Wounds That Won’t Heal

by Calle J. Brookes

  The man who had orchestrated Mel being shot and Ari being abducted, had also killed Simon's mother in front of him. Simon had ended up kidnapped by the same monster. The agent who had rescued Simon had been stabbed a dozen times in front of the child. Simon was healing, Ari’s older sister Paige and Paige’s husband Mick had adopted him, and were seeing that he was getting the counseling that he needed. But the boy was still very sensitive, and very fragile.

  Jillian wasn't about to let Holden-Deane hurt Simon in any way.

  47

  Rafe knew who the boy was the instant those brown eyes turned in his direction. It was like looking in the mirror to the past. Except he had been a lot thicker at that age than this child.

  The boy was a few inches taller than Jillian already. Rafe knew her to be right around five-five or six. She was touching the child, protectively, lovingly. In a way that spoke of long acquaintance. The kid looked at her and back at Rafe. "Simon, this is my boss at the hospital, Dr. Rafael Holden-Deane. He's Travis’ and the governor’s brother, as well."

  "And mine. I know; Ari told me." The boy's chin went up and he crossed his arms over his skinny chest. But he didn't look away. Rafe's estimation of the kid’s character went up. There were several full grown men, doctors the lot of them, who couldn't meet him in the eye. But a skinny thirteen-year-old could. "Even if he doesn't want us. Ari told me that, too."

  Rafe winced. He wasn't about to explain to a teenager how he felt about biological ties. Especially in the center of the Becks’ living room. So he just held out his hand to the teenager. "Simon, it's nice to meet you."

  The kid shook his hand, but eyed him untrustingly. That was an expression Rafe was used to. "Nice to meet you, too. Jilly, when will Syd be back?"

  "She and my father ran down to the store at the end of the road. We needed more soda. She'll be back soon. Why don't you go out to the backyard? Houghton’s back there with Mel's old basketball. Someone needs to make sure that he doesn't trip and fall flat on his face. Again.”

  Rafe was grateful not to have the teenager staring at him. Jillian looked at his sister and something passed between the two of them.

  "How long is he staying with you?" Jillian asked.

  "For a few days. Mick and Paige are both at Quantico, right now. They took the baby with them, and Gracie Reynolds. Gracie is watching the baby at the hotel. Simon didn't want to go and hang around the hotel all day with just Gracie and the baby."

  "And Luc?"

  "He's around somewhere. I think he headed to Mexico for a few days. Payton has to stay in town; she's testifying. So that left Simon at loose ends for a few days. Luc flew him down yesterday. He’s been hanging out with me and my father."

  "If he gets bored, Dad mentioned going fishing again soon. Something about taking Travis with him, as well. And Lacy, if she’s up to it.”

  "Do I have to go?" Ari asked, wincing.

  "That is entirely up to you. You won’t have to touch any icky fish, I promise; Dad will take care of it for you. I go back to work tomorrow." She slid a look at Rafe. "I'm working the next four, in a row. But if he's still here after that, maybe we can take him to Houghton's and go horseback riding."

  "You know that'll make his day, don't you?"

  The little she-devil laughed, sending a curl of fire straight through Rafe's gut. It was obvious they had forgotten he was even there, as he settled on the couch next to Travis. "I know. But he'll outgrow it."

  "I hope so; because no offense—as much as I love you—I don't want you for my sister-in-law."

  Lacy was listening from where she sat curled up on the couch with a drink in her hand, and a hand knit blanket covering her. Rafe suspected the Becks had been pampering her from the moment she was released from the hospital. Good.

  The woman deserved it, after the hell she had been through. The blonde burst into song about a kid having a crush on an older woman. Rafe got it then.

  Hell, he even understood it.

  She might have been evil incarnate, but Jillian Beck was the kind of woman men of all ages fell hard for, the kind a man never could forget. She’d certainly snuck her way into his dreams lately. And he'd yet to find a way to dislodge her.

  Rafe just sat back and watched her, and the rest of them. Trying to figure out just exactly how they all fit.

  48

  She had to give him credit—he hadn’t done anything to make Simon feel uncomfortable. There was no denying the fact that Simon was Rafe's younger brother. Of course, no one had come out and said that he was, or that Ari was his younger sister, either. But they all knew. Everyone knew—it was so hard to miss.

  Everyone accepted that the three of them weren't ready to address it just yet. Jillian had to wonder if they ever would be. She knew it would have to be done eventually. If Holden-Deane was going to keep coming around—and to her ever-loving horror he most likely was—he was going to encounter Ari on a regular basis.

  She wasn't about to let the sonofabitch—she meant that literally—hurt the little boy who had already been hurt far too much by life. Not that she thought he would, intentionally. He had even mellowed toward Ari since the day Jillian had been shot. Jillian risked a peek at the man currently in her backyard. Well, the men and two boys. Isaac, the governor’s four-year-old, was trailing after Simon like Simon was a god.

  Simon stood by Rafe and was talking rapidly, clutching the basketball in his hand. He looked like Rafe's son standing there. He was on the basketball team for the high school even though he was technically too young to be on the high school team. He was good, though. Very, very good.

  He handed the ball to Rafe and the older man demonstrated how exactly to hold the ball. She watched as Rafe stretched up and sent the ball soaring through the air perfectly.

  He might have been a real jerk, but she could not deny that he was an example of fine masculine perfection. He was the tallest, heaviest and most muscled of the men in her backyard. And the thin t-shirt and jeans he wore made it abundantly clear that the man had a damned fine body.

  Too bad he was such a jerk sometimes. It completely ruined the effect.

  So why was she standing there staring at her new neighbor?

  Because she had lost her mind, that was why. Jillian jerked the blinds closed and turned away.

  49

  Somehow he ended up across the table from his biological siblings, and right between Lacy and the little she-devil. Every time he looked up, he looked at Ariella or Simon and was forced to talk to them to build a connection with them that he just didn't want.

  He could turn to Jillian on his left—or Lacy on his right. They'd effectively surrounded him.

  He half suspected it was Jillian's eldest sister who had somehow orchestrated it. He’d looked up once and his eyes had met hers. She wasn’t as beautiful as the she-devil, but the Beck women were all stunning creatures. Mel had smirked at him like she knew a secret, then looked away pointedly.

  Hell, maybe she was just doing it to mess with her younger sister. It was something Travis would have done to him, Rafe knew that. Siblings messed with each other at times. He knew that. But Travis and Marcus were not the only siblings he had at the table, were they?

  He might not want a connection with Ariella—or her teenaged brother—but it was there. And he needed to decide how he was going to deal with it.

  Them. Because whether he wanted it or not, he was not going to do anything to hurt an innocent thirteen-year-old kid. Or Ariella any more than he already had.

  Apparently—and he'd noticed before—the Becks said a prayer before every meal. And held hands while they did it. Rafe tried not to notice just how small and warm Jillian's fingers were in his. Lacy's hand wasn't much bigger, but his brother's fiancée didn't capture his attention in the least. Didn't distract him from the words that Jillian's father was intoning.

  Finally the prayer was over and he dropped her hand like it burned him.

  She looked straight at him and smirked. She leaned close enough
to him to whisper. "Oh, don't worry, Dr. Holden-Deane, all those things you hate about me… Well, they're not contagious. Your perfection is completely safe from being destroyed.”

  "I'm far from perfect. And Jillian," Rafe leaned down even closer to make sure she didn't miss what he had to say. He hadn’t missed the challenge in her words. A thrill went through him. "I don't hate you; far from it. Enjoy your day off, for tomorrow… I'm going to be there all day long."

  50

  The day went well.

  She managed to avoid Holden-Deane for most of the day, although she had seen him in the cafeteria when she had allowed Allen to persuade her to join him for lunch.

  Jillian hadn't truly wanted to, but he needed her. She knew he and Dr. Lanning had been friends for years; they had even attended college together, being at Finley Creek University at the same time and in some of the same classes as Marcus Deane. And Rafe. She’d heard they’d all been in classes together—Rafe, Lanning, Allen and Virat.

  It had only been two and a half weeks since Lanning had died. Since he had almost taken Lacy from them.

  Half of her day had been filled with answering questions about how Lacy was doing. Filled with people wanting to talk about the drama, speculating about why Dr. Logan Lanning had become so obsessed with Lacy that he had nearly killed them both. She hated the speculation more than anything.

  Jillian had no illusions where Lanning was concerned—he would've killed them all. He could have killed her and Ari and Lacy that night on the road. He could've killed her and Ari and just taken Lacy the night he’d burned the barn.

  They had been far, far too vulnerable. Again. And they hadn't even known it.

  When ten o'clock rolled around that evening, Jillian stayed inside the lobby until she saw the car arrive for her. Her father. No one wanted her out that late at night again. Not right now.

  It was just too soon after what had happened.

  She still hadn't replaced the little BMW that had been the only car she had ever owned. Jillian had loved that car, and she was going to be very particular about whatever she bought next.

  The car had been full of good memories. She and her father had restored it, spending many quiet hours together in the garage whenever they could.

  To see it crumpled like that was too hurtful to even think about.

  Everything just kept changing.

  51

  Allen hung up the phone and dropped his head to his desk. He’d hated to tell his friend no. Especially since he’d told him yes so many times before.

  Banks needed Allen to make it work and he knew it. But how could he expect Banks to understand the guilt that Allen felt?

  Banks’ company manufactured Solpalmitraln, but that didn’t mean Banks knew much about the drug.

  He was a businessman, not a chemist—or a physician.

  And Banks hadn’t been the one to prescribe those damned pills to Logan in anything.

  Why had Logan been abusing those drugs? His friend had to know the ramifications.

  Logan just hadn’t seemed to care.

  Allen walked down to the pharmacy.

  He needed Jessica. It was starting to become a habit.

  52

  Jess rubbed her arm and tried not to wince. The goon that had been sent to intimidate her into doing what that sonofabitch who thought he owned her wanted had gotten the message across really well.

  Either she did what she’d been told, or it would be more than just a twisted arm. Literally.

  He’d left with one of the boxes of the liquid drug she’d been hoarding for later distribution.

  At least he’d believed her when she’d told him it was the last box left.

  Damn Lanning. When he’d been the COM, she’d been able to smuggle out eighteen boxes of liquid Solpalmitraln.

  She didn’t dare pull that same shit with Rafael Holden-Deane. He’d already been in her pharmacy four times in the last week, just asking questions.

  Questions she was starting to struggle to answer.

  Why didn’t that man just ask Larry or Manda those questions? They were the heads of the pharmacy, after all.

  Unless Jillian Beck had overheard her phone call in the locker room that day and went running straight to Dr. Holden-Deane with what she’d learned?

  Rumor had it that Dr. Holden-Deane was hot for Jillian Beck, anyway.

  Damn her.

  Jillian Beck, with her perfect life and perfect ways and perfect man, was going to ruin everything.

  Jess pulled in a deep breath and grabbed her phone. The sonofabitch wanted answers, wanted someone to blame.

  Well, the two people she needed off her back were damned easy to blame.

  Jess made the phone call.

  The goon would have to take care of it.

  53

  It had been a long day, with a rising stream of patients. One of the night nurses had called off. Again. He had a tendency to do that. He wasn't any older than Jillian and he was far less responsible.

  Of course he didn't have nearly the responsibility she had had when she first started working, either. She’d had to work her way through school, unlike the other nurse, and help support their family. Pay the mortgage payment every other month. When Mel had been shot, money had gotten a whole lot tighter for their family—and they’d been in an area where property taxes were rising to the point of being difficult to meet. Those first few months after the shooting had been tough, and she’d been taking time off to stay in St. Louis with Mel, too. But they had muddled through.

  Someone—Jillian had her suspicions who—had paid off the rest of her tuition and all of Mel's loans; not to mention the second mortgage they'd had to take out on the house several months ago. Houghton insisted it wasn't him. But if it wasn't her brother-in-law, there was only one person it most likely was.

  Houghton's creepy father. He was still out there somewhere.

  Probably watching all of them. Jillian shivered.

  The man had been stalking her family since before Jillian had even been conceived. That still creeped her out every time she thought about it.

  The knowledge that Houghton's father was still out there somewhere didn't help.

  It was five after ten when she actually got the opportunity to clock out. She was waiting in the lobby for her ride to arrive when someone large and male walked up behind her. A hot hand landed on her shoulder.

  Jillian forced herself not to react outwardly. Even though it was far beyond the hour when he should have been gone, she knew who it was.

  She just had a Rafael Holden-Deane barometer or something. She looked over her shoulder and up into his dark eyes. It was really disconcerting to see her best friend's eyes peering out of her worst enemy’s face. One of those little quirks of fate designed to drive a person loopy, she supposed. "Doctor.”

  "Jillian, don't you think we can call each other by our first names now? We’ve known each other since you were in diapers. And with Travis and Lacy…Let’s just pretend that we don't…"

  "Despise each other? Is that the words you are looking for?" Why not call a spade a spade and admit the fact? She didn't like him and he didn't like her.

  Yes, they were connected. Pretty closely. Jillian had had enough of the animosity. The strain. She couldn't deal with fighting him over everything. In fact, Jillian was just ready to pretend that Rafe Holden-Deane was like any other Chief of Medicine she'd ever worked with—a politician in a lab coat. It just so happened that this one was on the outskirts of her family now.

  She didn’t have to like him, she just had to find a way to deal. "I suppose we could do that. I'm going to try, if you are. I don't like people talking about me… We both know that they are. They think it's funny how you and I don’t get along—the way Lacy and Lanning used to fight. I don't. I just want my life to get back to being calm and normal again. What it was just a few months ago. Before hell happened.”

  “Who are you waiting for tonight?”

  "Chance is coming to get
me. I don't have a car yet. And with everything that's happened lately, well, we try not to go anywhere alone this late at night any longer."

  "Call Chance, I'll give you a lift. My meeting just ended. I am headed in the same direction, after all." He smiled at her. Too bad the man had such a nice smile. It was wasted on her. It was. And she was going to keep it that way.

  "Okay, I would appreciate it. That way he can stay home with the baby and Brynna. I’m not sure where Dad is at this evening. Or Syd. I'm not even sure what state she's in right now.” Something was going on with her sister. Jillian just didn’t know what. When Syd came back, she’d be asking some serious questions.

  "So, consider me your taxi service for the night."

  She'd rather ride a roller coaster to hell, but it was what it was. Riding with Rafe made the most sense, caused the least amount of trouble for her family. Jillian texted her brother-in-law, then followed his cousin out to his assigned parking space, right in front of the building. Being Chief of Medicine had its perks, didn't it?

  54

  He drove well. He wasn't careless, and his hands were competent on the wheel. Jillian settled into the luxury seat of his Mercedes and tried not to notice how the interior smelled like him. Rafe might have been a great big ass at times, but she had to admit he was a physically pretty one. She knew the women of FCGH gossiped. Knew how they speculated about how such a devastatingly gorgeous man—she bit back a snort at that—had remained single as long as he had.

  He was the favorite topic of conversation, being the hottest, strongest, smartest and wealthiest doctor of Finley Creek General. How could he not be all heroic and just too perfect for words?

  Jillian could answer that question. It was all his personality.