Tattered Love (Needle's Kiss) (17 page)

Putting my hand over her mouth, I cut off her “Mace is the shit” speech. “I want him back. He’s been worming himself back into my good graces with all his tacky cheese, but this,” doing a sweep of the room with my hand, “this sealed the deal. He had me at ‘Happy Birthday’”

Teeny jumped up and down with a squeal, showing just how happy she was.

About an hour later, I was still trying to get a moment alone with Mace. Every time I thought I had him to myself, somebody would interrupt, or he’d have to run away and sort something out.

I’d had enough of waiting for the perfect moment. I just wanted him to know I’d forgiven him, loved him and wanted to spend the night in his arms. Pushing past everybody, I stepped up in front of him, my back facing the large bay window, moonlight shining in through the open curtains. “I need to speak with you a minute.”

Mace picked up my hand smiling down at me, his eyes shining with adoration. His eyes flicked up over my shoulder, a look of recognition played across his face a millisecond before it turned to a look of pure horror, his features crumpling. A look of pure panic registered on his face.

All of a sudden, a loud bang and the sound of glass breaking, split through the room. A jarring pain hit my side as I was thrown to the floor, my body throbbing from the sheer force of hitting the ground. Screams of panic. Fear or pain followed—I was unsure which, and that thought alone terrified me. My ears were ringing from the sounds around me. As I lifted my hand, I saw it covered in blood. I was confused and disorientated. My blood ran cold through my body as reality set in and the scene around me became a little clearer.

Scarlett’s face drained of color as she stared at her hands and looked back at me. “You’re bleeding! Why are you bleeding? Where? Mace!” Scarlett was frantic, worry etched on her face.

“I’m okay, babe. I’m fine. Just my shoulder. It was a gunshot, but don’t panic. You okay?” I asked through clenched teeth, trying to bite back the burn in my arm and back. My training kicked in; I needed everyone out of the way into safety.

“You saved me, wait who? Where? Somebody shot at us?” she rambled, clearly still confused. I ran my good hand and eyes quickly over her to be sure she wasn’t hurt.

My heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through my body as I moved to stand. Darting my eyes around everywhere to make sure nobody else was hurt, I saw Trip’s back was to me; he had Teeny pinned behind him, protecting her.

“Everyone in the back of the house now! Move, move!” I needed everyone out of the way of danger. Janelle was still standing, gun pointed at the spot Scarlett had been. She’d been aiming at Scar, but the moment I saw her standing outside the window, gun aimed, instinct took over and I shoved Scar to the ground seconds before she would have been shot.

“Trip! Get everyone out now. Take the girls!” I ordered as calmly as I could. Scarlet looked like she was moving towards Teeny and Trip so I slowly moved toward the front of the house. Another blast of shocking pain ripped through me as Janelle dropped to the ground on her knees screaming nonsense

“What have I done? Oh no! Mace, it wasn’t supposed to get you! I—I—” Janelle screamed.

I needed to get out there and disarm her before she killed somebody. Moving toward the window, I quietly stepped over the windowsill nodding to Trip as he swiftly made his way out the front door to get behind Janelle. Broken glass was sprayed everywhere from the impact of the bullet. She’d blown the entire window out.

Before I could make it to Janelle, a rush of color shot past me, and Janelle was on the ground with Scarlett on top of her.

“Scarlett, she’s still got the gun. Get down!” I yelled. My heart felt like it was in my throat. I’d never be able to deal if she was hurt. The burn in my shoulder had slowed to a deep throb. I moved forward to get the gun off Janelle, while Scarlett was beating into her, punching, ripping hair and screaming.

“You stupid, fucking cunt! You shot my man! You shot at me and Mace got hit! You wacked out junkie motherfucker!” Scar screamed with a punch to Janelle’s face. The gun waved around as Janelle fought back.

“He was mine! He was mine from the start, and you had to come round with your slutty tattoos and take him from me!” Janelle screeched through the punches that Scarlett rained down on her.

Scarlett reared her fist back and punched Janelle hard in the nose. Janelle released a high-pitched scream as blood sprayed from her face and she lost her grip on the gun. “He wasn’t yours. He’ll never be yours! You never fucking had him, you stupid brainless fuckwit!”

Reacting fast, I rushed in and pulled a cussing and thrashing Scarlett off Janelle who was still lying on the ground clutching her face, while Trip moved in and kicked the gun out of the way.

“You dumb twat! Who the hell do you think you are?” The voice belonged to a pissed Teeny who had ran outside and was advancing on Janelle. Before Trip could grab her, she’d kicked Janelle in the ribs. “You shot at my best fucking friend!” she yelled as Trip secured his arms around her torso and pulled her back, kicking and screaming.

I saw Scar shaking out her hand; she must have been in a bit of pain after going at Janelle so hard. She started inspecting her nails; an even angrier look appeared on her face.

“Bitch broke my motherfucking nail. Oh, screw that,” Scarlett murmured mostly to herself. All of a sudden, she stomped her foot down hard on mine and wriggled free of my arms. Red hot pain radiated through my shoulder as she tore off and started ripping at Janelle’s hair and throwing punches again.

Great! Now we had two crazy women re-enacting a scene from UFC-style wrestling, I thought as I sighed and made my way to pluck Scarlett off Janelle for the second time.

Just as I pulled her up, Scar was still screaming at Janelle and trying to get away as four police cruisers stopped on the street guns pulled, assessing the scene. I needed to settle Scar down before she got her ass tasered, and there was only one way to distract her. I spun her around in my arms, and slammed my mouth down on hers, taking her by surprise and kissing the ever loving shit out of her until her body went lax and she clung to my good shoulder. A growl tore up my throat as I kissed her hard and deep. I’d missed the taste of her, the feel of her body tight against mine. That sexy little mewl she made in the back of her throat. I really missed being inside her, and seeing her go into smack-down mode didn’t help my libido any. Scarlett only had to breathe for me to be turned on. Pulling back panting, I asked, “You calm now? She’s gone. They’ve cuffed her and put her in the car.”

“Mmm-hmm. You’re hurt. We need to get you looked at,” she shakily said, licking her red puffy lips, looking a little stunned. Scar turned in my arms to see the officers putting Janelle into the back seat of the cruiser. Turning her back to face me, I searched her face to assure myself she was okay. I saw the same concern shining through her eyes.

“I’m fine, babe. Just stings a little,” I told her, lying my ass off. I didn’t want her panicked. Apparently, I was worried for nothing because she held my face in her hands, stood on her tip toes and looked into my eyes.

“Mace if you don’t get in the back of that ambulance right now, I’m gonna have to punch you in the junk. And I really don’t wanna do that, baby; I’m kinda in love with your junk.”

With a snort, I asked, “Just my junk?”

Scarlet kissed me slowly before resting her forehead on mine, closing her eyes and letting out a deep breath. “I kinda might be in love with the rest of you too. Now, get the hell over it, and get in the ambulance before I hurt you.”

“Might be a good idea, dude. I saw the damage she did to crazy gun chick and it ain’t pretty,” a paramedic said in all seriousness behind me.

I nodded my head to him and turned back to Scar. “You done fighting it yet? I need you back, babe. I can keep going with the cheesy shit, ‘cause I know how much you like it, but I need you back.”

“You throw any more of your cheesy crap at me, and regardless of my affection for your junk, you’ll lose it.” She told me, a small smile playing on her lips, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. “Yeah, I give. You want all this crazy back, you can have it. Just no more sappy music or fluffy shit, and you ever put pink anything in my car again, you’ll be swimmin’ with the fishes.”

A huge smile took over my face as she pushed at my chest gently. “In the ambulance. Now Romeo.” She ushered me into the back of the waiting ambulance, stopping only to hug and kiss my family goodbye as they left. “I’ll meet you there. I need to check on Teeny before I leave,” she told me, bending down to meet my lips where I lay on the stretcher.

“Love you, Scar,” I whispered against her lips.

“Love you right back, Mace.” Her words lifted a heavy weight off my chest. Everything was going to be just fine, more than fine. I had Scarlett’s love. We might not be perfect, but it was the very thing I didn’t know I’d been searching for, the thing I needed to breathe again.

“Hold still a second, bud, just gonna give you something to take the edge off,” the paramedic told me as he hopped up in the back of the truck.

“Thank fuck! This shit hurts like a bitch,” I groaned once I saw Scar was out of earshot.

“My shoulder itches and I can’t reach it,” I grumbled, unsure if Scarlett even heard me from the kitchen.

“Stop sulking, pull up your big girl panties and suck it up. You can’t scratch at it anyways!” she yelled out.

“I’m not sulking,” I mumbled, tossing the TV remote onto the sofa I was sitting on. It’d been almost a week since I was released from hospital with a few stitches and a sling. Both of which were driving me crazy. The only good thing about it was having Scarlett take care of me. When she’d met me at the hospital, I’d been informed I was staying with her so she could look after my cute ass—her words not mine. Things had gone from good to great. Having Scarlett back was the best damn thing that came from that cluster-fuck of a situation.

She’d yet to let me touch her though. She claimed I’d hurt myself and pop my stitches. The only thing I was gonna pop was a ball; I was so wound up it was cruel. Watching her prance around the house in her tiny shorts or her lacy panties was a different kind of torture, a kind of torture I was almost certain she was pulling out on purpose. My dick was constantly hard, and I was pretty damn certain my balls were so blue they might fall off the next time she bent over in front of me. I’d promised her I’d behave myself but my self-control was wearing paper thin.

“Here you go, sweetums, eat up. I need you big, strong and healthy,” she said sweetly from behind me as a tiny pink plate was passed over my shoulder, with a small heart shaped sandwich in the middle surrounded by apples cut into flower shapes. This was the other form of torture; Scarlett was dishing back all the tacky-cheesy shit I’d laid on her while we were apart, and she was taking it to the extreme. I had my very own fluffy bathrobe and old man slippers with my name and little hearts sewn into them. It made me laugh though. Regardless of the fact she hated all the mushy crap, she was damn good at it.

“I have a busted shoulder, babe. I’m still big—whoa!” My rant died on my lips as she walked around the sofa.

“What, where, uhhh, I—is that? Are you?” All the blood rushed from my head directly to my crotch as I took in the sight of Scarlett sitting square in front of me on the edge of the coffee table wearing a very tight, very tiny, very revealing naughty nurse costume. The white material left very little to the imagination, her perfect boobs spilling out the top begging to be freed, licked, and tasted.

Sweet baby Jesus.

As my eyes roamed down her sexy body, I cleared my throat trying to get my voice to work. The only thing running though my head was how quickly I could rip that tiny red scrap of lace from between her legs. I needed to be inside her. Now.

Scarlett licked her full red lips and leaned down, running her hands slowly up the inside of her thighs, from her tiny feet, clad in bright red fuck me heels, up further until she reached the matching garter on her right leg. Flicking it as she ran her hand up higher, opening her thighs a little more, her fingers trailed up over her panties, the ring in her clit slightly visible through the lace. Jesus Mary and Joseph, please don’t let her be torturing me again. I don’t think I can handle it, I silently prayed.