The Damaged Heroes Collection [Box Set #1: The Damaged Heroes Collection] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)

by James, Sandy

  Andrew’s voice buzzed in her ear again. “Yeah. We need you to come down and see what’s missing. The place isn’t too bad, but your office is... Well, it’s a mess.”

  “I’ll get there fast as I can.” She pressed the button to end the call and turned to Ross. “I’ve gotta get to the clinic.”

  “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

  “No!” she practically screamed at him before harnessing her panic. “No. No, thanks. I’ll... I’ll drive myself.”

  “Laurie, you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you go there by yourself,” Ross said in one of the tones that implied he was a burly man refusing to let a frail woman handle a possibly dangerous situation on her own.

  But his chauvinistic response wasn’t the cause of her concern. Laurie wasn’t about to let him go near her clinic. If he got anywhere near the door, the cat would be out of the proverbial bag. The fact that “Dr. Laurence Miller” was etched on the glass alongside Andrew’s name would be a dead giveaway.

  Ross was already putting his shoes back on.

  “Ross, I... I don’t want you to go.”

  He turned to glare at her. “I’m going.”

  She hated the tone of his voice almost as much as her own fear. “I don’t want you to.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  Laurie jumped up and paced around the room. Ross watched her from the sofa with his eyebrows knit in concern. “I don’t want you to go,” she said again, wringing her hands.

  Ross got up and covered the distance between them in a few long strides. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Laurie, tell me what’s wrong.”

  She looked up at him, feeling trapped in her own lie. “I can’t.”

  “Why the hell not?” She could hear his whispered count of ten, and then he took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry I got angry. But you’re frightening me here. Will you please just tell me why you don’t want me to go to the clinic?”

  There was no way she could stand losing him now, but the minute she opened her mouth and spit out her name, he’d probably be on the road back to the city in a heartbeat. While he’d made great strides in opening up, he hadn’t had enough time to let go of his prejudices. She couldn’t lose him now. She’d never be able to stand it.

  Tears came to her eyes. She had no choice. She had to tell him, but she would wait until they hit Joliet. Even if only for a few more precious minutes, she needed to be with Ross, needed him to still care.

  “Fine. You drive.” Laurie moved over to the pile of shoes, found two that matched, and jammed them on her feet. She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder before she marched to the front door. “Ready?”

  She suddenly remembered her state of undress. Not wanting to have her boobs bounce around like a couple of volleyballs, she walked over to a plastic laundry basket sitting on the overloaded dining room table. Laurie dropped her purse and grabbed a red lace bra.

  Ross watched her pick up the garment and almost groaned at his physical response to thinking about Laurie in any type of red lingerie. Red. It had to be red. But his thoughts were diverted as he watched her pull her arms inside the big shirt and don the bra without ever exposing an inch of skin. “Do they teach that to all you girls in high school?” he asked with a chuckle.

  She just picked up her purse. “Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  Riding in Ross’s Lexus, Laurie watched the landmarks slip by one by one. Her heart ached, knowing she needed to confess. But the words just wouldn’t come. Coward!

  Each and every building, stoplight, and sign marked the end of her chance to keep Ross close to her. She needed to tell him all that was in her heart before he discovered who she really was. It was just so very hard to find the courage to open up her mouth and let the truth topple out.

  Ross glanced over at her from time to time. “Wanna talk about it? I’m not a therapist, but lawyers are great listeners,” he offered with a smile. “I’m sure the clinic is fine. Anything stolen, you can replace.”

  If only it was that simple. “Ross, I have... I have...something important I need to tell you. But first, I want you to know how much I... I... There’s something about you that makes me...happy. I think about you all the time.”

  Ross’s chest puffed up a little at her words. “I think about you too, Laurie. I’m having an awfully hard time concentrating at work.”

  Tears formed in her eyes. He couldn’t have given her a nicer compliment. Her heart absorbed his words and held them secure. She’d need them later to soothe her pain when he left. With a quick glance out the window, she realized they were getting close to the clinic. She had to say what was in her heart and hope that he would be able to forgive her. Someday. “Ross, I’m falling in love with you.”

  He almost drove off the road before he caught himself. Laurie could see him working things over in his over-active mind. The notion of love probably seemed terrifying. Not only because of what had happened when he’d handed his heart to Katie Remington, but because men seemed to feel the need to run away as hard and fast as possible whenever that word first came up. She just couldn’t let him disappear without telling him what she truly felt for him. “I am. I’m falling in love with you.”

  The car was as silent as a cemetery. The only words exchanged for a few minutes were directions to the clinic. When Laurie realized Ross was probably going to ignore her brave declaration, she finally turned her head to gaze at the familiar buildings, her heart breaking. She’d been wrong. He didn’t love her in return. “The clinic is on this block.”

  As the Lexus pulled into the parking lot and ground to a stop, Laurie turned back to Ross. “Please forgive me.” Then she popped the seatbelt, jumped out of the car, and ran to the clinic, unable to find the courage to confess her lie.

  Ross sat there for a second, realizing that she’d been struggling mightily with something tumbling through her mind. Perhaps it was concern over the break-in at the clinic. Maybe it was regret over letting things progress so quickly between them.

  She loved him. It was more than he’d ever hoped for—someone as beautiful and wonderful as Laurie Beaulieu loving him. The future stretched out in front of him like a rising sun, promising a bright new day. He wished she could open up and share what was troubling her. Ross pushed himself out of his car and followed her toward the building.

  Two uniformed policemen stood outside the main entrance, talking to Andrew and busily writing in their notebooks. Ross looked at the front double doors. The rising sun of his future burst in a frenzy of bright fireworks before fizzling out.

  One of the doors had been shattered, but not the one proudly bearing the names of the therapists. He blinked a couple of times when he read the lettering. Then he tried to convince himself he was having some sort of strange hallucination. After all, Laurence Miller had been running him in circles for more than a month. Surely Laurie would have told him...

  But the proof was right in front of his eyes. Dr. Laurence Miller.

  Laurie had lied to him.

  So much for her honesty. She was nothing but a bold-faced liar. She’s one of them, and she sure as hell doesn’t love you, you big moron!

  Laurie was the one ducking her responsibilities to the Miller Foundation. Laurie was the one who didn’t care at all for the people the Foundation helped. Laurie was the one who’d made him look like a fool.

  Entirely accustomed to holding a tight rein on showing people his emotions, Ross kept himself visibly calm as he walked over to the police, introduced himself as Laurie and Andrew’s attorney, and discussed what they’d discovered. They informed him the alarm never sounded because the pharmacy area was the only part of the building wired against intruders, and it hadn’t been disturbed. The officers led him to the reception area.

  The only thing amiss was the desk. The drawers had been opened and obviously rifled through. The officers stopped there to compare notes as Ross walked down the short hallway to the office area.

  From the framed
degrees hanging on the wall behind the oak desk, Ross identified Andrew’s office. The room remained virtually untouched. Just like the reception desk, the drawers sat open and the contents were awry. He turned to walk across the hall to take a look at what he assumed was Laurie’s office.

  The place was a disaster area. Every file pulled from her file cabinets lay strewn over the floor. Her desk had been entirely cleared and emptied. Even the personal items in the small coat closet were scattered. All of the pictures and the framed diplomas and awards had been wrenched from the walls and smashed. Piles of distorted wood and shattered glass covered the carpet. Both officers had told him they believed this was a personal attack, not a drug-seeking burglar. One glance at the condition of Laurie’s office brought Ross to reach full agreement.

  He felt torn between the need to jump in his car and leave skid marks in his haste to flee Laurie’s deception and the overwhelming need to protect her. He argued with his traitorous tender feelings that she had lied to him, betrayed him. After his confession of the most important tragedy in his life, she hadn’t even bothered to inform him that she was one of the rich heirs he had vowed to hate.

  With outward calm that couldn’t possibly betray his inner turmoil, Ross watched the police photographer taking pictures while Laurie stood in the hall with her arms wrapped around herself. She’d unrolled the long sleeves of her shirt, and her hands disappeared beneath the red flannel. As she rubbed her upper arms, he could see her shivering. Ignoring the urge to go to her and take her into his arms to warm her from the evening chill was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. When he went to stand beside her, she looked up at him. Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes.

  “Do you know what’s missing?” Ross asked.

  Laurie winced at the flat tone of his voice. He’d disappeared inside that mind of his again. His guard had popped up, and she was no longer allowed inside. “I can’t tell. There’s too much...too much...mess.” She sniffled for a second then shook her head. “Look at what they did to my office.” She tried to choke back her tears, but several spilled over to dampen her cheeks.

  Laurie knew why she was crying, her office being only a small part of her despair. She felt violated, but whatever had been destroyed or stolen could be replaced. They were, after all, just things.

  But she could never replace Ross. She almost choked on the need to tell him that she loved him again. “I’m sorry,” was all she could squeak out of her closed-up throat.

  Andrew walked up to them, shaking his head. “I just don’t get it. They didn’t even touch the meds.”

  “This wasn’t a burglary,” Ross replied in that disinterested timbre that stabbed straight into her heart.

  Laurie glanced up at him in pain and confusion. “It wasn’t?”

  “No. This was personal. Maybe a patient. Or maybe a disgruntled family member. You should have the cops look into it. Better yet, hire a private investigator. You can obviously afford it.”

  Laurie flinched as if she’d been struck. They watched as the photographer put his equipment back into his big black cases.

  Andrew turned to wave at a man peering at them through the broken front door. “That’s the guy who owns the building. I need to go talk to him. We’ve got to rig something to keep the place secure tonight.” Andrew headed up the corridor as the photographer followed.

  Alone with Ross, Laurie had no idea what to do, even less notion of what to say. His face might as well have been made of stone. Even if she could read him, he was so closed up behind the walls his mind was rapidly constructing, it would have been futile to try. She was losing him.

  Or worse—she’d already lost him.

  Laurie reached out to lay her hand on one of the arms he had crossed over his chest. “I’m sorry, Ross. I wanted to tell you—”

  He brushed her hand away. “Oh, I’ll bet you wanted to tell me.” She knew his anger was righteous, but it stung nonetheless.

  “I was afraid of your reaction,” she whispered as her worst nightmare played out before her eyes. “I was going to tell you.”

  Ross didn’t respond. She watched him turning things over in his thoughts, and she could almost feel him slipping away from her with each passing second.

  “Please, Ross, can’t we talk about this?”

  His scowl frightened her. He glared at her, his face full of anger like she’d never seen in him before. “So you want to know how I feel about this, huh? Well, Dr. Miller, how do you think I feel? You’re the damn empath.”

  Before she could reply to the sarcasm, Andrew came striding back to them. “You two heading out?”

  “Can you take Laurie home?” Ross asked, the anger naked in his tone.

  Andrew shook his head. “Not yet. You can’t take her back?”

  “No, I can’t.” He turned to walk away, and Laurie knew he was leaving for good. Ross was walking out of her life, and she couldn’t let that happen without a fight.

  She gave a small, terrified squeak and followed. Clutching at his arm she begged, “Please, Ross, just stop. Give me a chance to explain.”

  When they reached the front door, he grabbed her hands and pushed them away. The action seemed to help him regain his wall of composure. “Goodbye, Laurence Miller,” he said without a note of emotion in his voice. Then he calmly walked to the parking lot and drove away.

  Chapter 13

  T.J. got shot today. The bullet went through his shoulder, but he’ll recover. Thank God! At least his shoulder will heal. I think something changed in his mind when the bullet hit him. I’ve never seen him so frightened.

  T.J. and Ice went for a collection. When they left, a man came from the back alley and just started shooting. Ice took one in the arm and got winged on the cheek. He was more worried about what the scar would do to his looks than his other wound or T.J. bleeding from his shoulder. T.J. killed the man right there in the alley. They left the body and ran.

  T.J. wants out. Ice has stolen so much money from the bosses that T.J. says it is just a matter of time before they push Ice’s button. He told Ice he’s going to leave soon. Ice told T.J. he can’t leave. The only way someone leaves bootlegging is in a pine box.

  Ellie is acting so strange. I know it’s because of Ice. She never eats, and she drinks all the time. She thinks the greasepaint hides the bruises. Why doesn’t she leave him?

  The Royal secret of stolen stones.

  How could Ice have ever known?

  Kept hidden for a chance to flee

  the love One cannot bear to see.

  Once exposed, One belonged to him.

  One had to answer the Cold man’s whims.

  The cab was already pulling out of the driveway as Laurie walked through the front door. She wasn’t at all surprised it remained unlocked from her evening run. Had that been only a few hours ago? A year seemed to have passed since she’d been snuggled up on the sofa with Ross. After she closed the door behind her, she leaned back against the cold wood and let the tears come.

  Just the thought of Ross made her heart ache enough to cause her physical pain. She’d been so stupid, so self-centered. She should have come clean, should have been honest with him from the start. How many times had she counseled her patients to always be truthful with the people they loved? But Ross would never have opened up to her if he knew she was one of those heirs he hated. And she selfishly didn’t want to tell him her real name because she’d be forced to quit her job. She wished for a moment she could be anyone but Laurence Miller.

  Pushing herself away from the door, she walked to the living room. She stared at the couch, the boxes of Chinese food, and the dirty plates.

  You’re a friggin’ moron, Laurence. He hates you now.

  The grief washed over her and tears came anew.

  Laurie let herself weep for several moments before she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her flannel shirt and sniffed back more tears. There had to be a way to bring him back. Surely Ross wouldn’t let something as simple as a name stand bet
ween the love she felt for him and the love she’d hoped he might be beginning to feel for her. She slammed her fist on the back of the sofa. “Find a way!” she shouted to the empty room. “We’re supposed to be together.”

  A shuffling noise from the second floor drew her attention. Walking to the stairs, Laurie leaned against the wooden handrail. “Deepika? Is that you? I thought you worked tonight.” There was no response.

  Still fretting over what had happened between her and Ross, Laurie climbed the stairs to the second floor and glanced around. Nothing seemed out of place. Old houses. Too much creaking.

  She opened the door and peeked into Deepika’s room. It was in its usual state of organized chaos. She moved to the office, but it was dark and quiet.

  The extra bedroom she and Deepika jokingly called the “closet” looked like a hurricane had recently ripped through. She chuckled and shook her head. The closet could be in order, and it would look exactly as it did when it was messy. The women simply had too many clothes and a sinful habit of buying shoes. And it wasn’t as if they had enough time or even the inclination to straighten the place.

  With a resigned sigh and the ever-present threat of more tears, Laurie decided to head to her own room, throw herself on the bed, and have a good, long sulk. If she could flush the pain away by crying, perhaps she could regroup and then concentrate on finding a good plan to try to win Ross back. Maybe he could find it within himself to forgive her. He just had to.

  The instant she opened the door, she realized her mistake. She had a fleeting thought of the many slasher flicks she’d seen where the viewer wanted to scream at the idiot girl who went toward the killer instead of running away from him. She should never have gone upstairs on her own. A heroine too stupid to live.

  Laurie’s beloved room had been ransacked. Her dresser rested on its side, the drawers either lying open or jerked entirely away from the frame. Her clothes were thrown about as if someone had been tearing through them looking for something elusive. Most of the picture frames had been knocked from the walls. Her mattress had been pushed from the box spring and the shiny cloth covering both pieces was shredded and hanging in loose ribbons. Linens lay scattered around the bedroom. The pink chair’s covering had been slashed and the stuffing popped out of ripped upholstery in big white clumps. Feathers rested like a dusting of snow all around the room—obviously from her pillows which had been torn open. The drawers of her nightstand stood open and empty as their contents littered the floor.