Love Under Three Valentinos [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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Love Under Three Valentinos [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 7

by Cara Covington


  Her home was her sanctuary.

  “You’re too smart not to know this is likely connected,” Travis said.

  “I want to see. And I need some clothes.”

  Travis shook his head. He pulled out his cell phone. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it. But I think, for the time being, you need to stay away from there.”

  “All right.” For the first time in a very long time, Kat wanted to curl into a ball and cry her eyes out.

  And that just completely pissed her off.

  * * * *

  “I’ll be by tonight,” Travis said. “I’ll bring some photos of your apartment with me so you can see the damage. In the meantime, if you think of anything else that you might need, you can text me. Don’t call the Division, Kat, I mean it. Text me.”

  “Paranoid much?”

  Hearing Kat’s bit of sarcasm lifted Wesley’s spirits. For the first time since he’d walked into the exam room and seen what a couple of assholes had done to her, he felt she was going to be all right.

  “Babe, let’s all be paranoid for the next little while, all right?” Lucas’s tone worked on their woman like nothing else could. She sighed and laid her head back against the hospital bed.

  It hurt Wesley to see her hurting.

  They’d hit her face, a couple of bruises and swelling on her right cheek and under her right eye telling that tale. But she was having more than a little trouble moving on the bed, and he shuddered to think of what else they had done to her.

  He knew he wasn’t the only one who needed to see what other bruises and injuries she carried. He and his brothers were of one mind. They wanted to cosset her, care for her...and then, they wanted to avenge her.

  Kat was being released shortly, and that was the most important thing. Dr. Pawley was getting them a list of do’s and don’ts for concussed patients. Travis Bannister, the one member of the LAPD that they’d built a friendship with, had let them all know that he was in charge and was taking what had happened to her very seriously.

  Wes and his brothers had used Travis as a sounding board and advisor for a couple of their scripts, and since they’d hit it off, they’d remained friends.

  Having him here, now, when the safety of their woman was in question, was a definite bonus.

  Wes didn’t know what to think about the fact that Travis and Kat’s brother were friends, too. He decided to chalk it up to the myriad connections one found in life when following the right path.

  A nurse entered the room with a wheelchair, a paper bag on the seat. The doctor returned and handed some papers to Lucas, who folded them and put them in his pocket.

  They were letting her go home in the scrubs that they’d lent her. They’d had to cut her jeans and tee shirt off her—standard procedure because they hadn’t known where her injuries were. Wesley took possession of the paper bag. What was left of her clothing, along with her purse, was inside.

  He stood back, feeling helpless as she waved off their assistance. It took her a bit to sit up and then get into the chair. Pain drew a deep crease across her face. He’d moved subtly so he was standing beside the chair.

  Lucas squatted down and put her shoes on her.

  “We’ll see you shortly, love.” Wes bent over Kat and gave her a very light, too brief kiss. Paul cupped her face and did the same. Travis handed her a pair of sunglasses and a ball cap. She frowned, but put them on.

  “Yeah, I’ll see you shortly.” Then she looked up at Lucas, who’d taken control of her chair. “Chauffeur, let’s rock and roll.”

  He and Paul stood—with Travis beside them—and watched Lucas wheel Kat out of the ER.

  Since she was wearing that improvised disguise, it was doubtful anyone with eyes on the place would recognize her.

  Travis had arranged for an unmarked car to tail Lucas to determine if anyone else was following them. Travis planned to accompany him and Paul to where Kat had left her SUV.

  Wesley had the keys, and the plan was for him to drive it to a warehouse in Santa Monica—where it would then be loaded onto a truck, which would then take it to their house in Malibu Canyon. It had occurred to Paul and to him, too, that someone could be watching her car, to see where it went. The attack on her had been interrupted. It could very well be that whoever had hurt her wanted to finish the job. Paul had nodded to him, and he’d stepped out of the room and made a phone call.

  Travis and the LAPD weren’t the only ones who could make arrangements.

  Kat wouldn’t be able to drive for a couple of days anyway, so they would wait until dark and put her car in their garage.

  As soon as their woman was out of sight, Paul turned to Travis. “I won’t echo Kat’s accusation. I’m feeling very paranoid myself because she’s our woman. I’m going to assume that there’s a different reason for your precautions.”

  “Let’s ride. I’ll fill you in, as much as I can, along the way.”

  The three of them got into Paul’s Caddy. Wesley got into the back, letting their cop friend ride shotgun.

  The man settled in and began to talk, but Wes could see he divided his attention between conversation and scanning the traffic around them.

  “Word on the street is there’s been a gang ouster in south LA Someone new is calling the shots.”

  “A new kid in town?”

  “Yeah,” Travis said, “And it’s not looking good for anyone. At least with Los Príncipes, the gang that previously claimed that bit of territory, we knew what we were dealing with. Nobody knows much about the group that’s moved in—and I use the word ‘group’ very loosely.”

  “What the hell does that have to do with Kat?” Paul asked. “Her office is downtown, and she goes after fugitives with high-dollar bounties on their heads.”

  “And she got one just yesterday. A little twerp by the name of Paolo Luna. A bail jumper and recent recipient of a murder warrant for his part in a drive-by a few weeks ago. Hoping to head off a gang war—because the person he’s suspected of killing was from a rival gang—the powers that be authorized ten grand, which is a huge reward.”

  “And Kat apprehended him?” Wesley asked.

  “Yes, in broad daylight and in the middle of the turf in question in south LA” Bannister shook his head. “Leave it to Kat to go where not only angels but devils fear to tread.”

  Wes didn’t want to think about that too hard. Woman needs a damn spanking, putting herself at risk like that. He let the thought settle on the backburner.

  For right now, he put his focus on the situation and what Bannister had said. “You figure that’s what that bastard meant when he told her—” It was hard for Wes to even recall the words she’d said, knowing that when she’d heard them she was being beaten.

  What I wouldn’t give for a few minutes alone with those bastards.

  “When he warned her to keep her nose out of other people’s business? Yeah.” Travis sighed. “It just could be that this new group was sending a message not only to her, but to the rest of the gang—a ‘this is what happens when you cross me or mess with mine’ kind of message. And while Kat’s not a cop, to these people she wears the same hat.”

  “Which means the guy in charge of this new gang did something ballsy, going after her the way he did.” Wes let out a breath. He and his brothers had done some research into the gangs in the city—some, but not a lot.

  “Exactly—and that might be all there is to it. But breaking into her apartment? Trashing the place? That’s a whole other level. That’s personal.”

  “It’s also very disturbing,” Wesley said. “Because one of the things she told us is that she keeps her home separate from her job. Anyone needs to contact her, they have the office number. She keeps her home phone number and her address completely confidential. Her name isn’t even on the mailbox.”

  “She even has all her personal mail delivered to a rented box,” Paul said. “To be honest with you, I thought she was just being as anal as I am, the way she detailed how she had things arrang
ed. Now I’m thinking she did all that to avoid the very thing that happened to her apartment today.”

  “I’ve got my snitches on the street asking around. They’ll be subtle. I’m going to try and get in touch with them before I come out tonight. How long do you think you can keep her at your place?”

  Paul met Wesley’s gaze in the rearview mirror. Wes recognized that look, and when his big brother raised one eyebrow, Wes answered for them both.

  “For as long as we need to. She gets reluctant? We have handcuffs.”

  Travis laughed. Then he nodded. “Yeah, with Kat, you might need them.”

  Wesley thought that was very likely a given.

  Chapter 7

  Kat opened her eyes when the SUV came to a stop. She started to sit up without thinking and had to bite back a groan.

  Every inch of her body hurt.

  “I’m going to go and unlock the door. Then I’m going to come back here and carry you inside.” Lucas moved so that he could see her face and she could see his. No one had let her have a mirror yet. She winced, imagining the mess this good man was looking at right now.

  “No protests, okay, babe? I ache just looking at you.”

  “I thought it must be a pretty ugly sight.” For reasons she couldn’t explain, his words stung.

  “No, you misunderstood. There’s not an ugly inch on you, Katrina Lawson. I ache because someone did that to you—and I wish they’d done it to me, instead.”

  He leaned closer and kissed the tip of her nose. She watched him as he did exactly as he said he would, not a bit surprised that the sight of him as he approached turned blurry. Then he was back and had her door open and seatbelt off before she could think of anything to say.

  “Come on, babe. Let’s get you inside.”

  He slid his one arm under her legs and the other around her back. Kat didn’t even feel the urge to protest the chivalry, to say that she could walk on her own.

  The truth was she really couldn’t, not without making her injuries scream.

  Lucas managed to close the door to the SUV with his ass and the front door of the house with his foot. Then he carried her into the parlor but didn’t, as she expected, settle her into one of the comfortable recliners.

  He settled himself in one, set her on his lap, and drew her in so she leaned against him.

  “Don’t fight the tears, Katrina. Go ahead and let ’em go. You’ve earned them.”

  She didn’t think she really would, and then the first sob tore out of her. And then the next, and the next, as the floodgates opened.

  He surrounded her with his quiet strength and his low, gentle sounds that weren’t even words. This was why it had been Lucas she’d asked for. She needed all three of the Jessops, but Lucas was the one she’d thought of as a teddy bear. Lying alone in the ER, hurting both physically and emotionally, more than a little afraid, she’d needed her very own personal teddy bear to comfort her.

  Something about him got to her in a way that was different from the way his brothers appealed to her. She and Lucas had connected on a purely emotional level. He somehow managed to reach that part of her she’d kept locked up tight for years.

  How amazing that each one of them seemed to mesh with a part of her personality. How foolish she’d been to think, even for a moment, that she could enjoy these men and not get emotionally involved with them.

  The storm of tears ebbed, and still she lay against Lucas, wallowing in his heat and his tenderness. Each breath she took shuddered in, dragging air into her lungs and exhaustion into her soul. He kissed the top of her head and remained quiet. His large hand stroked her back, the rhythm more hypnotic than anything she’d ever experienced.

  Kat knew she dozed, and that was fine. Who had she ever let see her be this vulnerable? No one. That was something she’d guarded against fiercely. And yet, she couldn’t regret that this man saw her completely unraveled. She only wished that Paul and Wesley were here, too.

  Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

  A dreamlike haze enveloped her. Her pain eased, likely only because she hovered on that fine line between wakefulness and sleep. Sounds seemed far off, except for one. The solid beating of a strong male heart under her ear soothed, comforted, and, she was certain, healed.

  “Is she asleep?”

  “No.” Kat’s whispered response elicited another stroke down her back. That, like the question, had been Paul’s. They’re home. She mentally sighed, pleased that knowledge only added to her comfort. She stayed where she was, eyes closed, content, at least for a few moments more, just to listen.

  “Everything go all right?” Lucas asked.

  “It did.”

  “I picked up a tail, but I was able to ditch it.” Wes sighed. “Likely the fact that I drove to Santa Monica had something to do with that.”

  “Turf laws,” Lucas said. “If Kat’s assailants were from a particular gang, they might very well have been reluctant to cross lines.”

  “Yeah. Travis’s contacts spread the word about a possible incursion.” Paul’s voice sounded close. “So the other gangs would have been on alert.”

  “I need to sit up.” It was time to step back into reality. Kat opened her eyes. Both Paul and Wes were right there, helping her, until she was sitting upright on Lucas’s lap.

  She looked at each of them. “I need to snuggle with you, too.”

  “Then you will. But there’s something we need to do first, and I think you might not like it.”

  Paul’s stance underscored his words. He stood, hands in his pockets, looking a little unsure of himself, yet determined. The uncertainty worried her because she would have sworn “unsure” was not an attitude he’d ever adopt.

  It wasn’t one of yours, either, until today.

  Kat told her inner voice to shut up. She didn’t need to be attacked by her own inner imp just right now.

  “What do you need to do?”

  “We need to see.”

  Kat didn’t need an explanation. He was right. She didn’t like it. A part of her wanted to demand to know what gave them the right to do this. But the rest of her—the wounded part of her—knew she’d given them that right when she’d called them.

  It hadn’t been her mother, or father, or either of her siblings she’d had the ER nurse call. She’d asked for Lucas and, by extension, his brothers.

  She wore only the green scrubs the hospital had loaned her and her panties. She swallowed. “All right. But is there someplace with a full-length mirror? I need to see, too.”

  They helped her stand up, their gazes fixed on her face, likely judging the amount of pain that action caused. Maybe in a day or two, when she’d had time to rest, to heal, she could get back to controlling her facial expressions.

  Just now, and with these men, that was a pretense she didn’t really want to invoke.

  “We thought to let you use the guest room. There’s a full-length mirror in there.”

  She nodded and moved, albeit slowly, in that direction.

  She had to mentally brace herself before she looked, but it didn’t help. “Oh God. What a mess.” She’d known she looked bad, could feel the swelling, the cut above her eye, and the soreness of her lip. She just hadn’t translated that to a visual.

  Wesley joined them, a robe in his hands.

  The scrub top was really big on her. She reached for the bottom of it, but Paul covered her hands with his.

  “Let us, sweetheart,” Paul stepped in front of her and, like his brother had, kissed her nose. “Please don’t let us hurt you.”

  “Okay.”

  Lucas stood behind her, and together, they were able to raise her top and get her arms out of the short-sleeved garment without it hurting very much. Since it had a wide V-neck, getting it over her head was not a challenge.

  Paul’s gaze turned icy, and she knew the anger she saw there was directed toward her attackers.

  He said nothing, just squatted down to remove the green pants. She could have looked at her ow
n reflection then but, instead, kept her gaze on him.

  He left her panties on her and slowly rose to his feet. “Oh, Kitty-Kat. I want to kill someone for this.”

  He moved so she could see her reflection. The bruising was ugly—her ribs, her hips, even the tops of her thighs. She tried to turn to see the back but couldn’t quite manage it.

  “You don’t have any marks on your bottom or your kidneys,” Lucas said.

  She wasn’t surprised, really. She’d been on the ground on her back, being held down, unable to move...she let the thought go.

  “Here, angel.” Wesley helped her into a very large chocolate-brown robe. He tied it loosely, and the garment nearly swallowed her. She smelled his scent on the material and felt comforted.

  “I want to take a shower.” She didn’t exactly feel dirty. There had been absolutely nothing sexual in the attack itself, despite some of the words one of them had hurled. But she could feel the blood that had caked in her hair, the result of that cut above her eye that had bled so badly while she lay on the sidewalk...

  Kat pushed the image away.

  “Doable, if you let us shower with you.” Paul lifted her chin, his touch infinitely gentle. “The doctor told us that you’re a fall risk, so we can’t let you shower alone. But there’s an awesome shower and Jacuzzi here. I think both will help you feel better. And we’ll even put on our swim trunks so you’ll feel safe.”

  “I do feel safe here, with you. But...maybe you’d better do that, so I won’t be tempted to take shameless advantage of you.”

  She could have told them the idea of sharing a shower and a hot tub turned her on, which it did. But that would have to be a hunger left unfulfilled for now.

  She was in no shape for sex.

  “Okay. But, babe?” Lucas ran his hand down her hair. “I speak for all of us when I say, the moment you feel up to it, please feel free to take shameless advantage of us.”

  They were grinning at her, and she couldn’t even laugh the way she wanted to without hurting her lip. But she managed a small smile.

  “Don’t worry. I will.” And even though her words made her inner voice of caution throw out warnings of impending deep emotional entanglements, it was a promise she had every intention of keeping.

 

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