Filthy Secrets: A Steamy Romance Boxset Collection

by Nova Rain

  I might have been grateful to her for giving Timmy and me shelter, but it was clear that my friend had forgotten some of the most important details of my story with Sean. I couldn’t blame her. She and I had been through a lot lately. Kate’s injuries had broken us up inside as well. We were still getting used to the idea that she could be gone forever. More than that, I had to find a way to live without the one man who had colorized my life. And this was what troubled me the most: getting back out into the world, knowing that finding another man like him was next to impossible.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Sean

  The next morning, I drove over to the hospital and asked for some time off. Focusing on my job after the current events would be a Herculean task for me. With my breakup and Davidsons threat in the back of my head, the odds of me killing someone were much too great. Thankfully, the hospital manager took some mercy on me, and signed a five-day leave of absence.

  Nevertheless, this meant that I would have to face these developments alone. Ryan was at work, but to me, this was way better than having him over. I could still remember his views on “street chicks” as he used to call women like Monica.

  “They don’t make good girlfriends.”

  “Have some fun with her for a week or two, and then ditch her.”

  If I knew him—which I did—he would rub this in my face. He would gloat about how well he knew women, blah, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada. Although I liked his company, there were times he could drive me crazy, and this was one of those times. Before I knew it, I would be yelling at him and telling him to shut his big mouth.

  There was just one person in New York who could help me feel better: Melissa. She was patient with me, and usually gave me good advice. So, I called her and asked her to drop by. Ever the caring sister, she agreed to visit me after her shift was over.

  A breeze of contentment blew through me when she rang my doorbell that afternoon. At last, I would have someone with whom to share my problems. And that someone would not offer me nasty comments about Monica, but proper advice, without insulting or calling anyone names. However, the person on my doorstep was not my sister. It was someone from my past, someone who had sunk into oblivion. She was five feet and two inches tall, with short, blonde hair, and a pair of brown eyes that were looking right back at me. It was none other than Patricia Hunt. In a split second, I felt the cold barrel of a gun, pressing up against my forehead.

  “Evening, Sean,” she smirked as slivers of fear sliced through me and I put my hands up. “It’s been a while.”

  “Patricia…” I whispered, stepping backwards. “What are you doing here?”

  “Where’s your little whore?” she ignored my question, craning her neck over my chest.

  “It’s just you and me in here,” I stated as fear sped up my voice. “What do you want?”

  “Liar!” she yelled, kicking the door shut behind her. “Don’t make me ask again.” She warned, cocking the gun.

  “I’m telling you, we’re all alone,” I repeated, hoping she would believe me. “See for yourself.”

  “Call her,” she commanded. “It’s time we finished this, once and for all.”

  I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes on her. “I don’t understand. Finish what?”

  “Did you think seeing you with her was easy for me? Did you?” she shouted, her eyes blazing with anger. “Imagine how I felt when you took her up to that mountain cabin. The same cabin you took me to.”

  “You followed us?” I uttered as my tone went wobbly.

  “Yes!” she admitted. “By the way, how’s her friend doing? Is she dead yet?”

  “You ran over Kate,” I concluded, waves of rage sweeping through me.

  “Well, I had to run over someone that afternoon.” The smirk came back on to her face. “And since your little bitch wouldn’t leave the sidewalk, I thought I would show her what I was capable of doing. Call her, Sean. Let’s see how much you really care about her.”

  “You fucking whore…” I growled, thrusting my arm down. A hard slap to her wrist loosened her grip around the handle of the gun. The weapon fell to the floor and bounced off the planks. Before she could do anything further though, a banging sound from outside pierced my ears. A bullet shattered the kitchen window to the left, tossing shards of glass into the sink. Patricia’s body swayed to the side, blood oozing out of a wound in her temple. She dropped to the floor with a thud as I discovered the identity of my savior. Melissa was staring at me, shoving her gun back into its holster.

  “Oh, my God…” I sighed, staggering forward. My sister barged in, and I was still struggling to find my footing.

  “Are you okay?” she gasped, throwing a quick glance down at the body.

  “I’m fine,” I assured her, pulling a chair out from the table.

  “Who the hell was that?!” Melissa couldn’t keep her voice down.

  “An old flame,” I spoke in a faint tone. “She’s the one who tried to kill Kate up in Shandaken. I guess she was trying to hurt Monica through her friend.”

  “I see.” My sister gave a nod of understanding. “I have to call this in. I hate to say this, but you’re in for a long night.”

  “Do it,” I huffed, resting my face in my hands. My heart thumping in my chest, I recalled the look of despair on Monica’s face, after I had told her the news about Kate’s condition. Ever since she had witnessed that horrific “accident,” she had been blaming herself. How wrong she was… It was my past that had sent Patricia up to the Catskills. Unless I could find a way to wake her up from the coma, I would carry this burden for the rest of my days.

  Chapter Thirty

  Sean

  Alas, my sister’s warning proved to be one-hundred percent accurate.

  As soon as we entered the police station, cops started asking me questions about my relationship with Patricia. I had to go three years back, to the day we first met, and narrate everything up until that night. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so embarrassed. I usually kept my private life to myself. The only other person, who knew pretty much every detail about my relationship with Patricia, was Ryan Bailey, because we shared the same workspace. It would be hard for him to miss our kisses in my office, and the numerous times we had had sex in the locker room. I would go out flushed, like I had been running on a treadmill for an hour. It took a lot less than Ryan’s wits to figure out what had been happening in there.

  After hours of questioning, we went home. It was well after midnight. Understanding that I was still shaken up, Melissa suggested she spend the night in my house. I welcomed her thoughtfulness and went straight to bed. It wasn’t a matter of fear. I knew the worst had passed. It would just be nice to see a familiar face the next day. Furthermore, I still hadn’t discussed my breakup with her, or my situation with Davidson.

  Her hurried footsteps on the floor woke me up in the morning. For some reason, Melissa stopped right outside my bedroom and slammed her hand into the door, bringing my slumber to a violent end.

  “Sean! Wake up! There’s someone here to see you.”

  “What?” I groaned in a hoarse voice, opening my eyes to slits.

  “Yeah; he looks like a big shot,” she commented. “There are three limos outside.”

  Her words and the urgency in her expression didn’t allow much room for doubt. I knew who this was, the moment she mentioned the limousines. I put on a pair of jeans and a white sweater, before going to the bathroom to splash some water onto my face. Davidson might have been the last person I wanted to see, but I wasn’t going to meet him in my pajamas.

  Walking out of my home, I recognized the limousine I had seen in Sands Point, parked between two Mercedes. I found four men in black suits on my lawn gathered around Davidson. One of them towered over all the others. Carl Bender, the guy who had threatened me recently, was facing me.

  “If you think you can intimidate me, guess again,” I addressed Davidson in a stiff tone, folding my arms across my chest. “How’s the j
aw, Bender?”

  “I’m not here to intimidate you,” Davidson claimed, his small figure emerging from behind one of his men. “Let’s skip the introductions. We know each other.”

  “Fine by me,” I shrugged, watching him get closer.

  “I’m here on behalf of my brother,” he began, a touch of sadness in his tone. “He passed on last night.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” I wondered, my tone steady.

  “It just does,” Davidson claimed. “I’m going to be honest with you, Granger. I had every intention of humiliating you and destroying your career as a doctor. As I’m sure you know I’ve got pictures of you and Monica in a hotel room. But…” he faltered, “my brother’s dying wish dictates otherwise.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, baffled by his candor.

  “My brother had a heart attack when he heard about Timmy’s kidnapping,” Davidson went on, his voice dropping an octave. “That’s what killed him. According to him, that was God’s just punishment for what we had done to Monica. His last words were—and I quote—‘Don’t punish that girl any further. She’s suffered enough.’ Personally, I disagree, but as I said, this was my brother’s last wish, and I’m going to respect it.”

  “What about Timmy?” I posed the question, unfurling my arms.

  “I like the kid, but I’m afraid I can’t do much for him,” he said, his tone gaining in strength. “I’m a busy man, doctor. I just don’t have the time to raise a child. I’ll transfer custody to Monica within the week.”

  “Thanks for letting me know, but she and I broke up, because she grew tired of living on the run,” I remarked. “I’m no longer part of the equation.”

  “Neither am I,” he stated, his tone stiff. “Neither will I be, to be exact. We’re getting a divorce. Granger…” He stopped talking altogether and inched closer. “Don’t think you’ve won. If it was up to me, you’d be applying for minimum wage jobs by the end of the month. You two caused one hell of a mess. Your antics have cost me a lot of money. I’m not publishing those photos, but if you ever, ever speak ill publically about me, rest assured: I will crush you like a goddamn bug. Am I making myself understood?”

  “I wasn’t going to bring this up, but there’s a rumor circulating about you frequenting a glass palace upstate,” I lowered my voice, gauging his reaction.

  “How much do you know about that?” He groaned, narrowing his eyes up at me.

  “Nothing,” I shook my head in refusal. “I’ve just heard that rumor. Don’t worry, Davidson. I don’t like to gossip, especially about people I don’t socialize with.”

  “Fair enough,” he nodded, attempting a businesslike tone. “I hope we’ve come to an understanding, doctor.”

  “So do I,” I told him as he pulled away from me.

  What a moron… It had been hours since his brother’s death. He should have been mourning him, and yet, he showed up at my house to flaunt his power. I was prepared to dismiss him without mentioning anything about his habits, but he had forced my hand. No one has the right to threaten or bully me, no matter what his status was. As for that glass palace: had I disclosed anything more about it, I would be in some serious trouble. I was positive that his goons would have torn my house down to find the evidence. For the moment, those photos had to remain a secret. Not for my sake; after all, I had nothing to gain; for Monica and Timmy’s sake, the two people who had suffered the most all these years. Davidson was a sniveling weasel. I didn’t—and couldn’t—know for sure whether he would honor his brother’s wish or not. If he dared change his mind about the boy’s custody, he and I would be at war once again.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sean

  Three weeks later, the grip of guilt was even tighter on me. Day and night, I could feel it trying to choke the life out of me. It was as if I a gigantic anaconda had coiled up around me, and was squeezing with each and every breath I took.

  In an attempt to escape from this invisible prison, I visited Kate almost every day. I also discussed her condition with Michael Pearce, her attending doctor. Alas, our briefings didn’t provide a shred of hope. She was stable, her vitals were good, but there were no signs of her waking up from that interminable sleep. Pearce was optimistic, and for good reason. Kate was very young. The chances of someone waking up from a coma were much greater in patients below forty years of age. Yet, that was just theoretical. Only time would tell if she would become part of that statistic or not.

  Those visits had a profound effect on me because of Monica’s presence in her friend’s room. More often than not, I would find her in there, having dozed off in a chair or wide awake. There were quite a few awkward moments between us. We would look at each other and stay silent for a couple of seconds, just in case one of us worked up the courage to speak. Afterwards, I would mention something ridiculous, like the weather. Sometimes, Monica checked the time on her phone and left, saying she had to pick up Timmy from school. It sounded like a legitimate excuse, but she used to give it to me at different times, such as 11:20 and 12:05. Unless she’d have to drive for more than an hour or even two, she was lying through her teeth. I didn’t complain, however. Neither did I accuse her of anything. Just like me, she wished to avoid this awkwardness. What I did want to do, was hug her, kiss her, and ask for a second chance. Nonetheless, a dreadful feeling held me back: fear. I was afraid that the moment I told her who was responsible for Kate’s misfortune, Monica would break up with me again.

  On a sunny, Friday morning, I followed my routine. I took the elevator to the third floor, and made my way to room 327. As usual, the hallways were bustling. Nurses were either striding past me, holding sheets of papers, and my fellow colleagues were talking to concerned patient relatives. I found Monica sitting in a white chair on Kate’s right, her friend’s IV bag hanging from the pole between them. I sauntered towards the bed, the beeping of the monitor the only sound in the room.

  “I can’t help but think this is hopeless,” Monica uttered, her voice thick with emotion.

  “As long as she’s alive, you can’t give up hope,” I pointed out, standing over Kate. “I’ve seen coma patients recover after years or even decades.”

  “I’ve read some of those stories,” she declared, her gaze shooting up to meet mine. “Speaking of which, I read a story about a shooting at your house. Who was that woman? I’ve been meaning to ask you about that, but I keep forgetting.”

  Damn it… I wasn’t ready to answer that. Monica had caught me off guard. Despite my surprise, I decided to be honest with her. After all, she deserved to know the truth.

  “Someone I dated about three years ago,” I announced, my fingers encircling her friend’s wrist. “She’s the one who ran over Kate.”

  Monica snorted in derision, averting her gaze from me. “Wow…”

  “I should have told you sooner,” I added, my eyes on Kate’s hand as I lifted it gently off the sheets. “This is all my fault.”

  “No, we’re both to blame,” Monica disagreed, her voice weakening. “Our past is to blame.”

  I was ready to continue our conversation, and offer her a longer apology. All the same, what happened next prevented me from opening my mouth. Kate’s pinky finger twitched for a fleeting moment. With a second twitch, her ring finger brushed across my knuckles. I shifted my gaze down to her eyes, my heart skipping a beat. Kate’s eyes flickered as I felt her soft touch on my hand.

  “Monica, go get her doctor,” I commanded, pulling my pen flashlight out of the front pocket of my lab coat. Jumping from her seat, she hurtled towards the door. I bent down over Kate, releasing her wrist. Gently easing her eyelid up, I pointed the beam in her eye. The instant dilation put a big smile on my face. At last, she was out of the in-between, and back into the world of the living.

  “Welcome back,” I whispered, caressing her forehead.

  “Dr. Granger!” I heard Pearce’s voice behind me, along with his frantic footsteps. “What happened?”

  “She’
s responsive,” I informed him, shoving the small flashlight back into my pocket. “Check it,” I urged, stepping aside. My colleague followed the exact same procedure, while Monica returned to the side of the bed.

  “Yes, she is.” Pearce agreed, shifting his gaze up to Monica’s. “Ms. Townsend, please, pay attention. Your friend is out of the coma, but her recovery is going to be a long, painstaking process. It could last weeks; months, even. It will take her body quite some time to regain its normal functions. You will have to be very patient with her.”

  “I understand,” Monica said, a huge grin bursting upon her lips. “Thank you, doctor.”

  “Have a nice day.” I spoke in a calm voice, moving away from Kate’s bed.

  “Sean, there’s something I need to tell you,” Monica’s request didn’t stop me. I could suspect what that something was, but I wasn’t interested in finding out. Our ordeal had taught me how dear Kate was to her. She needed privacy. She needed to celebrate this joyous moment with her beloved friend.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Monica

  “I knew you’d come back to me…” I whispered, bringing Kate’s hand to my face. I kissed her knuckles and put it back down on the bed. A mild twitching of her lips served as her reaction. It wasn’t much, but I would take it. Kate had been through hell and back. I couldn’t expect much from her.

  I expected more, however, from someone who was just feet away from us. I didn’t appreciate Sean’s behavior one bit. Where was the guy who loved to listen to me? Okay, we were not together anymore, but why didn’t he stick around? Was being in the same room with me too much for him?