Twisted Little Games - Book 2 (Little Games Duet)

by Dee Palmer

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “This is unbelievable gross negligence, and the trauma you’ve suffered, you can’t even sue the fucker. He died last year. We could probably sue the prison, maybe?” he mutters, and Atticus nods in agreement. Like a wave retreating on the sand, revealing a glorious beach, I can feel the shock begin to ebb. My wonderful reality starts to creep in, and I can honestly say suing anyone is the last thing on my mind.

  “I don’t care about suing anyone.” I stop them before they take that notion any further.

  I’m not that damaged after all.

  I’m having a baby.

  No, I’m having twins.

  “I’m pregnant,” I announce on a long and happy exhale.

  “Yep.” They both reply in unison.

  “Twins.”

  “Twins.” They repeat.

  “Oh god, I don’t know who the father is!”

  “Can you gentlemen leave us while I check Miss Parker over?” The nurse was passing did a double take at the open door. It was almost comical but she quickly regained her professional composure and efficiency. She brushes past Logan and waves off Atticus from the other side of my bed. They move like a gentle wave, easing back to give her room to check my tubes and pulse only to fill the space as soon as she moves away.

  “No,” Logan answers emphatically.

  “No, I didn’t think so.” She raises her brow and straightens her back so she can at least attempt to look him in the eye. She’s a good few inches adrift, but what she lacks in height she makes up in sheer presence. “Look, Mr Matthews…” She turns her head toward me but looks directly at Atticus. “Whatever you have been discussing has her pulse rocketing, and I don’t want her slipping back into a coma. It’s not a request, it’s an order.” She points her finger to the door and tips her head, waiting for them both to follow her instruction, which they do. They hover like lost sheep at the doorway; however, the nurse doesn’t falter in her resolve. “The doctor will tell you if and when you can come back.” Atticus looks like he’s going to snap. Even from here I can see his jaw muscle jumping like crazy. Logan’s pats his shoulder and they step over the threshold. The nurse walks over to shut the door.

  “Tia, we’re right outside!” Logan doesn’t so much shout as growl the words like a threat. Unaffected, the nurse simply closes the curtain across the vision panel in the door and turns to face me. My jaw is drops. She rolls her eyes and mutters, “Men…”

  “Wow, I’ve never seen either of then actually do as they are told before.” My voice holds just the right degree of awe. This woman is five foot nothing, and I swear I saw a flash of fear in both of their eyes when she addressed them.

  “I know for a fact neither of them would’ve left if I hadn’t frightened them. They have been a royal pain in my arse.”

  “I can imagine.” I snicker since her irritated tone holds little credence when her eyes are smiling like they are.

  “My name is Caroline. I’m the ward sister.”

  “Hello, Caroline. Um, it wasn’t only them you frightened though, will I fall asleep again?”

  “I’m sorry, that was definitely meant as a means to get your men to leave the room. In my experience, no, but each patient is different and head injuries are always taken seriously. I think it’s best we let the doctor check you over, shall we?” She continues to speak since I don’t think the question warranted an actual answer. “I’m sure you have many questions, but there’s no need to rush, we have plenty of time to get you fighting fit. These broken bones will likely take months to heal.” She adjusts the strap holding my arm and then fiddles with my IV tube.

  “I’m going to be in here for months?”

  “Not necessarily, but you will need lots of care, rehabilitation and rest. You have more than yourself to look after.” Her eyes dip down the bed and my free hand flies to lay a protective cover over my tummy.

  “Yes, I know. It’s a lot to take in.”

  “It is, but you have two men out there that haven’t left your side for a moment, so I think its safe to say you’re not going to be alone.”

  “Is it possible to find out who the father is, before the birth I mean?”

  “You can, if you want or you can wait, you’ve been through a lot.” She rests a comforting hand on my shoulder, and her soft smile tells me she’s knows exactly what I’m thinking.

  “I don’t know who the father is, and I think they will want to know,” I tell her all the same.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want time to think.”

  “Then I suggest that’s what you give yourself.”

  The door swings wide and a tall man wearing a smart navy suit, bow tie and a Consultant Surgeon badge enters the room. I recognise him as the doctor that told me I was pregnant but he doesn’t have his string of student doctors in tow this time. He strides purposefully into the room, takes the chart from the end of my bed and settles to stand next to Caroline. The numerous grey flecks in his jet-black curly hair suggest a man much older than the smooth dark skin on his face. He raises a thick brow when Logan and Atticus appear like shadows at his side but his focus is otherwise in me.

  “Good, sore and in shock, but I feel good.”

  “That’s very good to hear. You’ve had us all a little worried, although some more than others.” He winks.

  “Is she going to be all right? Are the babies okay?” Logan asks.

  “When can she come home?” Atticus adds his own rapid-fire question.

  “Gentlemen, I understand your concern. How about you step back and let me see if I can answer some of your questions.” The doctor moves around the bed and both Logan and Atticus give him just enough room to examine me. He casts one of those looks at Caroline when my good leg fails the flexion test.

  “Can you feel this?” He pinches my big toe on both feet.

  “Yes.”

  “And this?” He runs the end of his pen the length of my leg, first the right then parts of the left that aren’t encased in plaster.

  “Yes. I can feel all of that, why can’t I move my legs?” I can hear the panic in my voice.

  “You suffered extensive injuries. Its possible there is some swelling around the spine that might be preventing movement. It is encouraging that you have sensation throughout the lower body. It’s early days, Miss Parker; give your body time to recover. I’ll arrange for some scans so we can get a better picture of what’s going on. In the meantime, you need to rest.”

  “That I can do. I feel exhausted, and I’ve only been awake for an hour tops.” I try to brush off my concern with a lighter tone. The unspoken worry is like a thick fog in the room and adding to that isn’t going to help the situation. The doctor is right; it’s early days.

  “Listen to your body, it knows what it needs. I will be back tomorrow after your scans.” He briskly leaves the room, and the nurse is quick to follow.

  I have so much information crowding my head I don’t know how to start processing.

  “Baby, listen to the doctor; you need to sleep.” Atticus’s hand sweeps a line around my face, and he kisses my forehead. My lids are too heavy and they close with the blissful feeling of the tender contact.

  “Close your eyes, T. We’ll be here when you wake, always.” Logan bends down and kisses my lips, soft and sure and so filled with love my eyes wells with tears. I can’t keep them waiting; it isn’t fair.

  “Logan, Atticus… I can have a test to see who the father is—”

  “That’s not important.” Logan states and Atticus repeats the sentiment with a decisive shake of his head.

  “It’s not?”

  “It’s not what’s important right now. The only thing that concerns us both is getting you better and getting you home, my home,” Atticus insists and Logan throws a light but equally firm punch across the bed, hitting Atticus on his shoulder.

  “My home but we’ll argue that one later. First things first young lady…you need to sleep.”

 
“I don’t understand, why isn’t she walking yet? The last scan was fucking perfect.”

  “Language, Mr Kruse, this is still a hospital.” The curt hushed reprimand rouses me from my nap. After I woke from the coma, I spent one week in intensive care. Every test possible was conducted, checked and double-checked, and I couldn’t bring myself to moan. I wanted to be absolutely sure we were all right, me and our babies, no mistakes. I was then transferred to a state of the art rehabilitation centre that Atticus found and I’ve been here for three months. I feel fighting fit, relatively speaking and the babies are healthy. I just haven’t managed to walk or stand or even move my legs.

  I can hear Atticus’s frustration, and I echo the sentiment. I can wiggle my toes, feel every pinprick the doctor runs up the length of my legs on a daily basis, and I can certainly feel every stroke of the strong hands that help me with my twice-daily physio sessions. I must have had a hundred scans and they have all come back with no damage to my spine and no physical reason as to why I can’t move from the waist down.

  “It will take time. There is nothing physically wrong that we can detect but the spine is a complex system. You have to be patient.” The doctor explains.

  “Is there anything else we can be doing? What about hydrotherapy?”

  “As soon as her cast comes off, yes I would recommend starting hydrotherapy.”

  “And when is that?”

  “On Friday, and you can stop whisper shouting, and you can stop being cross with the doctor for that matter. It’s not his fault I’m broken,” I yell out and start to shift myself into a sitting position. I never used to have much upper body strength, but after heaving my body this way and that for three months, I think I could challenge Mike Tyson to an arm wrestle and not embarrass myself.

  “You’re not broken, well, a little broken but not completely.” Atticus leaves the doctor with a brief shake of his hand and is at my side, needlessly assisting in the last few adjustments to me sitting upright.

  “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “I doubt that.” He wiggles his brow playfully, and I almost crack a genuine smile.

  “It’s all in my head. I’m so fucking frustrated, Cass.” My eyes prickle with tears, and I fight them spilling, squeezing the lids tight.

  “I know, Tia. I know.” Atticus moves to wrap his arms around me. It’s awkward but welcome. I hold him tight, and his broad shoulders and strong arms envelop me, and I sink into their comfort. I can hear the steady thump-thump of his heart and relish the tender kisses he is sporadically bestowing on my hair.

  “Where’s Logan?”

  “I moved my stuff over to his place, but it’s all stacked up in the hall. He’s clearing out the guest room.” I pull back and tilt my head with a silent query, and my brow wrinkles with my obvious confusion. “We’ve talked to your consultant, Mr Jones, and he’s letting us take you home.”

  “Really?”

  “We’ve been taking care of you most of the time.”

  I hate that I am so helpless but I can honestly say they never make me feel like any sort of burden, even with the toilet trips, which were mortifying to begin with. After about a week, I stopped blushing every time I need to go, and after two weeks, I stopped worrying. “We actually think you’ll do better at home.”

  “You agreed to move into Logan’s house?

  “He’s had a water well installed in the conservatory and although my building has a pool, it isn’t private. Besides, once Tartarus is renovated we’ll all be living there so I thought I’d give him a few months at his place.”

  “We’ll all be living at Tartarus?”

  “Yes,” Atticus states with absolute certainty. He pulls the covers back and scoops me into his arms. “Come on princess, time for round two of your exercises. You need to use the facilities first?”

  “I do, sorry.”

  “You’re sorry for needing to take a pee?”

  “No, you know what I mean.”

  “I really don’t and neither does Logan, so stop. We nearly lost you. After that, nothing is as important as having you any which way we can. Period.”

  “Period? You’re all American now, hmm?” I tease.

  “A throwback from college, but it’s apt because that is an end to the discussion, understand?”

  “Yes Sir.” I mock salute and get a tight flutter in my tummy when his eyes darken and he responds in a throaty voice.

  “Now that’s more like it.”

  Four Months Later

  “You can feel this?” Logan has one hand around my waist, holding me flush to his strong and nearly naked body. The warm water swirls around us as we are both pummelled with fierce jets of water while ‘walking’ on the treadmill on the floor of the water well. His other hand is stroking my thigh as my legs move with each step of his.

  “Oh god, yes. Please do that again.” I sigh and moan, dropping my head with a thump against his chest. I release my hold on the bar in front of me and slip my arm into the water, grabbing a meaty handful of his taut arse.

  “You’re not helping, Tia.” He moves his hips away, but I can still feel the stiffness of his cock against my backside. He wears swim shorts and I do the same but we may as well be naked for the sexual tension that accompanies each of these sessions.

  “And neither is this.” I splash the water with a dramatic slap of my hand on the surface, covering us both in a warm wave of water. I pull myself out of his hold, floating onto my back and letting the water and a large intake of air support me. My large belly sticks high above the water and I rest my head back on the cushion side of the well. It’s been four months since I moved back home, and despite the relentless physiotherapy schedule that both Logan and Atticus have implemented, I am no better. That’s not entirely accurate, the breaks in my bones have healed and the cuts and bruises have vanished. The babies are healthy, yet I still need to be carried everywhere. With my steady weight gain I can’t help thinking that Logan must be regretting the decision to move me into his three-story house.

  “Give yourself time, Tia, stop beating yourself up. You’ll walk when your body is ready.”

  “I’m ready Logan. I wanted to have the babies my own way. I thought I’d be walking by now. I feel fine.”

  “You feel better than fine.” Logan inches close, and I can feel his hands crawl up my legs to my hips.

  “Now who’s not helping?” The water makes it easy to shift around him, and he pulls my legs around his waist even if I can’t keep them there. It feels almost normal for the short time they are locked in place.

  “I’m teasing, T, and before you jump to some crazy conclusion, yes, I want you, you can feel how much; however, we both want you better before we take the next step.” He rolls my hips against him, and I can feel every inch of how much he wants me.

  “The next step?”

  “The next step on from us sleeping together as we do now, with all the kisses and cuddles.” His throat bobs when he pauses and swallows. “What happens next, needs to be discussed for sure, but you have enough on your plate, that can wait.”

  “I get whiplash sometimes, from having zero sex drive to, well, I have two of the sexiest men on the planet sleeping naked on either side of me each night and—”

  “One of the sexiest,” Logan interrupts with a wry grin. “We’ll get there, T. There’s no rush. We have a lifetime.”

  “A lifetime for what?” Atticus steps into the room.

  “Fucking.” Logan replies.

  “God, you’re crass.”

  “I think you’ll find I’m to the point.”

  “Jesus, Logan, put some damn swim shorts on. I use that pool!”

  “I’ve got shorts on…this time,” Logan teases. “And lets not get precious over sharing a fitness pool when you’re more than happy to share this one’s sexy body.” He slides in behind me and cups my sizeable breasts. It’s a proprietary move to irritate Atticus, but it feels good all the same.

  “I never said I was happy.
I said I accepted Tia’s decision.”

  “I didn’t make a decision.” I move Logan’s hands off my body and pull myself to the step.

  “Exactly.” Atticus responds.

  “Hand me the towel would you?” I stretch my arm out, but Logan has sloshed his way to me and has scooped my up into his arms.

  “Here, let me carry her, you’re going to break your neck trying to climb over the edge with her like that.” Atticus hold his arms out.

  “We’re fine, how do you think we normally manage?” Logan climbs the steps up and out of the pool.

  “I know you manage, it’s just better when we work together.” Atticus holds out a large fluffy towel.

  “Gay,” Logan retorts with a suppressed smile.

  “Oh, for fuck sake, here take the damn towel. I only came down to tell you lunch is ready.’

  “You made lunch?” I drop my mouth wide open in a mock surprise.

  “I’ve been teaching him the basics,” Logan explains, and I’m almost positive his tone holds a hint of affection. I can’t help myself when I respond.

  “Gay.”

  “How are you feeling?” Logan caresses my cheek.

  “Nervous. I really wanted to do this myself you know?” My voice catches, tears instantly spring to fill my eyes, and I curse the damn hormones for making me this emotional.

  “I know, baby.” Logan catches the first fall of tears on his thumb and sucks them into his mouth.

  “It’s the safest way, princess.” Atticus places a sweet kiss on the palm of my hand he is holding. He stares deeply into my eyes, and despite both of their reassurances, I can see he’s just as nervous.

  “It is, and hundreds of women have caesarean births, I just—” I suck in a stuttered breath and Atticus catches me before I fall.

  “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be here every step of the way.”

  “Good, I’m glad you’re here, both of you I mean.”