by Marla Monroe
Once the doctor had checked her over, he smiled. “Okay. I’ll write discharge orders and have a nurse come in and go over everything with you. Keep the stitches dry and go to your regular doctor to have them out in seven or eight days. Return here if you show any signs of infection. The nurse will explain it all.”
They thanked the doctor for taking care of her. Sawyer sighed with relief. They’d be home soon. As soon as Taylor had recovered, they were going to marry her and get their house finished so they could move out of the club. They would leave all the decorating up to Taylor with the exception of their office and the play room. Those were their domains.
Once the nurse had gone over the paperwork and Taylor had gingerly signed herself out, Max pulled the truck around and Sawyer walked with Taylor as the nurse wheeled them out of the emergency room doors.
Much to their surprise, the sheriff had agreed to allow Taylor some time to recover before they questioned her on her ordeal. They would come out to the club the next day. Sawyer dreaded telling her all about the huge con that had been played on her. Her brothers were fit to be tied that they’d missed everything and that their sister had been hurt. They’d gone to Florida to get the paperwork proving that the building belonged to Taylor. Now her entire family was on the way there. They hadn’t been able to get a flight until late that night.
While he knew she would be happy to see her parents, she needed her rest and time to process everything. Sawyer knew she would take it all in stride on the outside, but she would stew and worry over it on the inside. He and Max would have to make sure she didn’t let it fester and make her sick. Based on everything they knew, she’d had no way to know what was going on. Her only failure had been in not talking to her parents about what was going on. It was one of the things he and Max would have to work with her about, her penchant for keeping problems to herself and trying to deal with them all on her own. That would have to stop.
“Here we are, Taylor. Let’s get you inside and back in bed,” Max said. “Sawyer, carry her inside. I’ll get the door.”
“I can walk, you guys,” she protested.
“But you’re not going to, babe. Deal with it,” he said with a smirk.
Once they had her situated in their bed, she started asking questions. Max tried to get her to rest and they would talk later, but she wasn’t backing down. Their woman had a stubborn streak a mile long. But they wouldn’t have her any other way.
“We don’t know yet when they hatched the plan, Taylor, but it had to have been before your parents retired and moved to Florida. I’m sure they talked about it for a while before they actually made the move,” Max said.
“They planned it almost a year in advance,” Taylor said with a nod.
“The building actually belongs to you, Taylor. Old Chesterfield convinced you that you were renting it from him. He planned to get you out of it as soon as he could, but didn’t want to arouse suspicion so he bid his time and waited. The building wasn’t going anywhere and he was turning a nice profit off your rent in the process,” Max said.
“Eventually the men he and his partners were dealing with demanded he produce the money they owed them and he needed your building to pay back the personal loan he gave himself from the bank before time for the auditors to come around. If they realized what he’d done, it would lead to even more questions and prying. They’d discover his connection to an organization that specialized in drugs and prostitution. In exchange for some favors, Chesterfield laundered small amounts of money using several of his business holdings around town, but they needed a larger amount cleaned and Chesterfield had made promises he would be able to deliver soon,” Sawyer added.
“I don’t get it. Why my building? What is so special about it?” she asked.
“They had the idea that they could put a pawn shop on that corner out of the direct line of vision of the sheriff’s department and easily move more money through it. Add to that the fact that you have access to the outside street from the alley as well as the front and more people can come and go without anyone being the wiser.” Max continued the story.
“But, the main reason had to do with the fact that there is an underground tunnel beneath the street to the real estate office behind you. It gave them an easy way to move more than just large sums of money. It allowed them to actually conceal drugs and weapons for their partners. Even if they’d moved Janice Matthews’s office to another building and turned it into a pawn shop, there was always the possibility that you would one day locate the access to the tunnel and find out what they were doing. They couldn’t take that chance. You had to go,” Sawyer told her.
“At first they tried to buy out your business. When that didn’t work, they had James junior attempt to woo you with the plan of once you were married, they could drug you and have you declared incompetent and take over the business.” Max smoothed her hair back.
“When that didn’t work, they tried to raise your rent and the taxes on your house. Oliver messed with your books making it look like you were having trouble paying your bills while Chesterfield siphoned money out of your account that Oliver covered for. They even had your insurance raised by bribing your insurance agent with their knowledge of his drug habit.” Sawyer hated to see the fire leave her eyes and an expression of defeat settle over her features.
“Babe, don’t be so hard on yourself. With so many people out to deceive you, there was no way you would ever know that something was wrong. It was a huge con that had all the bases covered except your determination to make Rizzoli’s successful. They hadn’t counted on that,” Sawyer said, lightly squeezing her hand.
“I should have known that the building belonged to me. I should have talked to Mom and Dad when things started getting so tough. I was too proud and didn’t want to tell them that I couldn’t seem to handle the business. I’d taken care of everything except the books for years. Why couldn’t I keep it going on my own? It just didn’t make sense, but I refused to involve anyone else in my problems.” Taylor’s eyes misted.
Sawyer kissed her cheek, careful of her bruises. Max kissed the top of her head, leaning his chin there for a brief moment.
“Precious, you trusted people you had no reason to doubt when your parents had done business with them for years. It’s not your fault,” Max told her.
“If anyone is to blame it’s your parents for leaving you without explaining everything to you in detail. They should have gone over it all with you instead of assuming you already knew it all and letting the accountant who’d always handled everything take over the rest of the books that your mom had always done.” Sawyer refused to let her parents off the hook in this.
“The rest of the blame is on us,” Max said. “We let you down. We failed to keep you safe when we promised we would. I’m so sorry, Taylor. Please give us the chance to make it up to you.”
“It’s not your fault, guys. There was no way you could have known they would do something like what happened at the club. I don’t blame either one of you at all.” She smiled at them. “I love you, both of you.”
Sawyer knew she’d told them that at the hospital when she was drifting off, but hearing her say it again, while fully awake and knowing what she said, filled him with joy and pleasure. He didn’t let another second pass before he admitted his love for her as well.
“I love you with all my heart, babe. All I want to do is take care of you and see you happy.”
Max gently kissed her on the lips then the tip of her nose. “I love you even more than he does.”
At Sawyer’s scoff, Max chuckled. “We both love you and will do everything we can to convince you of that every day for the rest of our lives.”
“Marry us, babe,” Sawyer blurted out.
“M–marry you? Both of you?” Her mouth dropped open as her eyes widened.
“Yes, both of us. You’ll marry Max officially, but as far as we’re concerned, you belong to both of us.”
He waited as she looked from him over t
o Max and back again. All manner of thoughts seemed to go through her mind as her expressions changed faster than he could decipher them. Worry that she would refuse or want to wait ate at him before she finally spoke.
“One question,” she said.
“What, precious?” Max asked. “We’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Why do I marry you for real and not Sawyer?” She looked at Sawyer. “Don’t you want to marry me?”
“Oh, babe. You have no idea how much I want to be the one to claim you in the eyes of the law, but if anything happened to us, I don’t have the resources Max does to take care of you. It wouldn’t be any big deal if it were just me. I know Max would care for you just as I would love and protect you if something happened to Max, but you would have his estate and family to rely on if you needed it.”
She looked at Max and smiled. “I don’t need your money or your estate. I just need the two of you.” She turned back to Sawyer. “I’ll marry you both as long as I get to put a ring on both of your fingers.”
“Honey, we’ll pierce our nose and wear one if it would make you happy,” Max said with a laugh.
“Hey, speak for yourself, man. That shit hurts,” Sawyer said.
“Listen to the great big soldier whining about a little piercing,” Max taunted.
“Shut up, you two, and kiss me.” Taylor put a stop to their joking, and Sawyer complied with a smile.
“Oh, babe. I forgot to tell you. Your parents will be here in the morning. Your brothers had flown to Florida to get a copy of the deed they had signed over to you to prove your ownership when everything happened. They’ll be here at nine in the morning,” Sawyer said.
Max kissed her before panic settled in. Peace settled into his heart as he took his turn at kissing away her worry. They would straighten everything out for her so that she could continue running Rizzoli’s. The first thing once she had recovered was to hire more help so she could spend more time with them. And, she wouldn’t be closing anymore. He smiled at the thought of the fight he and Max would have on their hands at that piece of news. He could already anticipate the makeup sex once they’d won.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marla Monroe has been writing professionally for about ten years now. Her first book with Siren was published in January of 2011. She loves to write and spends every spare minute either at the keyboard or reading another Siren author. She writes everything from sizzling-hot contemporary cowboys, to science fiction ménages with the occasional bad-ass biker thrown in for good measure.
Marla lives in the southern US and works full-time at a busy hospital. When not writing, she loves to travel, spend time with her cats, and read. She’s always eager to try something new and especially enjoys the research for her books. She loves to hear from readers about what they are looking for next. You can reach Marla at [email protected] or visit her website at www.marlamonroe.com.
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