Snake was looking in his direction so I took advantage of his stupidity and grabbed up the gun, pointing it right at his temple. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“Get your hands off me,” I said low, enjoying the heavy weight of the metal in my palm.
Snake removed his hand from the back of my neck and backed up a little. Brody stopped in the center of the room, watching the situation unfold.
The other guys in the room all pulled out their guns, aiming them in my direction. Still, I didn’t lower mine. I didn’t feel good, I was thirsty, and I was pissed.
“What the hell is going on?” Brody asked.
“Your woman is whacked,” Snake said, backing away from me.
“I like my bitches crazy,” Brody said. I considered turning the gun on him.
Before I could make up my mind, he crossed the room, stepped in the path of the gun, and wrapped his hand around the barrel. His eyes met mine. I saw the concern shading the espresso color and the toughness inside me seemed to fizzle out.
He took the gun and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans.
“That’s my gun,” Snake said, stepping forward.
“I know you got more than one,” Brody reasoned.
Shit. I hadn’t even thought of that.
Snake shrugged.
“I brought some donuts and coffee,” he gestured, and for the first time since he walked in I smelled the sweet pastry and the warm rich scent of coffee.
“That’s decent of ya,” Tommy said, already shoving a glazed donut into his mouth.
Brody didn’t even glance at me when he walked across the room, picked up a Styrofoam cup, a couple bags, and came back. He set everything on the edge of the cot and extended the cup to me.
“Drink this,” he said. “It’s warm.”
My stomach revolted at the thought of putting anything in it, but my fingers practically shouted Amen! when the heat seeped into my stiff joints.
Brody glanced back at the others, who were all involved in the food and coffee he brought, laughing over something on someone’s phone. He glanced back at me. “Did he hurt you?”
I shook my head, taking in the presence of his shirt and the way it stretched across his shoulders.
“Thanks for getting me a gun.”
“I didn’t get it for you. I got it for me.” I gave him a look, hoping he would get the point and hand it over.
He grinned. “I’m a better shot than you.”
“How do you know?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“‘Cause you’re a girl.”
“You did not just play the ‘I’m the man’ card, did you?”
He grinned again. He had one of those naughty grins that probably charmed the panties off all those women Snake said he had.
That thought made me a lot less charmed.
Brody gave me a curious glance. “What is it?” He frowned. “Are you feeling worse?” He laid the back of his hand against my forehead and glanced at my arm.
“Please tell me you got some Tylenol.”
With one hand, he dumped out the contents of the bag on the end of the cot. I turned my head to look at it all, but another wave of dizziness had me pressing more firmly against the wall.
“Drink that,” he ordered, sifting through the items.
My hand shook as I lifted the heavy cup to my lips and tilted it so the warm liquid spilled onto my tongue. It was a latte and it was really sweet… It tasted like caramel and whipped cream.
I swallowed the sweet concoction, which made a path all the way down into my stomach. It was good so I took another sip.
Using his teeth, he ripped open a pack of what looked like Advil and dumped several pills into his palm. “I wasn’t sure what kind of Gatorade you like.” The look on his face was sheepish.
I looked down to see five bottles of the stuff lying across the cot. A small smile curved my lips. “You got one of every color?”
How sweet was he?
“Which one do you want?” he asked, gruff, like he was embarrassed he’d done something so sweet.
“Purple.”
“Figures,” he muttered and grabbed it up, uncapped the lid, and then traded me the latte. “Open,” he ordered, holding the pills against my mouth. I told myself the sudden chill was just another side effect of the fever and not because his fingers brushed my lips.
I did as he asked and he dropped the pills on my tongue. I swallowed them down with a few great gulps of the drink. I felt the cool liquid slosh around in my belly and it made me squirm uncomfortably. I willed myself not to throw up. I needed those meds and I had to keep them down.
I dropped the Gatorade in my lap and he moved it. Before handing the coffee back to me, he raised it to his lips and I watched his throat work as he swallowed.
One of his tattoos stretched up a little above the neckline of his T-shirt, and I stared at the way it practically caressed the side of his throat. Brody lowered the drink, catching my stare, and we sat there for long moments, studying one another… like we weren’t in a serious situation, like this was some casual meeting.
“Here,” he said finally, his voice for my ears only, surrendering the cup to my cold hands.
He reached for the buttons on my shirt and I froze. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, rocking back on his heels. “I thought that moment we just had counted as foreplay… That wasn’t an invitation to second base?”
I snorted. “You would think that.”
His eyes narrowed and a little chill raced up my spine. How he went from playful to intimidating in a matter of seconds was unsettling. “What the hell does that mean?”
I motioned with my chin toward Snake and his fellow thugs. “He had you checked out,” I whispered.
Brody grunted, not seeming surprised at all. He began to rifle through the stuff on the bed, lining up what looked like legit medical supplies. “Where did you get all that?”
“I stole it.”
“You stole medicine for me?” I asked, oddly touched by his criminal activity.
The next thing I knew I was going to be a guest on the Dr. Phil show titled: “When Bad Boys Happen to Good Girls.”
“You needed it.” He shrugged. Then he reached for the buttons again. This time I didn’t stop him as he began to unfasten the flannel around me.
“What did he find out?” Brody asked low as he leaned forward to peel the shirt away from my body.
“Apparently you have quite a reputation with the ladies.”