by BJ Wane
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kurt demanded to know.
“It means your girl didn’t just have an accident. There’s a bullet lodged in her front tire and one embedded too damn close to the gas tank to make this anything except a deliberate attempt on her life.” The fury in Grayson’s tone matched Kurt’s darkening, thundercloud expression.
Now what do I say? With her head and arm throbbing and the three faces staring at her turning blurry, Leslie closed her eyes and leaned her head back, unable to cope with anything right now except to reiterate no hospital. “I thought those sounded like gunshots, which is only one reason why I’m not going to the hospital.” Her voice emerged from her constricted throat as a reedy whisper but she opened her eyes to see they heard her just fine.
“You’re in no condition to make that decision,” Kurt snapped.
Grayson took charge by asking the medic, “Do you know where the Willow Springs clinic is, one street over from the town square?”
The young man nodded. “Yep. We can take her there as long as there is a doctor waiting.”
Catching on, Kurt whipped out his cell. “There will be. I’ll follow you.”
Leslie watched Kurt and Grayson turn away and heard Mitchell’s name before Kurt started conversing with the new doctor. If she weren’t so scared, and didn’t hurt so much, she might have gotten excited about the prospect of the hot doctor putting his hands on her. But as the EMT slid the gurney into the ambulance and then hopped in to join her with a rap on the side to get them going, all she could think about was the jeopardy she was putting everyone in.
The next two hours were the longest of Kurt’s life. Mitchell hadn’t hesitated to open the clinic on a Sunday afternoon, but friendship came second to his patient as soon as Leslie was wheeled into the exam room where the weekend nurse waited with him. After his friend shut the door in his face, he’d turned to find Grayson leaning against the wall, arms crossed, toothpick returned to his mouth, regarding him with a solemn expression.
“I need to know what you know,” he said.
“Yeah, well I need to know a hell of a lot more than that.” Unable to stand still, Kurt paced the hall, the quietness of the clinic grating on his nerves as much as the sheriff’s silent, watchful gaze. Frustrated, worried and scared to the bone, he finally whirled to face his friend and ground out, “She has a sister, haven’t a clue where or even what her name is. Her apartment is devoid of any personal articles and her life was lacking in personal involvement until I pressed her into an affair. Oh, and she likes animals but hasn’t owned a pet since she was a kid. There, does that help?”
“Now that you’ve got that out, why don’t we put our heads together and figure out who would want to harm her, or worse,” Grayson drawled.
Kurt went rigid with rage imagining someone deliberately setting out to kill Leslie, vowing right then and there not to let her out of his sight until the fucker went down. “Jesus, Monroe, I haven’t a fucking clue.” He sliced a hand through the air between them, swearing. “She’s a second-grade teacher, for God’s sake.”
“With a secret past no one knows anything about, an aloof manner when it comes to forming relationships or friendships and, according to you, she doesn’t even have a photo of her sister in her apartment. Want to know what I deduce from all of that?”
Put all together like that, Kurt could come up with only one possible answer, one that sent a frisson of unease slithering under his skin. “Witness protection?”
Grayson shrugged. “I could be wrong.”
“But you, we could be right, and it does explain a lot.” And added layers to his worry. “If they hear of this…”
“They’ll move her.”
“No one’s moving her anywhere for a while,” Mitchell said, stepping out of the exam room. “I caught the last bit of your conversation, and from Leslie’s expression, so did she. She has a concussion, which we knew. Her arm isn’t broken but badly banged up, as is her left hip and thigh. All in all, she’s damn lucky that’s it, but she needs rest.”
“Then I suggest the two of you help me convince her to come to my place while the Feds get this figured out. She’ll be safe there. I’ve got over fifty cowhands who are excellent shots and between the sensors along the fencing and hidden cameras everywhere, Grayson, you know how secure our property is.”
“Decision’s hers, but I’m willing to go to bat for you. Hell, we didn’t like partying anywhere on your land as teens because your security was too fucking good. I imagine it’s even better now.”
“Damn straight.” Kurt turned to Mitchell. “Can I go in now?”
“Be my guest. I don’t envy you the battle you’re in for.”
Now I have three stern-faced, determined Doms to contend with. Leslie shivered as she looked at the men entering the small room, their chiseled faces etched with stone-cold determination, their eyes showing varying shades of warm concern mingling with banked fury on her behalf. She could have staved off Kurt’s pushy insistence for answers if need be, but all three of them? She was doomed to reveal everything, and she knew it before a word was said. Grateful the nurse had already stepped out after helping her dress, her wobbly legs forced her to sit back down on the exam table.
“What?” she asked, stalling. Sheriff Grayson was as good at his job as sheriff as he was as a Master at The Barn. The pain shot Dr. Hoffstetter administered had already kicked in, but the woozy numbness it wrought wasn’t enough to deflect the forceful impact of those looks.
Kurt moved to her side and ran a hand down the back of her head and hair, the soothing caress tempting her to lean against him. But that would strip away the last of her defenses, so she forced herself to stay upright and worked up a teasing grin. “Sorry, looks like I’ll be late getting to your place.”
His hand tightened in her hair, his knuckles pressing against her nape, the grip holding her head immobile. “Not funny, Leslie. Why would someone deliberately shoot at you?”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Cutting right to the chase, aren’t you?”
“Do we have time not to?” Grayson growled.
Leslie succumbed to the inevitable. “No. I have to make a phone call and then,” her voice caught and she yanked her head hard enough for Kurt to drop his hand, “I have to leave. I’m sorry I brought this down on you.” Her gaze swept the three of them, but her words were for Kurt.
Mitchell continued to lean against the wall, staying silent but eyeing her with both medical concern and dominant frustration. Grayson crossed his arms and continued to glare, both of them leaving it up to Kurt to address that statement.
His eyes flashed with temper but his response, a blunt, emphatic, “No,” warmed her even as it got her ire up. Before she could vent, he surprised her by saying, “Call your liaison in Witness Protection and tell them you have a safe place to stay with me. Or better yet, let me talk to them. I have a few words to tell them about their ability to keep you safe.”
“How did you know?” The relief over having the secret out couldn’t prevent a cold slither of fear for him, and anyone else who came near her. If Glascott had sent someone after her, he wouldn’t get paid until he’d completed the job.
“It didn’t take long to figure it out once I found the bullets in your car.” Grayson took the few steps to her other side. “I can vouch for the security surrounding the Wilcox ranch which includes how many cowhands all proficient with a rifle?” He glanced toward Kurt.
“Fifty, at last count.” His black eyes bored into her. “They not only spend their days riding our property, they have to carry rifles and know how to shoot fast and accurately to keep our livestock safe from predators. A bear or cougar attack can spring without warning. Someone might be savvy enough to disable a sensor or avoid a camera, but alarms will signal such a breach, in the bunkhouse, main house and offices.” His voice turned gruff as he held out his hand. “Come home with me, sweetheart. We can discuss your plight further when you’re feeling better.�
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Mitchell spoke for the first time since re-entering the room with Kurt and Grayson. “You shouldn’t make any important decisions for the next twenty-four hours, and not while you’re heavily sedated, like you are now.”
Leslie knew when she was beat, only unlike four years ago when she’d railed and despaired over having to enter the program and forge a new life, this time, God help her, she was going to risk holding onto what she had for a little longer.
Ignoring the presence of Mitchell and Grayson, she gave Kurt her full attention, and her stipulation. “Fine, I’ll come to your place, but I’m not sleeping with you.” If the sheriff’s office and whatever help Grayson got from the Feds couldn’t stop this threat, and fast, she needed to prepare for leaving everything, and everyone she cared about again. She couldn’t do that if she and Kurt continued to grow closer.
Grayson snorted and walked out. Mitchell raised a sardonic brow before leaving them alone. Kurt was blunt and to the point. “Sweetheart, there’s never been any sleeping when we’ve been together. Let’s go.”
He was going to be difficult, Leslie knew it. That didn’t bother her, which meant she was already in deeper than she should be, or wanted to be.
Kurt swallowed his irritation over Leslie’s terms, not surprised she would try to pull back from their relationship. She’d agreed to his protection, and for now, that was enough. On the drive back to the ranch, he listened as she called the principal and arranged for an emergency leave of absence and then insisted she put it on speaker when she pressed the number for her Witness Protection contact. They indulged in a bit of a pissing contest, but he and Agent Summers came to a grudging agreement when Leslie spoke up with another provision, tacking on a two-week limit to her stay. By the time he drove through the gates onto his land, he could tell by her set face she wouldn’t budge on that.
“How far back does your property extend?” she asked as he pulled in front of the house.
“Farther than you can see. Don’t worry,” he added, seeing the look of consternation crossing her face. “I stand by what I said and told Agent Summers. You’re safe here, I’ll see to it.” Leaning across the seat, he cupped her nape and drew her forward for a deep, possessive kiss.
He nipped her lower lip before shifting back, his cock jerking as she licked over the bite with a narrowed eyed glare despite the definite pucker of her nipples under the blue knit top. “I told you, I’m not…” She clammed up as soon as he held up his hand, an immediate submissive response that he wasn’t above exploiting.
“As you can see, we’re not in position to sleep. Wait there and I’ll help you inside.”
Of course, she didn’t, opting to display her annoyance by sliding off the high seat of the truck. He got there just in time to catch her as her legs gave out, either due to pain or her drug-induced grogginess.
“You better get over this stubborn streak or another part of your anatomy will be smarting as much as your side and head.” The warning had the desired effect – she didn’t complain as he swung her up into his arms and carried her inside.
Leslie cast an uneasy glance around the large foyer and into the den. “I’m fine now. You can put me down.”
“Relax. No one is here today except my father, and he’s ensconced in his room at the other end of the house.” Kurt released her legs and let her stand but kept an arm around her waist.
“Is he doing any better?”
Her thoughtful concern after her ordeal helped ease his tension. If she could think of others so soon after such a traumatic event, she wouldn’t let herself crumble under another upheaval of her life. She’d shown the same considerate solicitude when he’d first told her about Leland in the hopes she would share more about herself. Now that she was here, he would have more opportunities to coax her out of her shell.
“He could be back in the saddle by now but refuses to put out the effort to get there. I don’t understand his attitude,” he admitted, leading her toward the hall. “He seems content to get by with the bare minimum of therapy and let Cory, his aide, or me help him otherwise. I’ll introduce you when you’re up to meeting him, just remember not to take any flak from him. You’ll be comfortable in here and there’s an attached bath.” He ushered her into the blue bedroom, glad she wasn’t the type of woman to gush over the obvious signs of wealth exhibited by the size of their home and property. Having suffered a trauma that landed her in Witness Protection, he imagined she’d learned what was of real value in life a long time ago.
Leslie turned to him all of a sudden, that familiar look of desolation and desperation clouding her eyes as she uttered in a fretful whisper, “Kurt, Sir, are you sure? I couldn’t bear it if someone on your ranch came to harm because of me.”
Her slip in addressing him as a sub revealed the effort it was taking for her to agree to stay here. One of those tight, uncomfortable sensations in his chest grabbed hold. The unaccustomed pangs started in the last week and the one now was the strongest yet. “You concentrate on recovering and let me worry about the safety of everyone here. That’s an order.” She opened her mouth then snapped it shut with a nod. “Good girl,” Kurt murmured, running a hand down her back before giving her ass a friendly pat. “Mitchell said for you to rest. I’ll check on you every hour this afternoon. In the meantime, think about what you want me to get from your apartment. Or I could take you into Willow Springs to pick up a few things. I’m sure word of what happened has already spread.”
She lifted a trembling hand to brush her hair back. “I’ll worry about all that tomorrow as long as you have a spare toothbrush and I can borrow something to sleep in.”
“Yes to both. Lie down, Leslie.”
Leslie waited until Kurt walked out, closing the door behind him, not needing the authoritative tone and command to give in to the stress and drug-induced weariness to stretch out on the double bed with a shaky sigh. A swath of sunlight streaming through the wall-dominating window splashed across her butt, the warmth adding to the little tingles from that light, friendly tap. If he continued with small, innocent touches like that, she was doomed from the get-go reverting their relationship into a platonic one.
Over the next few hours she heard him come in several times, felt him sit next to her and run his hand down her back and over her butt as she mumbled vague answers to his probing questions. By the time she blinked open her eyes all the way, an amber glow illuminated the background of the mountain view outside the window. Spotting the glass of water and pain pills on the nightstand, she downed two and then lay there a moment wondering what insanity had prompted her to risk everything by agreeing to stay here. And then she thought of leaving, starting over in a strange place, getting used to a new name and a new existence, and a slow burn of anger coiled through her aching body.
Fuck Edwin Glascott and his two murderous sons, she swore, rolling off the bed. She’d trusted Kurt when he’d been a stranger and again when she’d met Master Kurt. It didn’t surprise her she trusted the wealthy landowner with resources she couldn’t imagine to keep her safe. Padding over to the window, she took in the stables and barns across several acres beyond the landscaped lawn around the house. Even though it was Sunday, she could make out several ranch hands riding in the fields among a large herd of black cattle and noted the rifles either held across their laps or nestled in scabbards at their sides. Even those employees working around the outbuildings wore guns tucked into the back of their waistbands, and Leslie realized how seriously Kurt had taken the threat against her, and how fast he had moved to inform his employees.
The thought of something happening to him, or anyone else, added to her rage against the Glascotts even as it sent her pulse into a rapid, erratic beat of panic. Praying for a swift and final end to this threat, she turned from the window and padded into the bathroom. The royal blue towels and decorative tile in varying shades of blue that drew her eyes longingly toward the shower matched the soft, comfortable bedspread she’d rested on. After a quick face and h
and wash, she debated whether to hunt down Kurt and get something to eat or crawl back into bed. The loud rumble of her stomach as she left the bathroom settled the matter and she went in search of her host.
Instead of finding Kurt when Leslie reached the center of the house and took in the spacious great room, dining area and kitchen, an older man turned his wheelchair away from the bay of floor to ceiling windows to give her a cool, appraising once-over from eyes as coal-black as Kurt’s. He masked the bleak expression on his face as he’d gazed out the windows, his look turning sharp and angry. Tensing her shoulders, she braced for Kurt’s father to lay into her for bringing trouble to his son and ranch.
“You’re the one my son has been spending so much time with lately. He has enough to do without adding your problems to his responsibilities.”
Leslie regarded him coolly for a moment, deciding the best way to deal with a recalcitrant old man was the same as she would a confrontational second grader. Head on. Fisting her hands on her hips, she blinked back the encroaching wooziness from the pain meds before stating in a firm but polite tone, “Kurt doesn’t need you to run interference on his life for him. From what I’ve heard, all he needs from you is a little effort on your part to improve your condition.”
She almost laughed at the comical shock on his face, but then her heart rolled over as a look of hopeless despair entered his eyes as he swiveled his gaze toward a photo sitting on the fireplace mantle. Leslie didn’t need him to tell her the pretty young woman with coal black hair and striking blue eyes was his daughter, the sister Kurt mentioned who had died tragically in a car accident at the age of twenty. What did it say about her that she knew so much more about him than he did her and yet he never hesitated to offer his protection?
Leland’s gruff voice pulled her from regrets she couldn’t do anything about. “Kurt is outside but you shouldn’t wander out of the house without him by your side.”
