Wounded Hearts: Men in Blue, Book 5
Page 1
Attraction, fear, danger—an unlikely recipe for healing scars.
Men in Blue, Book 5
In the year since Ellie escaped The Scientist’s ghastly dungeon, she still can’t stop looking over her shoulder. Or stop feeling guilty over the man who sacrificed so much to save her.
He lost everything. His career, his aspirations—even part of his body. It’s no wonder he wants nothing to do with her. Too bad he’s the only man she can think about.
Lucas has vowed to stay away from Ellie, but not for the reason she thinks. The woman he craves doesn’t need to waste her life taking care of a man with a missing leg, not when she needs to focus on her own healing.
Despite the best matchmaking attempts of the Men in Blue—and their wives—the emotional and physical gap between them seems uncrossable. Until Ellie is threatened again, and the only choice is to work together until she’s safe.
But to stay in the land of the living, they’ll both have to fight through their pain—and relive a few nightmares—to guarantee their demons won’t destroy her future.
Warning: Contains an alpha male with a broken body, but whose best bits are in fine working order. And a woman who survived hell, and is determined to fit enough of their jagged edges together to make a whole. Vivid PTSD flashbacks of sexual violence could be disturbing for some readers.
Wounded Hearts
Jayne Rylon
Dedication
For Machelle Walton—down an arm, no less of an amazing person. Your daughter rocks. :-)
Also, huge thanks to Christina, the AmputeeOT, for her educational YouTube videos and encouragement while writing this book.
Chapter One
Ellie’s knee bounced furiously, jiggling the beaded fringe on her slinky red party dress. She stared at the casino’s neon EXIT sign. Could she slip out the door before her well-intentioned friends stopped her and hauled her back to their girls’ night out?
Lights flashed, bells dinged and people shouted as they tried to one-up the music pumping through the speakers in the ceiling. Laughter and hoots echoed around her. Machines chimed over and over as the ladies she’d come with fed the penny slots at the casino that had opened up about an hour from their midwestern city.
Each pulse of color or barrage of sound jolted Ellie, making her flinch. It reminded her of the trips she’d endured while involuntarily taking Sex Offender—a libido-enhancing drug so powerful it had threatened society. True, almost no one but law enforcement agents knew that since they had successfully destroyed the narcotic before it was perfected and distributed by her ex-boss, who’d experimented with the formula on her. The uncomfortable intensity of her senses had made the world around her seem overwhelming. Like now. She shivered, certain she didn’t wish to recall any more of those memories. Pretty much ever, but definitely not here—in public. Not tonight.
There were far too many witnesses. She’d never hear the end of it if she broke down now, after months of therapy and supposed progress. Nightmares would give her plenty of time to relive her imprisonment and the horrific things that had been forced on her while she’d been the captive of a mad scientist. She chafed her arms.
“Doing okay?” Lily asked as quietly as she could, given the cacophony of stimulation encompassing them. Perceptive as always, the woman used her people-reading skills gained as a Domme too often for comfort. Lying would be futile.
“I’m trying.” A weak smile accompanied Ellie’s admission. Heart racing, palms sweating, she barely restrained herself from looking over her shoulder for the thousandth time in the past five minutes.
“Want some fresh air?” Shari, another of her friends, asked. “I know I can smoke in here, but it feels weird to do it inside these days. I could use a cigarette if you want to come outside with me.”
Jambrea—one of two nurses in their group—opened her mouth. Lacey looked ready to back her up by reciting the Surgeon General’s warning.
With a slice of her hand through the air, Shari cut them off. “Not a word. I know. It’s not good for me. Tonight, I don’t care. We’re having fun.”
New mom and tiniest of their group—though possibly the toughest, despite being a reformed socialite—Izzy didn’t stop there. “I guess I’ll have to text Ben and Ryan and see what they have to say about that.”
Completely distracted from her mounting terror, Ellie laughed. Her brother, Ryan, clearly had a crush on Shari—smoker or not. A bad habit or two or twenty wasn’t going to deter him. Where that left him or his roommate—Ben—who also seemed interested in the usually quiet resort manager, she couldn’t say.
Hell, for that matter, Ellie thought Ben and Ryan had something going on with each other after the time they’d also spent as prisoners in Morselli’s lair, trying to rescue her and Ben’s family from Morselli and his crony, the Scientist. Since then, they’d shared an apartment. Ben’s eight-year-old niece lived with them. He’d saved the girl, although he’d been too late to do the same for his own sister. None of them had emerged unscathed from that disaster. Maybe it was simply a matter of bonding in a time of crisis that kept the two guys together.
Ellie hated that she’d been the reason her brother had gotten ensnared in the mess. And he wasn’t the only man who’d gotten hurt trying to rescue her…
Suddenly it was hard to breathe again.
“Let’s go.” She yanked on Shari’s elbow. They headed for the outdoors together.
Ellie ignored the concerned glances the rest of their friends exchanged. It was a skill she’d perfected in the past year or so. She dodged cocktail waitresses in skimpy outfits and fishnets that highlighted their awesome legs, drunk guys who had her shuddering as she recalled the men who’d abused her, and a throng of people near the entrance that made it hard for her to gulp clean, crisp air into her lungs.
When she pushed the glass door open, it banged into the side of the building hard enough to make her surrender a nervous laugh. “Oops.”
“You’re okay.” Shari knew better than to touch Ellie, though she looked like she might offer a hug or a pat on the back.
“Am I?” Tears welled in Ellie’s eyes. She stared up at the night sky—admiring the twinkling stars out here, away from the city, in her glassy vision—willing the moisture to recede. All that effort on her makeup would not go to waste. Besides, she’d done enough crying to last her a dozen lifetimes.
“You’re getting there.” Shari grimaced as she fired up her lighter. She lit her cancer stick then lifted it toward her friend in a mock salute before taking a long drag and letting it out slowly. “We all have issues.”
Ellie snorted. “You’ve got a vice. So what? I’m fucked up. Completely fucked up, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to be even halfway normal again.”
“This isn’t a contest or anything. You’ve survived more shit than I can imagine. I just want you to know that you’re not alone in your struggles. I miss my brother. Always will. Don’t say anything to Jambi about this, please. But I have nightmares about him dying alone and unloved. Nothing I do will ever fix that. And it’s worse when I wonder if I’ll end up just like him.”
Ellie’s mouth hung open as she looked—really looked—at Shari for the first time. Maybe ever. Sadness lingered in her pretty brown eyes even as she worried about their mutual friend.
Jambrea had loved Shari’s brother once, before fate had ripped them apart, reality intervening in what could have been an epic pairing. Still, Ellie knew it didn’t have to be that way for Shari. What incestuous friendships they’d all forged!
Connected through the infamous Men in Blue
and their cases, they’d become a family of sorts.
Before Ellie could bring up her brother and his handsome roommate, Shari did it for her. “Then there’s Ryan and Ben. I wish I were half as brave as you and could do something about the spark I feel between us…”
Could the woman’s cigarette be more than a bad habit?
It was a crutch. They dealt with the shit on their plate however they could.
This time it was Ellie reaching out, enfolding Shari in a light embrace.
“Honestly, you’ve come so far. You should be anything but ashamed,” her friend murmured, squeezing Ellie back. “I’m proud of you. So is everyone else. The girls here tonight and the Men in Blue. Ryan, of course. And Ben too. You have so many people who care about you and are cheering you on. It’s only going to keep getting better. I promise.”
Ellie sighed as she thought about the one man in their circle of acquaintances that Shari hadn’t dared to mention. Her extra-sore spot.
Lucas.
If only he were impressed with her. The ex-military Special Forces fighter had shown nothing but derision toward her since he’d lost the lower half of his right leg. She couldn’t blame him. Indirectly, she’d been responsible for his injury. He’d come to her rescue, before he’d even known her, and been critically wounded in the attempt that had saved her life.
Because of her, his leg had been crushed. Amputated eventually. He’d sacrificed everything important to him—his career, his aspirations. Even part of his body.
Ever since then, he’d wanted nothing to do with her.
So, of course, he was the one man she wanted. Desperately. The only one who could replace her night terrors with something pleasurable. Steamy dreams of him had been intermixed with nightmares for months now. A waste of time, since he wouldn’t even let her near him long enough to help him with his recovery, never mind jumping his bones.
As if the sadness replacing Ellie’s panic had shown on her face, Shari linked their fingers. She snuffed the butt of her cigarette then squeezed Ellie’s hand. The fact that she could tolerate even that much skin-to-skin contact with another person did speak volumes about her slow healing.
“Come on, let’s get back in there.” Shari smiled at her. “Grab a couple of those free drinks if you need to loosen up. We need to win some of this place’s cash!”
“That would be nice.” Ellie hadn’t worked since the disaster, as she thought of it. The Men in Blue had generously assembled a charitable fundraising campaign for her treatment and living expenses while she rehabilitated. Lately, she found herself antsy to return to productive society.
Except, being a lab tech didn’t hold the same appeal as it once had, knowing the dangers and the evil purposes her work could be put to. Probably, it was time to consider a change of career.
But not tonight.
Ellie found herself grinning as they made their way to the group of gorgeous women, all so different and yet so tightly knit, huddled around a bank of one-armed bandits. Jambrea was statuesque, kind. Lily and Izzy, half sisters, ultra-petite yet fierce. Lacey had a girl-next-door vibe that masked her true spark. They were each amazing in their own way.
Maybe she could be too.
“Shari?” Ellie said just out of hearing of the gang.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.” She grinned. “I hope you remember this little chat when I get around to lecturing you about my brother and pursuing the chemistry between you.”
“Not you too.” Shari shook her head.
“Yep. For sure.” Ellie winked then trotted over to the digital cashier and loaded up her freshly minted reward membership card with some of the cash she’d hoarded from her birthday presents. She wouldn’t mind if they made these Saturday night outings a regular thing.
Next time she could host them for a dinner party, if she could keep her shit together that long.
A while later, the rest of the women were huddled around Ellie’s stool at the slots. They cheered as she made it into the bonus game on her fancy machine for the fourth time in as many spins. Already up about five hundred dollars on the original forty she’d plunked down to start, she figured she could keep riding her hot streak.
The rainbow hues of the whirling wheel didn’t bother her now as excitement flowed through her, helped along by the slight buzz she had from the free drinks that kept coming around. Sure, they were watered down, but she hadn’t had alcohol since before her confinement. Hadn’t trusted herself to enter any altered state since then. Well, of course, that didn’t count the antianxiety medicine she’d been popping left and right for months.
When the blur slowed and she could start to make out the digits, her eyes grew wide. The grand prize logo ticked upward as if in slow motion. And when it stopped, directly in line with the gleaming gold JACKPOT marker, she simply sat and stared.
The rest of her friends went wild. Screaming, jumping up and down, and high-fiving each other, they were still careful not to grab Ellie and shake her, as they did each other. Instead of roaring, or cheering, or crying—Ellie scrubbed her eyes and looked again.
It couldn’t be.
Could it?
“Holy fucking shit!” Lacey whooped as she twirled around in a circle. “I admit I’m kinda drunk, but I’m pretty sure you just won forty-seven thousand dollars!”
Tingling rose up Ellie’s wrists and into her arms as she blinked at the display.
It didn’t take long before a crowd began to form around them.
A spotlight shone down on her and a voice boomed across the casino’s sound system, “Congratulations to our first big winner!”
Then things went from slow motion to fast forward in an instant. A man in a black suit came up behind her, startling her. She gasped then put her trembling hands over her open mouth.
Lily stepped between the guy and her, giving her time to adjust to his presence and focus on exactly where they were—and were not—and what was going down.
Behind the bulky dude, who was almost certainly a security guard of some sort, a man wearing the standard casino uniform and a bronze nameplate rushed to her side. When her friends saw that she was okay, they let him pass. He infringed on her personal space, causing her to gulp.
“Lucky lady!” the man shouted with a gleaming smile that was too perfect to be entirely God-given.
Ellie reached out and grabbed Shari’s hand as she stood. Her friend grinned and stayed close by her side as she and the rest of their group were herded to the edge of the slots. The phony man’s lips were moving, but Ellie couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Everything seemed garbled, as if she were watching it play out from underwater.
“I’m sorry. W-what?”
“I said it’ll be just a few minutes.” He practically bounced, as though he’d hit the big one. “We need the machine operators to certify everything was functioning properly when the win went through.”
His offhanded shrug made her eyes narrow.
Beside Ellie, Jambrea practically growled, “We all saw it. She won that money.”
Things might get ugly if they tried to deny it.
Ellie giggled internally at the idea of her five feminine friends kicking some serious ass. They would, too, if they thought one of their gang was mistreated. It felt nice to be considered one of them. Even better than winning nearly fifty grand. Almost.
She did a double take, verifying the slot machine—which now beeped and buzzed and jangled like it was a rocket about to launch into space—still claimed she’d hit the jackpot.
It did.
A hint of pain whipped through her as she nibbled the inside of her cheek. It seemed to take forever for another handful of men in suits to reach them, then put the guts of her slot machine on display as they hovered over some screen and a readout only they knew how to interpret.
Ellie looked
up, noticing the cameras everywhere. It was like they were putting on a show for the surveillance crew. Or maybe this was some TV prank and someone was about to jump out and tell them they’d been fooled.
Instead, the trio of bean counters began to gesture excitedly. One turned and flashed them a thumbs-up.
Ho-ly shit.
Blackness infringed on her vision, making it sort of tunnel in on the neon-green numbers scrolling past on the slot machine—$47,292.
“Woo-hooo!” she whooped, spinning to face her friends.
They beamed at her, and Shari even had a single tear tracking down her cheek. Her friend sniffled then said, “If anyone deserves something good, it’s you.”
“We all do.” Ellie pumped her fist in the air. “Next ladies’ night is on me.”
They cracked up as the casino personnel whisked them off the casino floor to a well-lit, marble-tiled space. In front of them was a teller’s window.
Ellie tried to focus as they put form after form on a clipboard and had her filling out just about every detail of her life. They might have asked for her bra size somewhere in that mountain of crap. Her eyes crossed before she’d made it even halfway through.
When she handed them to the cute young teller, he winked at her. Refusing to make eye contact, she glanced over her shoulder at her friends, who were leaning up against various walls, talking excitedly on their phones. All of the Men in Blue must know about their escapades by now.
What would Ryan say when he found out she’d gotten so damn lucky?
Or Lucas. Would he even crack a hint of a smile at the news?
“All right. Here you go.” The teller slid a canvas, zippered bag through the opening of his window. He had to shove it a little to smoosh it through, like she did when squashing her ass into her skinny jeans at the wrong time of the month. Or after she’d baked too many cupcakes when she couldn’t sleep.
Unable to help herself, she peeked inside.
“Wow. That’s a crap ton of cash.” She whistled.