Unruly (30 page)

“Of course I do!” I stared up at him in confusion. “Unless you don't want—”

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Mama snapped. “You, go make those calls and get your ass back in here. You, he wants to be here, but the boy's got a case of the guilt.”

I realized what she meant as Alamo's gaze found mine. “It wasn't you that hurt me. Let them know I'm okay and come back? Please?”

He nodded once and slipped out of the room.

The door clicked shut softly, and my mother sighed. “You scared everyone. Echo and the boys were all upset. Big Eddie has been calling like you were his little chickadee.”

“He loves you,” I told her. “You do know that, right?”

Mama sighed again. “He's too damn young to love me.”

I laughed, and then winced because it hurt. “Maybe he was when I was a kid, but he got older.”

“So did I.” She stroked my face. “Your daddy wouldn't mind me being happy, would he?”

I sniffled. “No, he wouldn't.”

“You're grown now,” she said. “I wasn't going to have some man around like he was your father, but you're all grown and snagged yourself a Wolf of your own. Maybe I ought to let Big Eddie stay over to keep an eye on me while you're healing up.”

“How long am I staying in the hospital?”

She shook her head and said lightly, “You'll be out tomorrow, but Alejandro tells me that he has a nice soft bed on the ground floor and that ankle of yours is busted up.”

I laughed despite everything. “You're kicking me out to shack up with Big Eddie? You
do
realize I knew he was sneaking in since I was a kid.”

Mama smacked my shoulder gently. “Don't be silly. I'm kicking you out so you can convince Alejandro not to let guilt make him run.”

Tears filled my eyes. I wasn't sure whether they were from amusement or worry or both. Whatever pain medicine they had given me probably wasn't helping matters. “You really are a terribly meddling woman, Mama.”

“Meddling would be telling you that I wouldn't let Echo tell you that there was some music manager been pestering me for weeks after hearing you sing,” she said primly. “Meddling would be stepping up to the man himself and telling him that if he pressured you to do something you weren't ready to do, I'd sell the damn house and pay him back.”

I blinked at her. “What did you say?”

“It's your choice, baby,” she murmured. “I didn't know he'd been pulling strings or trying to push you.”

There were no words. My mother had tried to push
Echo
. It had to be the pain medicine. Maybe I was sleeping. Subtly I pinched my wrist.

Mama rolled her eyes. “If you want to talk to them, you can, but it needs to be your choice.”

I took her hand again and squeezed. “Thank you. I just thought . . .” I didn't know how to say that I thought she wanted me to use my voice for money without sounding rude. So I kept my silence on that. She obviously knew anyhow.

“You're my baby, Ellen. Sing or don't. I just want you to be happy.”

“And with Alamo?” I teased.

The door opened and Alamo stepped inside. Mama looked at him, the sort of look that said she was weighing and measuring him like he was a holiday turkey. Then she smiled and said, “He's a fine-looking man, and you watch him like he's a big dessert after a long diet.” She shrugged. “Plus, he loves you. He might not know it yet, but he does.”

I felt my mouth drop open, but no words came.

Mama stood. “I'll be back in the morning when they release you.” She walked up to Alamo and took his arm. She tugged and he leaned down. She kissed his cheek. “You hurt her, and you'll be shy a few parts all men seem to be proud of.” Then her gaze dropped to his crotch for several moments too long. She looked back at me. “No nooky till the doctors give the okay, and I'll be asking.”

After she walked out, I extended my hand to Alamo. He came to the bed and took my hand. Then he stood there. It wasn't the same sort of comfortable silence we'd shared before.

“It's not your fault,” I said.

“He came here to get revenge on me.”

“I didn't tell anyone there were strangers watching me.”

Alamo frowned. “I didn't tell you why I left Carolina.”

“I tried to handle it alone,” I added.

He met my gaze, and I stared back at him. After a moment he sighed, and I said, “How about we agree that we both made a few mistakes and call it done?”

He tensed. “Call what done?”

“The guilt?” I frowned, trying to figure out what I'd missed. I hated pain medicine. It made my thinking slower than I liked. I replayed the words in my head until I realized what he thought. “I'm not done with you, Alamo.”

He smiled.

“Plus I can't go home because Mama's finally letting Big Eddie out of the closet,” I said bluntly.

“What?”

I half shrugged. “Club secret. He's in love with my mother. She's been pretending they don't end up in bed all the time.” My eyes drifted closed. “Now that I'm apparently all settled, possibly with a music manager and a hot Wolf from North Carolina, Mama's letting him out of her closet.”

Alamo laughed softly. “Do I know your ‘hot Wolf'?”

I smiled but kept my eyes closed. “Shush, I'm dreaming about you.”

He laughed again. “I'm not staying in a closet.”

I meant to reply, to tell him about the time Mama literally made Eddie go into her closet when she heard me come up the stairs. It was sort of funny. At least it had been when I was a teenager. I laughed every time I saw him for weeks after that, picturing him standing there in the middle of her skirts and purses. We never discussed it. Maybe I'd mention it now that they were about to be official.

“Official,” I muttered.

“That's the plan,” Alamo said.

I smiled again. That hadn't been what I meant, but I liked the thought of being his old lady. I liked the thought of anything to do with him really.

O
F COURSE
,
THE
next day when I was surly from the pain of being jostled on the ride to his house, I was a lot less smiley.

“You're sure you're okay?” Alamo asked for the fourth time. He kept sweeping his gaze over me as if I were going to suddenly manifest new injuries. The line between sweet concern and anxiety-ridden was seeming to blur.

“I'm
fine
.”

He brushed my hair back, carefully not touching the swelling around my eye. “I could kill them for touching you.”

I caught his hand. “Murder requires Echo's sign-off.”

Alamo made a noise that was more growl than word. “Like he wouldn't. You know he was almost as angry as Killer . . . and Dash.”

The delay before he could force himself to add Noah's name was to be expected. They hadn't exactly buried the hatchet. I wasn't sure if they would, but I had hopes.

A knock on the door had Alamo tensing.

“Got it,” Zoe called out as she sailed through the room. She was a curious mix of temper and tenderness. I wouldn't say that we were done sizing each other up, but right now she seemed to see me as a wounded animal—or more important, a wounded animal that her big brother wanted to protect—so I was seeing the tender side.

“No,” she snapped from the doorway. “You cannot come in.”

Alamo was up and across the room in a blink.

“Ask Alamo” was the reply from the door.
Noah
.

“It's my home too,” Zoe snapped. “I say you're not welcome.”

For a moment Alamo paused. Obviously he'd heard enough to know who it was too. He stood out of sight from the door, arms folded, wide smile on his lips. Honestly, it was the most cheerful he'd looked since he'd brought me home. It almost made me want to pretend I didn't realize it was Noah.

“Zoe,” I called out.

“Yes?” Her voice was light and chirpy. “Nothing to worry about, just a street peddler. No thank you. No one here needs what you're selling.”

I sighed.

“I said I was sorry,” Noah snapped. “Ellie? Tell the harpy at the door to let me in.”

Alamo rounded the corner. His voice came back. “
What
did you say?”

“I'm not here to start trouble, man. I just wanted to check on Ellie. She's been my best friend for twenty fucking years, and I'm not going to have some jumped-up—”

Slap
.

“Noah, please shut your mouth,” I called. I pushed myself off the sofa and started hopping toward the door. It was easier than bending down and grabbing crutches.

At least I thought it was until all three of them came into the room.

“Sit your ass down,” Noah said.

Alamo didn't bother with words. He scooped me up carefully and carried me to the sofa.

Zoe smacked Noah's arm again. “You see what you did? She could've fallen.” She pulled back to hit him again, and this time he caught her hand in his.

“Do it again, and I'll put you over my knee like the brat you're being,” Noah said quietly.

Alamo paused and looked back at them.

“Hey,” I whispered, “can you not fight with him? Please?”

Alamo's gaze came to settle on my face.

“I'm yours, but he's still my friend.
Platonic
.” I kissed Alamo softly and added, “And she can handle him.”

Alamo settled me on the sofa again. He seemed to have let it go, but then he glanced at Noah and Zoe. The frown Alamo got as he looked back at them was not encouraging.

“She's my baby sister,” he muttered. Then, louder, he said, “Zoe, can you grab the frozen peas for Ellen. Her eye is swelling again.”

Zoe broke off her glaring match with Noah and stomped out of the room. Once she was gone, Alamo leveled a glare at him. “You touch my sister, and I'll break every part of you that even thought of brushing against even
one stray hair
of hers. You hear me?”

“What?” Noah looked thoroughly gobsmacked. “Why would I . . .”

I gestured frantically behind Alamo's back.

Noah amended, “Not that's she not, er, a lovely . . . person.”

“She's a fucking angel,” Alamo snapped. A cold smile came over him and he added, “And she's off-limits. Under my protection. As in you aren't ever to be alone with her or think about touching her.”

Noah laughed. Idiot that he was, he laughed. He was still grinning as Zoe walked back in. His gaze fell on her for a brief moment, and he said, “Not a problem, man. Not a problem at all.”

Zoe looked from him to Alamo and back. “I don't even want to know, do I?”

She handed me the peas and walked out of the room without another word. Noah watched her go, and Alamo watched him stare at Zoe. And all I could think was that I was damn glad that she was headed back to North Carolina soon.

By Ronnie Douglas

Unruly

Undaunted

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

UNRULY
. Copyright © 2016 by Melissa Marr. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

FIRST EDITION

ISBN 978-0-06-238962-6

EPub Edition FEBRUARY 2016 ISBN 9780062389633

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