Neither will I.
I do walk into the bedroom to get dressed, but I leave the door open to hear their conversation, so I know if I need to step out in Magnum’s defense.
“I take it you know?” Mag asks.
“Yes, my fucking girl told me, which is a hell of a lot more than you fucking did. Or any of those other fucking punk asses.”
“You should see the way they care for her,” Mag starts.
“I have seen. What do you think tipped me off in the goddamn first place?”
“Don’t be mad at her.”
“Mad at her? I’m not fucking mad at her.” Another loud thunk comes, and I can only imagine Johnny has shoved him up against the door again. I find a pair of black silk panties in the pile of clothes he brought for me and slip them on while letting the towel hit the floor. Then, I pull the leggings on, all the while listening to their conversation.
Johnny screams in frustration. “It’s my fault. I’m a big enough man to admit that, and don’t even say you didn’t mean for this shit to happen like some goddamn soap opera. You knew how much I cared for her. You fucking knew, Cotton.”
After putting the bra on that Mag chose for me, I slip the shirt over my head and frown at Johnny’s use of Mag’s real name. I can’t remember ever hearing him call him anything but Mag or Magnum. Maybe this means it’s more personal for him. It’s not about the gang. This is about them being friends.
“I know,” Mag says, voice deepening. “Fuck.”
I bite my lip as I lean against the wall next to the door. The crack in Mag’s voice hurts.
“When I said do anything to keep her safe, it didn’t mean you could fucking fall for her too. The one thing in my life I’ve ever had that actually means something. That was actually for me. Only me.”
A quiet growl rips from Jacob’s throat. “Don’t you think she’s that for all of us? I told her I thought she was your savior, but what if she’s all of ours? God knows we don’t fucking deserve one.”
“No, you don’t deserve mine. My savior.”
“You’re going to have to stop thinking of her that way,” Mag counters. “She’s not just yours.”
“She will be. By the end of all this, she won’t even remember your fucking names. I told her I’d fight for her. Right after I made her come on my dick five fucking amazing times.” His voice lowers. “Ahhh,” Johnny practically purrs. “I can see in your eyes you haven’t done that yet. But you want to. Let’s see if she feels the same way now.”
Johnny’s whispered threats simultaneously turn me on and piss me off. I walk out of the room while they stare at one another. “I’m ready,” I announce.
“Mag and I aren’t done.”
“Oh, but you are,” I say. “Magnum’s taking me to my PT appointment for my neck.”
“I’m coming with you,” Johnny says, not even looking at me. He still has Mag pressed up against the door.
“Don’t you have to deal with Candy’s? We’ll be fine.”
Johnny finally turns toward me. He’s shirtless in a pair of low-slung sweats, and if he just wore that forever, I’d be the happiest woman alive. He lets Mag go and comes toward me. Reaching out his hand, he pulls me against him as soon as I put my hand in his. He turns me so my back is facing Magnum and then takes a handful of my ass. “That’s why Jiko is here. He can handle it. Your appointment is important.”
This is about more than my appointment, but it will also be a good test to see how Johnny will get along with the rest of the guys. Right now, it’s not looking too good.
“Just let me get dressed.” He pauses and glances back at Magnum. “Do we have time to do that, Dad?” Johnny sneers.
I smirk, hiding my face in Johnny’s neck. He’s trying to throw Mag’s age at him, but what he doesn’t realize is that his maturity is sexy as fuck.
Mag doesn’t answer aloud, but Johnny kisses my temple and swaggers his way into the bedroom. I turn, hesitantly. Mag glares daggers into Johnny’s back. It’s a look I’ve never seen him give the heir to the Crew before. “So, um...Johnny knows,” I say. Stating the obvious is kind of my specialty.
Mag barely lets the words get out of my mouth before he yanks me toward him and winds his arms around me. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?” His gruff voice sends shivers down my spine.
“He didn’t hurt me. He was surprisingly cool with it. Way cooler than he was with you.”
Mag shrugs. “I deserve it.”
I pull away to stare into his hazel-green eyes. Specks of gold greet me. “Do you really think I’m all your saviors?”
“I think you’re that and so much fucking more.”
His words are like a tractor beam leading me forward until my lips press against his. He’s hesitant at first, but when I don’t give him the opportunity to pull away, he throws himself into it, kissing me nice and slow like we’re basking in our own private spot in heaven.
Moments later, a shuffle sounds behind us, and Mag tears me away from him. I reach up to touch my swollen lips, knowing Johnny saw that. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to hurt any of them. That’s the last fucking thing I want to do with all of this. Is it naïve to think this is all some divine intervention though? I wasn’t supposed to come to the Heights. These guys definitely don’t fucking belong in the Heights. Yet, somehow, by pure accident of circumstances, we’re thrown together. Five lost people. Five humans with misguided morals and pasts. What if coming together saves all of us?
I pull my big girl panties on and glance over at Johnny. “Ready?”
Determination dawns in his gaze. “I’m always ready when it comes to you, babe. Let me just grab my gun.”
My eyes widen as Johnny goes into the closet to pull out his piece. I never know where he’s hidden the thing. I swear he tucks it away in different places all over the apartment, and I don’t know if it’s on purpose or if it’s just something he does.
“Ready,” Johnny says, brandishing the Glock with a glint in his ice-blue eyes.
Jesus fuck. I may have just declared war between a bunch of guys who are literally weapons in and of themselves.
Despite their spat, Johnny and Mag talk business on the way to my PT appointment, and I’m glad they can put their personal differences aside and still work on Crew shit. With how Johnny acted this morning, I wasn’t sure if he would just fire Magnum, but that’s in the same box as killing him. He can’t do anything to the guys without hurting me, and he won’t do that.
Sly thing, isn’t he?
Johnny traces his thumb over the skin of my hand. “Detective Reynolds was probably following you as much as he was Kyla yesterday. You did punch him.”
Mag’s jaw ticks. “He knew he wouldn’t get anywhere with that, though. No cameras, and everyone in that hall would’ve taken my side.”
“Wasn’t there another police officer there, too?” I ask, trying to remember. “Yeah, he handcuffed Oscar.”
Mag smirks. “Apparently, he’s someone who thinks Reynolds is a fucking dick. He also has a brother in the Crew, so...”