The Marked Men Series Books 1–6: Rule, Jet, Rome, Nash, Rowdy, Asa. Jay Crownover

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The Marked Men Series Books 1–6: Rule, Jet, Rome, Nash, Rowdy, Asa - Jay  Crownover


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was unconscious after the Hummer flipped. We drove over an IED and it was bad. I was in the hospital for a week with a scrambled noggin, and when I woke up they had to do surgery on my shoulder so I was all drugged up. I called Mom and figured she would let you know what the deal was, but I heard that, as usual, you were unavailable when she called.”

      I shrugged a shoulder and reached out a hand to steady him as he faltered a little on the stairs to the front door. “I was busy.”

      “You’re stubborn.”

      “Not too stubborn. I’m here aren’t I? I didn’t even know you were home until this morning.”

      “The only reason you’re here is because that little girl in there is bound and determined to keep this family together regardless if we’re her own or not. You go in there and play nice; otherwise, I’ll kick your ass, broken arm and all.”

      I muttered a few choice words and followed my battered sibling into the house. Sundays really were my least favorite day.

      CHAPTER 2

       Shaw

      I closed the bathroom door with a soft click and turned the lock. I collapsed against the sink and ran shaking hands over my face. It was getting harder and harder to be Rule’s chaperone to these family gatherings every Sunday. I already felt like I was getting an ulcer, and if I had to walk in on him and one of his disgusting bar bimbos again, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it out of his apartment without committing homicide.

      I turned around to splash some cold water on my face and lifted the heavy fall of blond hair off my neck. I needed to get it together because the last thing I wanted was for Margot or Dale—or Rome for that matter—to notice that something was off. Rome was one of the most observant people I had ever met and I had a feeling that even drugged up and in pain he wouldn’t miss a thing when it came to his younger brother and sister, since by association I had technically been lumped into the category of surrogate little sister.

      It was getting harder and harder to spend time around Rule and not just because looking at him reminded me of everything that I no longer had—which was the problem Margot and Dale struggled with, not that the insensitive ass had any empathy for his parents. My struggle was that Rule was complicated; he was brash, mouthy, careless, thoughtless, often cranky, and generally an insufferable pain in the ass. But when he chose to be, he was charming and funny, artistically brilliant, and more often than not, the most interesting person in the room. I have been head over heels in love with both sides of him since I was fourteen years old. Of course I loved Remy, loved him like a brother, like the best friend and consummate protector he had been, but I loved Rule like it was my mission in life. I loved him like it was inevitable, like no matter how many times I was shown what an awful idea it was, what a bad match we were, what a callous asshole he could be, I couldn’t shake it. So each and every time I had to have the fact that he didn’t even think of me as more than a carpool driver shoved in my face it tore a little bit more of my battered heart apart.

      Because my own family was such a mess, there was no way I would be half the person I was today without everything the Archers had done for me. Remy had taken me under his wing when I was a friendless and lonely teen. Rome had threatened to beat up the first boy who made me cry because I liked him and he didn’t like me back. Margot had taken me shopping for homecoming and prom dresses when my own mother was too busy with her new husband to care. Dale had taken me to the University of Denver and the University of Colorado–Boulder and helped whittle down the choices logically and rationally when it came to picking a college. And Rule, well, Rule was a constant reminder that money didn’t get you everything you wanted and that no matter how perfect I tried to be, how hard I worked at being everything to everyone, it still wasn’t enough.

      I blew out a breath that I felt like I had been holding for more than an hour and took a piece of Kleenex to wipe away the black smudges from under my eyes. If I didn’t get down to the dining room fast Margot was bound to come looking for me and I didn’t have a reasonable excuse as to why I was currently freaking out in the bathroom. I fished a hair tie out of my pocket and pulled my hair into a low ponytail, slicked on a sheer coat of gloss, and gave myself a silent pep talk, reminding myself that I had done this a million other Sundays and that this one was no different.

      Just as I was stepping into the hall my phone rang and I had to struggle to hold back a groan when I saw that it was Gabe calling again. I sent the call to voice mail and wondered for the hundredth time in the last month why I had ever wasted a second of my time on his pompous ass. He was overly entitled, overly grabby, overly superficial, and more interested in my last name and the fact that my parents were loaded than he was in me.

      I wasn’t even interested in dating him—wasn’t interested in dating anyone—but my parents had forced my hand. As usual, under their pressure, I folded and ended up spending more time with him than I wanted to. I had managed to tolerate him for a lot longer than I thought I would be able to. After all, Gabe was way more interested in himself than in me. It wasn’t until he had started pushing for sex—making me uncomfortable by grabbing and touching things I didn’t want his hands anywhere near—that I cut the cord. Unfortunately, neither he nor my parents seem to have gotten the message and I have been inundated with calls, texts, and emails for the last two weeks. Gabe was easy enough to dodge; my mother not so much.

      I was shoving the phone into my back pocket when a quiet voice stopped me. “What’s going on with you, little girl? I’ve been gone for over eighteen months and all I get is a hug and a peck on the cheek before you disappear? Where are the tears? Where’s the hysterics that I’m home safe and sound? What’s working in that complicated brain of yours? Because I can tell something is on your mind.”

      I hiccupped a little laugh and let my forehead fall onto the strong chest in front of me. Even battered and bruised Rome was the kind of guy who stood between the people he loved and anything that might possibly hurt them. He patted the top of my head and laid a heavy hand on the back of my neck. “I missed your pretty face, Shaw; you don’t know how good it is to be home.”

      I shuddered a little and wrapped a careful arm around his waist so that I could give him a squeeze and not hurt him. “I missed you, too, Rome. I’m just stressed out. School is crazy right now, I’m working three or four nights a week, and my parents won’t get off my back about this guy I just broke up with. You know I love it when we’re all together. I thought your mom was going to have a heart attack when she called to tell me what happened to you. I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t think this family would be able to handle losing another Archer son.”

      “No, probably not. I can’t believe she still has you playing chauffeur for my idiot brother.”

      I hooked my arm through his and we started to make our way to the dining room. “It’s the only way he’ll come. If I have to miss it because of school or because something comes up he just blows them off. Half the time when I get to the apartment he doesn’t even know what day it is and has to scramble to get out the door. Today would be a prime example of that. If I show up he feels obligated to come with me no matter what or who he’s in the middle of doing.”

      Rome swore under his breath. “It wouldn’t kill that kid to play nice with Mom and Dad once a week. He shouldn’t need you to be his babysitter.”

      I shrugged my shoulders because we both knew that all the Archer brothers had a role. Remy had been the good son, the straight-A student, the future Ivy Leaguer. He was also the one saddled with the role of keeping Rule out of jail and running interference when his twin got into trouble that he couldn’t talk his way out of. Rule was the wild card, the one who lived life to the fullest and made no apologies to those he might offend or hurt along the way. Rome was the boss and the twins adored him and followed his lead through good and bad, because lord knew with the way the three of them looked, there was lots and lots of bad thrown their way. With Remy gone it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Rome had become even more protective of his remaining brother and that I had fallen seamlessly into the role of trying


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