Captor Mine (Base Branch Series Book 13)

by Megan Mitcham

  She shoved from his chest and grabbed the edge of the coffee table for balance. The room rolled like an unforgiving sea. When it settled, Hunter sat on the edge of the couch ready to catch her if she fell.

  Who would catch him? She wasn’t capable.

  Kat buried her face in her hands and screamed as loudly as she ever had. The walls of her throat shook. The raw flesh ached as though she’d done it a thousand times. She wanted to run out the door and continue forever until nothing hurt.

  “Let it out.” Hunter sounded calm and unaffected by the wildness that peeled layer by layer of skin from her bones.

  “Why?” She shook her fist at the ground. One smacked the tabletop again and again. When her shoulder burned, she stopped, and tears pooled at her knees. “Why do I care about the death of a man who didn’t give a shit about me?”

  “For better or worse, kids always want the people who created them to love them. After all, they’re the ones who should love you more than any other person in the world. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. That’s what I hear anyway. It doesn’t always work out that way.” He pointed between them. “We know that.”

  “I knew my father. You never met yours.” Why was she complaining to a man who’d never known his parents?

  “Both our lots were shit. We made the best of them.” Hunter rested his forearms on his knees; real and robotic. “I was neglected.” His hands clamped into fists.

  “You were abused. I’d say yours was worse.”

  “I wasn’t abused.” Her spine stiffened. The room stilled. Anger boiled inside her, turning her blood to steam and giving her the energy to stand. “I wasn’t abused.”

  “Just because you weren’t physically or sexually assaulted doesn’t mean you weren’t abused.”

  “I wasn’t abused.” Kat slapped her hand to her chest like an ape.

  “Your father was a sick man.”

  “What did he do that was so bad? I want to know everything. Details this time.” He hadn’t murdered her or sold her. Other than leaving her alone, he’d provided her with an amazing life. She had a top-notch education. She had a career. She had a life. No, it wasn’t as exciting as Hunter’s, but it was her safe place away from the pain. She controlled what went on in her days, no one else.

  “Knowing those things won’t help you heal.” Hunter shook his head and stood.

  “Then what the fuck will?”

  Her scream stalled his approach. His amber eyes pivoted left and right, high and low. The tightness in his jaw fell slack, and his thick shoulders hunched. “I don’t know.”

  Kat stepped back, placing the short table between them. She bit back the tears that battered her lids and smacked at the ones rolling across her cheek.

  “Kat.” Hunter begged with only her name.

  “I have to get back to Baltimore.”

  “Kat.”

  Her head shook. Her whole body shook. “I can’t deal with this anymore.”

  “I thought we worked through this. Just talk to me, and we’ll figure it out.” He stepped forward.

  “No.” She threw her hands up and retreated two steps.

  He stopped. They stood in silence for a long time. No one moved. No one spoke.

  “Running away isn’t the answer.” He said it with such confidence she hoped he had an answer.

  “What is?”

  “I don’t know.” Hunter sat on the couch as though he’d taken the bullet meant for her father.

  Kat walked backward around an armchair. She couldn’t take the wounded expression on his face.

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I can’t stay.” Her fingers sunk into the cushioned wings. “You can’t either.” She looked around the second place they’d squirreled themselves away inside, hiding from the world. “This was amazing, the best time of my life, but it’s not real.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Look around, Hunter. This isn’t our life. This is what we needed to get through.”

  “And now?”

  “There’s too much here to stay.”

  Hunter stood. “There’s too much here to leave.” His voice shook the windows. He didn’t holler, but it rumbled deep like a storm in the distance.

  Kat eased around the chair and walked slowly to Hunter. His cheeks warmed her palms. She closed her eyes, pulled his mouth to hers, and seared the memory of his touch and taste in her mind.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Don’t thank me.”

  “Thank you for showing me I’m worth fixing.”

  “You’re not broken, Kat.”

  “I’m shattered, and as much as I’d love for you to put me back together again, that’s not something you can do. Only I can do that. It’s going to take time and many trips to the fifth floor.”

  “The fifth floor?” He lifted the hair from her eyes.

  “The mental health and wellness department in the building where I work.”

  “Kat, there’s—”

  “I love you, Hunter. As much as I know what love is, I feel it for you.”

  His mouth fell open as though she’d hit him with a defibrillator. He gulped and licked his lips. “Then why are you leaving?”

  “I’m an intelligent woman. Educated. I have a regular level of common sense. But I can’t admit that my father abused me.” Her tears came back, flowing full force. “It should be an easy thing to see, but I can’t. If I can’t do that, I can’t love you the way you deserve to be loved because I don’t know how to love myself.”

  “Are you telling me I need therapy, Doc?” He cupped her chin and lifted it until their gazes clashed. “Because I love you and I’m letting you go.”

  Five Weeks & Eight Intense Therapy Sessions Later

  Kat shoved through the operation room door convinced of two things. One, her patient would live. Sunshine and rainbows. Two, Hunter would never return her calls, and she’d lost the best thing that’d ever happened to her. Dark clouds and fry-you-to-a-crisp lightning.

  “Hey, Royan. Good to have you back.”

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Kat breathed deeply while she counted. Miracle of miracles, the crushing weight of hearing her father’s name didn’t flatten her into a pancake or even a sobbing mess. Three weeks back at work and the adverse reaction to her surname had faded to a manageable level. Thank you, Susan. The therapist might be expensive as all hell at two visits a week, but she was also totally worth it. Working helped her cope with the weight of the sewage she waded through.

  Adjusted, Kat turned to find Mike Webber shoving his way through the doors of OR two. She pulled the mask from her face and offered an appropriate smile that she hoped didn’t allude to the number of steps she’d taken to get it there.

  “Hey, Mike. I’m glad to be back.”

  “Was that your first surgery?” The tall, tan man swished his floppy hair toward the operating rooms she’d just exited. His brown locks were just long enough to be considered edgy while not crossing the line of professionalism. She’d seen him around but had only worked with him a couple of times before her sabbatical.

  “Third.”

  “What?” He offered her a smile that showcased white teeth and a wide mouth. “And I haven’t been on your team yet.”

  The anesthesiologist did decent work, but he wasn’t her favorite on staff by a long shot. He talked a lot during procedures, mostly about things she didn’t care about. Like his weekend activities, which sounded similar to Hunter’s…pre-coma.

  “Rogers has been with me since I started back on rotation. He hasn’t lost me a patient yet.” Kat walked steadily toward the stairs that would lead to her office.

  “Don’t tell me you have a thing for older men.” Mike reached above her head and opened the double doors that led into the main corridor. “After you.”

  She walked even though she was certain his eyes were on her ass. A smirk crept onto her lips. “Actually, no. I apparently have a thing for younger men.”

&n
bsp; “You know, I happen to be younger.” His footsteps caught up with hers.

  “So is the man I’m in love with.” Kat pressed the button for the elevator and waited for the car to arrive.

  “You’re killing me, Royan.” His hand covered his heart. “You leave right after I get here and come back all doe-eyed for some European.”

  The elevator doors opened revealing a half full car. Mike stepped into it without hesitation.

  “He’s American actually, through and through.” She waved Mike off as the doors closed.

  “A surgeon?”

  “A soldier,” she corrected as the gap narrowed to nonexistence.

  The first true blue smile arched her lips. It didn’t matter how many calls it took or how long. She would fight for Hunter just as much as she’d fought for him to survive. Her footsteps sped down the hallway, up two flights of stairs, and into the suite she shared with four other surgeons. Their assistant wasn’t behind her desk, but her messages could wait. She had another important call to make. If he didn’t answer, she’d just call again tomorrow. Eventually, he had to ans—

  Kat pushed through the door to find a primly dressed man and woman in her office. Their heads were close together. They were in such rapt conversation they didn’t notice her enter.

  She wasn’t expecting a meeting. People didn’t get inside without the code or her or her assistant, who was missing, letting them in.

  Her palms slicked.

  With shaking hands, Kat backed from the room. If she’d ignored the hospital’s rules about firearms and brought her pistol, this encounter wouldn’t be as terrifying. Her mouth thinned to nothing as she eased the handle back into position. She didn’t breathe until she was back in the main room, and that was only to call for her assistant…quietly.

  No one answered.

  Kat’s heart thumped. She hadn’t had a panic attack in weeks. It wasn’t time to have one again. Even if strangers in her secure office when no one was supposed to be in her office warranted one. She sucked in a breath and hurried to the other hallway. Her hand was up ready to knock on her colleague’s office when the bathroom door opened. Kitty stepped out, still adjusting the tight pencil skirt she wore.

  “Oh,” the young woman startled. “I’m sorry. Did you need inside?”

  The level of freak-out reined in by half or more at the sight of the other woman. “No. Who’s in my office?”

  The woman’s thin brows arched. Normally, Kat wasn’t so brusque, but when your dead father was an international criminal with goons on his payroll, you learned a little caution was in order. A little caution and a side arm. With caution, politeness took a hike. Tough shit.

  “Your two o’clock.” Kitty’s ultra-red lips pursed.

  “I don’t have a two o’clock.”

  “Shoot.” Her pump stomped the thin carpet. “I meant to tell you before surgery. Doctor…” She thumped her fingers to her lips several times. “Let me look.”

  Kat followed the woman down the hallway to her desk.

  “Dr. Masters from the Branch Clinic set up your two o’clock in reference to DNA.” Kitty shrugged. “I didn’t know you did that stuff. If you don’t have time to meet with them, I can tell them to leave.”

  The roaring of her heartbeat in her ears muffled the woman’s last sentence. “You said Dr. Masters from the Branch Clinic?” Kat wheezed.

  “I did, but like I said, if you want me to boot them—”

  “No. Thank you. I’ve got it.” Kat’s voice trembled.

  She had zero idea what was going on, but Hunter had sent these people to her. Just the distant connection sent her hopes soaring. They could be here to serve her with a restraining order, but until they said as much, Kat would take it as a positive sign. Hunter had thought of her.

  Kat rushed down the hallway and into her office. Again, the couple was so absorbed in their talk they didn’t notice her entrance. She took a moment to observe their interaction. There was excitement in their wide eyes and smiles but also nervousness. The middle-aged woman squeezed the man’s hand so hard her well-defined veins and hints of svelte muscles plumped on her forearms. The gentleman, who seemed slightly older than the woman, pressed a lock of the woman’s graying blonde hair behind her ear.

  They weren’t here for fertility treatment, that much was clear. Kat couldn’t think why Hunter would send these two to her office. Maybe they had a son in a coma. That field wasn’t her specialty, but neither was amputation, and she’d done all right. If it was in her power, she’d help them.

  The woman gasped. Her hand covered her mouth. Her husband—judging by the matching wedding bands and the way they interacted—lifted the hand he held to his chest and cupped her shoulder with the other.

  Emotion wafted off the couple in pounding waves. Kat breathed deeply, preparing herself for whatever horror story these two had to share, and stepped forward.

  “Hello. I’m Kat.” Since she’d been back, introducing herself as Dr. Royan seemed wrong. So she’d gone with the plain old Kat for weeks. Some people actually caught on and had been calling her by her first name. Not the old guard, though. Hence, therapy.

  The man stood and pulled his wife to her feet, though, of the two, she seemed the one inclined to hoist. As most older men did, this one sported the signs of a life indulgently lived. He looked too clean cut for beer. So she’d guess foods high in fat and sugar.

  “Hi, Kat. I’m Patrick Austen.” He extended his hand. Kat took his hand in hers and offered a shake longer than her usual. He looked like he could use it. A smile lit his eyes that turned to his wife. “This is my wife.”

  “Hi, Kat. I’m Trish Austen.” The woman offered her hand, and again, Kat extended her shake longer than normal.

  “It’s nice to meet you both.” Kat offered them to sit and rounded to her side of the desk and sat. Her feet ached from hours at the operating table, but she hid her grimace.

  “If you need a minute to put your feet up or grab a drink, feel free.” The man rubbed his knees as though experiencing sympathy pains. “Your receptionist said you were in surgery before this.”

  Kat studied Patrick Austen. Most people wouldn’t think twice about a doctor coming out of a surgery. They’d expect it to be a walk in the park. After all, they weren’t the ones on the table. “I’m sorry, but are you a surgeon?”

  His massive grin answered the question. “Retired, orthopedic.”

  “For thirty years.” Trish patted his thigh.

  “I’m sorry I’m not more prepared for our meeting.” She closed the file open on her desk and moved it aside. “A…”—the love of my life—“…friend of mine referred you to me, but I’m sorry to say I don’t know why.”

  Tears welled in Trish’s eyes. She blinked them away and nodded. The woman was well into her sixties, maybe even early seventies, but there was a youth and determination in her that moved Kat. Trish shifted to the edge of her seat.

  “Hunter called us a week ago, and then came to our home for a meeting just this week. He is truly a stunning man.”

  “Hey now.” Her husband poked her in the ribs.

  “Oh, you hush.” She shooed him away with a thin hand. “He is handsome as all get-out but even more so brave and kind-hearted.”

  Kat blinked back tears. He was all those things and so much more.

  “What he told us was quite a surprise, but more than that, it was an answer to a prayer I’ve never stopped repeating.” Trish drew a deep breath and seemed as though she counted to five and breathed again before continuing. “Patrick and I have been married for forty years. When you make the vows for better or worse, you never expect the worse. We’ve lived it for the past thirty-four years.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kat whispered.

  “Oh doll, it wasn’t your fault. And as much therapy as it has taken me, I know it wasn’t my fault, and it wasn’t Pat’s.” The couple held hands again.

  Kat had no idea where this was going. She wasn’t a marriage counselor. As it was,
she’d run away from the only man she’d ever loved.

  “I’m sorry, we’re not making much sense just yet.” Patrick scooted to the edge of his seat.

  “I’m getting to it.” Trish shooed him again.

  “You’re doing beautifully, dear.” He squeezed her hand.

  “When we’d been married two years, we decided to expand our family. Things were going so well. Pat signed on with a top-rated ortho clinic, and I’d taken an advisory position with the college. That’s the University of Delaware. We were ready, but my body wasn’t. It took two years and as many miscarriages, but finally, we had the most beautiful baby in the entire world.” Trish beamed.

  Kat smiled too.

  “We love her more than we’ve been able to express.” The woman swatted at a tear. “The next two years were the best of our lives. We rotated schedules and didn’t see each other much, but that meant we didn’t have to arrange daycare and could spend our time with our daughter.”

  Beside her, Patrick nodded.

  “At the beginning of my third semester as an advisor, the college offered me the opportunity to accompany students to Europe. I’d always wanted to go. By that time, Pat had worked enough that he had the vacation to take. So the three of us embarked on our first family vacation along with six college students interested in the exchange program.”

  Kat’s smile fell. Maybe it was her ties to Europe or the change in tone of Trish’s story or the way Pat moved closer to his wife. Whatever the reason, it had Kat’s stomach tied in knots.

  “We had an amazing trip. The students spent most of their days in the program at the local college, and we experienced France. Our daughter liked the bread shops best. Every day, she would hug a loaf of French bread from the shop closest to the housing they gave us next to campus all the way back to the steps. Only then would she turn it loose, and that was only so she could press the button that let us inside.”

  Despite the smile on the woman’s face, tears fell freely from her blue eyes. Her husband offered her a handkerchief. Kat’s heart skipped at the old-fashioned gesture. After she took it, he rubbed a hand over his mouth. When he spoke, his voice was gruff.