Gauge, p.5
Gauge, page 5
It’d be difficult, but with everyone’s help, she could. Besides, right here was where her primary contact was. “Yep. Until we’re able to analyze Gauge’s memories, I need to stick to him like glue anyway.”
“It’s settled,” Bear said.
Viola yawned as she grabbed her cell to search for hotels. She’d left so quickly that she hadn’t booked anything, and since she’d been crashing at the hospital, she hadn’t needed one until tonight. As she scrolled the options, she wasn’t finding one available. “What’s a good hotel near here?”
Bear frowned. “You don’t have reservations somewhere already?”
Viola looked up. “No. I got on the first flight out and have been at the hospital ever since.” She felt Gauge’s gaze on her, but she didn’t dare look at him.
“You’re not going to find anything open. Toad Suck is this weekend.”
Viola gaped at him. “What the heck is that?”
Bear chuckled. “It’s a huge festival. People come from all around for it. You’d probably have to drive damn near back to Little Rock to find a vacancy.”
Jeez, she was tired and didn’t want to drive all the way back to the city. Looked like she had no choice. She expanded her search for something that might be closer, hoping she’d find something—anything—not that far away.
“You can take my house,” Bear said.
“Oh, no,” Viola said, shaking her head. She didn’t know him that well. “That’s awfully kind of you, but I can get a place tonight and talk to Shelby tomorrow about staying with her and Mason.” It wouldn’t be much help tonight, but at least she’d have a plan for the rest of her stay. “I’d call her now, but I’m a little worried that I might…um…disturb them.”
After Shelby had met Mason on assignment at his sex club, she’d taken to the life of a sub. Viola was happy for Shelby, but that didn’t mean she wanted to witness her friend getting all kinky. There’re just some things you can’t unsee.
Bear groaned. “I don’t wanna think of her like that.”
“What? Tied up and spanked?” Gauge said, slurring his words a little. Viola felt heat creep up her neck at his comment and quickly took a sip of her water.
“Yes,” Bear said flatly.
“Bear, go home,” Gauge said, his head falling back onto the couch as his eyelids fluttered. The medicine was doing its job, it seemed. He pointed in the direction where Viola was sitting and added, “You can stay here in the guest room. You’ve yawned three times since getting me on this couch, and that’s not counting how many times you did it in the car.”
Bear looked at her, and she shrugged. She didn’t want to seem too eager to stay, but the thought of driving to town made her feel even more exhausted than she was. Any other justification that drifted into her mind, she quickly ignored.
“Okay,” Bear said, standing up. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll check in tomorrow.”
Viola stood. “Can you help me get him into bed? It was a struggle to get him into the house, and he wasn’t even stoned then.”
“You bet.”
“Don’t need help.” Gauge sat up and slowly rose.
“Course, not.” Bear snaked an arm around his back and easily got him to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”
Gauge mumbled something, but Viola didn’t make out the words. She followed, but the hallway was too narrow for her to walk beside the two large men. Bear guided Gauge to a room at the end and eased him down on the bed. He then helped Gauge get out of his shoes and the shirt he wore, obviously trying not to jostle the man too much.
Before he got to the snap on Gauge’s jeans, she said, “I’m going to get my stuff out of the car.” Bear clearly had this handled, and she didn’t need to stick around to see Gauge getting completely undressed.
By the time she got her suitcase and laptop bag out of the car and into the house, Bear was walking into the living room.
“He’s already snoring.”
“Good,” she said and yawned. “I want to shower and crawl into bed.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said as he headed for the door. “Lock up behind me.”
Viola wanted to roll her eyes. She was a dang field agent, but she did as he asked. She was going to anyway.
After grabbing her bag, she glanced behind the doors in the hall, searching for the guest room. There was one filled with workout equipment, a closet, a bathroom, and across from Gauge’s room she found another bedroom. At least she’d be close enough to hear him if he needed help. With as tired as she was, that was a real concern. She dug out her toothbrush and took it and some PJs to the bathroom she’d passed earlier. After getting ready for bed, she peeked into Gauge’s room, and because she couldn’t help herself, she stepped inside to check his bandages. Satisfied with what she saw, she tucked the covers around him, gave him one last look, and retired to her room, leaving the door open.
Within seconds of hitting the mattress, her body finally relaxed for the first time since she’d learned Gauge had been shot. His scent filled the room, giving her a peace she hadn’t felt in too long. Maybe never.
As she drifted off to sleep, she thought of running the trails at the academy, a young fresh-faced man jogging beside her as they hid their secret smiles from the world.
Chapter Six
Gauge watched as Roc and Hunter tried being nice to each other and fought not to laugh, but the last couple of weeks had been damn near hilarious between his two teammates. Neither one knew how to act around each other now that Roc was involved with Hunter’s little sister. They were so used to spouting off insults and taunting the other that this being cordial thing had been completely foreign...and comical to everyone lucky enough to witness their odd truce.
After Roc had brought them up to speed regarding his conversation with McMillian, he’d spend most of his days and nights with Heather. The man had taken her on all kinds of dates. Movies, dinners, mountain climbing, skiing on the lake, horseback riding. Hell, he’d even taken her to the park just so she could ride one of those tandem bicycles. Hunter had to learn how to be nice to Roc or receive the wrath of both his sister and his girlfriend, Maya—his sister’s best friend.
When Roc wasn’t taking Heather out on dates, he was here at the shop, but so was she. Several times they’d been caught making out in the file room or bathroom.
Heather would say something about taking Spanish lessons.
Shelby would crack a dirty joke about Heather revving up Roc’s gears or slamming his ride.
Hunter would groan.
At least he’d stopped trying to attack the man. They all called it progress.
Gauge was jealous of how the two of them had fallen in love against all odds.
“About fucking time,” Bear growled when the delivery truck backed into the loading dock.
“I’ll handle it,” Gauge said, jogging to meet the driver. They’d needed a ton of parts and supplies for the new projects they’d recently started, but sometimes things were back ordered. It was anybody’s guess what would actually arrive. One of the parts they needed for the GT4 was supposed to be here by now. The driver got out, and Gauge took the papers out of his hands, holding the order form to check things off as they were unloaded. He jumped into the back and immediately saw something stacked in the back that’d at least make Bear happy.
“Roxie’s tires are here!” he called out.
Hunter and Blade stopped what they were doing and came over to help. The other guys stayed focused on their vehicles they’d been working on. They’d gotten some sweet rides in. Or at least, they’d be sweet when the guys got done with them. Roc dropped a ratchet and headed in their direction.
They made quick time of getting the items out of the truck while a couple of the guys hauled the merchandise into the shop.
“That’s almost all of it,” the driver said.
“Cool.” Gauge pulled out his pen to sign the papers.
“Um, I need Hunter Anderson’s signature,” the guy said, his gaze darting to the side.
“I can sign it.” Gauge bent over to do just that.
“It, er, has to be Mr. Anderson.”
Gauge’s hackles rose, and he slowly looked up. The man’s gaze was shifty. He was also sweating, but it didn’t seem as if it was because of the heat.
“What’s the hold up?” Hunter asked, jogging around the corner.
The driver quickly reached into the cab, and Gauge’s gut screamed at him that something was seriously wrong.
“Get down,” Gauge yelled to Hunter.
“Don’t…”
“Gauge?”
He felt something hit his chest, and he jerked, pain blooming.
“Gauge?”
He gasped, bolting upright and grabbing his chest.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” a soft voice said, cutting through his haze as he glanced around.
He wasn’t at the garage. He was at home. In bed. “Dream,” he breathed, but that didn’t feel right. He’d been sleeping, but that assessment felt off for some reason. He looked at the person rubbing his arm. “Vi?”
She flinched at the nickname he used to call her. “It was just a dream,” she said soothingly, but memories were still clicking into place.
He’d been in the hospital. She’d been there. He’d been shot.
“It wasn’t a dream.” He took a deep breath and groaned. “Fuck, I’m sore.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Before he could protest, she slipped out of his bedroom. He needed to pee and brush his teeth. Biting down to keep from groaning in pain, he eased out of bed. He kept his hand on the wall as he took baby steps to the bathroom.
He heard her walking down the hall, but her gasp still surprised him. “What the hell are you doing?” A plate clanked behind him, and then her arm was around his back.
“Have to take a piss.”
She didn’t say anything, and he couldn’t take his focus away from his feet as he walked slowly to his destination. The silence felt heavy, but he realized something that distracted him from the quiet.
He was only in his boxer briefs.
Gauge almost felt shy at the thought, which was ridiculous. His reaction had to be because he needed her help to get from one room to another. When they reached the doorway, she eased back a little. They both weren’t going to fit through the door side-by-side.
“I think you can take it from here.”
He grunted his response before she shut the door. Stopping at the mirror, he stared at his chest. Jesus, he could see the bruising around the edges of the bandages. Whoever had shot him had aimed to kill.
His gaze trailed up, landing on his greasy hair. He’d love to take a shower, but right now, he needed to pee and take some pain medication.
Relieving himself took monumental effort, but when he finished, he managed to free his toothbrush and take care of his foul mouth.
“You okay in there?” she asked through the door.
“Yeah,” he called back through a mouth of minty foam. It felt weird having her here, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it. Ever since he’d seen her at the baby shower, he’d been assaulted with memories—and fantasies—about Viola.
After rinsing his mouth a couple of times, he made his way to the door. He tugged on the knob, and she was right there waiting.
“Better?”
“Depends on your definition,” he muttered.
Her lip quirked, but she didn’t laugh. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
Gauge couldn’t count the number of times he’d envisioned her talking about getting him in bed. He wanted to protest her helping him, but the pain radiating through his abdomen overruled his brain. After he eased onto the mattress, he sighed in relief.
“Here you go,” she said, nudging a plate in his direction. “It’s not much. The produce you had was all bad, so Pop-Tarts, it is.”
“Mmm, my favorite,” he said as he went to pick one up, but when he lifted it off the plate, melted butter slipped onto his hand. He looked at her, feeling off kilter. “You remembered,” he breathed.
She blushed but then got busy opening his medicine and placing his antibiotics and pain pills next to the water. “Only you would get the unfrosted kind and put butter on them instead.” If she’d tried to make him sound like a weirdo, her breathlessness betrayed her. It only made him wonder more why she was here helping him when he’d treated her so badly all those years ago.
“Why are you so nice to me?” he asked, the words spilling out before he could call them back.
Her back stiffened, but she didn’t say anything right away. He took a bite of his pastry to keep from filling the silence. He expected her to lash out, and he’d deserve every foul word uttered his way. When she sat on the foot of his bed and looked at him with sad eyes, he realized he’d been wrong to expect her to yell. She hadn’t screamed at him when he’d broken her heart. Hell, he had no right to expect any reaction from her at all. Expectation implied knowledge, and the truth was he didn’t actually know her. Thinking she’d act like some average woman somehow cheapened her.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d rather not look back. We work together now. You’re not only a colleague, but a victim of a crime I’m investigating. I’d like to keep it at that.”
Jesus, how did she manage to comfort him and pierce him with the same words? The food he was chewing sucked the moisture out of his mouth. That could be the only explanation as to why it was suddenly dry. He took a quick drink. “Whatever you’d like to do,” he said once his tongue worked again.
“What I’d like is for you to take your medicine, so we can talk about what happened.”
He reached for the pills and swallowed them, thankful for the subject change. “I think I remember some of it.”
“Really? What?”
He downed the rest of his breakfast and dusted the crumbs off his blanket. “The delivery driver. He pulled out a gun,” he said, watching her.
She didn’t act surprised. “What else?”
“So, I’m right?”
“If you remember, why are you asking?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Because I dreamed it, but it felt too real.”
“What did the guy look like?”
“Um, average height, maybe a little shorter. Brown wavy hair. Brown eyes. Wore cargo pants and a uniform-style shirt, but no logo on it. Had on black shoes, maybe hiking boots.” He leaned back, thinking.
“What else?” she asked softly. Or maybe the medicine was kicking in, and his brain was clouding her words.
“Gold watch. Seemed outta place, but could’ve been a knockoff.”
“That’s good.”
He yawned. “When’s Bear gonna be here?” he asked without opening his eyes.
“In a little while. You can rest.”
He felt the bed move, but he didn’t look at her. The last thing he heard was the plate scraping against the nightstand as he drifted off to sleep…
Laughing. Working. It was a normal day with his team at the garage. Almost happy, even. Except Gauge kept thinking about the woman he’d let go. Viola couldn’t be classified as the one that got away when he’d tossed her back himself. He had a lifetime of regrets, but that had been the biggest one. Over the years, he’d slowly stopped thinking about calling her out of the blue and confessing what had happened. In the back of his mind, he knew he couldn’t do that to her. She loved her father fiercely. She idolized him so much that she’d joined the bureau to follow in his footsteps. Even though her father had a lot of clout, she’d been determined to make her own path. It’d been one of the things he’d admired so much about her. He couldn’t let that be ripped away.
“Um, I need Hunter Anderson’s signature,” the guy said, his gaze darting to the side, dragging Gauge out of his thoughts of the beautiful woman who haunted his dreams.
Dreams. Was that why he kept thinking about her? Was he dreaming again?
Yes, yes, he was.
“I can sign it,” Gauge said, but instead of him saying it, he was watching himself as if he were a spectator in this dream.
“It, er, has to be Mr. Anderson.”
This driver. He was going to shoot Gauge. He knew it, but why? He watched as the man sweated in his ill-fitting clothes.
“What’s the hold up?” Hunter asked, jogging around the corner.
The shifty driver quickly reached into the cab, and Gauge knew exactly what he was grabbing.
“Get down,” Gauge yelled to Hunter. He jumped, but it felt as if his body was flying in slow motion. He wasn’t going to make, but at least Hunter wouldn’t be killed.
Gauge could live with that. He’d been trained to protect others. Even if he wasn’t technically an agent anymore, it was ingrained in him. He’d willingly die to protect this man and any other on his team. They were his friends.
They were his brothers.
“Nobody fucks with the Romanos,” the guy said before firing the bullet that landed squarely in Gauge’s chest.
The pain sliced through him, and he jerked with a scream.
Hands where on him, saving him.
No, soothing him.
“It’s okay,” the voice of an angel said.
He’d known it was inevitable, his death. He just hadn’t thought himself worthy of Heaven. “Hurts,” he muttered. He thought there wasn’t supposed to be pain in the afterlife. When he opened his eyes and saw the face that had haunted him for too many years, he realized this wasn’t Heaven at all. It was Hell. It served him right to be tortured with Viola’s image for all eternity. He tried to tell her he was sorry, but she brushed her hand on his cheek and cooed soothing words.
Slowly, the fog lifted and reality settled in again. Shit, was this going to be how it was while he healed? Sleeping and reliving the shooting over and over in his dreams? “How long was I asleep?” he asked, still feeling doped and exhausted.
“Couple of hours.”
