Make It Right (8 page)

“I think that I've got it.” Amelia walked around to the passenger side. The truck was higher than most but she managed to get in without incident, though she was sure if she had been drunk that she'd have busted her ass and would have required the boost. “Can we stop for burgers or something? I'm starving. And not McDonald's. I'd like to eat actual cow tonight.”

<#<#<#

Rock was good company but Amelia was glad when she was finally alone in Danny's bedroom. He was in the living room, watching television and keeping guard. Maybe she did feel a little safer with him there, or maybe the feeling of being safe came from the fact that Danny's scent was all over the place.

Amelia showered and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a shirt she'd found in the clean laundry pile. Both were too big on her, but they were comfortable. She tied her hair up into a knot without bothering to brush it out and lifted the messenger bag she'd taken from Fiona's room onto the bed.

It was filled with every document and file possible; it was where she'd found Fiona's will and a just-in-case letter. Amelia hadn't been able to bring herself to read the letter, but there was no time like the present. She sat down on the bed, got comfortable and opened the envelope. The paper inside was lilac colored and thick. Fiona had always enjoyed writing actual letters.

If you're reading this, the worst has happened and I'm gone. First things first, take care of Taylor. I can't even imagine how hard it's going to be for the both of you but she needs you. And you need her. I worry about you Amelia, I worry about you being all alone when you don't have to be. I get why you left, really I do. I know that what I'm about to ask is hard but I want you stay in Detroit with Taylor. I want her to grow up in our house. I want her to grow up near her father. It's important to me that she continue to have her relationship with Royal. It might not be traditional but it works for them. She loves him. She'll need him. You can trust Royal. He'll help you.

I can only imagine the way that you're rolling your eyes at the paper, probably cursing me or calling me stupid. I'm sorry. I really am. I don't know what happened to get us here (obviously, I'm not psychic) but trust me, I'd rather be there.

This is all pretty morbid, sitting here and thinking about you reading this after I'm gone makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I'll take advantage of the fact that you can't kill me and bring up Danny. KEEP READING!! What he did was shitty. Beyond shitty but I really believe that he's sorry for it. He didn't do it on a whim. Royal told me why he did. You should ask him. If you ask, he'll tell you the truth. Just talk to him, okay?

I love you. I really love you and I've missed you. I know that you're going to miss me. I know that Taylor will too. I wish I had a magic answer for you as to how to get through this but I don't. Just trust your gut.

Amelia folded the paper carefully, placed it back in the envelope and then back into the bag. She pulled out a folder at random, just to keep her brain from thinking too much about the letter. It had only been written six months before. Had Fiona had a sense of her own impending doom?

It took several moments for Amelia to realize what she was looking at. She'd thumbed through the papers in the folder without even seeing them, but then she realized they were tax returns. Tax returns that listed Fiona as having two jobs. One of which was Davenport Development, Royal's company. She listed her title as consultant. Further investigation showed that Fiona had a 401K account with a sizable sum in it as well as health insurance for both her and Taylor. Amelia was paying complete attention now. She spread the papers out in piles. Royal had been paying Fiona nearly thirty thousand dollars since they'd started seeing one another.

Her head was spinning, but she kept going through the folder. There was an envelope at the very back, folded inside was a life insurance policy on Fiona which hadn't been mentioned in the will, but it was there, staring her in the face with Royal's legal name listed as the beneficiary. It was a million dollar policy, one that doubled in value if Fiona died during the course of a crime. Her death had certainly been a crime, so Royal was now two million dollars richer.

“Jesus Christ.” Amelia dropped the papers and covered her face with her hands. This was not going to look good for Royal when the policy came to light. And it would, because Catherine Harris had a determination about her. Not only would he suddenly look guilty as all get-out, but there was no way to keep it quiet from Missy.

Amelia didn't consider that Royal had actually murdered Fiona and Taylor in cold blood for a payday. The grief he was experiencing was obvious, at least to her, and complete. Just like her, he'd never be the same again. Her gut feeling wasn't going to carry any weight. Just when it seemed that everything was as shitty as possible, it only got worse.

She gathered up all the papers, put everything away neatly, and returned the messenger bag to the corner where she'd taken to keeping all of her things. It was a pathetically small pile, and seeing it all jumbled there made her sad. Amelia unfolded her legs and got off of the bed. Danny's closet was spacious, not even half full with his clothes. There were extra hangers and she took that as the sign she needed to begin to unpack. It didn't take long and the closet didn't look much different than it had. She really didn't have much.

It was only after she'd put everything away and tucked the messenger back into the darkest corner of the closet that Amelia let herself sit back down on the bed. She picked her phone up, saw no missed calls or messages that she somehow hadn't heard. The horrifying thought that he might not return, that he might already be gone filled her with a sickness in her stomach. No. She couldn't let herself think like that, but the thought remained. Worst case scenarios ran through her mind. There was no point in getting into bed; she wouldn't sleep. She couldn't sleep until she knew that he was safe.

Chapter Seven

Danny opened his eyes and felt a little confused at the surroundings he didn't recognize, until he remembered: it was a cheap road side motel, the type that didn't ask too many questions and accepted payment in the form of cold hard cash.

Edge was stretched out on the other bed, looking way worse for wear. There was no way he could get on a bike, which was why they'd checked in here in the first place. He reached for the burner phone he'd purchased after the ambush. In the chaos he'd lost his.

The lost phone also meant that he'd lost Amelia's number. Not that he'd have called and told her on the phone that he'd almost been killed, but still, he'd have liked to hear her voice. There was no doubt in his mind that she was going to be beyond pissed at him.

Edge moaned and tried to sit up. He let out a grunt of pain. “Stay down, Brother. Just keep breathing. Someone will be here soon and they'll have something for the pain.”

“Inside my boot. Pills. For my back. Please.”

Danny hadn't bothered to removed Edge's boots; he'd just been glad to get the bleeding under control from the wound to his side. He took them off and a small clear plastic bag fell to the floor. There were small round blue pills inside. Immediately he knew that they were Oxy 30 milligram pills. “Your back must be killing you to need these.” He shook two out. “Swallow these, they'll help.”

“Should take one, too.” Edge mumbled the words. “You had to have broke at least a rib the way that you came off of the bike. Fuck, I still can't believe we made it out of there. I don't remember much after I went down, though.”

Danny nodded, he'd figured as much. “You took two of 'em out. It was good shooting.” It had been exceptional shooting. It was a split second that likely earned Edge his patch. No one would question his balls or loyalty. “You be straight with me, Edge, you got an issue with these pills?”

“Nah, man. Nah. I twisted my back all up the last time I was fucking Allison.”

“You fucked Allison?” Danny was surprised, but not in any way jealous. Normally Allison only spread her legs for someone with a full patch.

“Train told her to take care of me.” Edge admitted, his words more slurred than they had been only moments before. The pills were working quickly, or the placebo effect had taken over. Either way, it was what was best for Edge. The more he rested, and didn't move around, the better it would be. “Don't tell Jillian.”

“I don't think your sister cares where you're sticking your dick, Edge.”

“Not about Allison. Don't tell her about the pills or how bad I'm hurt. She'll worry.”

“We'll keep it quiet. You just shut your eyes. Try and get some more sleep.”

<#<#<#

Danny was tired, his side hurt like a son of a bitch and he was pissed to be behind the wheel of the late model Oldsmobile. His bike had been brought back on a flatbed, courtesy of a friendly local garage; it wasn't going to be road-ready for a while.

Rock was on the porch when he reached the house. The temperature was hovering somewhere in the upper thirties, so he had to be freezing his ass off. Danny parked in the driveway and got out of the car. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Amelia told me to wait outside.” Rock called back. “Said if all I could tell her was that you'd talk to her when you got here, I could freeze for all she cared. Basically, it's the tropics out here compared to what you're going to walk in to.”

“You're probably right about that.” Danny came up on the porch, pulled out his keys. “Go on
and get out of here. Royal wants everyone at the bar tomorrow, ten o'clock sharp.”

“Got it.” Rock replied. “Good to see you in one piece. How's Edge?”

Danny knew that the prospects were close and not just because they were prospects. They'd both grown up in the same neighborhood, gone to the same schools. They'd been best friends before they took the task of prospecting on. “He's going to be okay. Doesn't want Jillian to know that anything is going on, so keep your mouth shut.”

Rock let out a snort of amused laughter. “Yeah, I wasn't going to be the one to tell her anything in the first place. I like my nuts right where they are.”

“I bet you do. Go on, get some sleep. And thanks, Brother, I appreciate it.”

“No sweat.” Rock flashed a grin and then bounded off of the porch with an energy that only came with youth, or drugs. Since realizing Edge had a problem, he had to look at Rock in a different light. Was he using, too? That was a question that needed to be asked, but not now. Now was for going inside and facing whatever fury Amelia was going to unleash on him.

The front door was locked but the chain wasn't on—not that it would have stopped him, but it was a good gauge of her anger. “Amelia!” He wasn't sure where he'd find her. “Babe?” Her silence told him that she was indeed pissed.

It hurt to take off and hang his cut, but he powered through it. Things could have turned out a lot worse than they had. He was grateful to be home, glad to still be breathing and mobile. All things considered, he'd gotten off lucky. Danny took off his boots and followed the scent of onions and garlic to the kitchen.

Amelia was at the counter. The room was a disaster area. She loved to cook, but she wasn't neat about it and seemed compelled to use every surface and container at her disposal. He hadn't known he had that many bowls. “Hey, Baby.” Stony silence greeted him as she continued to mince the cloves of garlic on the cutting board. “Things got complicated. I couldn't call.”

“Uh huh.”

“Aren't you going to ask what happened?”

“No.” Amelia turned to toss more garlic into the pot. “You should take a shower. You smell like gasoline, smoke and something else I just can't place. The food will be done in about two hours, so you've got plenty of time.” She turned back to face him. “There's blood on your shirt.”

“Probably from Edge, he got hit.” Danny looked down, realized the blood was too fresh. He had the worst of his wounds covered but obviously one had leaked. “Or not. Hand me the first aid kit from the drawer by the stove?”

Amelia turned off the flame on the stove, grabbed the kit. “Take off the shirt.” She spoke briskly.

“No sweet talk first?” Danny questioned. He hoped to make her smile, but instead she just glared at him. He was tempted to tell her how hot she was when she was pissed off, which would only piss her off more. “I'm kidding. Also, I might need a little help getting it off.”

“How hurt are you?”

“Around a four. Maybe a five.” Danny admitted.

“Why didn't you start out with that?” Again she glared at him. “I can save being pissed off at you until after I'm sure you're not going to end up dying in your sleep.”

“That's really romantic.”

“In my spare time maybe I'll cross stitch it onto a pillow. How attached are you to that shirt?”

“Why?”

“It'll be easier just to cut it off, probably hurt a lot less, too.”

“Do it.” Danny was all for anything that didn't make him feel like he was going to pass out. She grabbed the scissors and got to work. One might think she had medical experience, her movements were fast and efficient but it was just lots of practice. Lots of practice on him.

“You've probably got two broken ribs. Do you have any bandages?”

“Upstairs in the bathroom.”

“Awesome. Some of these cuts are a little deep, they probably could use stitches. I can't do stitches. You should call Joe.”

“Joe's dead. Heart attack.”

“Oh shit. I'm sorry, he was a really nice guy.”

“There's some medical glue upstairs with the bandages. It'll do.”

“You want me to glue you back together again?”

“Would you rather get the staple gun?” Danny questioned because he knew the answer.

“That's not funny.” She did smile a little, though. “You really scared me when I didn't hear from you. I thought....”

“I'm sorry.” And Danny was. “Sorry I screwed up you making dinner, too. It smells good.”

“You didn't screw it up. I'll finish it after I patch you up. And seriously you need a shower before I do anything. Can you walk?”

“I can.”

“That's fortunate. I wouldn't have been able to carry you. Are you going to tell me what happened to you? Did you come off your bike, because this looks like gravel stuck in your wound?”

“I did come off of my bike.” Danny admitted. “I had Edge with me. We were on our way to a second drop spot, there was extra cargo. We got close, realized that we were being tailed. Decided to try and make a run for the drop, it was the wrong call. There were two other guys waiting at the spot. Shit went sideways.”

“Did they get the cargo?”

“No.” Danny shook his head. “I managed to hold on to it. Got it to the person it was supposed to go to, which is another reason it took me so long to get back.” He wondered if she was going ask what it was, but she didn't.

“How's Edge?”

“He'll be alright. He's a tough guy.” Danny realized that he hadn't asked about the memorial. “How did everything go?”

“It went.” She replied. “You really had a rough night.”

“Yeah. And I gave you one, too.” Danny reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. “I bet that you didn't get any sleep.” He tugged her closer to him, turned her wrist over so he could see his mark on her skin. “Leave the food for tomorrow. Just come up to bed with me.”

“Okay.” Amelia looked up at him. Her agreement surprised him, he'd thought that she'd argue. Danny focused on her face, her beautiful face, and saw what he'd missed earlier.

“Whoa.” He tightened his grip on her wrist. “What happened to your face?”

“Oh,” her hand went up to her cheek. “Missy happened.”

“What?”

“She slapped me. I was about to knock her right back, but Rock grabbed me. Apparently beating the shit out of the self-proclaimed first lady of Nightshade angers her husband and like the Hulk, we don't want to make Royal angry, right?”

“Wrong.” Danny spoke the word without hesitation. “No one is going to put their hands on you. I don't care if it's some asshole off the street or Missy, no one is going to touch you like that.” Danny let go of her wrist. He was so angry that he didn't want to take the risk of hurting her. “I'm going to have a talk with Royal.”

“Danny.” She came at him quickly, wrapping her arms around him, and he winced as pain shot through him. “I said goodbye to my family yesterday, alone. I spent last night and all of today alone
and worried about you. Please don't go.”

He couldn't say that his anger was gone, but it took a back seat as he felt Amelia tremble in his arms. “I'll talk to him tomorrow.” He closed his arms around her, fought through the pain. “I'm not going anywhere.” Danny held her until she pulled away.

“You are going to the shower, though. You really do smell.”

“Thanks, Baby.” Danny followed her up the stairs. “Let me just grab some clothes.”

“I'll start the shower.”

Danny watched her go. He was tired, but he'd never be too tired to appreciate the view of her ass, especially in the stretchy little pants that she was wearing. He turned to the dresser, opened the drawer to grab socks, but got a handful of some silky, lacy things that weren't possibly his. A smile crossed his face as he lifted them out and examined them. He replaced them, opened another drawer and grabbed what he needed. Before he went into the bathroom he opened the closet.

She'd unpacked. She wasn't living out of a stack of bags in the corner; she'd put her things away. In that moment Danny realized that she was going to stay. She was back. She was really back. Suddenly the pain in his ribs was nothing compared to just how badly he needed her.

Amelia yelped with surprise when he came up behind her in the bathroom. “It's just me.” He buried his face in her hair.

“Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

“I'm good. I've never been better.”

“Did you take something?”

“You took something,” he tightened his grip on her. “You took one of my drawers and half of my closet.”

“Should I not have?”

“Of course not. I'm glad that you did. Truth be told, I wasn't sure if you were going to stay around.”

“Truth is, I wasn't sure what I was going to do,” she admitted as she leaned back against him. “Last night, it just felt like the right thing to do.”

“It was the right thing to do. You're where you belong.”

“You belong in the shower. Seriously, you really freaking reek and I don't need you bleeding out on me.”

“Join me.”

“When you're off the injured list, I'll join you. For now, make nice with the soap.” She laughed as she pulled away from him. “I'm going to go make the bed.”

“Why? We're just going to get in it?”

“Easier to get comfortable when the bed is made up. The covers are all nice and where they're supposed to be and the pillows are more comfortable.”

“If you say so.” Danny didn't care if a bed was made or unmade. In fact, he'd slept on the bare mattress more times than he could count since he'd been released. He'd spent five years sleeping on a mat so thin it didn't deserve to be called a mattress.