Hangovers and Holidays (Untouchable Book 5) Read online

  Or at least I hadn’t been, right up until he told me that Mr. Wittaker was going to the police station immediately. While we waited for a doctor to look at me, Archie took my left hand in his and examined the knuckles. I was already in a stupid hospital gown. No one even batted an eyelash about the Scarecrow bringing Dorothy into the E.R.

  If anything, we were right at home with the other monsters, ghouls, and vampires. The guy who had to get a glass bottle removed from his rectum, however, was now permanently etched into my brain. Who did that?

  “I’m sorry,” Archie said quietly, and I frowned at him.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.” So much for a fight. “I know why you said we had to come here first.” But I didn’t think my ribs were cracked, even if my chest and back hurt. Archie said there were red scrapes along my back when he’d helped me out of the dress and into the gown. His voice had been clipped and angry.

  Probably because I’d just gotten rid of some of my bruises and now I had new ones. Yay.

  “Not for that,” he told me, almost patient as he gave me a long look. “I’m sorry that the party went to hell. We took you out to have fun.”

  “That wasn’t your fault either.” They weren’t responsible for Mitch.

  “Still…”

  “Archie, it wasn’t your fault, or Ian’s or Jake’s or Coop’s. We didn’t do anything wrong. They are the assholes.”

  “Well, on that we can agree.”

  My phone buzzed. Rachel had been texting us. She’d gotten to the police station and kept us up to date. She hadn’t been able to talk to the guys, but she could see them. So far, they weren’t in handcuffs and they were talking to different officers. A medic had also seen Ian. The picture she sent through didn’t make me feel better.

  Half of his face was bruises. It looked a thousand percent worse than when he and Jake had beaten the crap out of each other.

  I was sick to my stomach thinking about it. Coop had a few bruises, an ugly one on his jaw, and Jake’s hands were a wreck. He also looked pissed. I really didn’t envy anyone who had to talk to him. I just wish I was there.

  “Wittaker’s there,” Archie reminded me.

  “I know. I just wish the doctor would hurry up and tell me I’m fine so we can go be there for them.”

  Rubbing his thumb in gentle circles against the back of my hand, Archie said, “How are you feeling?”

  Bruised. Battered. Angry. Sick. “Fine,” I lied, and he gave me a look. “Well, if you’re not going to believe me, why ask?”

  He snorted, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Because it’s how I can measure how you feel. When you lie to me, I know you hurt but it’s not terrible. When you tell me you really feel bad, I definitely worry.”

  I didn’t laugh.

  Well, mostly.

  Archie slid an arm around me and pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m just glad you’re all right, babe. Glad we got there.”

  “Me, too.” For me. For Ian.

  For all of us.

  There wasn’t much more to say as we waited and got the blow by blows from Rachel.

  It took hours, but they finally discharged me with the advice to take my pain meds, because I was going to hurt more in the long run. It didn’t look like I’d done further damage to my wrist, but the doctor was worried about my shoulder and my hip. They’d taken the brunt of the fall, and he warned me that they were going to be stiff.

  He also wanted me to check in with my regular doctor. Yeah, I’d get right on that. The worst part of how long it took to get done at the E.R. was I had time to see Sharon and her parents. Sharon was furious and sobbing. She made up a bullshit story about how she got hurt, right up until she saw me. Archie pulled me away rather than say anything. I saw a couple of the other guys who’d been with Mitch, too. Thankfully, I didn’t see Mitch.

  Back in Jake’s car, I sank back against the seat and stared at the clock. It was the middle of the night. It wouldn’t be long before dawn. The guys were still at the police station. Coop had been ‘released’ thankfully. He hadn’t left, instead, he had joined Rachel in texting us updates. They were also sniping at each other over text while sitting next to each other.

  I rolled my eyes but let it go. I just wanted to know they were all okay.

  Archie diverted to grab fast food, including about four-dozen tacos and burritos—I forbid bean, because I was not having all four of them in my room after eating bean burritos. I adored them, but I’d known them too long. We were not having fart wars.

  Ever.

  Ugh.

  “You know, you used to be more fun,” Archie teased.

  “I also didn’t used to be your girlfriend.”

  “So, girlfriend means no more farting around you.”

  I snorted. “That would take a miracle. I’ll just be happy if you don’t bomb me out of my own bedroom.”

  He laughed his ass off, but the bean burritos were off the menu for the night. After he’d packed in all the food, along with some desserts and five drinks, we continued on to the police station. He also made me eat something in the parking lot before he’d let me get out of the car. The reason why became rapidly apparent when he nudged me to take a pain med.

  “I’ll wait.”

  I didn’t want to fall asleep on them, even if I moved with more stiffness after sitting in the car for so long.

  “Take a half.”

  “Oh my god, will you stop being so bossy!”

  “No,” he said flatly. “You got hurt. Again. You’re hurting now. I want to take care of you. You’re going to let me do it. If you don’t think all three of them wouldn’t agree with me…”

  I held up a hand. No, I would never dream of that. “A half.”

  He nodded and snapped one in half for me. I stuff down another taco, then took the half with a long drink of soda. Hopefully, the caffeine and sugar would help. As soon as I’d taken it, Archie turned all solicitous again, and I felt a little bit like an asshole.

  “Sorry I’m so grumpy.”

  “It’s okay,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to my cheek as we walked toward the building. “I know you love me.”

  I chuckled.

  “And I’m your favorite,” he added the last bit with a sly wink before pulling open the door.

  Coop was already on his feet, and he crushed me to him as soon as I got there. Half the paint on his face had been wiped away, but he looked rumpled, bruised, and angry. At least, he did until he cupped my face and searched my eyes. “You’re really okay?”

  “Promise, just bruises. I have to call the other doc, but that can wait. Archie just made me take a pain med, and there are tacos in the car.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “Ahem,” Archie said. “The tacos were my idea.”

  “Yeah, but Frankie is still the best.”

  “Agreed.”

  Rachel made a gagging noise, and I laughed at her. It hurt but it was funny. We all took a seat and kept waiting. I couldn’t see Ian or Jake, but Coop insisted Wittaker was in with them. Ian’s parents had arrived. I winced at that announcement. Jake’s mom was there, too.

  I really didn’t want this night to get any worse.

  I ended up walking back out to the car with Coop and Rachel so they could have some food. I split my soda with her because we hadn’t gotten her a drink. We sucked. She didn’t care. Coop suggested I go home, but I shot that shit right down, even when Rachel offered to drive me.

  Until Jake and Ian were out, I wasn’t going anywhere.

  It was almost six when Alicia emerged from the back with Jake. They both looked weary. Worse, Jake’s bruises had definitely mottled his face and his knuckles were raw. But the smile on his face chased my own exhaustion away. He scooped me up carefully for a hug, and Alicia gave me a tired smile.

  “I was going to ask if he wanted a ride home, but I’m guessing he’s heading to your place.” Guilt stabbed at me, but she just gave me a gentle hug, then studied me. “You
’re all right, yes?”

  “Just bruises,” I assured her, but Jake kept an arm around me, and I studied him. “Are you okay?”

  “Just bruises,” he told me with a wry smile. “Looks a lot worse than it is. Sorry you got dragged down here again, Mom.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m proud of you. All of you boys,” she added glancing past me to where Coop and Archie waited. “You did good. Just—let’s not make the police station a habit? We don’t need to host reunions here.” She gave Jake a hug, then me, whispering, “You should come over to dinner with the girls. Let’s make that happen.”

  I didn’t really know how to respond to that, so I just gave her a smile. After she left, Jake wrapped me in another hug, careful as hell. “You’re really okay?”

  “Tired,” I admitted. The half pill hadn’t knocked me out. If anything, it had just relaxed me. Archie kept shooting me looks, especially after Rachel commented it was probably because I was hurting a lot more than I was letting on.

  Yeah, didn’t need that added to the plate. She just smirked at me. Rachel was never going to change. She was blunt to the point of painful, but she was also still here, waiting for the guys to get out, and she hadn’t hesitated to jump into the fight. Though of all of us, she had zero bruises.

  And I was really glad about that.

  “Worried about you guys.”

  “No charges,” Jake told me. “They really just wanted to ask a lot of questions, and Wittaker sat in with me and made them wait to ask Bubba anything until he could sit there, too. Bubba’s parents are here.”

  “Are they pissed?”

  Jake gave a little shrug as he moved us back over to the chairs and settled with me between him and Coop. “They aren’t thrilled,” he said. “But I think they are more concerned than anything else. They wanted to know why Mitch was running around instead of sitting his ass in jail where he belongs. Which is a damn good question.”

  When that earned Archie’s and Coop’s equally vehement opinions, I tuned it out a little. Talbot had tried to explain it to me. I wanted to understand, but I didn’t. He’d attacked me twice now. Granted, he didn’t lay a finger on me this time, and I could at least remember all of it, but still… Did we have to wait until he did something even more horrible for them to do something about it?

  The cats were gonna kill me when we finally got home, whenever that was. At some point, Archie brought in the food and Jake ate his way through a half-dozen of the tacos, but we were still waiting. My eyes had begun to drift shut when the doors opened, allowing Mr. Wittaker, along with Ian and his parents out into the lobby.

  Ian looked like hell, but Mr. Wittaker looked pleased. We were all standing, and I made a beeline straight for Ian, hesitating only because of the bruises on his face and the fact that his parents were right there. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Angel,” Ian told me and held out an arm. I didn’t need any more encouragement, I wrapped myself around him carefully. “No charges,” he murmured. “Just a long night.”

  I damn near sagged with relief.

  “You okay?”

  “Just bruises.” It was becoming our motto, and he rubbed his uninjured cheek against my hair. “Tired, too.”

  “And we need to get her home,” Archie said. “I think we need to get everyone home.”

  Ian glanced at his parents, and I flushed when his mom eased over to give us both a hug. “You want to go with Frankie?” she asked, and I didn’t dare look at his dad.

  “Yeah,” Ian said. “Thanks for coming down.”

  “Of course,” she murmured, then swept her gaze over me. “If it’s too much, you two come back to the house and I’ll look after both of you, okay?”

  I was pretty sure my face was on fire, but Ian saved me by saying, “We got it, Mom. Thank you.”

  “Love you,” she said, and he answered her with another hug. Then Ian’s dad clasped his shoulder gently.

  “You kids take care,” he said. “Get some rest. We’ll get this all sorted.”

  The relief that he looked at us with kindness rather than reproach was profound. Thankfully, everyone started moving and we shuffled out of the building. It was like all the tiredness of the last twenty-four hours crashed in on me. Rachel gave me a quick hug in the parking lot and headed for her car as she waved off my thanks.

  Then we were climbing into Jake’s SUV. I sat in the back, sandwiched between Coop and Ian, while Archie took care of the driving. Jake didn’t even complain.

  I was half-asleep before we were even out of the parking lot, my head on Ian’s shoulder and my left hand clasped in Coop’s. They were all okay.

  Bruised. Battered. Tired.

  But okay.

  When Ian brushed his lips against my forehead, I smiled. “Don’t forget,” I reminded him sleepily. “Rules. I get to help make them, too.”

  “Yes, you do,” he said. “I promise. I didn’t forget.”

  There was a beat of quiet in the car, and then Coop said, “Yeah?”

  I couldn’t get my eyes open to see what he was talking about, but Ian said. “Yeah.”

  “Thank fuck,” Jake muttered from the front seat, and Archie chuckled.

  “What?” Ian asked.

  “You are now subject to the same boyfriend rules as the rest of us.”

  “What are the rules?” Coop asked, the tired in his voice dragging at me.

  “Well at the moment, it starts and ends with boyfriends don’t get bean burritos and we don’t get to have fart wars.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  Then all four of them cracked up.

  Asses.

  Each and every one.

  Chapter Three

  The Trick is to keep breathing

  Once we got back to my place, we stripped and showered—everyone one at a time except for me. Archie helped me because he was the least battered of all of us. His argument, not mine. His right hand was definitely bruised, and the knuckles had split in two places. He dismissed the concern, however, and the guys all sided with him.

  After, he insisted I take another pain pill, not a half this time, but a full. I didn’t even bother to argue against it. I was kind of hurting everywhere. Jake and Ian got the bed with me, and I wanted Coop to at least take the sofa, but he just gave me a smirk as he settled onto his pallet on the floor.

  “Bigger bed,” Archie told me. “That’s on the list this weekend.”

  I groaned but nodded. At this point, we needed to do a lot of things.

  Jake and Ian both had ice packs on, and I was torn between looking at one or the other. When Ian let out a little hiss as he laid down, I studied the bruises forming on his chest. More than one fist had struck him, and I was pretty sure there was a kick mark or two in there.

  “Stop worrying,” Ian insisted with a slow exhale. “Cracked ribs are not fun, but there’s nothing I can do for them.”

  I winced. “You’re sure they’re only cracked?” My irritated cats had all been fed, and they’d already settled in different spots around the room. I tried to roll onto my side. The stupid cast made that tricky. Jake caught my hip gently and turned me until my back pressed against his chest and I could face Ian more easily.

  “Mom checked, Angel,” Ian promised me, pressing a finger to my lips when I opened them to argue. “She checked. The medic checked. They’re cracked. They’re sore. I’ll live. I’d take every damn one again if it meant I got between those bastards and you.”

  My heart squeezed, then I slid my hand over his and kissed his fingers. He tangled our fingers together and smiled.

  “Now go to sleep. The bruises under your eyes have bruises.”

  “Are you saying I need my beauty sleep?” The tease came a little more easily, so many of the hastily erected stones in the wall between us crumbling away. Even if he’d been there, I’d missed this. The ease of talking to him, of playing, and not worrying if I was saying the wrong thing. Worse, if I was scared to say something because it still hu
rt.

  “Nah, you’re gorgeous,” he said, his one open eye twinkling. “Jake, on the other hand…” He just sighed.

  “Not enough sleep in the world to make him beautiful,” Coop said in a half-asleep voice. Jake shifted next to me and there was a thump. “Ow.” Coop deadpanned. Then chuckled. “My pillow now.”

  “Keep it,” Jake muttered and tucked his face against me. “I’m sharing Frankie’s.”

  I smiled, and Ian gave my fingers a squeeze, though his smile looked more like a grimace. His poor face. “Stop,” he whispered. “Go to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

  Even closing my eyes, I remained aware of them. Aware of Jake’s hand on my hip, the soft brush of his breathing evening out, the steady thump of Ian’s heart under my hand where he tucked my palm against his chest, the gentle snore from Archie, he’d dropped off so fast and likely deep, and Coop’s half-muttered groan that told me he was stretching before he settled into quiet.

  I was aware of all of them.

  No way I would go to sleep, despite how tired I was. I didn’t want to miss a moment of this. Miss them.

  It wasn’t until I opened gritty eyes hours later to a room dappled half in shadow because the blinds were still closed that I even realized I had gone to sleep.

  The room was quiet, I lay there for a moment, trying to get my bearings. I needed to pee in the worst way. Even my teeth ached. The bed behind me was empty. Jake had to have gotten up. Ian was still asleep in front of me. His poor face was really black and blue. Puffy and tender looking. It made my heart ache.

  I should get up and get him another ice pack. Maybe offer him one of my pain meds. He wasn’t sleeping facing me anymore, but lying on his back. I eased upward, trying not to jostle him.

  The pallets on the floor were both folded up, the blankets and pillows stacked in the corner. Even the cats were absent. I bit my lip as I glanced back down at Ian. It looked so much worse than it had the night before.

  Fuck Mitch and his friends.

  With care, I bent down and brushed my lips to his forehead. My bladder protested, and I forced myself to slide out of the bed. Oh, my back let me know it hated me. So did my hip. My shoulder apparently joined the Frankie sucks club, because it throbbed a little with each halting step I took. Fuck, I was walking like I was eighty not almost eighteen.