Regan Harris Box Set

by Kelly Wood

  “How am I going to pay for this?” I have insurance, but let’s face it, it's crappy and cheap. I looked to Gray for his thoughts. He had a pained expression on his face.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “That’s as bad as ‘we need to talk.’” The heart monitor beeped faster as my body prepared for bad news.

  “I assume when we marry, we will combine finances?” Gray posed the statement as a question.

  “That’s what married couples do, right?”

  “Then you need to know that once we get married, you will be rather wealthy.”

  “You’re wealthy?” I took in his outfit. He was wearing his standard uniform. Black t-shirt, jeans, and scuffed motorcycle boots.

  “I’m a trust fund baby.”

  “How?” I asked. I sat up in bed so I could see him better over the rails. I felt he was playing a practical joke, but why would that be funny?

  “My grandparents left my siblings and me each a trust fund.”

  “I thought your family runs a small business in Las Vegas? How is that trust fund worthy?”

  “The small business is one of the two casinos still independently owned and operated in Vegas.”

  “Your family owns a casino? Joe’s right. The meds have gone to my head.”

  Before we could finish the conversation, the doctor walked in. He was young and looked exhausted. I wanted to tell him to get out and come back later. Gray and I needed to finish our conversation, but I wanted to go home more. I shelved any further questions. For now. A trust fund baby? A casino?

  My foot was not broken. Only badly bruised. Even being slow, the hospital took six hours to tell me that. I was supposed to ice it regularly and stay off of it completely for the next two days. Fat chance of that, but I didn’t say the words out loud. The doctor ordered another injection of pain meds before releasing me. My head floated away, but I made it perfectly clear to Gray that we were not done with the conversation.

  The pain woke me from a deep sleep. The red numbers of the alarm clock showed 10:45. The meds must’ve done a number on me. I never slept that late. On the nightstand next to the alarm clock sat a glass of water and the prescription bottles from the hospital. Gray also sat out a muffin, so the ibuprofen wouldn't upset my stomach. I shrugged. Maybe, he was the marrying kind and I had just been too blind to notice.

  The subject of his trust fund still left me feeling uneasy. It was a jarring revelation. I had never needed much money to be happy. I liked living a simpler life. Having lots of money had always seemed more of a burden to me. Not that I had any firsthand experience.

  Of course, I never would’ve guessed Gray had money either. He’s a budgeter. Always aware just how much money he had on any given day. I nibbled on the muffin. The raisins in it were fresh. Knowing Peter, he’d probably gotten up early to whip up a batch.

  I sat up, trying not to unsettle my foot. Gray propped it up on two pillows when we got home. I downed the pills and finished off my muffin. I hated feeling trapped. I knew Gray wouldn't let me go anywhere until Jax's show tonight—if he allowed that. I would fight him tooth and nail if he tried to prevent me. I would play nice, though. I resigned myself to lie in bed all day.

  Gray opened the door to the bedroom, coming in with Peter following him. Peter had a tray filled with coffee cups, a full French press, and cups of sugar and creamer. Gray carried another tray full of muffins and bagels.

  "Are we going to do this the hard way or the easy way?" Gray asked.

  "The easy way. I will stay in bed until we go the gallery later."

  "Good. I expected a fight." He set down the tray, pulling two chairs toward the bed. The boys sat down, ready to eat.

  I was not the best patient. I had too much energy to be confined to a room or a bed. With my history of klutziness and injuries, I usually made it about twelve hours before I started plotting my escape. Gray usually made it about ten hours before he tied me down.

  "Are you two just going to stare at me all day?" I asked.

  "Nope. We are going to make sure you eat, then plant you on the couch downstairs with your computer. You are actually going to get some writing done. We will then help Jax and pick up her mom, come back here to get ready and go to the opening. Got it?"

  "Yes, Peter. I’m not happy about it, but I will follow your orders.” I blew on my coffee before taking a sip. “Just one question. How did you know about us yesterday, um, hiring Sarah?"

  "Seth called me. Mother was next to him when he took the call. She recognized Gray's name, so he called me wondering if he should really charge my houseguests. Not your best plan." Peter shoved half a muffin into his mouth, tucking it into his cheek so he could continue speaking. "I talked to Sarah today. She was rather annoyed about yesterday. Since she’s a good, Christian, Midwestern girl with values, being compared to Mary Magdalene did not suit her."

  "I clearly am not a master criminal,” I said. “Although, Seth didn’t recognize Gray’s name,” I pointed out.

  “Seth only knows Gray in passing through you.”

  I sighed and gave in. “Apologize for me, please.”

  “No.”

  “What?” I asked. “Why not?”

  “Because you are an adult and you made your own bed. Now lie in it.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Tough. End of discussion.” The rest of breakfast was a tense affair. He might’ve said he forgave me last night, but the event was clearly still on his mind. His brow was etched with worry. If I were him, I’d be worried about the staff finding out. With women’s lib these days, he could have an uprising on his hands. I wanted to feel sorry for the situation I had put him in, but I couldn’t work up the energy. Not today. Maybe tomorrow I would go to the pub and seek out Sarah. Or I’d send her a handwritten note. Everyone liked getting those in the mail.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Peter and Gray unceremoniously dumped me on the couch with a cell phone, water bottle, pills, and computer, and left. Gray kissed me goodbye and told me not to move unless I needed the restroom. He was probably only allowing me to go there because he couldn’t find a bedpan last minute.

  I followed his rules for exactly twenty-two minutes. After that, I spent two minutes debating with myself before getting up. As a concession to my foot and to the rules that Gray had imposed on me, I crawled through the house. I headed straight to Peter’s office.

  I didn’t feel a tinge of guilt about my decision until I actually crossed into the room. I pulled myself into Peter’s chair and booted up the computer. I had no clue what I was looking for, but since I had the chance to snoop, I was taking it.

  The computer was slow as molasses, or that was just the way it felt since I was trespassing. I tapped my fingers on the desk while I waited. A password screen appeared. I tried his password on the computer at the office, but it didn’t work. I tried his dad’s name and birthday. Nada. I feared the computer would lock me out, which made me leery to keep guessing at the password. At work, Peter had a hard time remembering it, so it was written out on a sticky note and posted on the back of the computer. I looked at the back of this computer, balancing on one foot. Nothing.

  I could go through his file cabinet and drawers, but it would be a blind search. I might only have a limited amount of time. Come on, think! I looked under his pen holder. Nope. He would keep it close at hand. Peter didn’t like to be inconvenienced in any way.

  Other than the cup holding his pens and pencils, Peter had a picture of Anais, him, Jax, and me. It was taken on a vacation long ago. We were in Aruba celebrating Anais’s birthday. The four of us were standing arm in arm, wearing shark fins on our heads. It was an inside joke. The whole trip had been great. We even came home with a story. During a snorkeling excursion, a shark had wandered into our area. Everyone else had seen it, quickly swimming to the boat and safety. I had gotten water under my mask and was too worried about clearing it to notice. The boat crew, my friends, and the other snorkelers
were pointing and screaming, “Shark!” the whole time. I didn’t even notice. I just kept cleaning my mask. Luckily the shark moved on without taking a bite out of me. The rest of the trip, Peter and Jax would randomly yell, “Shark!” while pointing next to me.

  The light bulb clicked on. I entered Shark! And the computer came to life. The picture was his reminder. It wasn’t as obvious as a post-it, but a reminder he wouldn’t forget.

  I started opening files at random. Peter’s sense of labeling had never made sense to anyone but him. I opened a file, glanced at the contents, closed it and moved on. I was about to give up when I hit pay dirt. It was an Excel spreadsheet. The file had multiple tabs all labeled with girls’ names. Each tab showed a picture of the female with personal information. Name, date of birth, address, etc. Under that columns showed the dates, times and clients for each event the girl worked.

  Most of the events were no longer than an hour or two. I’d bet dollars to donuts these girls weren’t bartending. Nobody had an event that only lasts for one hour. I moved to the next tab. Kristen seemed to be rather popular. She had more dates listed than the previous girls. I studied her picture. She was pretty, but not nearly as stunning as Sarah. She had shoulder-length auburn hair, dark eyes, and freckles. The picture was only a head shot, it said nothing about how tall or short, fat or thin, she was.

  The front doorknob jiggled in the background. I stood quickly to peek down the hallway, forgetting about my foot. Pain shot up my leg. I quickly closed out the open files on the screen before powering down.

  One of them must’ve come back to check on me. As far as I could see, I had two options. Hide under the desk, where I would definitely be found by whoever noticed I wasn't still conked out on the couch, or make a dash for the bathroom. I chose the bathroom across the hall. I crawled across the floor since it would be faster than trying to hobble. My knees cried out in pain.

  I slammed the bathroom door as I heard the front door open. Whoever had come home was taking a long time to unlock the door, but I was grateful for the time. I laid on the floor for a moment, catching my breath. After an acceptable time has passed for someone to actually have used the facilities, I flushed the toilet. I slowly washed and dried my hands even though I didn’t need to. Surprisingly, no one had called out my name. Maybe they hadn’t noticed my absence yet. I left the bathroom, preparing to call out to them, but the surprise was on me.

  Ben was standing just out of sight from the hallway. He was leaning against the counter in the kitchen like he belonged there.

  I screamed and hit him in the nose with the heel of my hand. Blood gushed from his nose. It sprayed out, staining both of our shirts. I backed up against the wall while he backed further into the kitchen, grabbing a dish towel for his nose.

  Gray was going to be so mad.

  I was sure he never thought that I wouldn't be safe at Peter's by myself. My second thought was that I should be afraid. My only choice was to fight, the flight being taken away with my battered foot. I tried shaking off the cloudiness in my head from the painkillers. I needed my full focus.

  Neither of us spoke. We just stood staring at one another. I sized Ben up quickly. He seemed to be unarmed. Okay, good for me, but he still had me by six inches and fifty pounds. At least I evened the playing field. I could still feel the crunch of his nose breaking under my hand. I scanned the room, looking for any handy weapon. I spotted my keys on the dining room table. I vaguely remembered Gray tossing them there last night when we came home. Next to them sat a vase of flowers. The vase was a sturdy crystal. It would make a good weapon, but it would also mean that I would have to get closer to him.

  "I think you should leave," I said, inching closer to the table. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try that first.

  "No." It comes out sounding like a squeak. I laughed. I knew the moment wasn’t funny, but it escaped before I realized I was going to make a sound.

  "What’s your plan? You want to lock me in the bathroom since we don’t have a storage unit here? That was you, right?” I asked, taking another step.

  "I would like to talk to you. This isn’t what you think." Ben had his hands out in front of him.

  "Why didn't you try that when you trapped Jax and me? I wasn’t going anywhere.”

  “Regan, you need to understand.” I ignored his comment.

  "As you can see, I've had an accident.” I waved my hand toward my wrapped foot. “Do you mind if I sit?" I didn't wait for a reply. I headed to the table and sat quickly. The keys were on my side of the vase, out of his view. "So, talk."

  “I don’t know where to start.”

  “I’ve heard that a lot from you lately.” I reached for the keys.

  I grabbed the keys and stood up. Just as I was hoping, he lunged to stop me. I picked up the vase and hit him on the head. I was hoping to knock him out, but it just seemed to daze him. I shoved him back and took off.

  The wrap offered little protection for my bare foot. I ignored the pain, running as fast as I could for the door. I had to get a head start before Ben caught me on the stairs. I took the quickest way down that I knew. I side-saddled the railing and slid. There was no banister to catch me. The railing just curved to continue down to the next set of stairs. With each landing, an ice pick of pain stabbed my foot, but I continued on, jumping back up and sliding down again.

  Ben was ten feet behind me. I didn't bother knocking on the other doors for help. It would take too much time and it was noon on a Friday, so regular people would be at work. Regular people who didn't have crazies chasing them on a regular basis.

  With one more banister to go, Ben grabbed my arm. Long ago, Gray had taught me some self-defense moves in case I was ever attacked. At the time, I had listened patiently, never thinking that I would need it. Now, I sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Using the momentum Ben gave me by pulling me toward him, I clenched my right hand into a fist and punched him in the neck. He staggered back, clutching his neck, fighting for breath.

  I didn't hesitate but jumped up on the last railing and continued sliding down. I fell into the front door at the bottom, and pushed it open quickly. I ran for my car, grunting with each step on my bad foot.

  Oh, what I wouldn’t give for keyless entry! I fumbled with the keys to unlock the door, my hands were shaking with fear and adrenaline. I slammed the door and locked it just as Ben reached it.

  My plan in sliding down the stairs had been to reach my car and drive the two blocks to the police station. My plan didn’t take into account my foot. I pushed in the clutch with a scream. The pressure against my injury was intense. I dropped the keys on the floor from the shock of pain. I leaned down, scrambling to find them. “Please God please God please God,” came out of my mouth. I didn’t think I had ever prayed that fervently.

  I found the keys and braced myself for the pain again. I didn’t scream the second time. I bit my lip to hold it in. I looked through the window to find Ben coming at my car with a large rock in his hand.

  I flung myself flat to the right. Glass showered down around me. Before Ben could do any more, I heard a man yell at him. Ben looked toward the shout before coming back to meet my eyes.

  He winked at me and then ran off in the opposite direction. I popped the clutch and shot into the street, heading straight for the Addison police station. Screaming every time I shifted gears.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The police station had calmed down since my arrival. I had raced in an hour before, my face covered in little cuts, Ben's blood on my shirt, and my foot swelled even more from the misuse. In my version, I said race. In reality, I hobbled in crying, bleeding, and shaking.

  I had held myself together long enough to get to the police station, but once the adrenaline wore off, the crying and shaking had started. I left my car double parked on Halstead, keys still in the ignition. I had enough sense to pull the emergency brake. After making it to the desk sergeant, I had uttered, “Help,” and then promptly fainted from the pain.


  I had woken up to Liam and his partner standing over me. Two paramedics looked me over, but I refused another trip to the hospital. Other than the foot, the injuries were minor anyway.

  Peter, Jax, and Gray arrived in a flurry of activity. As soon as I spotted Gray, the tears and shaking started up again. Liam gave me time to get myself back together before again restarting the questioning.

  "Officers are at the scene now, taking photos and documenting everything. We put your car in impound until you can arrange for the window to be fixed," Liam said.

  I couldn't say anything. I needed to lie down and rest. I longed for my bed and a painkiller. The fright, the flight, the fight, and the pain had worn me out. I turned into myself mentally, ignoring those around me. I leaned against Gray’s chest. I knew he would take care of me and get me home.

  I woke up a few hours later, stiff and sore. My dreams had been broken sequences of running and pain. I could see Gray in them, standing far away, always watching, but never helping. I tried to run to him but wasn't able to reach him. I tried to pull myself awake, but drugs had kept me under. Finally, a black cloak of exhaustion draped over me, pulling me into a deep dreamless sleep. I could still feel the terror of the earlier dreams though, even conscious.

  "You're awake."

  I hadn't noticed Gray lying next to me. The weight of his arm over me had gone unnoticed, too. Medicine made me loopy. I was lucky to focus enough today on getting away from Ben.

  "Yes," I said, staring at the ceiling.

  "I could hear you moaning and calling out in your sleep, so I laid down with you," he said. He brushed the hair from my eyes and kissed my cheek. "When Liam called me, I thought my heart would stop beating. Are you okay? Really okay?"

  "Yes. Just shaky."

  "Normally, I would be glad for you not to talk so much, but right now I really need to hear your voice."

  "Okay," I said. I asked the first question that popped into my head. "Did someone get Jax's mom from the airport?"