Play You: A Second Chance/Single Dad Romance (Rebel Ink Book 4) Page 21

  I unlock it and stare down at the passcode.

  "Fuck."

  "Try your birthday," Justin suggests.

  "W-what?"

  "Your birthday. You know, six digits."

  I do as he suggests, although it seems crazy. Surely it's more likely to be Em— "Well, shit."

  I meet his knowing eyes in the mirror for a beat before I set about finding the number I need.

  "He never forgot about you, Piper."

  "I..." I start, but I find I don't have any words. I'm so confused right now that words like that don't help.

  Finding Dawson's mum's number, I breathe out a shaky breath and pray I'm not making a massive mistake right now.

  She answers on the second ring and my heart jumps into my throat.

  "Dawson, is everything okay?" she asks in a rush. She sounds every bit the concerned mum, and it makes my heart constrict for everything I lost.

  "Um... i-it's Piper, actually. D-Dawson's hurt. He's been... shot," I force the word out through my clogged throat as she gasps.

  Sarah Ramsey was always such a soft and caring woman. The total opposite of her husband. I often wondered how they ended up together.

  "Oh my God," she breathes.

  "We're heading for his house.”

  "I'm leaving now," she says before I've even started asking my question.

  "O-okay, thank you."

  I'm just about to hang up when she says my name.

  "Yeah?"

  "Thank you, thank you for calling me."

  I nod to myself and hang up. I don't want to tell her that I didn't have any other option.

  Dawson's breathing is getting dangerously shallow as Justin pulls the SUV to a stop outside his house.

  He's pulling open the back door in seconds. "Come on, let’s get this motherfucker inside so you can nurse him back to health."

  "He's been shot, Justin. I don't think I can just dress up and make it all better," I mutter, wishing that I could indeed do just that.

  Justin somehow manages to get him out of the car, allowing me to race around to the front door. I'm about to knock when it opens for me.

  Emmie's eyes land on me for a beat before she looks over my shoulder.

  All the blood drains from her face as she takes in the state of her father.

  "He's going to be okay, Em. Let's move out of the way." We stand aside as Justin gets him into the house. "In there." I point to the living room, pulling Emmie into my arms as a sob rumbles up her throat.

  "H-he's going to die, isn't he?"

  "No, Emmie. No, he's not. But he needs your help right now. Go upstairs and get all the towels you can and any first aid stuff you can find. Your gran is on her way."

  "You called Gran?" she asks, looking a little gobsmacked. "Dad told me e-everything," she manages to get out through her hiccups.

  "O-okay. Well, your gran used to be one of the best nurses in the city. She's worked miracles over the years."

  Emmie nods before turning and racing up the stairs, while I join Justin, who’s trying to make Dawson comfortable on the sofa.

  "It's okay, I've got it." I take over and he stands back to allow me some space. "Are you going to be in trouble for this?"

  He ignores my question. "I'm assuming you left a mess behind you both?"

  "Uh... yeah. Prez was there though, so I've no doubt it's already dealt with."

  "I should get back." He walks out of the room but stops in the doorway when I call his name.

  "Thank you. I don't know what I'd have—" I sob, cutting off my words.

  "It's okay, Piper. I've always got my boy’s back. Reaper or not.”

  I smile at him. "I'll get him to call you when he can," I say, because I can't consider any other outcome than Dawson being okay right now.

  "Appreciated. Call me if you need anything, Piper."

  "Thank you, Justin. Thank you so much." He nods once and then walks from the house.

  "Gran," Emmie shouts as she descends the stairs.

  In seconds Dawson's mum appears in the doorway, still wearing her pyjamas and carrying a huge bag. Hopefully, of all the things she'll need to fix her son.

  "Thank you," I whisper as she drops to her knees beside me.

  Her eyes hold mine for a second. Aside from her obvious concern for her son, her expression is totally unreadable.

  "You can fix him, right?" Emmie asks from the doorway, causing us both to turn to her.

  Tears continue to stream down her cheeks as her eyes flick from Dawson to Sarah and back again.

  "Of course. Why don't you go and make me a coffee while I get started?"

  Emmie rushes off and Sarah opens her bag. "Keep that pressure applied," she instructs as she pulls out a pair of scissors and begins cutting down the centre of Dawson's shirt.

  "Okay."

  "Is this the only wound?"

  "Um..." I think back. There was a second shot. Did it hit him too?

  "I... I don't know. There were two shots but..." My voice wobbles as everything begins to get too much.

  "It's okay, Piper. You did well. Let's get this one looked at and then we'll deal with any others."

  I nod—not that she's looking at me—as I lift Justin's shirt from Dawson's shoulder.

  Sarah gasps when I pull it away to reveal the bullet hole in his skin. I'm hoping it's just because it's her son and not because it's really awful or anything.

  "You're not squeamish, are you?"

  "I think we're about to find out."

  With Emmie standing in the doorway, Sarah works her magic on Dawson.

  Turns out, the bullet went right through, leaving a clean wound for Sarah to patch up. How it didn't hit me, I have no idea. Guilt begins to swamp me that I should be the one with a hole in my body right now, not Dawson.

  That bullet was aimed for my head, it doesn't take an idiot to work that out.

  Dawson saved my life tonight. I have no doubt about that.

  A sob erupts as I sit on my knees, holding Dawson's hand.

  Sarah has given him some pain relief and he's out of it, thankfully unaware of what she's doing.

  "This one is just a graze, I'll just clean it and wrap it. Why don’t you and Emmie go and get a drink? Have a breather."

  "I'm... I'm not sure I can leave him."

  "Piper," she sighs, turning her eyes on me. They're now softer than when she first arrived and it makes a fresh load of tears fill my eyes. "He's going to be okay. You saved him."

  I shake my head. "He wouldn't be in this state if it weren't for me."

  She pulls her gloves off and reaches for my hand. "Everything happens for a reason, sweetie. Now, go and get a drink. I sure could do with another."

  "Okay," I breathe, pushing to my feet. I walk around her, stopping to drop a kiss on Dawson’s forehead.

  "Come on. I make a mean hot chocolate," I say to Emmie as I pass her.

  After Emmie points out where everything is in their kitchen, I work in silence until I lower two mugs of chocolatey, creamy goodness to the counter in front of her.

  "Thank you," she whispers without looking up at me.

  I sit beside her, pulling my mug closer and wrapping my hands around it, relieved to have something warm after being so cold earlier tonight.

  We both stare at our mugs, the tension between us growing as the seconds tick by.

  When Emmie finally does speak, it rocks me to my core.

  "I can't believe you played him. I trusted you."

  My breath catches at the pain in her voice.

  He really did tell her everything.

  "Emmie, I—"

  "No," she snaps, her voice suddenly harder and full of hatred. "Do not sit there and try to make excuses for what you did. He loved you, Piper. He loves you, and you..." Her voice cracks. "How could you?"

  "I'm not going to make any excuses, Emmie. What I did was wrong, but I didn't have a choice."

  "We always have a choice."

  I blow out a breath. Did I? Would my
father have followed through with his threats if I didn't?

  "It didn't feel like I did. But that's not the point. It was wrong, but..."

  "But…" Her eyes narrow on me.

  "I fell in love," I sigh. "My father set the whole thing up, but he clearly didn't think it through properly. Because in pushing me to Dawson, he changed my life forever. Your dad, he..." I laugh to myself as I think back to our time together. "He was everything to me. When we were together, it was like the rest of my life didn't exist. I wasn't Arthur Collins's daughter. My life didn't revolve around doing as I was told or having to toe the club line. I was just me for the first time in my life. It was... it was amazing.

  "I should have told him, I know that now. But I knew he'd hate me, and I knew it would only bring forward the inevitable war between our fathers, and I didn't want to lose him. I was selfish and greedy, but I was in love. We all do stupid things when the heart is involved."

  "Amen," Sarah says, joining us.

  "Mrs. Ramsey, I'm so sorry," I say, turning to her.

  "Sarah, please. I'm not that old yet." She chuckles as she walks farther into the kitchen. "This still hot?" she asks, gesturing to the kettle.

  "Yes, but let me," I say, stepping down from the stool.

  "No, no. You look like you've already been through enough tonight. At the hand of my husband and youngest son, no doubt."

  She doesn't need my verbal answer to confirm her suspicions.

  "Emmie, could you give us some privacy, please?" Sarah asks her granddaughter.

  "Sure. I'll go and sit with Dad."

  Emmie leaves with her mug as the tension thickens around us.

  Sarah doesn't come to sit beside me. Instead, she remains standing.

  "I knew, you know."

  "Knew what?"

  "About the two of you."

  I suck in a breath.

  "My son can't lie, not to me at least. I knew the moment he'd given his heart to a girl."

  "Why didn't you say anything?"

  "Many reasons," she admits. "Some the same as yours. Charles and your father… their rivalry went on for longer than you probably even realise. Did you know that they went to school together?"

  I shake my head.

  "They'd hated each other before they even knew the other existed. Because they knew what their names meant. Once they learned the truth, it was only a matter of time before at least one of them ended up in a coffin. I'm surprised it took as long as it did, to be honest. Sorry," she adds.

  "He was so happy, Piper. I'd never seen the sparkle in his eyes that appeared after he met you. I wanted to believe your intentions were honourable, but deep down, I think I knew they weren't. I found it hard to resent you when you made my son smile as you did.

  "But that all changed when I was forced to watch him drown in pain after the truth was exposed. If I didn't believe you were already dead, I'd have killed you myself back then for the hurt you caused him."

  "I'm so sorry, Sarah. If I could change any of it..."

  "All of that is done. The decisions have been made and the pain felt. It's what happens from here on out that we can control."

  Lifting my mug, I take a sip of the chocolatey goodness, hoping that it gives me some of the answers that I so desperately need. Sadly, no inspiration strikes. Instead, all that happens is my exhaustion hitting me. I really need to be curled up in a bed with this right now, not getting an interrogation from Dawson's mother.

  "I knew that you couldn't have been dead the second I looked into my son's eyes when he came to dinner last weekend. I knew that no other woman could put that look on his face. I also knew nothing good could come of it."

  "It seems you weren't the only one who knew, because Cruz didn't waste much time."

  "He's angry, Piper. He's never forgiven Dawson for walking away, and he blames you for that."

  "So I heard," I mutter, thinking of the words he spat at me in that room.

  She drinks her chocolate despite the fact that it's still steaming hot and then turns her narrowed eyes on me. Gone is the softness of a few moments ago, and in its place is a warning, one that she ensures I hear loud and clear.

  "My son loves you, Piper. I didn't need to tend to the fallout of tonight to know that. My husband, despite his actions, knows this too. If this is what you want, then you need to fight for it. I'll talk to Charles and Cruz and ensure the two of you are left alone. But—and don't take what I'm about to say lightly, Piper— if you hurt him again, I will come after you, and I will ensure that I don't walk away until I see that bullet go through your head with my own two eyes."

  My mouth goes dry and I fight to force down a swallow.

  "I know things are rarely simple. Take some time to figure out what you want, but once you do, stick to that decision. I'm not my husband, I don't go around ending lives for the sake of it, but hurt those I love and you can be damn sure I'll turn up on your doorstep with only one intention."

  I watch her tip the contents of her mug into the sink before placing it into the dishwasher. When she turns back to me, her concerned mum expression is back full force.

  "I've given Dawson enough pain relief for about four hours. I've left a box of medication on the coffee table. Two pills every four hours if he needs it. If that's not enough, call me. If you run out, call me. If anything—"

  "I'll call you," I reassure her. "He's in good hands, Sarah. I promise."

  "I know he is, sweetie. I'm just his mum, I can't help it." She smiles. "I'll just go and say goodbye to them both and I'll be out of your hair."

  "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

  She nods, squeezes my shoulder gently as she passes, and leaves the room.

  I know she's right. I've got a lot to think about. Tonight has revealed a lot of truths, but right now, I'm too exhausted to even remember what they all are.

  I listen to their voices before the front door opens and closes, signalling Sarah's departure.

  I allow myself two minutes to finish my drink before I walk through to check on them.

  "Everything okay?" I ask Emmie, who's sitting on a cushion on the floor beside her dad, holding his hand. My heart clenches at the sight of them.

  "Gran is right, you know," Emmie says, startling me. "If you hurt him, I'll be standing right beside her as she puts an end to it all."

  "Emmie, it was never my intention to hurt him." My eyes remain locked on Dawson's face. All I ever wanted was to be able to love him. I sigh, and Emmie finally looks up at me.

  "You should go shower. You look a mess."

  A sad laugh falls from my lips. I haven’t looked at myself, but after what I've been through tonight, I can only assume she's telling the truth.

  "Dad has an en suite in his room, second door on the left."

  "T-thank you. Do you need anything before I..." I trail off, glancing over my shoulder at the stairs.

  "No, I'm okay." I nod, turning away from her and heading for the stairs. "Piper," she calls out, making my steps falter. "I'm really glad you're okay. I'm sorry about my crazy family."

  I laugh, this time a lot more genuinely. "I'm glad your dad kept you away from this crazy world, Emmie. You're so lucky to have him."

  "I know," she whispers, her voice cracking once more.

  Leaving them together, I make my way upstairs to clean up.

  I don't want to, but the second I locate Dawson's en suite, I stand at the basin and look into the mirror. My hair is all over the place, my makeup is smeared across my face, and my cheek is still glowing red from where that prick backhanded me. My dress is covered in Dawson's blood and ripped at the shoulder, but thankfully it covers up enough of me that I haven’t spent the evening flashing everyone. Lifting my hands, I find marks around them where they were bound with rough rope.

  I sigh as I stare into my red-ringed eyes. I shake my head, not wanting the memories of tonight to assault me. Not yet, anyway.

  Stripping out of my clothes, I turn Dawson's shower on and step under th
e torrent of hot water. It runs a murky shade of brown around my feet and my lips curl in disgust.

  It was never meant to come to this.

  Unable to stop the tears, they fall from my eyelashes and mix with the shower water.

  He's playing you, baby girl.

  Cruz's words fill my mind, no matter how much I try to force them away. I can't think about them now; I just need to get through the night and ensure Dawson heals, and then I can deal with it. Then I can find out the truth and then make some decisions about my future.

  27

  Dawson

  Pain. That’s the only thing I feel when I begin to wake from what feels like the deepest sleep of my life.

  Why does everything hurt—

  My eyes rip open as memories assault me one after the other.

  Emmie's call to say Piper had gone.

  Finding her in that basement.

  Dad.

  Cruz.

  Jinx.

  The sound of the gunshots echoes in my mind like they've just happened, and the pain in my shoulder only increases as I remember the bullet piercing my skin.

  I remember carrying her out. She's okay. She was alive, and then... nothing.

  I look around the darkness of my own living room.

  How did I get back here?

  Twisting my head to the side, my breath catches when I find Piper asleep on the floor beside the sofa I'm on, covered in Emmie's pink blanket.

  Unable to ignore my need to touch her to make sure I'm not hallucinating from the pain, I reach out with my good arm.

  My other shoulder screams and makes my eyes water, but I don't let it stop me. I need to know I'm not imagining all of this right now and the reality isn’t that we're both dead, our bodies being taken care of by the team who clean up all of my father's messes.

  The second my fingertips connect with her warm cheek, relief like I've never felt before floods me. Emotion clogs my throat and tears burn the backs of my eyes.

  She's okay. We're okay.

  She stirs from my touch, and I feel bad that my need for her has disturbed her after what she went through because of me.

  I stupidly thought my father and Cruz wouldn't find out about this. That we would be safe for a while before I grew a pair and spoke to them about it.