by Lora Ann
A nurse rushed in to hear the sickening crack of a head hitting the unforgiving floor. Blood was pooling as she called for help. She didn’t know the soldier lying there, but the anguish on his face tore at her heart. She found herself silently praying, God, please help him. The room filled as a doctor knelt, checking the wound. “Call surgery,” he clipped. “We don’t have much time.”
Lisa paced outside as Tar underwent a very delicate surgery. Her angst not over the man lying in there fighting for his life, but herself. What would she do if he remembered everything? Worse, what if he never remembered anyone? Oh no, what would it mean for her if he was physically incapable of doing anything again? Or, mentally gone forever? Though, she had to admit, the latter would be her best-case scenario. So self-absorbed, she missed her son tugging on her arm.
Cole tried once more, “Mommy!” but she wasn’t answering him. His eyes glued to the brightly lit man fighting with the dark shadow. The battle fierce, swords clanging loud enough he had to cover his tiny ears. He gasped when the man in light fell, clutching his stomach. The little boy ran to help as the sword came down behind him. A whoosh of energy took Cole down as he watched in part awe, part horror. Another lighted man held a shield over his head. His little hands searching for a cut that should’ve been across the back of his neck. The warriors continued to fight as another shadow joined in.
Cole crawled over to the wounded knight, wanting desperately to help him. Eyes a brilliant icy blue met his as a low whisper echoed, “Trust. Believe.” Then the warrior was gone.
He blinked, hard, noticing one of the dark shadows creeping past the door, and screamed as loud as he could, “STOOOOOOOP!”
Lisa slapped her hand over his mouth and hissed, “Shut up! This is a hospital.”
He fought against his mom’s hold, noticing a man in black with a white collar walking toward them. The priest stopped and held the child’s intense, pleading gaze with his. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
She schooled her features before turning on the concerned mother voice. “I don’t know what got into him.”
“This place brings out all kinds of monsters in a child’s imagination,” he assured.
Cole locked his stare on the priest’s and replied, “They are real.”
He angled a look toward the mother realizing that she truly was clueless to what her son was claiming. But he knew the boy had seen something. He nodded. “Sometimes, yes, they are.” He patted Cole’s head. “Is there someone close to you in surgery?”
He leapt at the man of God and begged, “You have to save my uncle! They’re going to hurt him.”
“Cole!” Lisa admonished, pulling her son away from the priest. “I’m so sorry.”
He squatted down to the child’s eye level. “What did you see?”
“Warriors,” Cole confirmed. “Dark shadows and bright lights. Swords, shields. A fight!” he gushed out rapidly before his mother shushed him again.
“I see.” His gaze raised to the boy’s mother. “You may want to take him outside for a little while.”
But Cole began to scream, “NO! You must protect him.”
The priest nodded and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Go outside for a just a few minutes. Please.”
He searched the man’s face before agreeing and called over his shoulder, “You know what you’re supposed to do, Kian.”
“You let the child see,” he whispered in awe, straightened, dropping the façade of the human form he’d taken on, and marched through the doors.
A war was definitely raging over a man called Tarius.
Lisa scolded Cole, “What were you thinking? You don’t act that way. Ever!”
“I’m sorry, Mommy. You’re wrong.”
“What did you just say?” She shook with the need to smack his mouth.
His chin raised in rebellion. “You don’t really care about Uncle Tar. Or Daddy.”
Fingers clutched in a fist. “That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. You hurt them,” he accused.
She grabbed his arm too hard. His yelp of pain caused several to stop and look. Lisa released her son and rubbed her palms on her skirt. Under her breath, she whispered, “You can’t prove a thing.”
Sad eyes looked up. Despite her behavior, he loved his mom. He reached for her hand as she yanked it away. “I still love you,” he murmured as she turned, “and I know what you did.”
She shook her head, knowing her son would never betray her, but to ensure his silence she’d play the victim. After all, he was male. And she knew just how to manipulate any man. Young or old and every age in between, if they had the Y chromosome she would have her way. Nothing was beneath her, including destroying her son.
Chapter Six
E slid into bed next to his beautiful wife and nestled in behind her. She was sound asleep, giving him more time to find a way to tell her that her beloved sister was now in harm’s way. Again. God, they all were. One tiny misstep on Keeley’s part and this particular slave ring would make sure none of them lived to tell the story. Too much was at stake and it left E feeling out of control. Something he didn’t do well with. Though he had learned the art of letting go when it was absolutely necessary. He was by no means a control freak. His gorgeous wife had taught him so much. She was his angel. And he never tired of cherishing her.
Lacey sensed his unease, stirring at the turmoil reaching for her. Something was troubling him. Her heart wanted to wrap his tight and never let go. She tried to turn over but he stilled her. “No. Stay just like this so I can hold you close.”
“E, you’re scaring me,” she admitted.
“Because I am scared, Sweetness.”
“What?” She ignored his protest, reaching for the light on the bed table.
“Lacey…” his voice a broken plea filled with trepidation. Didn’t she understand he wasn’t comfortable with not being able to protect her sister, his brothers, or her?
She faced him and promised, “Whatever it is,” rubbing the pads of her thumbs across his cheeks, “we’ll get through it, together.”
His fingers curled around hers. The debate inside his head leaving him shaky—tell her now, or make love to her first. E was not a fucking coward. But how did he explain that he helped her sister go into a pit of vipers? He stood behind the decision, honestly saw no other logical choice, but she wouldn’t see it that way. And dear Lord, he understood that. He’d feel the same about Nik or Alex. If he tilted forward just an inch, he could delay the inevitable for a while longer. He knew his wife well. Once she learned the truth, no way in hell would they be spending the night making love. Far from it. He would be lucky to leave the bed with his dick intact. She wasn’t a vicious woman, actually few things ever sent her into full-blown rage, but when it came to Keeley…all bets were off. “Remember that.” He took that inch and placed a tender kiss on her lips.
She placed a finger against his mouth. “What is it? Tell me, please.” The plea coming from deep inside her. She hated seeing him so distraught and fought with herself to ease his troubled mind with her body, with their love. But Lacey knew, all too well, that things left unsaid had a way of coming back to bite you when you least expected it, usually leaving one hell of a gaping wound in the aftermath.
He pulled away, scrubbing his face with both hands. “You won’t like what I have to say.” His voice full of gravel as fear wrapped its icy fingers around his throat and squeezed.
She sat, wanting to give him time to form the words, even though a million questions raced through her mind. Is someone hurt? In danger? Are they at risk? If yes to these, then who? Him? Her? She began the mental checklist of all those important to them, the ones they loved, when everything became fuzzy. The bedroom was reduced to a foggy tunnel, what was standing at the end raced toward her. Her fingers gripped the bedding as she fought with what her eyes were seeing. “Keeley,” she half-gasped, half-screamed.
Damn. Her twin instinct was a bitch at times. He needed to calm her but acknowl
edged, due to his past fuck-ups, that the truth must be told. His hands on hers he confessed, “Yes.”
Lacey heard her husband from a far-off place, although she was aware he was right next to her. She couldn’t see past her beautiful sister’s face scrunched in horrific pain. Forcing the words from her mouth, “You put her in danger,” the bitter taste of acid on her tongue.
Inform her it was Keeley’s idea and he just assisted; tell her others are aware and involved; or, man up and take responsibility for his role? “I did,” he said with conviction.
Her gaze rose to his. “Get. Out.”
The calm quiet in her voice raising the hairs on his body. E wanted to plead his case, scream, do something to snap her out of this eerie cold that surrounded her. But maybe giving her time to think was best. Hell no, it wasn’t best! He closed the distance between them and hauled her to him. “You can be pissed,” he growled. “You can want to kick my ass from here to Sunday,” now speaking right against her mouth, “but you do NOT get to shut it all off.” His lips slammed against hers, demanding an entrance.
Her hands were on his shoulders to push him away. She couldn’t believe he’d helped her sister with one of her stupid schemes. Keeley would get herself killed, or worse, she’d end up so damaged they’d have to lock her away. Couldn’t he see that? Didn’t he understand? Her gasp of rage gave him access. His tongue became a weapon he knew all too well how to yield against her. She moved her fingers into his hair and yanked. To pull him off, or pull him closer—she wasn’t sure. Her actions did pull him back enough that she could speak. “She could die because of you.” The tears flowing. “Did you ever stop to think what losing my twin sister would do to me?”
He held on to her. No way in hell would he let her go. She needed to do this. Needed to get this all out. “I’m a bastard.”
The need to refute that warred with her mind agreeing. “No,” she choked on the word.
He nipped at her bottom lip. “You know it’s true.”
“E,” she cried, “I can’t lose her.” She tugged her face away, but he was stronger and brought her back to where he wanted. “You’re right, you are a bastard,” she ground out.
His chuckle was low and dark.
She was beyond furious with him. But there was no denying the heat between their bodies. Sex in this state could be dangerous for them both. “Shut the hell up and fuck me already.”
His growl was all-consuming as he shoved her to the bed, forced her knees apart with his, and impaled her in one hard, violent thrust. This was on a primal level as he pounded into her more than willing body. She screamed her release right before he erupted. Both breathing heavy, he rasped in her ear, “I am your bastard.”
She pushed against his muscled chest. “I’m still furious with you.”
He locked her wrists above her head with his hands. “Thank fuck.” Then buried himself deep, once more.
*****
Keeley was supposed to meet Mitch before going into the underground club. Motivated by her need to get back to Tar and her desire to find Chase, she entered without backup. She’d been in many of these establishments, they were all basically the same. However, their degree of how far one could go varied greatly. Flashes of her most recent one brought a chill of awareness up her spine. She could not let what happened with Braxton ever repeat itself again. Bringing Tar to the forefront of her mind, she began to observe—and what she saw had her taking a step back. There was no way that was him. He was in jail. Her heart raced so fast she was sure it’d leave her chest at any moment. God, how could Braxton be here? Images of Sheridan so horrifically beaten she was not recognizable danced in her head. Leith and the trauma he suffered at this man’s hands had her scrambling to get out. She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t able to face that monster again. Plus, there was that little extra fact of him wanting her dead. After he tortured and raped her, of course.
A firm hand grabbed her from behind and yanked. Keeley barely contained the scream. Furious eyes met hers. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Mitch,” she exhaled. “I-I”
His hand went over her mouth. “You did not follow orders. Keeley, in my world, that’ll get you killed.” She nodded emphatically. He warned, “Keep your voice down,” before letting her speak.
“I know you’re right. I’m sorry. I just thought it’d be best if I were alone.”
His eyes were wide. Astonishment written all over his face. “Either you’re one of the most courageous warriors I’ve ever met, or you’re the stupidest person on the planet.”
Instead of tears, he watched her shoulders square as her chin lifted. “Fuck you.”
Holy hell. Keeley found her determination sprinkled with aggression. He couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from rising. “Don’t you ever lose that.” She angled a look full of questions at him. He responded, “Your will. Keep it locked and loaded.” His hand circled her wrist, giving a slight tug around the corner. But she dug her heels in while shaking her head. He studied her for a long moment. Something spooked her. Or rather, someone, he realized as he caught Braxton out of the corner of his eye. Well, now, this just got interesting.
Her frightened gaze met his. “Did you know he was out?”
“Affirmative.”
She jerked out of his hold. “And you didn’t think that would be valuable information to share?!” Her voice raised in pitch causing others to glance over.
He hissed, “This, right here, is why.”
“I hate you. It’s all about catching the bad guy. Never once, do you stop and consider anyone else.”
Her angry words rang true in his ears. Except, they were in this situation for the same reason. “Tar is our focus. Hate me all you want, Keeley, but I’d like for my best friend to recover his memory fully. Added bonus if we can actually save a life in the process,” he pointed out.
She closed her eyes, finding composure. “I don’t really hate you. Let’s do this.” Keeley locked her arms around his neck and got as close as she could without crossing any lines, keeping Tar and Shelby in mind. “Just dance,” she whispered.
“Did Braxton see you earlier?”
“No. Thank, God.”
“Where’s he going?”
“Back room.”
“Do they have a dungeon?”
“Most likely. Lead me to that back corner.”
“How ‘bout you be the Domme?”
She pulled back enough to hold his gaze. “Seriously?”
“Absolutely,” he confirmed.
“Look at you talking like a civilian.” She grinned.
“Playing a part, sweetheart. Now dance us over there so we can find out just what we’re dealing with here.”
Her brows raised. “Last I checked, you follow my orders.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
All humor left them as they entered a room that left them gasping for air. Keeley clutched Mitch’s hand tight. “Something’s not right.”
They needed out of there. He looked for a way to escape unnoticed, but when the spotlight hit them, he knew they were screwed. Confirmation came over the speaker, “Tie your sub up over there.”
Keeley locked her gaze with his. “Move your ass before I punish you more.”
I can do this. I can do this. The mantra repeating over and over in his head as he let his best friend’s fiancée strip him down to his skivvies. The whip whistled through the air. “Fuck,” he hissed under his breath.
Her hand rubbing softly over the welt as she leaned in. “Pretend it turns you on.”
He leveled a pointed look at her, then retreated into his memory. He could do this for Tar. After all, Tar had done something quite similar for him years ago, not at some underground sex club but still he took a beating in Mitch’s place. And Keeley was not the enemy. He knew he was getting a much better deal as the whip stung again.
The light finally moved on to the next couple. Mitch received thirty lashes by her hand. She swallowed the tears at seeing
the damage done. From what she could tell he was holding up well. Keeley took a moment to revisit what they saw when they first walked in. The whipping stations were not the shock. It was the fact that Braxton was letting some masked woman lash him to the point he was a bloody mess, while others, she swallowed back the bile, were drinking it.
Chapter Seven
Cole slept restlessly in the waiting room. His head lay on Lisa’s lap as she sat formulating some kind of plan. She’d spoken to Clark. They were to meet in the next day or so. She couldn’t deny the anticipation made her horny. A shift in the seat didn’t help matters either. Her eyes darted around to find a place to relieve some pressure when a doctor appeared. She drank in the handsome man before her, turning her doe eyes to his. “Mrs. McNeil?”
“Yes,” she spoke softly.
“Your husband…”
“My brother-in-law,” she pointed out.
He continued, “Is out of surgery.”
“You were his surgeon?”
“I assisted, yes. The doctor who performed the surgery was called in to another emergency. He’ll be able to speak with you in the morning.”
“How is Tar?” She was carefully baiting the man with her purring voice. Her gaze never too forward but making sure he knew she found him attractive.
“We stopped the bleeding. Whether he recovers his memory or not, I can’t say. What I can tell you is that everything went well. Now, we wait and see how his brain responds.”
“That is good news. Thank you.” She batted her eyelashes and shifted with a little, “ohhhhh,” when Cole rolled into a fetal position. She glanced down at her son then back up to the doctor. “Could you help me move him?”
“Of course.” Reaching down to maneuver the child into a spot off his mother, he inquired, “Is your husband around?”
