Page 10 of Rome (Marked Men 3)

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I didn’t recognize the number on the display, so I answered it a tad more professionally than I normally did.

“Thanks for calling the Marked, this is Cora. What can I do for you?”

A long pause followed and I heard noise and commotion in the background. I was going to say hello again and then hang up if there was no answer when a gruff voice came across the line.

“I’m looking for Rome Archer’s brother.”

A shiver of apprehension slid up my spine. “Why?”

Again I was met with silence that dragged on.

“Do I have the wrong number?” This guy sounded frustrated and like he meant business.

“Rule is Rome’s brother but he isn’t here right now. Can I take a message?”

There was a sigh. “I hate these new cell phones, I can’t ever figure out how they work. Is there another number where I can reach him?”

I wasn’t in the habit of handing the guys’ numbers out to anyone. If I did that I would have a line of desperate girls stretching from here to Coors Field.

“Can you tell me what it’s regarding? I’m friends with both of them.” It was stretching the truth a little but I didn’t feel too bad about it.

“The big guy is having a pretty bad day. He needs a ride home and I thought his brother would be the best candidate for that particular job today.”

I frowned and tapped my fingernails on the counter. “It’s only eight o’clock.”

The guy laughed. “Darlin’, I don’t think you can really understand just how bad a day it was. I can put him in a cab, but I can’t take him myself because it’s tournament night and the Bar is packed. But I need to see that he gets home safe and sound.”

I puffed out a breath that sent wispy strands of short hair floating over my forehead. Rule would go get him if I called him, so would Nash, but there was already enough tension between those guys that I figured I would just take care of it myself and save everyone a headache.

“I’ll come get him and see that he gets home in one piece.”

“Ahh … no offense, darlin’, but that is whole lot of unwieldy soldier in a piss-poor mood and three sheets to the wind. You might wanna let the brother handle this one.”

I wasn’t a girl who backed down from a challenge, and Rome Archer drunk and grumpy seemed to be his default anyway. I wasn’t scared of him. Plus it always galled me being told I couldn’t do something just because I was a girl.

“I have to do a bank drop and I’ll come get him. Where is he at?”

The gruff voice gave me directions to a bar located off the beaten path down on Broadway. He once again mentioned I might need physical help trying to maneuver all the intoxicated bulk that was Rome out of the bar. I shook my head in disgust and told him I was just going to have to figure out how to fit the giant into my Mini Cooper. The guy laughed so hard that I thought he was going to hurt himself. When he finally stopped he told me that he had long since hijacked Rome’s keys and he would just help me pour him into his own truck. After I got him home I could come back for the Cooper. It sounded like the best plan, even though I would have loved to have a picture of all that brawn crammed in my little car. It would have been hilarious.

In the time it took me to do the deposit for the shop, find the bar, find a place to park, and find the front door since there wasn’t any kind of sign, or door guy, or any indication of where I was going, Rome’s condition had apparently gone from bad to worse. He was actually slumped on the bar, his head hung low like his neck couldn’t hold it up anymore, and the dim light was casting dark shadows on his face. He looked terrible and tired, and most definitely wasted. His pretty eyes were open only half-mast, watery and bloodshot. His mouth was twisted in an ugly frown and even though the air-conditioning was on, I could see a thin film of sweat covering his skin. His big, battle-scarred hands were shaking where he was holding an empty tumbler between them, and it looked like he was having an argument with the huge bearded man behind the bar.

I carefully walked up behind him and caught the eye of the guy who looked like he had given birth to every Hells Angel ever to walk the earth.

“Hi, I’m Cora.”

The guy gave me a quick once-over and lifted an unruly eyebrow. “Tiny little thing, aren’t ya?”

I was actually two inches taller than Shaw, but since I didn’t have half of her curves, I think I looked a lot smaller and more delicate than I actually was. I lifted a shoulder and let it fall.

Rome turned on the stool and I saw his eyes widen and then try and focus on me. I wasn’t sure he recognized me at first, but then the blue lit up like the base of a flame and a drunken and sloppy grin spilled across his face. I tried to keep my eyes focused on the scar on his forehead, because he was lethal when he smiled like that and I knew he wasn’t in his right mind at the moment. That slight imperfection made me remember exactly who I was dealing with, Captain No-Fun, not flirty-fun-drunk Rome.

“Rule had an emergency at the house, so I’m gonna take you home, okay?”

“Where’s Rule?”

At least I think that’s what he asked, but it sounded like his tongue was too big for his mouth. I put a hand on his arm as he leaned toward me and almost toppled off the stool.

“He had something to take care of. So you’re stuck with me.”

He lumbered to his feet and I thought I was going to get dragged down with him. Luckily he seemed to have pretty good balance even when he was hammered because he caught himself on the bar and blinked those killer baby blues at me.

“I’m so tired.”

I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure what he was talking about and peered around him at the burly bartender who was watching us with serious, dark eyes.

“I know. I’m gonna get you home and put you to bed.” Man, that shouldn’t sound nearly as appealing as it did. I needed to stay away from this guy. He made my head go wonky.

“You need a hand getting him to the truck?”

I shook my head and hooked a hand around his lean waist and tried not to wince as he leaned all that considerable weight onto my side.

“If I can’t get him in on my own, there is no way I’m getting him out on my own.” I took the keys he brought me and gave Rome a little nudge with my hip. “Let’s go, Goliath.”

“If he’s functional tomorrow, let him know he has the day off.”

“What happened to get him in this state?”

The guy shook his head and stroked a hand over what was seriously the most awesome beard I had ever seen.

“Life happened, darlin’. Sometimes it just gets the better of us is all. Take care of that boy, he needs someone, too, especially right now.”

I was going to answer that I took care of all my boys, but I never got the chance because Rome chose that moment to lurch toward the door. He put a thick arm around my shoulders, pulled me so that I was pressed flat against his chest, and buried his nose in the short hair on the top of my head. He awkwardly marched me backward while he struggled to stay upright and headed for the parking lot.

“You smell good.”

Typically when I got off work I smelled like antiseptic and all the cleaners used to keep the shop sterile and safe. I had to wiggle free enough to breathe, but since Rome was going in the right direction and seemed steady enough on his feet, I didn’t make him let me go. I tried to subtly steer him toward the shiny red Dodge that the bartender had indicated was his, but he suddenly stopped and stared intently down at me.

“You really do have the prettiest eyes.”

I cleared my throat and tried not to blush since I had never really been the blushing type.

“So you’ve mentioned.”

His words were still hard to understand, but the way the blue in his eyes was glowing wasn’t. I was hardheaded to a fault, but I wasn’t going to deny I thought he was hot, I mean I was only human and there was something about all that plain, old-fashioned beefcake that was hard to ignore. But I was surprised that he seemed to return the sentiment. I didn’t for one second think I was any more his type than he was mine.

We stumbled, half stepped, and shuffled to the truck. It took some maneuvering and some wiggling on my part to get him to let me go and get him to climb up into the monstrous vehicle. I closed the door on him as he was humming an awful rendition of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” and closed my eyes for a second. I had plenty of experience dealing with moody, drunken boys—Rule was a pro at being a handful after too many cocktails—but there was something about the abject sadness, the visible sorrow hanging around in those azure eyes that made Rome just a little trickier to handle. I had an inkling that he could go from malleable and sloppy to really difficult in a heartbeat.

The truck was big and I had to slide the seat up as close to the steering wheel as it would go. I was lucky it was a newer model, because there was no way I would have been able to reach the pedals if had been one of the old-style bench seats. It was also an automatic, which was nice since I hadn’t had to drive a stick in forever.

I glanced over at my passenger and found him slumped over so that his head was resting on the window. His eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm. I was going to take him to the Victorian and have Nash help me wrestle him inside, when his voice cracked out from someplace so deep and dark it gave me goose bumps when it whispered across my skin.

“Do you ever wonder ‘why you’?”

I frowned at him and shot Nash a text to see if he was home.

“Why me what?” I didn’t understand what he was rambling about and his eyes were still closed, so I wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t talking in his sleep.

“Why am I the one still here? Why was I the only one to walk away? Why did I dodge one bullet only to end up useless and unnecessary anymore? Whose plan was that? Why was I someone Remy couldn’t tell? Why didn’t he trust me? Why? Shouldn’t there be a point to it all?”

It was incoherent for the most part but the sentiment behind it was heartbreaking and shouldn’t be coming from someone so vital and thrumming with life. I didn’t really have a working understanding of how survivor’s guilt affected a man that had seen so much, but in Rome’s case it seemed to be eating him alive.

“That is probably a conversation you should have with a professional and maybe not when you tried to drink your liver into submission.”

“People die every day that shouldn’t die. It isn’t fair and it isn’t right. There should be some kind of rhyme or reason to it.” But there wasn’t, and when he was sober he had to know that, didn’t he?

My phone dinged at me and I had to wait until I stopped at a stop sign to check the message. I swore softly because Nash wasn’t home and had no plans on returning. I didn’t want to bug Rule, not to mention he wasn’t the most sensitive of guys and there was no way Rome was in any state to be left to his own devices. I was just gonna have to take him to my house and put him on the couch until he sobered up. Jet was on the road and Ayden was working late, so that meant I was only going to have to deal with a million questions and speculative looks from Asa.

“A lot of bad things happen every day that shouldn’t happen. Unfortunately it’s part of life.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

I looked back over at him and noticed those bright eyes were wide open and focused on my face. It was unnerving to be the target of such intense scrutiny.

“Maybe not. Hey, I’m just gonna take you to my place for a minute. I’ll let you catch a quick nap and put some food in you and you can run me back to my car when you’re back at full operating power. Okay?”

His eyes slid back shut and his broad shoulders rose and fell like he couldn’t care less. I hated to admit that I was worried about him, but whatever blanket of despair he had wrapped himself up in, it was thick and it was fibrous and I could almost feel the weight of it suffocating him.


Tags: Jay Crownover Marked Men Romance