Flashback

by Cait London

  Then he was being lifted like a baby, and his head pounded as he was carried from the garage with Harry in his arms. The big body holding him tightened as he was being tilted precariously. The sound of a man retching his guts out was easy to define. “Moses—”

  “I can’t stand the sight of blood,” Moses stated between gagging sounds. “This whole place is exploding. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Pup was barking excitedly, Harry was hissing, and Kyle was being stuffed into a car. One door shut, then another, and Moses growled, “Get the hell off me, cat.”

  Kyle felt the Hummer rev and heard the crash of metal against metal. He recognized the sound—Moses had driven straight through the gates, not opening them fully—before Kyle gave himself to the dark painful fist squeezing him—

  Kyle heard himself talk, but couldn’t rouse fully.

  Then Moses’s arm was around him, easing him from the car. A man and a woman were arguing—but that could have been Rachel and himself this morning, when he was trying to tell Rachel to wait for him, not to start any trouble before he could protect her….

  “He won’t go to a hospital. The sight of blood makes me sick,” Moses was saying seemingly from another planet. Cool mist curled around Kyle and he lifted his face to it, but he couldn’t swim through the daze to reality on the other side….

  “Tough. Help me get him into my apartment. You just turned white, Moses. Don’t you dare faint now. Don’t you dare,” Rachel was saying furiously. “He’s a mess…here, let me get on the other side and we can get him up the stairs—”

  Moses cursed briefly, then his voice was indignant. “I can bench-press a whole lot more than Kyle weighs, lady. Don’t try to take the cat away from him. He won’t let you.”

  “You let him fall and you’re dead,” Rachel threatened as Moses picked him up and began the slow, painful journey for Kyle up the stairs. “He should go to a hospital. Maybe we should—”

  “He said to bring him here.”

  “He’s just passed out again—”

  For Kyle, time tumbled into rousing slightly, feeling pain crash over him, hearing himself say something, and then slipping back into the darkness. And then it began all over again. In the distance, Pup was barking.

  Kyle heard Rachel say furiously, “My sister died in this apartment, and if you do, too, I’ll never forgive you!”

  He tried to smile, but couldn’t. He heard himself saying something and then Moses translated between rounds of gagging. “Kyle said he loves you and that if he has any cat vomit on him, he wants it off.”

  “Get him into that bed. He smells like gas.”

  “Yeah, well—” Moses grunted as he lowered Kyle onto something flat. “He’s wearing a lot of it.”

  The level surface didn’t stop Kyle’s head from spinning, then he recognized the feel of Rachel’s hand gripping his, the scent of her leaning over him, her soft touch probing his head gently. “I don’t like this. He needs a doctor.”

  Kyle tried to argue and failed, but Moses growled, “He just wants you.”

  Something big and thick pulled back each of Kyle’s eyelids, and Moses stated, “Slight concussion. I figure a few bruised ribs, too. Just clean him up, will you? Put a compress on that cut on his head and get some ice in a bucket. But first, get the blood off him, and I’ll work on him.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. You’re not qualified to be a doctor.” Rachel leaned close enough again for her scent to carry through that of gasoline. “What’s that, Kyle?”

  Moses translated again, “Lady, you need experience with guys with smashed lips, like boxers, to understand what he’s saying…. He says for you to shut up for once and stop giving orders. Get a scissors and cut his clothes off, the bloody ones. I’ll handle the rest. I gotta go wash it off me—”

  “You can’t just leave me here with him. You stay right where you are, Moses. Oh—are you sure he isn’t dying? I really need him, Moses, and I’m not going to be happy if he does die.”

  Rachel needed him. Kyle wanted to smile, but his effort hurt too much; Rachel sounded desperate, like just maybe she cared. Of course, she did, he reasoned woozily. He’d finally had his hands on Miss Neptune’s Landing’s shells and she was very particular.

  “He’s too tough to die,” Moses stated.

  “He’d better not. Don’t you go anywhere while I get something to clean him. You look like you’re going to faint. Put your head between your knees—”

  Kyle felt the bed beside him depress deeply and knew that Moses had stretched out beside him. “Well, fine. Now there’s two of you,” Rachel said after a moment.

  On his other side the bed depressed slightly and Rachel bent over Kyle, dabbing a damp cloth over his face. “I’ve never done this before, you jerk,” she was saying amid sounds that sounded like crying. “I’m not trained for this and I’m scared. What if you really are dying, and that bozo over there doesn’t know what he’s doing? I should call nine-one-one right now. If I had any sense, I would.”

  Sirens sounded outside, a fire truck passing by, the red lights flashing in the window, and Pup started barking again. Moses yelped, cursing, shaking the bed as he left it. “Ouch. Damn cat got me in the balls.”

  Harry purred loudly and settled against Kyle’s side. He managed to place a hand on the cat and mumble.

  “What did he say?” Rachel asked softly as the cool metal of a scissors slid up Kyle’s chest and she cut away his shirt.

  “That the cat is worried about him and to let him stay where he was,” Moses answered.

  “The bleeding has stopped. Get over here and help me undress him, you big ox,” Rachel ordered and Kyle almost smiled. “What?” she asked sharply.

  Moses translated: “He said, ‘That’s my woman.’”

  “Ohh—” Rachel’s voice crooned before she bent to kiss Kyle very lightly.

  In his pain, Kyle flashed back to when they were making love, and Moses chuckled softly, another man, recognizing the hard thrusting erection. He imagined Rachel’s flush when she whispered, “You stop that right now, Kyle Scanlon.”

  “Let him think about it, Rachel,” Moses advised softly. “It’ll keep his mind on you and not on the pain while we undress him.”

  “What did he say?”

  Moses chuckled again. “He said, ‘Later.’”

  Kyle drifted in and out of pain and then Rachel was sitting beside him, holding his hand. His other hand was on Pup, whose body rested against him over the sheet. From the feel of the sheet on Kyle’s body, he knew he was naked, and the gas stench had settled into an antiseptic scent. His ribs were tightly bandaged, a cold ice pack was on one cheek, and he seemed plastered with Band-Aids. Two uniformed policemen were standing near the bed, and to one side, Jada was holding Trina’s hand; both women looked worried. While the officers took notes, Moses was laying out a time chart of when he’d last spoken to Kyle, and when he’d arrived at Scanlon’s Classics and what he saw at that time.

  Kyle noted that according to Rachel’s bedside clock, it was now one o’clock in the morning. He pressed Rachel’s hand and she instantly looked down at him, her expression concerned. “They’re investigating the fire—oh, Kyle, the whole place exploded. There was gas in all the cars and the fire pretty well gutted them. There’s an officer there, making certain that looters don’t carry off what is left of your inventory.”

  Kyle recognized Cody Michaelson’s serious tone; it was the same one he used when he was bidding on a good poker hand. “Major explosions, Kyle. Some of the stockroom was saved, the apartment has a gaping hole in one wall where a car exploded, and the office is smoke damaged and water soaked. All the tires and oil out there are still on fire—”

  “Do we have to do this now?” Rachel asked tightly. “He’s injured, can’t you see that? Now, I want you all out of here this minute.”

  Cody apparently didn’t know Rachel well and continued, “Ma’am, we need to—”

  “I know, I know. Insurance investigations,
et cetera, et cetera. I’ll call you as soon as he gets some rest. Do not—repeat do not call me. Nothing can be done right now but assess the damage anyway, is there?”

  “It looks like arson, ma’am,” Cody pressed boldly on, and Kyle almost felt sorry for him.

  Rachel’s head tilted to one side, and her shoulders straightened in pure attitude. “Are you saying that Kyle Scanlon would deliberately set fire to his own business for insurance purposes?” she asked tightly.

  She was defending him, his own little fearless crusader…. While he could speak now, Kyle decided to let Rachel handle the moment, because he wasn’t up to arguing with her, too.

  “No, ma’am, I’m just saying that—” Pup growled softly, and the other officer asked, “Does that dog bite?”

  Rachel stood to her feet, and Kyle watched through the slit of his one eye. She gathered her body up, went hip shot with her other hand on her hip, and leaned her head back, studying the officer, sighting in on him. “Yes. He’s a trained guard dog. Now he’s protecting Kyle and I don’t blame him. I don’t like your tone, or your accusations and I wouldn’t say anything more until Mr. Scanlon can recover, if I were you,” she stated coldly, fiercely, as her hand gripped Kyle’s. She glanced down at him; her narrowed eyes told him to shut up, that she was handling this now and wouldn’t stand for his interference.

  It was an odd feeling, a woman defending him so fiercely, going toe-to-toe to protect him, when it was usually the other way around. He tried to sit up, and Rachel bent to put her hand flat on his chest. “Stay put. I’m handling this. Play hero some other time.”

  Moses started to laugh. “Kyle just said that he wasn’t letting a woman handle his business.”

  “Oh, he did, did he? Well, get this, Kyle Scanlon—right now, you are my business.”

  “Ma’am, you’ve got this all wrong,” Cody hurried to say. “I take it you’re friends with Kyle?”

  “More than that. We’re in a relationship. A very close relationship. He’s in my care now, and you’re in my home. Please leave.”

  Cody, apparently the senior officer in the investigation, wasn’t being put off. “Kyle Scanlon is my friend, too, Ms. Everly. I just want to know that he’s in good hands.”

  “Are you saying that I will not take good care of him?” Rachel asked very carefully.

  When Cody looked at Kyle, he managed to shake his head, and motion for the policeman to back off.

  After the officers left, Jada said, “Whew. I’d leave, too. You were furious, Rache.”

  Rachel pushed back her hair. “I’ve had a hard day, that’s all. And I’m worried about Kyle. I still think we should call a doctor.”

  “No,” Kyle managed and the word rattled around inside his brain, hurting it.

  “Is there anything we can do?” Trina asked worriedly.

  “Moses Fry, isn’t it?” Jada asked moving closer to the ex-wrestler and peering up at him. “You grew hair. Last time you were bald.”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “Hair is good.” Jada’s appraisal ended with an approving nod. “I like the look—black, wavy, thick. Do you use volumizer?”

  “What are those things on your teeth?” Moses asked warily, flattening against a wall as Jada stood on tiptoe, looking up at him.

  “Braces and rubber bands. Hot pink for spring and summer. Do you like them?”

  Moses didn’t answer and Rachel sighed tiredly. Jada, definitely interested in the ex-wrestler, was too much to handle at the moment. “Mom, you look like you’ve had a long day. Jada and Moses will help me with Kyle. Maybe you could call Bob to take you home?”

  “He’s waiting outside. We called him right away, but he wouldn’t come in. I hope you’re okay, Kyle. Please call me if I can help, Rachel.”

  “Okay, what’s this about?” Jada asked after Trina had left, and Rachel sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Can I talk now?” Kyle asked warily.

  Rachel waved her hand as if she’d had enough of everyone. “Me, first. I just had a little go ’round with Shane tonight. It wasn’t sweet, and he just could have gotten mad enough to do something rash—”

  Jada exploded. “Like setting the garage and cars on fire? No way.”

  “Someone did,” Kyle said as he eased himself upward. Rachel quickly bent to prop a pillow behind him as he sat up in bed and waited for the world to stop spinning. He leaned into the icy cloth Rachel was patting over his face, and drank the water she handed him. “Nice patch job, Moses.”

  “Thanks. Once after she got all the blood washed off, I went to work. You learn a lot of stuff in wrestling. Made a few butterfly bandages, but didn’t sew up anything. Nothing broken, just bruised pretty bad. Someone kicked the living daylight out of you.”

  “Did what?” Rachel and Jada asked in shocked unison.

  “I thought it was an accident, that something fell on him,” Rachel said unevenly.

  “Something like kicks. Those bruises are spaced too regular along his side and back and they just fit the shape of a shoe. It was meant to look like an accident, like that scooter motor was supposed to have fallen on him from the shelves. Supposedly, the sparks from a barbeque grill in the back caught on fire and it knocked over close to a can of gasoline—my size fourteen foot, it did. Someone is real pissed.”

  “Now, I wonder who? And what the hell were you doing with Shane, Rachel?” Kyle asked darkly, because he already knew that she would be pressing buttons as soon as she got back to Neptune’s Landing, and not listening to his cautioning argument, or his request that she wait for him.

  “Visiting. You tried to get Mallory to see what Shane was, didn’t you?”

  “He wasn’t going to marry her. He couldn’t afford what she was, her bad reputation. Shane would have been kicked out of the social circle he loves. What does ‘visiting’ mean exactly?”

  “I took some of the things he gave Mallory back to him.” As she sat beside Kyle and looked at her sister, Rachel ached for Jada. “A romantic book of poetry and a wedding ring.”

  Jada stiffened and frowned. “Are you certain those were from Shane?”

  “Yes, and he has hair the color of her doll, Jada. I’m sorry. Don’t tell Mom about any of this. Please. And Jada, could you please ask Bob if he would stay over at Mom’s tonight? I just want to know that you and she are safe.”

  Evidently trying to deal with the discovery that Shane had actually had a role in encouraging Mallory’s romantic ideas about him, Jada agreed. “I don’t know if he’ll stay or not…. Mom and Bob are having some disagreements now. It’s over you, Rachel. Bob is really mad about you seeing Kyle. He says the same thing will happen to you as did to Mallory, and he just can’t stand by this time and do nothing. He says your judgment is skewed right now, that Kyle has that effect on women. Mom really went after him when he said that.”

  “He was here for her tonight and I’m glad of that. But I’m sorry—they’ve always been so good with each other. I’ll try harder to let him know that nothing has changed, that I still love him.”

  There was more to Rachel’s “visit” with Shane, but Kyle decided to save his questions for later. He sensed he wouldn’t like her answers. He also had a feeling that they were going to have a hell of an argument, one that would test their “relationship,” when he felt up to it.

  Moses yawned hugely. “Where do I sleep?”

  “Not with me,” Kyle answered.

  “On the couch.”

  Kyle managed a leer at Rachel that really hurt. “And who are you sleeping with, little girl?”

  “Nothing to worry about. Just a little bump in the road. Rachel is just as much of a tramp as her sister, and I’ll soon have this all worked out to my satisfaction. She’ll soon be my private entertainment, just as Mallory was. Everything will be just as it was, only better, because Rachel will be harder to break and that will make a better game.”

  He wondered what he could do to insinuate that Kyle was probably the arsonist, and the possible recipient
of a hefty insurance check.

  “If that ex-wrestler hadn’t rescued him, Kyle would have died, as he should have long ago—for meddling in my business, in my private pleasures.”

  He picked up the semi-automatic and hefted its unfamiliar weight, his hands gloved, of course, to retain Kyle’s fingerprints. When the time was right, someone would die, and Kyle would be out of the picture. He studied the deadly weapon, the filled clip, and aimed it at a picture of Mallory with her sisters. “One…two…three.”

  Mallory had been very malleable, until she’d decided to leave him—and then he’d had to make good his threat to hurt one of her family.

  Three years ago, he’d felt Rachel’s naked body beneath him, and he needed to finish having her. She might have to die—or she might not. But it had been a long time since he’d had the satisfaction he needed, hurting a woman, listening to her beg.

  All he had to do was to wait until the right moment and get Kyle out of the picture, one way or the other.

  Fifteen

  “WHAT WAS THAT YOU WERE SAYING ABOUT SHANE GIVING Mallory a book of poetry and a wedding ring?” Kyle asked Rachel at three o’clock the next afternoon. She had just entered the apartment after presenting an “Employees—Your Best Assets” luncheon program to the Neptune’s Landing’s businessmen. After her Shane-experience, Rachel had wanted to see if any of the men overreacted to a woman dressed to kill in a short skirt and heels. Several of the men had chatted with her later, and she’d taken time with each one, noting his hair and the sound of his voice.

  Rachel had been focused on that grueling, tense time when she had arrived home. But a lean, muscular man wearing strips of her best white sheet around his ribs, low-slung jeans, and standing in high strappy heels, was the irrelevant topping on the past few earthshaking days. Kyle’s hands were on his hips, and one swollen eye had opened more than the other, but both were blue and fierce, pinning her. His eyebrows were drawn together in a scowl that must have hurt.