“The opiates are missing, ever since you had access to that cabinet. It’s okay, Hannah, I’m here for you now.” He reached up and caught a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his finger. The beauty of his face distorted as his cruel eyes bored into hers. Oh yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing. How had she ever been drawn to such a manipulator? “Listen to me. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Just come with me. No one has to know what you’ve done.”
It would be her word against his. He’d turn everyone against her with his lies. He’d isolate her from everything and everyone until it was too late. She’d look guilty.
“I understand why you gave them to your father,” he said. “He was in pain. You didn’t know that he’d get into that accident because of it. I don’t blame you.” Ryan almost made her feel like that was what really happened. “The police might say differently,” he said. “That’s not just manslaughter in Vermont, Hannah. It’s drug-induced homicide.”
“That’ll never stick.”
“I have the autopsy report—they found the drugs in your dad’s system.”
She hesitated. Had her father taken drugs? No, what a lie! But she didn’t put it past Ryan to use his vast wealth and influence to secure those kinds of results.
He cracked a smile. “C’mon, Hannah, let’s stop fighting and go home.”
“No.” She twisted her hand from his grip and ran for the hospital. Her keys clattered to the ground.
He didn’t let her get far. He took her by the waist, tearing her back with a fistful of her hair. “Stop running! You always run!” He slammed her against his SUV. Her chin rebounded against the metal. A jolt of pain shot through the bones of her jaw. He ripped open the door and shoved her inside. The door slammed shut behind her.
She watched his shadow go around the hood on his way to the driver’s side. Gasping, her eyes alighted on the automatic door locks. She jammed down the button with shaking fingers. The locks clicked into place.
His hand jerked against the handle. “Hannah, let me in!”
The keys were in the ignition. Oh, thank you, thank you, God! Ryan had left them inside. Whispering a prayer of gratitude, she scooted over the seat and the console with only a window between her and the man who would tear her limb from limb for defying him. She turned the key, and his SUV roared to life. She’d driven it plenty of times. She put it in reverse, speeding out of the parking lot.
She needed to get away to where no one would find her. Her mind went to The Mountain Cove with its fortress of security. If they kept the billionaires safe, they’d keep her safe. She’d just have to duck Rosabel and she’d be all right. She dug into her purse. Somehow it had stayed attached to her shoulder. Miracles all over the place. This whole day had been one, from getting away from Ryan to the job offer. She dialed Julie Ward, choking down her emotion so that she didn’t sound so panicked. “Julie, Julie, I want the job.”
“That is fantastic news! When do you want to start?”
“Right now.”
Chapter Three
Jett stared at the wall. He’d barely moved into this luxurious mansion in the woods before his place got taken over by his friends. Aaron was trying to be helpful. He wasn’t. It was ten o’clock at night, and the party showed no signs of slowing down. His leg was on fire … no, the stump that held his prosthetic leg was on fire. Everything else was a phantom pain.
Aaron Mills came out from the back in his swimsuit, leaving a gaggle of girls screaming for him to return. A tall man with dirty brown hair, a square jaw, and Frank Sinatra eyes, Aaron was made for scandal. Carrying drinks, he handed one to Jett. “Scoot over, punk. Stop taking over the whole couch.”
Jett’s eyes narrowed at him. Treating Jett like nothing was different was Aaron’s idea of bringing him back into the real world. Jett didn’t feel like pretending tonight, and he didn’t move.
His friend’s eyes ran over Jett’s Hard Rock T-shirt and striped suit pants. Jett had rolled up his right pant leg, showing the world exactly what they were dealing with. He had an above-the-knee amputation and wore a prosthetic leg with knee and ankle joints. The best design out there.
Everyone said he was lucky. He didn’t feel lucky.
When he’d woken up in the hospital, Harry was dead and Jett had missed his best friend’s funeral. Everything had changed. Jett’s pelvis was shattered, along with an ankle. The damage to his right leg was devastating. After months of chronic pain with a fused spine and a leg that refused to heal, Jett developed Complex Regional Pain Syndrome.
The nerve damage was so bad that every time he put any pressure on his foot, he’d feel a pain so sharp, it made his actual injuries feel like nothing. He was given the option of living with CRPS for the rest of his life or having the leg amputated. The decision was easy. Gritting his teeth, Jett signed the papers and opted for the above-the-knee amputation. He just wanted the pain to go away.
They said he could have his life back, but nothing felt any easier. Now he dealt with the flare-ups in the stump, which made it hard to put the prosthetic on. It had been eighteen months since the accident and six months since the surgery, and he still wasn’t walking right. He depended on a wheelchair most of the time.
Now Aaron was after him to get out of it. Typical. They’d started out as climbing buddies back in the day, and there wasn’t a rule that Aaron didn’t find a way to break. Of course, he’d try to talk a man without a leg to climb. There was no way that was happening.
“Hey, get your swimsuit on,” Aaron told Jett. “The girls want to see your washboard abs.”
“Jett! C’mon, Jett!” Girls shrieked and giggled from the Jacuzzi room. It was a masterpiece of architecture, catching the stars like a Christmas globe while showing the best views of the lake outside. Jett would rather be out there alone than endure everyone’s sidelong glances.
“I need you!” That was Darcy.
Jett lifted a brow at his friend. Aaron’s latest flame was a spunky blonde who threw tantrums when he was gone for too long. She wasn’t against flirting with other guys to make Aaron jealous, either, even if she couldn’t meet eyes with Jett when they were actually face-to-face.
“Are you talking about me or Jett, babe?” Aaron asked with a laugh.
“Jett,” she called out. “How else will I get him to name his next invention after me?”
“Hey!” Aaron’s nose wrinkled. “You keep talking that way, Darcy, and I’ll break this invention over his beautiful head.” Those were just the scandalous comments that made Aaron’s PR guy have to work overtime. Aaron was the CEO of the highly popular mEDIAwAR app, an alternative source of media and advertisement that gave YouTube, Twitter, and Facebook a run for their money. He was possibly the most irresponsible success story Jett had ever met. Aaron smiled down at him. “You coming out or what?”
Not a chance. It didn’t feel right to be laughing and talking in a Jacuzzi when Harry was dead. It was Jett’s fault their friend wasn’t there with them with his arm around his beautiful wife. It had been a couple of months since Jett had heard from Ellie. Of course that angel said she didn’t blame him for the accident, but now she had a one-year-old baby named after his dead father.
Jett shook his head. “Why can’t you hold your parties at your own place?” Aaron had moved across the way a few months earlier into his own outlandish cabin in this mountain retreat.
“And miss a perfectly good chance to eat your food? I think not.”
Jett sighed. There was no getting rid of the man. He’d been one of the few of his friends to stay by Jett’s side during this whole ordeal. Jett wasn’t sure what he’d do without him, but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t have retreated to Eureka Springs to lick his wounds, though it was a great escape from the media attention … and perhaps his guilt as well.
Huxley let out a howl that startled them both. Jett’s dog was a gray Irish wolfhound. Well-behaved normally, but restless now that Jett had been confined to a chair. He sniffed around Jett’s
armpit, pushing him back with his great, lumbering body before settling on the ground near his foot.
Jett shifted against the white couch to find a more comfortable position against his throw pillows. “I hope you dropped that idea about finding someone to help me climb.”
Aaron shrugged. “I talked to Asher about advertising the position today. His wife’s grandmother knows some girl …”
Jett’s eyes bulged. He knew some girl? From this small town? Was Aaron crazy? Jett didn’t go easy on physical therapists. He’d chased three out already. This wouldn’t go over well.
“Hey!” Aaron started talking faster now. “What can it hurt?”
Only his pride. In theory, Jett had every advantage. He’d contacted a friend in the medical industry who’d referred him to a surgeon to give him the “Ewing Amputation”—a highly advanced procedure that allowed the brain to interact with the prosthetic limb by relinking the muscles to the legs and implanting sensors to enable pointing and flexing his prosthetic toes. There were a few complications: the pinching, the nerve disorders, and the side effects of the medication that put him on edge, like he was right now. He set his drink aside, and it splashed all over the side table. “You have no business interfering.”
“Hey, man, you’ve got a lot of mobility left, especially with your surgery. It was a chance of a lifetime. You’re lucky!”
He was lucky … lucky … Everyone always said he was lucky. Jett just wanted everything to be the way it used to be, not be grateful for the crumbs he had left. “Oh really? I’m lucky? You see I’m missing a leg, right? You’ve got a way to grow it back? As far as I can see, I’m the unluckiest man alive since I’m stuck here with you and your loud, obnoxious friends.”
It was all out before he knew it, and there was no taking it back. He’d chased away his own family members for less.
As if things weren’t horrible enough, Aaron’s cousin decided to enter the fray. Dominic’s bare feet padded across the slick, polished granite floor. He slapped back his wet black hair, so black it looked like it had been dipped in the oil from his father’s business. “Dude, what’s taking you so long?”
Aaron ignored him. His eyes narrowed on Jett, taking on that steely look he got before clashing with a business competitor. “You going to sit there all day feeling sorry for yourself, or are you going to show us what the great Jett Eastwood can do? You’re the one who pushes your limits. You’re the one who shows the impossible is possible! Guys without even half the advantages of your surgery and your prosthetics have been known to climb. You ought to be ashamed. Stop acting like you died with Harry!”
Jett was more surprised than angry. It was like Aaron had reached inside Jett to pull out his guts and found nothing there. Jett wasn’t the fighter that Aaron thought he was. He took a deep breath. “You gonna make me? Is that it?”
Aaron set his glass on the table, his breathing ragged. For a moment, Jett was afraid he’d pushed him too far, but instead his friend marched up to his wheelchair and shoved it away from his reach. “What’s so good about that thing? Huh? It must have the most amazing cushion to make you sit on your backside all day. I ought to get one of these for myself!”
Huxley lifted his head, his doggy tongue dragging over his sharp teeth as he studied the fighting humans.
Dominic slurped on his drink, watching with interest. Jett didn’t appreciate Aaron’s socialite cousin listening in during his weakest moments. “What’s going on?” Dominic’s voice was low and grumbly, sounding like the stereotypical villain that he looked like. “Are you coming out or what?”
Aaron scowled at him. “Oh, get out of here.”
Dominic made a sound of disgust. “Gladly.” He disappeared back into the Jacuzzi room, following the sound of the giggling women, most notably Darcy’s alluring call. Jett had already sniffed out that danger, but Aaron didn’t get that his cousin was after his girlfriend. The guy sure knew how to pick his friends. Clearly. That worked in Jett’s benefit.
“Aaron, I’m lonely,” Darcy called. “Come back!”
Jett laughed, feeling the hard edge, but seeing the humor too. “Yeah, man, why are you out here with me?”
Aaron broke into a chuckle himself. “Hard telling.” He studied Jett like he was trying to figure him out, but Jett didn’t even know. He just wanted everyone to go away, but Aaron wouldn’t. And … he was glad.
A knock sounded on the door from the hallway, and Veronica, Jett’s beautiful and efficient personal assistant, walked inside without an invitation, wearing a red dress the exact shade of her brilliant red hair that swayed with her hips. Even at this time of night, she was dressed to the teeth. She marched over to him, her heels clicking against the hard granite as she nudged the Irish wolfhound to the side. “Asher’s grandmother brought some lady in scrubs.” She rolled her eyes. “She insists that you’re expecting them.”
Aaron perked up. As if on cue, the chatter from the women outside grew louder in a wave, their voices mingling with Dominic’s low baritone laughter.
Veronica’s full lips pinched like she’d swallowed a lemon. Jett knew without her saying that she disapproved of Aaron’s party. He saw it in her eyes, the stiff way she patted her hair. She’d grown even more protective of Jett after the accident, and it was annoying. “Should I send her away?”
Now Jett was torn on whether he’d rebel against Veronica or Aaron. The arrogant lift of her chin decided him. “No, bring her in.”
Aaron looked surprised, then hopeful. And no way did Jett want to conduct this interview with the interlopers outside. The extra distance to his wheelchair didn’t stop him. He set his weight on both his residual leg and the prosthetic and dragged himself off the couch, feeling like Long John Silver as he swaggered to his wheelchair. Above-knee amputations took a longer time to adapt to walking, but with the residual pain in his nerves, it was taking even longer. He fell more often than not, which was embarrassing in present company. He made up for it by not taking chances in front of anyone.
He sat heavily in his wheelchair, and Aaron immediately got behind it to push him after Veronica’s retreating back. Of course, his friend had ulterior motives for coming along. He’d try to talk Jett into working with this girl. Jett would defy them all before the night was over.
Huxley let out a whine and, with his tail wagging, followed them out the door to Jett’s office. The library inside had cost Jett a fortune. He’d categorized them according to genres like a used bookstore, and it smelled like one too. Jett loved books almost as much as he’d loved adventuring, which was a good thing, since he had plenty of time to read these days.
Aaron wheeled him to his desk, and Jett’s eyes slid over the tiny rock he’d placed on top. What a sentimental fool he was. He wanted to give Harry’s kid that rock. It was the same one they’d picked out on the mountain before the tragedy—the heart of the mountain, actually. This accident had uncovered Jett for the coward he was. He couldn’t face the glitter of anger he’d detected in Charlie’s eyes the last time he’d seen him. Harry’s two youngest were too small to understand, but Charlie did. He was almost seven now, and he’d depended on Jett to bring his dad back safely.
The flickering hope Aaron had brought with his little climbing idea died as the truth ate at him. He scorned the chair at the desk and took the chaise lounge instead. Why not? He didn’t care what this lady thought of him. He’d chase this physical therapist away like he did the others.
There was no graceful way to get off his wheelchair. He pushed off the arms, no longer wanting to impress anyone as he unceremoniously dumped himself onto the chaise lounge, scooting against the back of it. His hands went to his prosthetic. It pinched horribly. “Get this thing off me.”
Veronica bent to help him, but he did most of the work, pushing down the button to release it. The prosthetic came right off, and he went at the seal ring next, pulling off the sleeve to free the stump. The muscle was shrinking, and the skin was loose around it. He let out a disgusted sigh and l
eaned back with a foul expression, his elbow supporting his weight while he glared at the door. Now he was ready for guests. Veronica left to retrieve them while Huxley settled onto the hardwood floor in front of Jett, adding to his forbidding presence.
Aaron lifted a brow. “Are you trying to scare her away?”
Jett only smiled in return. He hoped it was a dangerous one.
Shrugging, Aaron took on a philosophical expression. “It’s probably best to see what she’s made of.”
Exactly. People would do a lot of things for money. Jett would make sure she knew this wouldn’t be worth it.
The door opened and his elbow slipped under him when he saw the willowy woman in scrubs glide ethereally into the room. Hello, nurse! She didn’t wear makeup—maybe some lip gloss, but she was gorgeous in her classic beauty. Her long, black hair was caught up in a floppy bun, bringing all his attention to her dark defined brows knitted over concerned blue eyes. She looked fragile and vulnerable and sweet at the same time. When she cracked a smile, her eyes crinkled up at the sides. Yeah, she seemed fun, too.
He straightened, then inwardly mocked himself for his reaction. He hated that she saw him like this. Jett never thought a woman would ever find him attractive again, and he’d dreaded this moment of finding someone he could actually like. Fear and disappointment took turns digging into his gut. He wanted this woman out. He cleared his throat. “You’ve come to look at the freak show?”
“Freak show?” She tilted her head. “Are you … joking?”
He felt like an idiot. She didn’t seem intimidated, only confused. Her smile, which already seemed a little tired, turned unsure, like maybe she was trying to understand his sense of humor.
An older lady pushed up behind her, wearing an arm brace. He recognized Asher’s grandmother. Julie Ward, was it? She carried in a basket of treats and pushed them into his hands, ignoring the threat of Huxley and treating him like a child. “I brought you a housewarming gift, my dear.”
Her Broken Hero Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 8) Page 3