Marked Men: Rome Part 2

We shook hands and I promised that I would touch base with him when I was in more functioning order.

I had to wait longer than I was comfortable with to see someone, and by the time they took me to the sterile little room and pulled the curtain around the bed, I was pretty sure I was staying conscious by the sheer force of my will alone. I was peeling my ruined T-shirt off over my head when the curtain moved back and a really pretty nurse holding a chart came in. She had her head bent over whatever she was reading and it gave me the opportunity to check her out. She had long copper hair twisted in a braid away from a truly lovely face. She looked a couple of years younger than me, and I couldn't help but appreciate that she was rocking some kick-a.s.s curves under those boring scrubs all medical professionals seemed to wear.

"Hey."

She looked up at the sound of my voice and blinked wide, dove-gray eyes at me. I don't know if it was the sight of my naked chest or the fact that I was now covered head to waist in blood that had her looking apprehensive.

"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Archer. It looks like you had a rough night."

"I've had better, that's for sure."

She snapped on some latex gloves and came over to stand beside me.

"Let's have a look at what kind of trouble you got yourself into, shall we?"

She poked and prodded at my head and I tried not to stare at her b.o.o.bs. She really was a pretty girl and it made the sting of her jabbing at my newest battle wounds hurt just a little less.

"What's your name?" I didn't really need to know it, I probably would never see her again after I got st.i.tched up, but her eyes were just so soft and pretty I couldn't help but ask.

She gave me a friendly smile and looked like she was about to oblige me when the flimsy curtain was yanked back and Nash came barreling through. His cornflower-blue eyes were on fire with a mixture of anger and concern. The flames tattooed on the side of his head were standing out as the vein under them throbbed in irritation.

"Do you have any idea the kind of h.e.l.l I'm going to get from Rule when he finds out about this? G.o.dd.a.m.n it, Rome, what the f.u.c.k is wrong with you lately?"

I was going to respond when his attention switched from me to the lovely nurse who was staring at him with her mouth hanging slightly open. I was used to Nash's dramatic look and larger-than-life presence. He and Rule had always drawn a lot of attention, so it never fazed me, but the pretty little nurse suddenly looked like she was seeing a ghost and it looked like Nash was trying to place where he might have seen her before as well.

"I just need to get st.i.tched up and then you can yell at me on the way home."

The nurse cleared her throat and tossed her now-bloodstained gloves in the trash. "You're probably looking at staples for the laceration in your head. It's pretty nasty and deeper than it looks. The slice on the side is pretty clean, so you might get away with just a topical, liquid suture on it. The doc will be in shortly."

Her entire demeanor changed with Nash in the room. I could tell he noticed something was off with her as well. He scrunched up his nose and stared at her until she was uncomfortable enough to look up at him.

"Do we know each other?"

She shook her head so hard that she dislodged the pen she had tucked behind her ear.

"No. No I don't think we do."

He scratched his chin and narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you sure? You look really familiar to me."

She shrugged and fiddled with the stethoscope that dangled around her neck. She was hot, and if I was so inclined, I could see working up some really nice nurse fantasies where she was the main attraction.

"I get that a lot. I must just have one of those faces. I have to run. No rest for the wicked." She gave me a little grin and disappeared around the corner, leaving both of us staring after her, me in pure male appreciation, Nash in puzzlement.

"I swear I know that chick from somewhere."

"She one of your one-hit wonders?"

"No. Maybe Rule's pre-Shaw?"

I snorted and contemplated the ceiling while my head and side continued to burn. "She seems too smart to fall into that category."

"Maybe. It's going to drive me nuts until I figure it out. What the h.e.l.l happened to you tonight? Picking a fight with Rule wasn't enough, you had to take on a whole biker bar?"

"'Merica!" I gave a bitter laugh at my lame joke.

He scowled at me and took a seat on the doctor's wheelie chair, dwarfing the thing.

"Seriously, Rome. You need to knock this s.h.i.t off."

I didn't have to answer because the doctor chose that moment to come in. He was a guy in his fifties who clearly was at the end of a long shift because he was no-nonsense as all get-out and wasted no time in fixing me right up. When he was done he gave me a serious look and told me I might want to lay off the booze considering my blood test came back potent enough to start fires, and all I could do was silently agree.

He scribbled a prescription for painkillers that I hoped I wouldn't need to fill since I was already struggling with my reliance on another dangerous substance, and told me the nurse would be back in a few minutes to discharge me. I was stoked about having one more chance to get my flirt going, but as soon as she stuck her head back in, it was clear she was all business and wanted nothing more than to see us go.

"Take care of yourself, Mr. Archer, and thank you for your service to our country."

She spun around to leave when Nash suddenly hopped to his feet and snapped his fingers. It made the nurse wince and made me frown.

"I knew I knew you! We went to high school together, didn't we? Aren't you Saint Ford?"

We could have heard a pin drop she went so still and got so quiet. She stared at him like he had just crawled out of the sewer.

"I am. I'm surprised you recognized me, most people don't."

He tilted his head to the side and gave her a considering look. "Why did you say we didn't know each other, then?"

She cleared her throat and fiddled with the end of her braid. She was clearly very uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Because high school was a million years ago and I was a very different person then. It's not a time that comes with the fondest memories; in fact I prefer to pretend it never even happened. I'm sure that's not something a guy like you can understand. Have a nice night; try to avoid any more knife-wielding bikers if you can, Mr. Archer."

She swept out in a haughty cloud, leaving both of us dumbfounded and gaping at each other.

"Whoa. Were you a d.i.c.k to her in school or something? That was a whole lot of hostility for something that happened so long ago."

He shrugged and helped me get up onto my feet. I wobbled a bit from the mixture of alcohol and blood loss, so he didn't let go until I was steady.

"Probably. Rule, Jet, and I were a bunch of punks. Remy was the nice one."

"What do you mean, 'were'? You probably teased her for being fat or something."

He had the good grace to look ashamed. "That is entirely possible. I wasn't exactly in a great place when I was in high school either. There was too much stuff going on with my mom and that idiot she married for me to really give a c.r.a.p about anything or anyone else. Man, that blows. She's a total babe now."

I didn't even consider putting my blood-soaked shirt back on as I hobbled out of the emergency room.

"She sure is."

We got to Nash's fully restored '73 Dodge Charger and I slumped down in the seat. It wasn't the worst Independence Day I could remember having, but it sure wasn't one of the best either. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget about everything, not that that seemed to be working out for me so great as of late.

"Listen, dude, I'm sorry about today. I'll touch base with Rule and make things right. I'm just a little off balance right now."

The ma.s.sive motor rattled so loud it made my teeth hurt.

"We all get that. You just aren't giving anyone a chance to try and help set you straight."

"I'll chill out." I wasn't sure how I was going to go about that exactly but I knew I needed to get on it. "You can tell the rabid pixie to back off."

He laughed. "No can do, my friend. Cora is like a pit bull; when she sinks her teeth into something or someone she doesn't let go. You might want to try and apologize. She just wants to look out for all of us and she does a good job of it."

I closed my eyes and let my head drop back on the seat.

"I remember when that was my job."

Heavy silence filled the car and I didn't think he was going to say anything else about it, but after a minute he muttered, "You went off to save the entire world, Rome, we just did the best we could while you were gone."

Just like being a big guy often had its disadvantages, wanting to be a hero to everyone and anyone often had the same dangerous pitfalls. I got used to everyone needing me, to them relying on me, and now that I wasn't needed anymore I simply didn't know what to do with myself. That honestly terrified me more than any war zone or bar brawl with armed bikers ever could.

CHAPTER 3.

Cora

Summertime was always busier at the shop. It was the Tuesday after the ill-fated barbecue, and the ink bunnies were out in full force. The warm weather and lack of clothes led to people wanting to get all kinds of adornment in all kinds of interesting and visible places, and I swore to G.o.d that ever since Rule had officially gone off the market, the girls who came in to get work done specifically by him had doubled in number. I would never understand the allure of wanting something you clearly couldn't have, but I had to admit it was a riot to watch them try to get it.

The Terrible Trio were booked solid for the next six weeks, as were the other three artists who rounded out the crew at the Marked. I wasn't as busy since I had to schedule appointments around my other obligations at the shop. Today a young guy had wandered in talking a big game about getting a full Jacob's ladder, but hadn't even made it past the point where he actually had to take his pants and underwear off to let me get at the goods. That happened a lot, so I found myself with an hour of downtime that I was using to stalk Jimmy on Facebook.

For the last five years Jimmy only popped up in my mind when something or someone reminded me of him, but ever since that wedding invitation showed up in the mail, I was obsessed. It was like all the old hurt, the old embarra.s.sment, was fresh in my mind and all the wounds he had left me with were opened back up and bleeding. I really owed that jacka.s.s a punch in the nuts if I ever saw him again. I hated to admit that the girl my ex was going to marry really was lovely and that they looked happy together, but then I remembered that he and I had looked that way as well at one point in time and it hadn't kept him faithful to me.

The guys were listening to some really loud punk rock and I wasn't really paying attention because I was lost in my own memories when I realized someone was leaning on the counter across from me. The waiting area had people milling around waiting for their friends or family members to finish up with their appointments, but I hadn't heard the chime of the bell over the door ring to indicate a new arrival. At first I thought it was a walk-in wanting to set up a consult, but it was only when I had to lift my gaze up, and then even farther up, that I realized it was not someone I was particularly happy to see. My feelings must have been reflected on my face because the hard mouth I was used to seeing in a harsh downturn actually kicked up on one side in a grin that transformed Rome's entire face.

There was no denying the Archer brothers had won the genetic lottery. Whereas Rule's good looks were camouflaged under self-adorned artwork and flair, Rome's were totally in your face and impossible for all the girly parts of me not to notice. If the army wanted to guarantee the recruitment of every ninety-pound weakling from here to Brooklyn, all they needed to do was slap Rome Archer on their recruitment posters. He just emanated a sense of "take care of business" that was heady, and I shouldn't have found it attractive, but I totally did. He was as gorgeous as he was annoying.

I cleared my throat and clicked off the browser.

"You look terrible." And he did. He had a black ball cap on with a white Broncos logo on the front, but even under the shadow of the brim I could see that he had the shadow of a bruise under one eye and that the knuckles of the hands he had placed on the counter where he was leaning were torn up and covered in scabs. All that aside, his eyes were still the bluest blue I had ever seen and that tiny little grin did more to make him look like an actual, breathing human than I think a full-on smile ever could.

The eyebrow under the scar twitched a little and he rapped his fingers on the marble that separated us.

"You have really pretty eyes."

I blinked those eyes in surprise because I wasn't expecting that. So far all this guy had shown he was capable of emoting was vitriol and angst. The compliment seemed out of left field.

"Ahh ... thanks?" My eyes were two different colors. The left was a bright, iridescent turquoise that was indeed really pretty, the right was a hazel brown that fluctuated between hot-cocoa brown to the color of espresso at any given moment. People commented on them a lot, but I never would have figured Rome to be one of them. In fact I think it was the first thing he had ever spoken directly to me. I was good with words, so I didn't love that him being nice made me tongue-tied.

"Do you think you can grab my brother for me? I need to talk to him really quick. I have an entire postIndependence Day parade of repentance I need to get through today."

I stared up at him in surprise. In my experience big, gruff ex-soldiers weren't the type of guys who readily admitted accountability when they messed up. I wasn't sure what to make of that, or really of him. I did know his looming presence and those too-blue eyes were making me kind of uncomfortable, but not in the he's a big jerk kind of way, more in the I really want to see him without a shirt on kind of way.

I cleared my throat again and looked back into the shop. Rule was wiping the clear goo on the fresh ink he used to protect the tattoo for the client until they got home. He was watching Rome and me interact with a frown on his face and I noticed that Nash and Rowdy all wore similar expressions. I didn't know if the sour looks were directed at me or at Rome, but I didn't like it either way and gave them all a glare back. I swiveled around in my chair and looked back up at Rome. He was watching me with a look of curiosity on his face and I almost wished I knew him better so I knew what it meant.

"He'll be done in like fifteen minutes if you want to hang out. He has another appointment right behind it, though, so try and keep the murder and mayhem to a minimum."

He snorted and pushed off the counter. I hated to admit it, but I couldn't pull my gaze away from the muscles that were rippling along his huge biceps, visible under the sleeves of his black T-shirt. I wasn't the kind of girl who was attracted to bulging muscles and a rock-hard physique, at least I never thought I was until I couldn't pull my eyes off of all the sinew and flex that was Rome Archer. He was just too big, too much, and way too all-American to be sending all those kinds of tingly things running under my skin.

"I'm not exactly sure why, but I feel like I should apologize to you as well. Even though I'm the one that ended up covered head to toe in beer."

I winced a little and tried not to squirm under the scrutiny of those piercing eyes. I tugged on my ear and looked away. The smooth surface of the plug in the lobe rubbed back and forth between my fingers.

"I have a tendency to overreact at times, and you were being unbearable. Every one of those people loves you and has worried about you for years and years while you were gone. The least you can do is return that affection."

He had the good grace to look properly chastised, and when he took his hat off to rub a hand over his short cap of hair, I noticed a nasty-looking gash that now decorated the side of his head.

"What on earth happened to you?"

He looked confused until his fingers grazed the shaved spot and the tiny metal sutures holding his scalp together.

He slammed his hat back on his head and the grin that had been dancing around his mouth fell totally away.

"Wrong place at the wrong time, I have a knack for finding myself there."

I didn't understand how a guy who clearly had so much going for him-good looks, a loving family, hordes of people that cared about him, a successful career, and obviously a rigid sense of duty and honor-could be so unconcerned about his circ.u.mstances and his impact on those around him.

I c.o.c.ked my head to the side and regarded him closely. I didn't know Rome from any other stranger on the street, but there was something about him, something strong and magnetic that I was having a hard time denying made me want to figure out what made him tick. Maybe it was the idea of having a distraction from how b.u.mmed out I was becoming the closer the date to Jimmy's wedding got. Maybe it was because he was so ingrained in the lives of everyone I cared about. Maybe it was because he was just so much larger than life and impossible to ignore, but the longer we stared at each other the more my curiosity was piqued.

I was going to tell him he should be more careful, when a heavy hand fell on the back of my neck and gave it a slight squeeze. I knew Rule well enough to take it as the warning it was: Don't meddle. Rome didn't need me trying to dismantle him and rea.s.semble him in proper working order. He was a grown man and was going to have to find his way on his own.

Rule's client looked back and forth between the brothers with huge eyes and then at me, like I could explain why the room suddenly seemed full of tension and hostility, making it almost impossible to breathe. I forced a smile at her and climbed out of the chair.

"Let me just check you out and get you paid up. Why don't you two take the brotherly love outside before you scare the rest of the customers into leaving?"

Rule gave the back of my neck another squeeze and let me go as he made his way around the counter toward Rome. The two brothers regarded each other stonily and Rule pushed out the gla.s.s front door without saying a word to his big brother. The antagonism pa.s.sing between the two of them felt hot and heavy, which was a shame. They had already suffered the loss of one brother, they should be reveling in the fact they still had each other to lean on and give s.h.i.t to. I had a hard time understanding how Remy's secrets had done more to drive the Archer brothers apart than his actual death had.

Rome gave me one last look that I couldn't decipher. "They're all lucky to have you."

I thought the same thing all the time, but it was weird hearing him say it in such an empty and hollow tone, like he was missing something crucial.

"Well, I'm lucky to have all of them, too, and so are you, Captain No-Fun."

Those blue eyes got big and then blinked at me and once again that little half grin that turned him from a good-looking dude into someone that made my heart b.u.mp against my chest in an erratic rhythm lit up his face.