Rehabbing the Beast
Abbie Zanders
Published by Abbie Zanders, 2019.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
REHABBING THE BEAST
First edition. January 17, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 Abbie Zanders.
ISBN: 978-1386877127
Written by Abbie Zanders.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Rehabbing the Beast
Acknowledgements
Before You Begin
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
A Note from Abbie
Thanks for reading Seth and Quinn’s story
If you liked this book...
About the Author
Also by Abbie Zanders
Rehabbing the Beast
by Abbie Zanders, writing as Avelyn McCrae
Copyright 2018 Abbie Zanders, Avelyn McCrae
Acknowledgements
Professional editing by my dear friend, Meg Weglarz of Megedits.com, who never fails to challenge me and expand my horizons.
Premade cover by the talented Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs.
Thanks to fellow author and soul sister, Tonya Brooks, who is fierce, brutally honest, and always there for me, no matter what. Love ya, twin.
Thanks to my amazing reader group, the Zanders Clan, for being so supportive and reminding me daily why writing is a dream come true, and to my ARC Angels for their wonderful feedback and reviews.
And THANK YOU for selecting this book. You didn’t have to, but you did.
Before You Begin
Rehabbing the Beast is the story of Seth O’Rourke, a man who has always had a clear purpose. In many ways, he is more beast than man, a trait that has served him well in the military. When fate throws him a curve ball, he loses all sense of himself and his purpose and, like the wounded animal he is, lashes out at those around him. That includes Quinn Brennan, the quiet physical therapist who takes all the abuse he dishes out and keeps coming back for more.
Be warned: unlike many of my heroes, Seth is not a nice guy, especially not in the beginning. But that’s the point. The power of true love can soften and rehabilitate the hardest and most broken of hearts.
Happy reading!
Chapter One
“Don’t you have someone else to abuse?” Seth O’Rourke growled. Even before the helicopter crash that had broken nearly every bone in his body and all but decimated his internal organs, his voice had been low and deep enough to command instant attention, but now it was downright scathing.
He saw the brief flash of hurt in the physical therapist’s eyes and felt a perverse twinge of satisfaction. He knew he was being cruel, just as he knew that on some level, it should have bothered him more than it did. A warrior and a fighter, he’d never been a nice guy, but these days, even simple common civility was lost in the red haze of rage and frustration that consumed him.
His beast, the one who lived deep within him, blinked lazily and swished its long black tail, waiting to see what would happen next, casually curious. Seth was kind of wondering that himself. With Quinn, one never knew.
“Yes, but no one’s as mean to me as you,” Quinn replied evenly. The hurt in her soft gray eyes had morphed into grim determination, and, possibly, a hint of defiance. “I figured if I start with you, the rest of my day will be smooth sailing.”
One pointed ear stood up, the only indication of the beast’s casual interest at the sound of her voice. Subtly and unintentionally sensual, it always roused its interest. There was so little for it to do these days, trapped inside his broken body. It waited and watched for anything that might alleviate some of the boredom. Aggravating the female who had the misfortune of dealing with him every day was one of its favorite ways to pass the time.
Seth grunted in response, a purely masculine sound that was meant to remind her of just who she was dealing with. Seth wasn’t like the other warrior types that occupied the rehabilitation facility. Even incapacitated as he was, everything about him screamed alpha male, and the fact that his body needed her help to perform even the simplest of tasks pissed him off to no end.
She was a tiny little thing, but those delicate, fragile looking hands and arms held surprising strength. She lifted his left leg with ease and began a series of painful exercises meant to stimulate the blood flow and keep his muscles from atrophying while his body worked to heal after the latest round of surgery. He grunted again, more softly this time, in his deliberate attempt to conceal the pain, and saw her wince.
“Why do you do this kind of shit anyway?” he couldn’t help but ask, his question accompanied by a malicious sneer. “You don’t have the guts for it. Christ, you look like you’re going to cry when I’m the one feeling like my fucking leg is on fire.”
She ignored him, completing the series and using her small, strong hands for a deep massage of the muscles she’d just worked. Quinn was the only one of the therapists who did that and it felt amazing, but he would never admit that, especially not to her. His beast purred softly, quietly relishing the bliss of her touch.
“And you suck at it,” he added, just because he was feeling extra nasty. “Where’s Karl, anyway?”
“He’s on his honeymoon.”
Honeymoon? Seth hadn’t even known the guy was engaged. Then again, it wasn’t as if anyone shared their personal lives with him. Quinn was the only one stupid enough to try to talk to him anymore.
“Stupid fuck. He had everything going for him. What did he go and throw it all away for?”
Quinn released his left leg and moved around the front of the table to his right. She was careful to broadcast her moves and stay in his direct line of sight, proving that she had some inkling of a self-preservation instinct. He, like so many soldiers, hated having anyone behind his back. He much preferred having her – and everyone else – where he could see them. Since the rehab center dealt with a lot of injured GIs, it had probably become second nature to her.
She began the same grueling series all over again on his other leg. He refrained from uttering a sound this time, but she had to have heard his quick intake of breath. She glanced up briefly, probably noticing the bead of sweat breaking out above his upper lip, too.
“Some people actually believe that finding that special someone enhances your life,” she said softly.
His eyes flashed to hers and wisely, she dropped her gaze immediately.
Seth’s gaze moved from the sight of her delicate hands on his flesh to the curtain of honeyed blonde that fell across the side of her face. She was wearing it loose today. When she bent over him, sometimes it would stroke against his skin, the sensation like that of fine silk. He clenched his hands at his side, familiar anger building at the nearly irresistible urge to run his fingers through it. The beast pawed at his insides. It wanted to stroke her, too.
It took him a moment to realize that she was looking at him again, peering up cautiously through half-lidded eyes. Who had eyes like that? Impossibly long, thick lashes fell like perfect feathery crescents against her creamy skin every time she blinked, outlining the biggest, softest gray eyes he’d ever seen. They held so much expression when she dropped those professional shields. At that moment, they
held genuine bemusement and a hint of curiosity. He fucking hated that. She shouldn’t look at him like that. As if he was a person instead of just another broken warrior to be pitied because he had outlived his usefulness. The beast growled in agreement.
“Then they’re stupid fucks, too,” he said through gritted teeth.
Was that a quirk he saw at the corner of her mouth? The possibility, however slight, enraged him. He didn’t care what anyone said, but if Quinn laughed at him, he couldn’t bear it.
“Look at you,” he seethed as she dropped her eyes again and rubbed vigorously at his muscles. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? Dreaming of some Prince Fucking Charming to come and sweep you off your dainty feet. Well go ahead and dream all you want, Cupcake, because you can bet your sadistic little ass that no man is dreaming of you.”
The beast growled in protest, but he didn’t count, because he wasn’t a man. He was a beast in a broken shell.
Her hands paused, only for a second, but it was enough. Seth knew he had found a weak spot and pounced on it. “When’s the last time you had a date, anyway?” Beneath the cruelty of his words, he was curious. She never talked about her personal life like the others did. He knew that a couple male therapists had asked her out, but as far as he knew, she’d never accepted.
Quinn finished the deep tissue massage, wiping off the last of the special oil from her hands. He didn’t know where she got it, but she was the only one who used it. Judging by the way she kept the small, unmarked brown bottle hidden in the pockets of her scrubs, it wasn’t standard issue.
Her smile didn’t begin to hide the sadness in her eyes. “What can I say, Seth? You’ve ruined me for other men.”
For the second time that day, he was momentarily speechless. Without another word, Quinn put a facility-issued blanket on his legs and walked over to where another therapist was flirting with the new girl.
“He’s ready to go, Dave.”
Dave took one look at her and sighed. He put his hand on her shoulder. “He sure is a mean bastard,” he murmured loud enough for Seth to hear. “Why do you put up with him? We could split his sessions up between the rest of us, spread the misery.”
She gave him a little smile and said something, but Seth couldn’t quite make it out. Unlike Dave’s, her whisper-quiet voice didn’t carry as well. Whatever she’d said, Dave flashed his eyes toward Seth and nodded. Seth clutched the arm rests so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Quinn left the room without looking back.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Seth demanded when it was Dave who helped him into his wheelchair and started pushing him toward the exit.
Dave was everything Seth hated in a man. Tall, handsome, blond – too damn pretty, truth be told – with carefully sculpted muscles toned in a pricey gym and an easy smile for any female who looked his way. Women were drawn to him like bees to honey. All except one, which was the only thing that kept Seth from snapping his neck. “Where’s Quinn?”
“Missing her, are you?” Dave smirked.
“Fuck you.” Seth had seen the way the smooth bastard put his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. The way he’d leaned down and inhaled her scent while she’d updated Seth’s chart. She hadn’t succumbed yet, but she would. They always did.
As if reading his mind, Dave chuckled. “I’m working on it, Captain. I’m working on it.”
QUINN TOOK A FEW EXTRA minutes in the ladies’ restroom to splash some cold water on her face. Resting her palms on the marbled counter, she leaned in closer to the mirror.
“It was a lucky shot,” she told herself. “He couldn’t know. Fling enough random arrows and you’re bound to hit something eventually. Even a broken clock is right twice a day, right?”
That Seth had hit a sore spot didn’t bother her as much as the fact that she had revealed a weakness. That was unforgivable. Seth O’Rourke was not someone to whom she ever wanted to reveal a weakness.
Many of the black ops guys were like that, trained to exploit any weakness, mental or physical, though Seth seemed more dangerous than most. More feral. Sometimes he reminded her of a panther, poised to pounce on his prey. The way his blue eyes locked on her like lasers and tracked her every movement while the rest of him remained unnaturally still only strengthened the image.
He would seize any opportunity she gave him, exploit it, use it without mercy until there was nothing left. That thought made her laugh, though not in amusement. He already had everything he needed to destroy her. He just hadn’t realized it yet.
With luck, he never would.
She hadn’t meant to fall in love with him. It was wrong on so many levels, not the least of which was the fact that he was her patient.
It also defied all known logic. They were as opposite as two people could possibly be. He was huge and arrogant; she was petite and demure. He had bronzed skin, jet black hair, and ice blue eyes; she was a pale, honeyed blonde with dove gray eyes. He barked; she whimpered.
Yet from that very first day, she had been his. She’d fought it with everything she had, but to no avail. She loved him, wholly and completely, as if he was the missing part of her soul. He was the very reason she could never find it in herself to go out with another man. There would be no point.
And he thought she was a weak, pathetic, steaming pile of dog poop.
Well, she thought, dabbing at her eyes one last time, maybe he was right. He certainly wasn’t the first man to form that opinion of her. Yes, he had been a real bear today, but for most of her life she had lived among people who hated her with a passion that made Seth’s words seem more like endearments, really.
Besides, he didn’t really mean them; he was just lashing out. Just as her gift allowed her to heal, it also allowed her to look beyond the gruff, cruel words and see a good man who had been hurt so very badly. He had sacrificed himself for his team and from the stories she’d heard, it wasn’t the first time he had done so.
She wouldn’t give up on him; she couldn’t give up on him. He needed more than standard therapy; he needed her healing touch if he was ever to recover fully. The damage his body had sustained would have killed an average man, but there was nothing average about Seth O’Rourke. Even so, if she hadn’t intervened when she had, the chances of him ever walking on his own again were practically non-existent.
Now it was mostly up to him, though her continued touch and the special massage oil would enhance his progress. She’d driven for hours last weekend to get it. Her grandmother had mixed it up for her, an ancient family remedy that worked miracles. Quinn was taking a chance by using it here, on him. If the director of the rehab center found out she was using unapproved products on her patients, she could lose her job. So far, Seth was the only one she had felt compelled to chance it with, but there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.
She sighed and dabbed at her face with the paper towel. A few hours of meditation in her studio apartment and a pot of herbal tea would allow her to seal some of those cracks he’d made in her defenses so she could wake up and do it all again tomorrow.
Chapter Two
“Getting too hot in the kitchen for you, sweetheart?” Seth started in on her before she had even wrapped her hands around the handles of his chair to push him into the hydrotherapy room. “Had to call in the big boys to take over for you yesterday?”
“Yep,” she said with an exaggerated sigh, engaging the brakes and pulling the hand straps within his reach. “You’re just too much man for me to handle.”
The move put her chest right in line with his face. Christ, she was killing him. If he leaned forward a scant couple of inches his face would be buried in her cleavage. The beast wanted to do just that. To nuzzle his head between her breasts while she stroked and scratched behind its ears. To lick her between her creamy thighs with its raspy tongue until she came for him.
He amended his thought from the day before: the woman had no sense of self-preservation at all.
Despite telling himself he would not give in
, he closed his eyes for a brief moment and inhaled her scent to calm the beast. It needed that, at least. Something that it could roll around in, something that was uniquely Quinn. She always smelled so good – warm and soft and feminine. It pissed him off to no end.
With the beast temporarily distracted, Seth smirked at her comment. She was feisty, he had to give her that. She was the only one who openly defied him. Everyone else either blatantly ignored his rudeness or requested reassignment, but not Quinn.
Was she just that stubborn, or did she view him as some kind of freak science project?
He grabbed on to the leather straps and lifted himself out of the chair, the muscles of his arms and shoulders bunching and flexing as he eased himself into the heated water with her tiny hands at his waist. At least he’d regained full use of his arms. The downside? She didn’t spend as much time massaging him as she used to.
She waited until he was submerged up to his waist to strap the belt around his chest and beneath his arms. The movement brought her close to his face again. Her cheek brushed his briefly even as the soft swells of her abundant breasts pressed into his shoulder. Fuck, but she was soft. And he was impossibly hard.
The beast howled in torment. “Jesus Christ, woman,” he ranted. “Quit rubbing yourself against me like a bitch in heat. I’m going to smell like fucking flowers.”
He didn’t know why he said the things he did, especially when Quinn’s soft skin and silky hair were the things he dreamed of night after night. Perhaps it was because he’d become so pathetic that he found himself shifting and adjusting just to steal the slightest of touches. Or maybe it was because he loved to see the fire blaze in those beautiful eyes, loved the way he could rile her.
He waited for a smart response, but when he didn’t get one, he pushed, sensing yet another slight crack in her defenses. He thought he might have hit upon something yesterday but it was so subtle he couldn’t be sure.
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