by Brynn Paulin
A litany of curses followed her as she dashed into the field that edged the road, remembering every chain email she'd ever gotten that had told women to run from an attacker when death was imminent. She prayed what they said of gunmen was true. They were less likely to hit a running target, especially if they were running too. And Payton was no gunman. She couldn't fathom where he'd even gotten a firearm, unless he'd been planning to grab her for quite a long time.
Gunshots rang behind her, ripping into the ground around her. She hoped he ran out of bullets before he gained accuracy. Fighting her terror, she put on a burst of speed.
Suddenly pain lanced up her leg as she caught it in the soft dirt and it twisted beneath her. The air whooshed from her as she slammed into the ground. Desperately, she scrabbled forward. She grabbed at clumps of grass as she tried to regain footing with Payton's pounding feet growing closer.
The bullets stopped.
"No!"
Garrett? She turned to see him racing down the slight embankment from the road. Chay at his heels.
Payton ploughed into her.
Screaming, she fought him, punching kicking, twisting. A searing pain lanced into her middle, followed by another. Cold lanced into her, her arms becoming leaden as another stab followed.
Her phantom rescuers were too late.
* * * *
Garrett had never known terror until he saw Payton's knife slashing into Jahz while Payton straddled her and she fought to get away. His feet were like lead, unable to carry him fast enough to her. Rage filled him until he thought he might murder Payton when he got his hands on him.
His terror multiplied tenfold as Jahz stopped fighting, her arms sagging weakly to the ground. No! No! No! No, please...
Wrenching Payton off Jahz, Garrett smashed his fist into the twisted bastard's face. When the man staggered and would have fallen, Garrett grabbed his collar. He pummelled him over and over, his agony over what Payton had done to Jahz, giving him strength and feeding his fury.
"Garrett,” Chay yelled. “I need you!"
Dropping Payton, Garrett raced to his lovers’ sides. Desperately he pressed his hands over the bleeding gashes. “My God! Where's the police? She's bleeding so much."
"Call them. Tell them we need an ambulance."
Garrett yanked out his cell phone, fighting with it as it slipped in his bloody fingers. Quickly he told the emergency dispatcher that they needed an EMT along with cops. “She's dying,” he sobbed unable to keep back the emotions. Fuck the manly bullshit he toted around. Jahz was dying and he thought he might too if they lost her. “Chay, she can't die,” he said, pulling off his T-shirt and pressing it to the flooding wounds.
Chay closed his eyes, his lips moving in soundless prayer.
Garrett couldn't. He couldn't speak to a God who might let this happen. He stared down at Jahz's limp, ashen face, nearly blinded with his tears.
"Don't die,” he whispered. “Please don't die."
* * * *
"Hey, hon. Gonna wake up and talk to me?"
Jahz struggled to place the female voice. So much pain ... she couldn't breathe right. Angrily, she struggled to escape the fog holding her and rip away the web holding her and keeping her from breathing.
"Calm down, Jahz. Sweetheart, you need to stay still or you'll rip your stitches.” A hand grabbed hers and she clutched it like a lifeline, her panic receding slightly. The woman crooned lightly at her, rubbing her hand.
"Can you hear me? You're in the hospital. Oh God, Payton hurt you, but you're gonna be all right. You've made it through seventy-two hours. Keep fighting. Don't let him win. You're gonna be okay.” The woman sobbed. The woman ... Tamera. “You've gotta be okay."
Jahz weakly squeezed her hand again. “Don't cry,” she rasped, her voice a barely discernable whisper. “Don't cry. Not your fault."
"Oh God! Jahz!” Tam kissed her hand. “She's awake,” Jahz heard her say to someone. Chay and Garrett? Disappointment weighed heavily on her when she learned it was only a nurse.
Across the room, Chay pressed a hand to his mouth, an arm tight around his middle, as he watched the nurse care for Jahz. Tam looked at him and he shook his head, knowing he'd lose it if he tried to speak. The last thing Jahz needed was her lover sobbing all over her like a lunatic. He was supposed to be her big strong lover. He was supposed to protect her, to keep her from harm.
Glancing at Garrett, two feet away, he saw the same agony he felt. Garrett closed his eyes, shaking his head.
Chay knew they were of one mind on their failure and the way they'd let her down over the job offer. They didn't deserve her.
Shaking his head, he left the room. Garrett followed him, grabbing him outside the door and pulling him into his arms. Holding Garrett tight, Chay pressed his face into his neck, and his body shook as he let loose the tears he'd held in for three days.
"What a fucking wuss I am,” he choked when his shoulders stopped shaking. Garrett was so much stronger than he was.
"No you're not. You have a heart. You've been so strong for Jahz for days."
"Crying like a baby—"
"I lost it last night when we had to go home without her again. What if we never get to take her home?” Garrett interrupted with a shake of his head.
"Don't say that.” Chay dashed a hand over his face. “I haven't cried since I was a kid. Fuck I hate it."
"I don't think you're supposed to like it. Ready to go back in?"
"Tam? Where are Garrett and Chay?” Jahz struggled to open her eyes. It was so hard, and the light hurt. She panted from the exertion of speaking and her chest burned, feeling heavier than the time she'd had pneumonia.
"We're right here, baby."
She struggled to open her eyes. The two people she loved best leaned over her, their sorrow ravaged faces filling her vision. Smiling faintly to have them near, she closed her eyes again. “I love you."
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Epilogue
Six weeks later
Jahz unlooked the door to her new home and wandered inside. Chay and Garrett wouldn't be home for a couple of hours. She had a surprise for them when they got there.
Setting her purse and cell phone on the table in the entry hall, she looked around. She loved this house and was so glad it was part hers. Now.
How life had changed over the last six weeks. Chay and Garrett had offered to move to Detroit with her so that she could take the job that had been offered to her, but Dr. Gravett from the Cranston Medical Centre had beat them to the punch. The day she'd been scheduled to leave the hospital, he'd come to her room and sat on the edge of her bed, regarding her earnestly.
"I need an OB specialist onboard at the centre. I think that person is you."
There'd been no question as to her answer.
She stretched, then shrugged out of her coat. She loved Cranston and she loved working at the medical centre. She'd almost thank Payton if he hadn't tried to kill her. He'd be spending a lot of time at the Jackson Prison. She wouldn't be visiting him.
Wandering towards the stairs to go to the bedroom she shared with her lovers, she flipped the switch that would ‘light up the world’ as she liked to joke. A bazillion and twelve tiny lights surrounding the house winked to life. Stopping by the living room, she plugged in the lights on the tree.
Excited by what lay ahead for the night, she jogged up the steps, cognitive that her scars didn't pull and twinge as they had just two weeks ago. It wouldn't do for them to be a problem tonight. She wanted to be ready when her guys got home. They'd love the lingerie she'd gotten for tonight.
Maybe she'd wait in front of the tree wearing red lace and nothing else. They'd like that—
She gasped and took a step backward as she encountered two men in the bedroom. Her men. Dressed in tuxes.
"What's this?” she asked, taking in the carnations and daisies filling the room—they'd agreed to never get her roses. Champagne chilled in a silver bucket on the dresser. Sensuous music play
ed as a quiet backdrop to her loudly thumping heart.
"A little bird told us you were given go ahead for regular activity today,” Garrett told her.
She made a face, ready to strangle her boss. “So much for HIPPA laws. Dr. Gravett has a big mouth. I wanted to surprise you."
It had been a long, long six weeks. Since one of her wounds was to her lower abdomen, her doctor had advised her to restrict activity, including sex with her two vigorous lovers, until he'd deemed her completely healed. Knowing how lucky she was to have even survived Payton's attack, she'd complied. But waiting had been hell. For all of them.
In a way, Payton had given her an invaluable gift—six weeks of tenderness and getting to know each other without the distraction of sex. The guys had abstained one hundred percent, too, though she'd told them they needn't suspend their activities with one another.
Taking her hands now, they pulled her further into the room. They each kissed her gently on the lips, leaving her wanting more, then fell to their knees in front of her. Her eyes wide, she took a step backward in surprise.
Chay tugged her left hand before she could go far. “Jahz..."
"We love you,” the men said together. “Marry us."
"Please,” Garrett concluded. He leaned backward and pulled her with him until they were a jumble on the floor. Chay dove in, his limbs adding to the pile.
They rolled her to her back and both leaned over her. “Will you?” Chay asked.
Garrett smiled devilishly. “Will you be a slave to our pleasure?"
"Hmm ... let me think about it.” She looked at them seriously. “Of course, I'll marry you. I love you. I love you both so much. I already belong to you ... and your pleasure. My dark phantoms, I've been yours since the day you swooped in to carry me away to your lair and into your hearts."
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About the Author
When it comes to books and movies, Brynn Paulin has one rule: there must be a happy ending. After that one requirement, anything else goes. And it just might in any of her books.
Brynn lives in Michigan with her husband and two children, who love her despite her occasional threats to smite them. They humour her and let her think she's a goddess ... as long as she provides homemade chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis. Brynn is president of her local chapter of Romance Writers of America and also hosts a weekly writing critique group. She's conducted workshops at several writers’ conferences around the country as she enjoys mentoring and meeting new people.
According to Brynn, her writing success can be attributed to 70's music, her local road construction crews, a trusty notebook, and of course, her husband (and willing research subject), AKA Mr. Inspiration.
Email: [email protected]
Brynn loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Brynn Paulin
Redemption: Fallen
Redemption: Incubus
Tribute for the Goddess
Circle of Three: Tempting Tamera
Legend: A Legend Arises
Legend: A Legend Accomplished
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