otherwise neglect and sent her a message, but no matter how long I stare at the screen waiting for the little blue “received” checkmark to appear, it doesn’t. I wouldn’t have known she’d been released if Teagan hadn’t violated half a dozen medical privacy laws to find out.

  “Are you ready?” I ask.

  Ava shrugs and stares at the house. I silently curse Ellie for the hundredth time since we found out she was awake, home, and recovering. Doesn’t she understand that Ava has lost something too? That Ava’s grieving too? Doesn’t she understand that she should be leaning on her friends right now and not shutting us out?

  Does she hate me that much?

  “Let’s do this.” I climb out of the car and rush around to Ava’s side to open the door, offering my hand to help her out. The way Ava braces her shoulders as she steps forward, you’d think we were approaching a house of horrors and not her best friend’s childhood home.

  I press the button to ring the bell and wait. A tiny dog yaps maniacally and pops up in the window beside the door, growling as the boom of steps comes closer.

  “Hush now,” a woman says. “Go to bed.”

  The dog growls at us one last time and then races away. The woman opens the door only a few inches and frowns at us. “May I help you?”

  “Is Ellie home?” I ask.

  Ava offers the bouquet of flowers we picked up at the supermarket around the corner. “We’re old friends hoping to see her.”

  The woman narrows her eyes at Ava, then shifts them to me and shakes her head. “I recognize you two from Ellie’s pictures.”
<
br />   “This is Levi,” Ava says, “and I’m Ava.”

  “Ava McKinley,” the woman says. Her lips press into a thin line. “Colton’s sister.”

  Ava shoots a pleading glance in my direction before nodding. “Yes, that’s true.”

  “We’re not here about Colton,” I say. Does Ellie not want to see us, or does this woman think she needs to protect her from us? “We’re Ellie’s friends.”

  She closes the door an inch so I can’t see any more than a sliver of her face. “And I’m her mother. You people hurt her once. I won’t let it happen again.”

  “We didn’t hurt her,” Ava says.

  “Mom? Who’s at the door?”

  I nearly push past the woman and into the house at the sound of Ellie’s voice. Ava grabs my arm before I can.

  “No one of consequence,” her mother says. She slams the door in our faces.

  Ellie

  I watch from the top of the stairs as my mom shoves the front door shut.

  “Who was that?” I ask without coming down. I don’t like strangers. Or unexpected visitors.

  Mom climbs the steps and gives me a tight smile. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and her face is lined with worry. I wonder again what happened to my easy, carefree mother with her broad smile and easy laugh. And when did it happen? During the last three years while I was living my life in Jackson Harbor? Or after “the incident,” as they call it? After she was called to a hospital in Michigan, where I was lying helpless, beaten black and blue, and in a medically induced coma while they waited for the swelling in my brain to subside?

  “No one,” she says. “It was no one.” She steps forward and sweeps my hair behind my ear, tucking it back as she studies my face. “How are you feeling today?”

  I shrug. “Good.” The truth is that I’m tired, and everything takes more effort than it should. I go to physical therapy three times a week, where they attempt to restore the strength I lost while I was lying in that hospital bed. “But who was at the door?”

  Her expression tightens. “Friends of Colton’s.”