by Lana Grayson
This time, I had only one gift.
A dozen roses stashed in the window. Thick, crimson blossoms spilled from a crystal vase.
“Reed.” Nicholas answered before I asked.
“They’re beautiful.”
“Like I said, you looked…worse for wear. Especially with the cuts and bruises.”
I touched my cheek. It hurt as badly as my ribs. “Did you tell them my step-father molested and beat me?”
“We told them you fell down the stairs during the attack. Tripped over a glass statue.” He folded his hands and studied me. His gaze grazed my skin and rejuvenated everything that was struck.
“A statue?” Even laughing caused pain. “Hopefully there aren’t any more statues in my future.”
“That depends on you.”
“I doubt that.”
I coughed. Just a residual strain, but Nicholas offered me more water. He acted kind, but he didn’t sport the “care-partner” badge because he was my step-brother. He was no nurse. He was my warden. At least he didn’t fret as much as my real family.
Then again, he’d have to care about me to fret. His only concern was that I stayed alive and gave him the child he demanded. Didn’t matter if I was healthy, safe, or statue-free.
“It was a pleasurable kiss in the woods,” Nicholas said. “But I didn’t think you’d take it so hard.”
I choked on my water. First asthma, now drowning. I wiped the dribble from my mouth and muffled my profanity.
Nicholas’s smile was nothing like the harsh, violent menace of his father.
My heart thudded faster. The stupid monitors betrayed a quick blipping. Nicholas chuckled. I sipped the water again, tempted to spill it over his expensive suit, chiseled jaw, and perfect wave of dark hair.
Raising my arm took too much effort. I should’ve ordered him to dunk himself. Instead I leaned against the pillows and savored every freeing breath.
“Are you all right?” He asked. “I can call for the nurse.”
“Stop hovering. It’s unbecoming for a Bennett.”
“If you insist.”
I shifted. Nothing was more uncomfortable than staying in a hospital. I tugged on the blankets if only to distract myself from Nicholas’s scrutiny.
“Does my mother know I’m here?”
Nicholas lowered his voice, but that didn’t help. The smoothness of his words carried in the whisper—a warmed cocoa cadence that presumed it could solve any problem or subdue any opponent. And it probably could. I didn’t have the strength to defend myself, let alone battle a man who matched me bite for bite and then swallowed me whole.
“We didn’t tell her,” he said. “She knows you’re with us, but my father thought it best to wait until you were stable and at home before telling her—”
“No.”
“You have no choice in the matter, Ms. Atwood.”
I exhaled. It felt nice. “I don’t want her to know.”
“About the hospital?”
“The hospital or the attack. If she knew her only remaining child collapsed?” I hated to relive the memories as much as she did. “After Josiah and Mike…she’s not capable of handling this sort of emergency anymore. Not her sanity and certainly not her liver.”
“But she’s your mother.”
“She’s not my mother anymore. My father’s murder tore her to pieces. Obviously she’s not in the right frame of mind. Look at who she married.”
Nicholas nodded. “For what’s it worth, my father does seem to…admire her.”
“Every woman dreams of the moment a man finally admits that he admires her.”
“When my mother died, my father’s heart died with her.”
“Your father never had a heart.”
“He did for her,” Nicholas said.
“What about for his sons?”
He arched an eyebrow. “We’re off-topic.”
“I like this topic better.”
“If you’d rather not tell Bethany, I’ll respect your wishes.”
I smirked. “A first time for everything.”
“I wouldn’t get used to it.”
His phone vibrated from his pocket. He ignored it. He gestured to the oxygen line cast over the bed.
“You should be wearing that.”
“Florescent green doesn’t match my hospital gown.”
He picked it up, and I fell still. His hands brushed my ears, tucking the tube into place. His fingers grazed my cheek. I shivered. The monitor jumped again. My pulse fluttered ten beats higher.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.
Oh, yes, he would, in more ways than he intended. I shoo’ed his hands away and adjusted the oxygen myself—like an old pro.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the asthma?”
I hesitated. “It didn’t come up.”
He didn’t buy it. Neither did I. “It was important. The doctor said you’re on three different medications.”
Why would I have told the Bennetts I was sick? Should I have held a loaded gun against my head too?
I accidentally met his eyes. The warmth brushed over me like a sun-kissed field.
Not good.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of being your extended houseguest.”
Nicholas didn’t fall for the sass. “You will be a guest for quite some time. Though, I assure you, the stay can be as difficult or…pleasurable…as you wish.”
“You do know how to sweet talk an invalid.”
He laughed. “Hardly. You’re stronger here than half the men I do business with every day.”
“I bet you say that to all the asthmatic girls.”
“Only the ones who deserve the compliment.”
The damn monitor beeped quicker. I changed the subject.
“How’s Darius faring?”
His hesitation was worth the asthma attack. “He isn’t pleased by the turn of events.”
“Is he pissed I didn’t die?”
“More frustrated that you almost did.”
“I do love to disappoint him.”
The coughing bubbled from deep—a rattle that alarmed Nicholas. He stood.
“I’ll get a nurse.”
I shrugged. “It’s just inflammation. I’ll cough for a while.”
“You should sleep. I have work that will keep me occupied. You rest. I’ll be right here.”
Like I was that stupid. “How kind of you.”
“I only want you to be safe.”
“No. You want to guard me. To make sure I don’t toss a chair through that window.”
“We’re ten stories up. I don’t recommend rappelling in your condition.”
“But nothing is stopping me from pushing this…” I grazed the call button on my bed’s remote. “I could…find a nurse. Tell her everything.”
Nicholas expected it. The hard angles of his face shadowed against the glow of the monitors.
He folded his hands. “You haven’t yet.”
“No. I haven’t.”
“Why not?” The cautious edge in his voice pricked over me, sharpening as I dared to challenge him. “The nurses would believe every word. The doctors insisted on admitting you for multiple days, but my father argued and had a nurse fired as he demanded your immediate release into our private family physician’s care. I’ve pledged a new MRI machine to placate the staff for his behavior.”
“How charitable.”
“It was Reed’s idea. He believed we had enough hospital wings in our name.” Nicholas waited. I said nothing. “You’re returning to the estate. You can’t stop it, even if you push that button.”
“Maybe that’s what I want.”
He took the bait. “Why?”
“I haven’t finished what I started there.”
“And what’s that?”
“Proving Darius Bennett killed my father.”
Nicholas didn’t react. His contemplative, uncompromising stillness revealed nothing.
> “Do you really think we killed your father?”
I shook my head. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. He had cancer. Bad. But he fought it because he was strong and said he’d beat it. And he did. So he went into remission, and the doctors cleared him. But he goes to work one day?” My voice trembled. I swallowed, hard. “He goes to work and then dies in his chair. A Pepsi in front of him.”
Nicholas waited.
“He never drank anything but Coke a day in his life.”
“Hardly the cause for a murder allegation.”
“The autopsy was inconclusive, but an hour before he died, he left my brothers a voicemail telling them he loved them. He believed something was going to happen to him, and he made sure they knew how he felt before...”
Nicholas nodded. “Did he speak with you?”
My chest hurt. Not the asthma. “No.”
“What do you hope to find?
“Anything that would prove Darius had something to do with his death.”
My finger rubbed the call button, brushing the pad in tight circles. Nicholas watched, waited. I considered my options.
Press the button. Scream at the nurse to bring the police. Have the Bennetts escorted from my room and locked behind bars.
Get lost in endless legal battles over kidnapping charges and their denials and defamation law suits.
Destroy what remained of my mother as I accused her husband of a conspiracy to rape.
Spend my life in whispers and lies as the business community, the Atwood social circle, the media, and the world gossiped about my ordeal.
I’d never get close to the Bennetts again. They’d serve time, but not for the crime I knew they committed. It wouldn’t be enough. Not until Darius confessed or until a jury formally proclaimed him guilty.
But for that to happen, to see my father’s death avenged, I couldn’t lose the opportunity I had. If I stayed, I had the freedom to wander their house, get closer to Nicholas, Max, and Reed, and search for the evidence the police refused to believe existed.
“This is the second and last time I will ever ask a Bennett for help,” I said.
“This Bennett has a name, Ms. Atwood.”
I drew an unsteady breath. “Nicholas, I need your help.”
“What do you want me to do, Sarah?”
I vaguely remembered him using my real name, calling to me, keeping me awake until they delivered me to safety. His caramel voice rumbled over the word, soft and silken and spoken with such familiarity it flushed my cheeks. I imagined how it would sound breathless, whispered in the masculine growl that he uttered while pinning me in the woods.
The monitor beeped again. If I had the strength, I would have tossed my pillow over my face and willed myself to suffocate again.
I was too tired to fight him. Too tired to rationalize my trembling so near to him.
I remembered my last gasp of air before collapsing. It laced with his scent—sharp and clean and rugged. I still tasted his lips, reveled in his spiciness, and warmed where his hands had captured me.
“I won’t tell a soul what’s happening,” I said. “Promise.”
“I doubt you’ll keep that promise once I take you.”
My stomach fluttered. I wished I hadn’t already imagined my step-brother in such a way. It wasn’t just wrong because he was an enemy. Nothing in our perverted arrangement made sense. Having those thoughts were as morally reprehensible as what they planned to do to me.
“You will help me find enough evidence to convict your father,” I said.
“You’re asking me to betray my family.”
“Only Darius.”
“He’s still family.”
I tilted my head. “So am I, and yet you threaten to harm me.”
“Not threaten. Promise.” He wasn’t teasing. “But you aren’t Darius Bennett.”
“He’s not a father. He’s a monster. He wants you to rape me. To impregnate me. You watched him mistreat, hurt, and humiliate me. Help me find the evidence to put that lunatic behind bars, and I won’t say a word about this insanity.”
“That won’t stop what we plan to do to you.”
“Screw your plan. I don’t care if you rape me. Avenging my father is more important than whatever happens to me.”
For the first time, his professional, composed façade cracked. “Are you serious?”
My teeth chattered. I blamed exhaustion, but it was the memory’s fault. I gripped the thin blanket and shivered.
“When I was twelve, I went with my father to tour one of our cattle facilities in Nevada. The dust caused an asthma attack. We were far from the hospital. I died twice in the ambulance and once when they finally had me in an emergency room. I was gone for three minutes. Completely flat-lined. The doctor almost called it.”
He listened, intently. “That must have been terrifying.”
“It wasn’t my first attack, but it was my worst.”
“You’re very strong, Sarah.”
I didn’t feel much like it now. “Do you know what I saw while I was dead?”
Everyone wanted to know, but no one believed the answer. Somehow, I knew Nicholas would.
“What did you see?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
His expression fell. So did mine. I tugged the blankets higher and looked away.
“Everything faded, like I fell asleep. And then instantly, I was back. There was nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Without a doubt.” I swallowed. “This life is my only life, Nicholas. And I’ll do everything I can to survive it. I’m not ready to be…nothing yet.”
“Sarah—”
“My father’s life was stolen. I can’t bring him back. I’ll never see him again, and for that crime, I will not rest until I get justice. I’ll fight you with every breath my body allows.”
“I believe you.”
I met his stare and strengthened into the same stone that sealed him in stillness. “If you plan on raping me, I’m prepared to battle. But if you succeed and get me pregnant?” I lowered my voice. “Imagine how hard I’ll fight if I am defending my child.”
Nicholas frowned before standing. He leaned over me only so he could whisper, only so he could listen as the betraying monitors revealed just how fierce my heart beat within his arm’s reach.
“I admire your courage,” he said. “But you don’t have to fight me.”
“Will you let me go?”
I pressed against the pillow as he encroached too close. I held my breath, but my aching lungs punished me more than his crisp scent. Nicholas’s spice overwhelmed me. I stilled.
“Once I take you, Sarah, you won’t want to leave.”
“You overestimate yourself.”
“You underestimate how much you’ll enjoy it.”
I pushed myself forward, though the effort ripped every last bit of strength from my body. I trembled, but I wasn’t sure if it was the illness or how close I was to him.
“You can force me if you like,” I whispered, “but I’ll never enjoy anything you do to me.”
“Trust me, Sarah.” Nicholas dared to graze his lips against mine. I jerked away before my breath shuddered as badly as the sensations in my core. “One night in my bed and you will be begging me for your release.”
He kissed me again, the lightest flutter against my lips. I froze. In the wilderness, he attacked. Forced me against trees and bound my wrists in his hands to keep me still.
This kiss wasn’t a threat. He promised every word he said with the gentle, compassionate nibble.
He promised to rape me.
He promised I’d enjoy it.
I shivered a good shiver, but I was too exhausted to rub the goose bumps from my arms.
“I won’t give in,” I whispered.
“You already have.”
I blushed as the door kicked open. I fell against the pillows. Nicholas stood.
Since when did the hospital pipe in hot air through the oxygen syste
m?
Nicholas offered, but Max refused his help unloading the bags and packages tucked in his arms. I gripped the blanket. Reed, I could probably handle now. But after the kiss and the confusion and all the wicked and evil and sensual words Nicholas whispered, I couldn’t fight two dangerous Bennetts at once.
I didn’t understand Max at all. He hardly spoke to me. I thought he resented my kick to his leg, but he limped too heavily for that. A lifelong injury must have bothered him, even if he was built like some of Dad’s old-school, indestructible tractors. He’d be handsome if he dared to smile like Reed.
He dumped a box of fast food onto the side table—a variety of brands and types, pizza and burgers, salads and tacos. While Nicholas tidied the spilled French fries, Max unfolded a blanket. He didn’t ask before covering me with the softest, fuzziest, most unbelievably pink throw. He put the teddy bear on the bed last.
Not one purchased from the hospital gift shop.
An expensive, plush bear…dressed in overalls with a straw hat.
“A farmer bear?” I didn’t know what to say. “What is…”
“Hospitals are cold.”
So was he, even loaded with presents.
“I spent a lot of time in hospitals after my surgeries,” he said. “Thought you could use this.”
I was in love with the blanket. I nodded.
“And hospital food is trash,” Max said.
Nicholas poked through the bags. “So you brought her junk?”
“Whatever the hell she wants. We’re getting out of here tomorrow anyway.” Max hesitated. He lost the suit jacket and tensed in just the vest and dress shirt. Every muscle flexed. “Good night.”
He left before I could even thank him.
He left before I could ask him not to leave me alone with Nicholas. Not because I didn’t trust him, but because I couldn’t trust myself. I was too tired to suppress my attraction. Too tired to think rationally.
“Are you hungry?” Nicholas asked.
“Not in the least. What—”
“My brother isn’t much for conversation.” He moved the food from the tray, though I snagged a cup of French fries before they escaped. “But he’s worried.”
I snuggled in the blanket. He didn’t look worried. He seemed inconvenienced. Impatient.
Thoughtful.
“You should rest.” Nicholas pulled his phone and flicked through emails. “Especially if we’re taking you home tomorrow. Our private doctor is good, but the estate isn’t a hospital.”
