by Shayla Black
She blanched, not liking his nickname for her or his slick voice, but she had to play nice if she wanted him to cooperate. “I’m calling because the hospital supply company reached out to me. Apparently, they’ve been trying to collect my father’s bed—”
“Yeah. They aren’t getting in that unit until I say so.”
“Have you already rented it to someone else?”
“No.”
So he wanted something. Heavenly very much hoped it wasn’t what he’d wanted from her when she’d been unable to pay her rent. “All right. Then tell me why you won’t let the rental company in. I know I left quickly and I’m very sorry about everything that happened. But Universal Medical Supply had nothing to do with that and they just want—”
“Oh, I’ll let them in,” he assured. “As soon as you and I have worked out a few things. Face to face.”
She swallowed. “Worked out what?”
“I have a few questions… Won’t take long.”
Just like it hadn’t taken him long to rip off her shirt and tear into her bra the last time they’d been together.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she swallowed nervously. “I’d rather talk over the phone. If you need me to sign some end-of-lease documents or something, I’ve got a fax here.”
“Either you see me or that hospital bed rots where it is, cherry pie.”
Bile rose in her throat. If she took Beck or Seth with her to this meeting, what were the odds it ended without violence? Zero. After the beating they’d given the man, she’d be foolish not to think they wouldn’t try to kill him. Or that Mr. Sanchez wasn’t fishing for their identities so he could call the police.
She bit her lip. She had to come up with something—fast.
“Okay, I’ll meet you. There’s a coffeehouse…” She recited the address.
The only way she’d see him was in public.
“Fine.”
His easy agreement surprised her—and made her wary.
“I’ll see you there at five.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced. If she wasn’t home by five thirty, Seth in particular would worry. He would check the location of her phone. He was open about the fact he did that several times a day because her safety concerned him… If she met Sanchez, what would she do about that?
“I’m not fighting rush-hour traffic. You meet me now.”
“I’m working.”
“How bad you want that bed?”
She closed her eyes. “Fine. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Come prepared to…talk.”
Before she could inform him that their conversation would be upright and fully clothed, he hung up.
On trembling legs, she stood and gathered her things. The walk back to her unit felt like a death march. God, she had to be crazy to do this…but the man couldn’t attack her in public, right? Besides, she couldn’t call Beck now. He was in surgery. Seth was likely still asleep, and she had his car. So she’d just have to put on her big-girl panties, be tough, and deal with Sanchez. After all, that bed was her responsibility.
Heavenly was more than vaguely aware the guys would consider this somewhere between a lie and an evasion. But that didn’t change the fact Sanchez had her cornered.
When she reached the ER, she found it surprisingly calm. Jennifer was doing some charting and restocking, checking in on different bays. Heavenly managed to catch her in the hall.
“You’re back early,” the new nurse specialist remarked.
“I have a little situation, some stuff to sort out after my father’s death.”
“Oh, sure. Don’t worry about it. For once, I think we actually have more than enough staff to handle our caseload. Go do what you need to.”
On some level, she’d really been hoping Jennifer would pull a Kathryn and insist she stay. But the woman simply sent her a supportive smile.
“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Heavenly said before she headed back to her locker under the guise of collecting her things. She did…except she left her phone behind. Neither Beck nor Seth expected her to answer calls right away in the ER. Later, she could say she’d forgotten it or something.
The thought made her wince. She hated lying to them. She knew the potential consequences. In the back of her head, she heard Seth’s voice.
People can’t be in relationships with partners who aren’t honest. Without that, what do we really share? And why should we go on?
Nerves fluttering, she set her phone in her locker, swearing she’d never keep anything from them again. She’d apologize to Sanchez. She’d bow, scrape, and simper if she had to. Then, in thirty minutes, this crisis would be over and he would be nothing but a bad memory.
Heavenly tried to believe her own self-talk as she made her way to the coffeehouse around the corner. As soon as she entered, she thanked God Sanchez hadn’t arrived yet and that it was busy. Some work-from-home types were clustered around, sponging off the free Wi-Fi. Moms with small children were in line, ordering an afternoon pick-me-up. A cluster of college students looked like they were prepping for a presentation. And the handful of baristas looked exhausted now that the busiest part of their day was over.
Feeling more confident in the small crowd, she slid into a booth and waited, trying not to think about the next few minutes.
If she committed herself to Beck and Seth, what would life be like? She still wasn’t totally sure, but she loved where they were right now. Since they made her happy, wouldn’t her dad have been happy for her? Eventually. Probably. After all, he’d never seen for himself the way they loved and took care of her.
Could she see herself engaged to them, the way Raine was engaged to Liam and Hammer? Yes. That actually wasn’t tough to imagine. In fact, she liked it. The thought of being pregnant was scarier…but not, like, terrifying. Even when the guys had broached the subject of getting her on the pill, she’d had a mixed reaction. Relief, yeah. Kind of. But she’d also felt an inexplicable disappointment that made no sense.
“There’s my cherry pie.” Sanchez slid into the booth across from her, his face stretched into something that had once resembled a smile.
But he looked nothing like she remembered.
One eye was grotesquely swollen and engulfed in purple bruises. Two rows of stitches disrupted his eyebrow above. The mottled discolorations continued all the way down his cheek and toward his jaw, which had been wired shut. He wore a bandage over his nose. His lips were still split and scabbed over. Roughly half his teeth were missing.
She gasped and shrank back in her seat.
He grabbed her wrist. “You’re shocked by what your two ‘friends’ did to me?”
Honestly, yes. She’d seen them covered in blood that horrible night after they’d returned to her apartment and ordered her to pack up. She hadn’t wanted to think about how badly her landlord had been beaten; she’d been too grateful for the reprieve from paying her rent in his bed.
She tugged her hand back and tried to send him a sympathetic expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”
What else could she say? No way would she tell Sanchez anything about her relationship with Beck and Seth. She definitely couldn’t say anything that might give their identities away, especially if he was thinking about calling the police.
“Maybe you didn’t.” He nodded as if considering that possibility. “But it’s okay. I know who they are. Dr. Kenneth Beckman and Seth Cooper. Got to think a surgeon and a former cop don’t want to go to prison.”
Heavenly gaped as horror washed through her. In a sentence or two, Sanchez had stripped away all possibility that he merely wanted her humble apology. He was out for blood.
She folded her hands and tried to gather her thoughts. “You didn’t insist I meet you here for simple conversation. What do you want from me?”
His version of a laugh sent a shudder up his spine. “You promised me cherry pie…”
Maybe if she told him the truth, she would no longer be a
novelty and he’d lose interest in the conquest. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”
He managed to arrange his face in a scowl. “That just means I can be rougher when I fuck you.” He leaned forward. “And I’m going to because you’re going to let me.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not. Never.”
“So you don’t care if they go to prison for you?”
Of course she did, and he knew it. “I can pay you last month’s rent now.”
She’d come clean with Beck and Seth if she had to, beg them to help her make this go away. Anything was better than them suffering the consequences for simply protecting her.
“I don’t want your money. I want your pussy. You’re not worming out of what you owe me. Since your ‘friends’ messed up my face, I’m not getting any action and I’m horny as fuck. So we’re going to stand up, and you’re going to walk out the door with me. I’m going to take you home, cut those scrubs off your tight body, and tie you to my bed. Then I’m going to drive my fat cock in and out of your tiny pussy so many times you’ll beg me to stop. But I won’t. I’ll just keep fucking you and fucking you until you’re all cried out. While I’m doing that, I’m going to take pictures, puta, and send them to the motherfuckers who did this to me.” He gave her a cold smile. “Since I’ll bet they’re the ones who stole my cherry pie, I’ll make sure they know it’s not theirs anymore.”
“Oh, god…” Heavenly’s voice trembled with fear.
If she followed Sanchez, he’d make good on that threat, and Beck and Seth would come to her rescue. She didn’t kid herself. This time the clash would end with someone in a body bag. Heaven forbid, it might be the guys. She’d seen Sanchez cleaning his collection of guns when she’d lived there…
This situation had gone from bad to worse. She pressed a shaking hand to her mouth and tried to breathe through her panic.
Somehow, she had to get out of here, hope that if Sanchez called the police it would be his word against theirs, that there would be no evidence to convict Beck and Seth. Then if she could make the hospital bed situation go away, her odious ex-landlord would have nothing to hold over her head.
How had a day that started with such promise spiraled down so fast?
“Order up for Taylor,” a barista called out.
From the corner of her eye, Heavenly watched a smartly dressed professional in a pencil skirt rise from a nearby table and hurry to the counter. As the woman grabbed her coffee and headed toward the door, Heavenly focused on the huge, steaming cup in her hand.
Heart chugging, she bolted from the booth and pried the paper mug from the other woman’s grip. Sanchez was a mere half step behind her; she felt him closing in.
Despite her trembling fingers, she pried the lid off, then turned and tossed the blistering-hot java in Sanchez’s face. His blood-curdling yell filled the room. People turned. Someone near her gasped. Heavenly didn’t stay around to hear or answer the questions the other patrons started to utter. She shoved her way out the door, racing away from the coffeehouse and down the street as fast as she possibly could.
By the time she reached the hospital, her lungs burned. Her head spun.
Dear god, how was she going to get out of this situation?
She dashed into the ER, headed for her locker, and plucked up the phone, tossing it into her purse. Her hands shook so badly she could hardly retrieve her keys. She wasn’t in any shape to drive, but she needed to get back to Beck’s place and figure out what to do. There must be some solution that didn’t end with the men she loved either in jail or in a grave.
The car ride was a blur. Thankfully, the traffic was lighter than this morning. Still, when she reached Beck’s neighborhood, she found herself racing toward the house, as if somehow being inside the four walls she occupied with him and Seth could keep her safe. She turned onto his street, so grateful the house was almost in sight, and cut the corner too short, almost hitting a mom in a minivan.
With a wave of apology, she finished her turn and set her sights on Beck’s place at the end of the street. She stopped short of gunning the SUV toward it when she saw Seth stepping over the curb and into River’s truck.
Gnawing on a ragged nail, she waited anxiously until the vehicle pulled away. Heavenly knew she should be relieved he was gone. Now she had time to think. Part of her would far rather have thrown herself into his big, protective arms, told him everything, and begged for help.
But they’d been saving her for weeks now. She needed to save them for once.
When she saw them stop at the sign, then turn onto another road, Heavenly jerked the SUV into the driveway and came to a shuddering stop in the garage. Absently, she grabbed her purse before she burst into the house and slammed the door behind her.
Now what? She didn’t have long to solve this problem. She tossed down her purse, worried her locket on its chain around her neck, and began to pace a long path between the front and back door.
Going to Sanchez’s alone wasn’t an option. Calling Raine wasn’t, either. Besides not wanting to drag her pregnant friend into danger, the bubbly brunette no longer kept secrets from her men. The minute Hammer and Liam knew her situation, they’d make sure Beck and Seth knew, too.
What about River? When she’d asked him to take her virginity, he hadn’t told anyone…but he also hadn’t cooperated. Besides, now that River worked for Seth, he would likely be loyal to his new boss. She had to scratch him off her list, too.
Who else did she know? Dean Gorman? She’d spoken with the police officer in passing a few times. But she couldn’t very well ask a cop to break into an apartment she had no legal right to occupy. Plus, according to Raine, he and River trolled clubs and bars together, serving as one another’s wingmen. What were the odds he wouldn’t tell River…who would then tell either his sister or her two men, who would undoubtedly inform Beck and Seth?
She had to keep thinking. Ralph Johnson was a vet who had been kind enough to occasionally sit with her father during her volunteer shifts at the hospital. But he was easily sixty-five and not in fantastic health. Asking an elderly man who’d already had a stroke to break the law for her seemed…well, criminal.
Pete, her assistant manager at Bazookas, wasn’t above a little crime. According to him, he’d done some time in juvie. But that was at least ten years ago. He seemed on the straight and narrow now. Not to mention the fact he wasn’t speaking to her. And that horribly degrading “breastaurant,” as Seth had called it, was the last place she ever wanted to step foot inside again. And what would he want in return for a favor?
She didn’t dare tell anyone at the hospital. It would get back to Beck. And who else did she really know? The few people she’d met in LA had all been at her father’s funeral—and she’d already dismissed each one.
Except Pike.
I know you think I’m an asshole, but…um, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. If you need anything, I’ll be around.
Heavenly stopped pacing. Pike might be perfect. He looked capable of a little crime. He worked with or for Hammer at his dungeon—she was still fuzzy on the details—but he didn’t seem like anyone’s man except his own. She didn’t know what had transpired between him and Seth after his crude come-on at Hammer’s birthday party a few months back, but he’d given her PI a wide berth since. It seemed there was no love lost between them.
But she didn’t have Pike’s number. Nor did she have any idea where he lived. And if she asked how to find him, everyone would want to know why. Despite her recent practice, she really wasn’t a good liar.
Now what?
Wait. She did have his address. He’d written it in the guest book at Dad’s funeral so she could send everyone thank-you notes for the flowers and donations to Guillain-Barré Syndrome Foundation International. Where would Beck have stashed that after the funeral?
She ran upstairs, prowling from room to room, and found everything related to her father’s service in his home office. Though her father’s picture, his memorial progr
am, and the collection of cards nearly felled her, she didn’t have time to be teary or sentimental. She forced herself to scour the box. At the bottom, she found the guest book. Since so few had attended the funeral, it didn’t take her long to find the right entry.
C. A. Pike, it read. Vaguely, she wondered what his initials stood for as she inputted his address into her phone. The GPS told her it would only take her seven minutes to travel the two point two miles.
She dashed back down the stairs, scooped up her purse—then realized she couldn’t take her cell. Seth would find her and all her effort to save him and Beck would be for nothing.
Since she didn’t have time for panic, she did her best to memorize the directions, then closed the app, darkened her phone, and left it on the island. Hopefully, she’d be successful and return here before either of the men came back.
Heavenly couldn’t let herself think about the alternative.
Filled with disquiet, Heavenly drove the winding streets of the upscale Beverly Hills neighborhood, past the multimillion-dollar homes of LA’s uber-rich. When she spotted her destination on the right, Heavenly craned her neck for a glimpse. From afar, the house looked lovely, with an old-Hollywood sort of charm.
Was it possible the brooding tattooed bad boy actually lived here or had he just jotted a random address in her guest book at Dad’s service?
She didn’t have time for a wild goose chase. Worry twisted her stomach.
Slowly, she pulled into the driveway of a classic two-story Spanish Colonial and cut the engine. The palatial house looked strangely homey. Verdant Virginia creeper climbed the cream-colored stucco exterior. A variety of lush palmlike bushes bursting from massive terra-cotta planters filled a red-brick patio and lent the place a botanical feel. Beyond that, a T-shaped brick path led to a dark, narrow door.
Heart pounding, mouth dry, Heavenly gathered her purse and her courage, then started up the walkway. The closer she came, the more she worried a decrepit butler would answer, peer down his nose at her with a disdainful sniff, and announce that no one named Pike lived here before slamming the door in her face.
