Sexual Healing [Contemporary Cowboys 1] (Siren Publishing LoveEdge)

by Natalie Acres

  Rolling to her back, she stared at the ceiling and awaited the verdict. The general consensus would range from Brianna had been trashed to she’d been at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

  Fact was Brianna had chased down trouble like it was her last chance for a real good time. She had a feeling Gemma was about to tell the others precisely what had happened.

  “How’s she doing?” Coco’s raspy voice filled the air.

  “She’s resting,” Nory said.

  Brianna laid perfectly still waiting to see who spoke next. When she couldn’t hear anything, she crept over to the window and rested her chin on the windowsill, peering down on her sisters and hoping they couldn’t see her. She willed them to speak freely, but instead they sat there silently. No one uttered a sound.

  Finally, Drina said, “Gemma, what happened exactly?”

  “Don’t do that,” Gemma said. “Don’t you dare point your condescending finger at me. You left us. When you hauled ass out of that club like you didn’t give a damn what happened, you lost the advantage of being privy to information.”

  “Not when one of our own was nearly killed!”

  The area fell silent again.

  “Listen to us, why don’t you. We sound like Father.” Coco stood up and paced in front of the pool’s shallow end.

  “So what’s next? Do we pick up the phone and call someone to come to Tennessee and handle the problem? I mean, revenge is in our genes. No one would fault us for taking matters into our own hands.”

  “No, Gem,” Drina snapped. “We handle this matter ourselves.”

  Drina and Gemma were mobster daughters through and through, but their differences were distinct. Drina talked a mean fight, but she wouldn’t throw the first punch. Gemma would strike from the back, come in low and hard, and leave the scene before anyone saw her.

  “Daddy might come home,” Nory said, that air of hope lingering in her voice.

  The youngest of five, Norina, much like Drina, believed their father was a victim of circumstance. He hadn’t seen them in well over three years and the last time he’d visited home, it was in the middle of the night.

  He’d snuck in the week after Christmas, planning to leave packages underneath a bare tree, but instead found Nory sleeping next to the fireplace. Selfish enough to restore her hope so he could then destroy it again, he picked her up and carried her to the sofa. When she awoke, he told adventuresome stories, tales of living overseas in a dangerous, but beautiful land, where the sun was such a brilliant orange, it was blinding to the naked eye when it rose over the desert sand.

  Son of a bitch had been living in Detroit. His last known residence was a twenty-thousand-square-foot compound with putting greens, tennis court, and an indoor pool.

  “Alberto isn’t coming home,” Coco said bitterly.

  “You don’t know for sure,” Drina said.

  Coco put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. “If he didn’t attend any of our graduations, why on earth would he show up now?” Coco shook her head. “He probably doesn’t even know what happened to Brianna, much less care.”

  Brianna gulped. The truth in her sister’s statement hit hard and fast, striking with an instant blow that left her eyes watering.

  “I don’t know why you’re so hard on him, Coco.” Nory stood. “When he was here a few years ago, he told us all. He wanted nothing more than to spend his life looking out for his family, but he made the ultimate sacrifice and stayed out of sight so he could still provide for us.” She pointed at the fields. “Look at this place. If Dad had come home and faced his charges, we wouldn’t be here now. He’s out there working for us. He isn’t here because he can’t come back. If he does, he’ll face murder charges for a crime he didn’t commit!”

  Once again, the silence fell over them like a dark cloud looming, just waiting to empty its very core with a hard-pounding rain. The longer it was quiet down below, the more her older sister would have time to seethe. If Brianna had been placing bets with her bookie, she would’ve quickly thrown down her cash on Coco.

  “Nory, sit down,” Drina said gently.

  “No. I won’t sit here and listen to you throw accusations around about Dad when we should be more concerned about Brianna. Somebody out there wants her dead. Looks to me like you would want to know who rather than sit there and talk about something that doesn’t even matter right now. We don’t know where Dad is so it’s pointless to guess whether or not he even knows what has happened!”

  “That was well said, child.” A man’s voice filled the air. “And spoken like your mother.”

  “Kane!” A collective welcome embraced their mom’s first cousin before each one of her sisters did the same.

  Brianna fell against the floor with her back against the wall. Great. Just f-ing great. Kane Cartwell was there and that could only mean two things. One, their father had indeed been aware of what had happened and hadn’t bothered to come and check on her for himself. And two, their much-coveted freedom was about to smash into a massive boulder.

  Kane’s appearance there was certainly significant. Apparently, her father had read something more into her attack. Now, Kane was there to intervene. He’d throw that Cartwell weight around. He’d make a few threats, throw a few punches, and just act like a badass without a cause.

  She grimaced. A stubborn, aging badass at that.

  He’d take names. He’d want numbers. Then, all hell would break loose.

  Chapter Four

  “Darling, if I’d only known you’d wanted to come with us of course you would’ve been invited.” Peyton Cartwell tossed some eggs in a bowl like she intended to scramble them shell and all.

  She secured her phone between her shoulder and ear while preparing breakfast like a pro. She flipped a few pancakes, tossed handfuls of veggies on top of an omelet, buttered some bread, and threw a plate of uncooked bacon into the microwave.

  “Yes, of course you would’ve been welcome.” She cleared her throat and stopped dead in her tracks. Tossing a red-and-white checkered towel over her shoulder, she asked, “Trixie, why are you asking me all these questions?”

  Brianna quietly took a seat at the kitchen table. She had a throbbing headache and had meant to grab some juice and head back upstairs, but the alluring breakfast scents took her back to another time. Her mother had been a wonderful homemaker and she loved to cook. Brianna’s older sister, Coco, had been named after a world renowned Italian chef. Still, it had been years since a full-scale breakfast had been prepared in their kitchen.

  “Uh-huh. Well, if your sister is spreading rumors about me and your father....” Her voice trailed and she burst out laughing. “Let’s see, what was it that you said to me the night you were arrested and Braden bailed you out?” She paused, licked her finger, and acted deviously suspicious. “Oh, that’s it. Now I remember. You said you didn’t do it. Later, after you had children of your own, you said you were guilty as charged.”

  She set the phone down on the counter and hit the speaker option. “Mother!” Another spunky voice filled the room. “Were you not embarrassed?”

  “Why of course not. Why would I be? I was with my husband—your father, which is why this is uncomfortable to talk about—and it isn’t as if we invited spectators to watch. We didn’t sell tickets. We were in the privacy of our own car. We weren’t bothering anyone else and—”

  “And you stopped for a booty call at the overlook? Nice.”

  Peyton sighed, placed the back of her hand against her forehead, and muttered in a barely audible voice, “It would’ve been if we hadn’t been arrested.”

  “You were arrested?” Nory crept up on Peyton in the kitchen.

  “Nory! Oh my goodness. I didn’t see you standing there, sweetheart,” Peyton said, her cheeks turning pink.

  Nory turned and pointed at Brianna. “Did you see her sitting there?”

  Peyton’s mouth fell open. Her face turned a deeper shade of red.

  “Well it sounds like you have co
mpany. I have to go anyway. Ansley is throwing forty fits this side of Friday claiming she needs help with inventory. Love you, Mom.”

  “You, too, hon.” Peyton ended the call, flipped a couple of pancakes, and checked the bacon before facing Nory again. “So little woman, what’s your pleasure—pancakes, an omelet, a bacon biscuit, or—”

  “I don’t eat breakfast.”

  “She doesn’t eat at all,” Brianna said, watching from the adjacent breakfast nook.

  Peyton’s gaze rushed over Nory and a worried expression crossed her face. “My guess is she just hasn’t had anything worth eating. Fast food gets old. Doesn’t it, Nory?” She took hold of her shoulders and steered her to the table. After guiding her to the bench, she turned to Brianna. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore, but better.” She had stayed in her room all night, popping her meds and cursing the pain. At one point Kane had stopped in for a visit and she’d pretended to be asleep. She hadn’t been ready to face them. It was difficult enough to acknowledge they knew why she had been hospitalized, how and where she’d been attacked.

  “I’m glad, hon. We were worried about you.” Peyton sashayed back to the heart of their country kitchen. In a matter of minutes, platters were piled high with flat omelets, bacon, and pancakes. Slices of toast and biscuits were arranged on bread plates. She set everything on the table and took a seat. “Dig in, girls.”

  Coco entered the kitchen then. She pulled out a few paper plates from the cupboard and slung them at Nory. “Here. Use these.”

  “Oh, that’s all right. If I make a mess, I’ll clean it up. I want the girls to enjoy their breakfast.” Peyton paused. After a moment, she added, “I made enough for everyone, Coco.”

  “How long are you and Kane planning on staying?” Coco crossed her arms over her chest. “I mean, obviously Brianna is okay. She’ll survive. That’s what we do.”

  Brianna shot her a glare. She wasn’t thrilled to have them there either, but at the same time, they were family. Their mother would roll over in her grave if she thought they were disrespecting their elders, particularly the Cartwells.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I get my hands around that little bastard’s throat,” Kane announced, marching right to Peyton and smothering her lips with a saucy kiss. “Mornin’, gorgeous.”

  Nory glanced at Brianna, stuck her finger in her mouth as if she were gagging, and turned back to the table. “Pass the toast, please.”

  “I saw that, young lady,” Kane said, taking a seat and tossing his napkin in his lap. “And for that little ‘ew’ remark, you can try everything on the table. A little birdy told me you’ve lost thirty pounds in about three months.”

  “Oh, honey,” Peyton said, concern marring her brow. “Have you been sick?”

  Brianna took a deep breath. “I told you. She doesn’t eat. Ever.”

  Gemma and Drina entered then. Peyton kept studying Nory and Brianna resented her expression, full of pity and worry.

  “Morning, girls. Breakfast is served. Don’t get used to it. Peyton’s idea of cooking is slapping a few pastries in the toaster.”

  A loud knock resounded and Coco turned to the back door. “It’s probably Brandon.”

  “Who’s Brandon?” Kane asked.

  Coco stalled, glared at him as if she were contemplating a snide reply and then stormed away to greet her guest.

  “Was it something I said?” Kane asked.

  Brianna exchanged glances with her sisters. She wondered what Kane would say if she just told the truth and said Brandon and his brothers were Coco’s friends with benefits.

  “Apparently so,” Kane muttered, lifting his brows. This time, he and Peyton swapped stares.

  A few seconds later, Coco reentered the kitchen. “Will you be around?”

  “Yes,” Kane replied, dabbing the corners of his mouth. “I noticed you have some boards down in the lower field. I’m working down there today.”

  Peyton patted Kane’s hand and then picked up her coffee cup with both hands. They never took their eyes off one another. The woman apparently thought her husband was something extraordinary. She looked at him as if she were positively lovesick. Then again, from what Brianna knew of her cousins, they all professed mad love for their significant others.

  Brianna’s sadness was overwhelming then. She realized her chance of finding the kind of love Kane and Peyton shared was now slim to none. Only three men held the keys to Brianna’s heart. After what had happened to her, the Jackson brothers would probably never give her so much as a second glance. They’d think of her as damaged goods.

  “I have classes until five o’clock today.”

  “You’re in school?” Peyton asked. “How wonderful to hear.”

  Coco rolled her eyes. “Yeah. How about that? The drug lord’s daughter is trying to rise above her upbringing and make something out of her life. Who would’ve thought, right?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Peyton, don’t,” Kane said, standing. “I’ll walk you out, Coco.”

  “You’ll have to wait and walk me back in at the end of the day,” Coco said, snatching her keys from the nearby counter. “I’m late for class.” She pointed at Nory. “She’s on spring break this week.”

  “I could’ve told them,” Nory said, carefully spreading jam on her toast. Her little head bobbed one way or the other as she smoothed the knife over the bread.

  The door slammed in Kane’s face and he turned to the room. “All right, ladies. We need to establish some ground rules right away. I’m not your father and Peyton isn’t here to try and fill that void your mother left behind so many years ago. We’re here to help. With the exception of Nory, you’re all adults. Adult or not, we’ll respect you if you respect us, but let me clear up one thing right away. I’m not going anywhere soon. Your father asked me to check in on you girls and that’s why I’m here.” He smiled that satisfied grin that meant stubborn as hell trouble. “And lucky for all of us I don’t have anywhere to be anytime soon.”

  “Do you know where Dad is living now?” Gemma asked.

  “No.”

  “Would you tell us if you did?” Brianna asked, challenging him.

  Kane studied her thoughtfully before answering. “If I knew where he was and it wouldn’t endanger you to know his whereabouts, I’d tell you.”

  “But it’s still dangerous for us to know where he is, right?” Brianna pushed away from the table and slammed her napkin to the table. “Where have I heard that before?”

  “Brianna, sit down,” Kane said firmly.

  “You are not my father. Remember? We’ve already established that.”

  “No, but I’m family. Better still, I’m your first line of defense. If you want to save yourself, you’ll start by losing that chip on your shoulder. Then, you’ll tell me who it is you’ve pissed off and why they want you dead.”

  “Dead?” Gemma looked at Brianna. “You didn’t say anything about someone wanting you dead.”

  Nory covered her small mouth with a trembling hand.

  “Are you happy now?” Brianna asked, seething. “You come in here and start all this drama and for what?” She turned to the table, picked up her plate and cup and took it to the sink. Pausing briefly, she wasn’t sure what to say next. It occurred to her then that no one had uttered a sound. In the back of her mind somewhere, she could hear her mother’s calming voice telling her to accept the helping hand reaching out to her. Slowly, she faced her family. “I hadn’t told them.”

  “I know.” Kane narrowed his eyes. “I’m not here to help you keep your secrets, Brianna. I’m here because a man took something from you that he shouldn’t have been permitted to have.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Kane.”

  “Maybe not, but—”

  Before he could finish, Brianna stormed out of the kitchen. Behind her, Brianna heard, “Kane. Wait. Let me talk to her.”

  Peyton could blab all she wanted. It wasn’t like Br
ianna would listen. Besides, Peyton was a good one to talk. From what she’d heard about her cousin’s shared wife, she was kinkier than the average broad. She apparently had a police record to prove it.

  What could the woman possibly say that would make her feel better?

  At the end of the day, women were on this earth for one reason—to make a man’s cock hard. Brianna had that down pat. Apparently Peyton Cartwell had fared all right in that specific department, too, since she slept with three men.

  So sure, maybe they could talk about that—one whore to another.

  Chapter Five

  A few hours later, Brianna bounded down the steps and out the front door. “I’ll be back in a bit. Need anything from the store?”

  Peyton rose from the porch swing. “I’ve been waiting for you. Do you think we could talk?”

  “Sure, Peyton,” Brianna said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “What would you like to discuss? Hmm? Want to tell me how you know what it’s like to grow up without a mother? Want to tell me you can relate to what I’m feeling? Is that it?”

  “I only want to help, Brianna.” Peyton sighed. “I understand more than you think.”

  “Really? Do ya now?” She snorted at that. “Was your dad a drug lord? Was some madman out to kill you? Did he seduce you first, you know, just for sport? What is it that you’d like to discuss exactly?” Brianna’s gaze bore into Peyton’s. When Peyton didn’t answer her, she smirked. “What? Cat has your tongue now? Well, how about this. Why don’t you tell me how you felt when you were forced to talk to a cop about your most intimate moments?” She tried her hand at a take-that look. “From what I understand, we do have that in common.”

  Peyton crossed her arms. “You’re angry.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, Brianna.” She waved her hand at the swing. “Sit with me?”

  “Like I said, I’m going to the store. When I get back, maybe we can chat.” Before Peyton could stop her, Brianna rushed down the cobblestone path to the row of trees where her sports coup was parked. She jerked open the door, took a seat, jammed her key in the ignition, revved up the engine, and peeled out of the driveway.