“Well, Gary, I’ve been waiting for this moment.” Julien moved so Gary got another good look at the instrument. “Do you know what this is? Aw sorry, you can’t answer. But you’re sure gonna feel it.
“This is a burdizzo. A pliers-like device which will crush the duct and arteries to your nuts. Unfortunately, there’s frequent nerve damage, if only by accident. I assure you, it will be no accident tonight.” Julien hesitated to let his meaning sink in.
“What that means to you is first—pain. Lots and lots of pain. Surely not close to what you’ve caused Adara, but it’s the best I could come up with on short notice. Second, your cajones are gonna die, be absorbed into your body. You’re not going to rape another woman, ever. But don’t worry, we’ll take care of you, make sure the word gets spread in your cell block that you’ll need some extra TLC.”
Gary couldn’t scream, but Julien felt his fear. Smelled it. It was justice for Adara.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Adara groaned and tried to turn over. Pain suffused every nerve in her body. Confusion mounted when her cottony mouth wouldn’t work. A feather-light touch glided down her arms and stroked lazy circular patterns back up again. She tried to open her eyes, yet they wouldn’t obey. Even so—she knew that touch. She sighed.
“Not yet, sweetheart. Go back to sleep. Healing sleep.” Julien’s voice, soft, soothing. She always obeyed.
When she tried to open her eyes again, someone held her hand, gently caressing her palm with their thumb. She knew before she saw him. Again, Julien.
He sat in the chair by her bed, his upper body leaning against her mattress. Light streamed in through the window and highlighted his dark hair, her knight in shining armor who’d rescued her once again.
“Hey, sleepyhead. How’re you feeling?” With a gentle caress, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smoothed the frown lines on her face.
“Um, fine.” Her dry lips stuck together, the least of her discomfort.
“Adara?”
She knew that voice and answered honestly. “I hurt. All over.” This time her eyelids obeyed and remained open. She lay in a hospital bed.
The windows to her left showcased dirty clouds scuttling across the sky. First floor. Tree limbs swayed in the breeze, their leaves waving in frantic motion. A storm was building. It paralleled that which formed in her soul.
A multitude of odd odors drifted to her nostrils. She’d never been a patient in a hospital before, but remembered all the lines connected to her mom after the accident.
“Yeah, I know, hon.” He reached over and picked up a gray cord attached to a pump on an IV stand and pressed a black button on the end. The resulting beep echoed in the quiet room.
“This is a PCA pump, sweetheart. When you’re in pain, just push this button and it delivers a dose of medicine, or tell me and I’ll do it for you. Don’t worry about taking too much, it will only deliver a certain amount and only so often. You can’t over medicate.”
She turned her head away as recent memories assaulted her mind. Tears stung her eyelids.
“No, Adara, don’t look away from me. You’re a survivor. You’re alive, and that’s what matters. We’ll deal with everything.” With a gentle hand, he turned her head to face him.
“Look at me, sweetheart. They will never hurt you again. I swear it.”
“I heard a shot…” Her gaze locked with his. “Who?”
“Tony’s dead. I’m…” He looked like he was going to apologize but stopped himself.
“I’m not sorry. Not at all.” She licked cracked lips. “Nika?” Her fuzzy recollection of Nika barking, a gunshot, then silence swirled along the edges of her consciousness. Then cowering in the corner after locking the bedroom door. Tony’s victory howl as that same door smashed inward. Hands that dragged her, bloody and beaten, down the stairs and outside.
Her stomach revolted. Dry heaves racked her body. Lightheadedness assaulted her as she shifted and turned to her side. The soft sound of Julien’s voice as he brushed the hair from her face and supported her shoulders brought her back to the present.
“There now…better? Lie back and relax. Nika will be good as new in a couple of weeks. It was iffy for a while, but she’ll be fine. Marc’s taken her back until she’s recovered. Here, you can have some ice chips.” Taking a cup of ice, he spooned some into her mouth, but winced when his gaze drifted to her neck.
There’d be bruises lining each side. “Sorry, Julien.” She didn’t like making him feel bad.
His incredulous look startled her. “Sorry? You’re telling me you’re sorry?” Unshed tears brimmed his eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve seen this coming.”
“Hey, guys.” Nate led the group of visitors into her room.
Marc, Conner, Sherri, and Alyssa crowded close to her bed. The scent of roses and peonies flowed through her mind as she noticed the flowers covering the tables in the corner. With Julien’s presence filling the space, she hadn’t noticed them before. The private room didn’t surprise her with Julien at her side. At least she could accommodate guests and the attention directed her way without disturbing others.
Sherri came forward and took her other hand. “Hey, girl. You look a little better. Got some color in your cheeks.” She vaguely remembered their voices last night, nothing specific.
“Hey, you two. How’re you feeling, Adara?” Conner stepped to the foot of her bed, his gaze intense despite the smile on his face.
“Better, now that everyone’s here…” Overwhelmed with their good feelings, she felt tears sting the back of her eyelids.
“Thought you guys should know…they raided Simmie’s house. Found information on both of you, Graham, his significant other, and two other women. Also the drug he used to lace Nika’s steak. Looks like he’s the one who set the envelope under your windshield, Julien.” Conner smiled at Adara. “You’re free now, Adara, no more threats, eavesdropping, or looking over your shoulder.”
Julien leaned forward and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “We did it, hon. You can do anything you want now.”
“Right now, I just want to be normal, whatever that is.”
“Oh, I almost forgot, Maura has hounded me every hour at work. You probably don’t remember her stopping by, but she wants you to know she’s thinking about you. I told her you’d call when you felt up for her to visit.” Nate’s mock exasperation belied the mischief dancing in his gaze.
Alyssa crowded right beside Sherri. “Hey, Adara. Can I get you anything?”
In the short time she’d known the two women, they shared a camaraderie she treasured.
“Actually, I’m hungry.” Surprise echoed in the faces surrounding her.
“Well, I think that’s our cue, hon, what would you like?” Marc stepped up to the foot of her bed and wiggled her big toe.
“Anything…”
“Sure enough, good food coming right up…” Marc said, glancing over his shoulder at Conner. “Come on, guys, let’s go get some grub. We’ll check with her nurse and come back for an indoor campout.”
When Julien’s cell rang, Nate reached over and snagged it from his hip. “Nothing greasy, Marc, okay?” His voice trailed behind as he left the room..
“Hey, little brother, I’m not a complete moron. How about a sub from Joe’s, Adara? You up for that? Nate asked.
“Mmm, sounds good, hold the hot peppers though.”
“No oil, no mayo, Marc,” Julien added.
“Yes, Mom.” Marc’s smile froze, and both men stilled. The room became deathly quiet.
“What’s wrong?” Adara’s gravelly voice, hoarse from screaming, broke the silence.
“Nothing, sweetheart. Nothing’s wrong. Has the pain medicine kicked in?” Julien gently squeezed her hand.
“It’s helping a lot.”
Nate walked back in, frowning. “Hey, Julien, that call…I think it’s some kind of misinformation. A woman from Felton Rehabilitation Center said to tell you Sarah passed thi
s morning.”
“Who’s Sarah?” Marc asked.
* * * *
Blood drained from Julien’s face, along with any coherent thoughts he might hope to have. The coldness setting up camp would be a permanent fixture, another organ that supplied his conscience with fresh supplies of guilt every day. Sarah—dead? The nurse had said it could happen, MRSA sometimes ended in death with comatose patients. But how could it happen to Sarah? Her life shouldn’t be over.
“Oh God.” He closed his eyes, shook his head to clear it. “No. She can’t die.” His chin dropped to his chest as he ran his fingers through his hair, then looked at Marc. Marc should remember. He’d helped with the case.
“Julien? What’s wrong? What’s this about?” Conner moved around the bed toward him.
Marc nodded to Conner and Nate, signaled them to take the ladies out of the room. Each looked at Julien with concern as they filed out. Marc knew about Sarah and the epic failure that ended with breathing tubes and central IVs.
“Julien? Are you okay? Was she a good friend?” The quaver in Adara’s voice gained strength.
He never wanted to hurt Adara. He never meant to hurt Sarah either. Yet Sarah died, thanks to him.
He’d already proven he couldn’t protect a woman. The room spun as he tried to get his breathing under control. No good, this was no good.
“Nate?” Julien looked to his brother closing the door, the one who always understood him, and the one who always read him first.
“Yeah, Julien, what do you need? Why don’t you sit back in the chair and put your feet up.” Nate tried to push Julien back but was shoved sideways as Julien stood.
“I have to go, get out of here.” Julien looked at Adara, unshed tears in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I can’t do this. I have to go. I’m so, so sorry.”
Tears streamed down her face.
They shared a connection and he could see the truth in her gaze. She knew he wouldn’t return.
“So, I’ve been a science project. Something you can work out, fix, then move on?” Her breath caught on a sob, her eyes pleading with him. “Please, don’t leave…”
He couldn’t look at her—he’d broken her heart, body, and soul. “You’ll be safe now, Adara. You’re safe.” He could never again meet her gaze. “I love you.” He turned away. “Nate? Take care of her.” His last words echoed in the room and mocked his exit as he walked out of her life.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sand invaded every aspect of Julien’s being as he sat in the middle of the construction area. The workers had left after discussing plans for pouring concrete. Preparations were near complete after dumping the load of sand needed for the base.
The setting sun at his back drew colorful shades over the earth to ridicule his wasted efforts. Soon it would represent the bleakness of his thoughts. In his mind, he knew he’d done the right thing. Another tear joined the rest to form small golden lumps, reminding him of a time at a beach when he’d sought solace.
The look in Adara’s eyes before he’d walked away burned bright in his mind. His fingers sifted through the fine grains that would form the floor to the large greenhouse. The contractor had carefully planned and placed the drains to sit between each row. Like any other project, he would see it through to completion. Then what? Sell the house?
The most important people in one’s life left imprints. The greenhouse would exist as a glass and concrete memorial to the woman he loved. A woman he’d failed. A woman almost killed by his ignorance. How much more of an impression would he leave on her heart?
His brothers weren’t aware of the special permits he’d obtained, or rushing the contractor who’d located the specific materials to make the structure a spectacular secluded haven for Adara. He couldn’t talk to them—their pitying looks unraveled the remnants of his spirit. He hadn’t been to the office in a week, afraid she’d be there.
He wondered if their budding love had transformed into a seething hatred. Her body might not be present, but her essence filled his house as well as his soul.
He couldn’t sleep in his bed, couldn’t even look at his kitchen counter. Her spirit filled the atmosphere such that he couldn’t breathe in the house. He’d fallen asleep the prior evening, near where he now sat, awakened this morning by cooing of a morning dove.
* * * *
Adara couldn’t catch her breath. The fourth panic attack since she’d gotten out of the hospital decimated her once-calm demeanor. Julien wouldn’t return her calls. She didn’t have the nerve to go to his house. The office remained off-limits since other people were there.
Maura had left a dozen messages but she didn’t have the heart to talk about anything. Unable to stand their pitying looks, she remained isolated. Sherri and Alyssa called every day but couldn’t convince her to go out with them.
At least Nate understood. Yesterday he’d called and brought a recovering Nika to stay with her for a while. The shepherd had as much skill reading her as Julien. The warmth of her fur as she lay curled close by lent a semblance of calm. The large bandage circling her abdomen was a constant reminder of how Adara’s problems obliterated others’ lives. Graham and his significant other—dead. Not that she’d shed a tear for her uncle, but death followed in her wake.
The only man she’d ever loved couldn’t stand the sight of her and she had no idea why. Nate and Sherri had brought her home from the hospital after she refused to go anywhere else. Without urging, they found and removed all whips and torture implements from the place she’d called home, all the while making excuses for Julien.
Nate wouldn’t tell her about the mystery of Sarah. The only comfort he provided was to tell her Sarah wasn’t an ex-wife or ex-lover.
Memories of Julien’s face as he left the hospital room haunted her, just as the house ensured she endured continued nightmares. Everything belonged to her. With Uncle Tony buried in a cemetery miles away from her parents’ resting place and her cousin and Simmie denied bail while looking at long jail terms, she could finally stop glancing over her shoulder. At least her body would mend. Her mind would never heal. Her soul remained as desiccated as her heart.
She’d have to return to testify at her cousin’s trial. Until then, she couldn’t stay in the house. When Julien’s attorney called and outlined her inheritance, her mind remained too numb to absorb the facts. He must’ve known. The thick pouch of hand-delivered papers gave the details, but she couldn’t concentrate on them. She’d told him she would get to them in a few days. Her birthday had come and gone in solitude.
All she did was cry. Each time, Nika whined and laid her head on Adara’s feet. How many times had she wished she’d died, tied to the desk, choking on Gary’s shaft? That pain didn’t compare to what surged through her now. She’d survived years of abuse to ascend into the light, only to die of heartache.
The empty house mocked her, the need for escape all-consuming. Not another minute. She fumbled for her cell phone on the coffee table. For the first time in her life, she had money and control of her life. It felt good to make her own decisions. After pressing the speed dial button and a brief hesitation. “Nate?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Two weeks had passed since Adara left the hospital and Julien still felt like the walking dead, accentuated by the jeans sagging on his hips. Conner nagged about him eating. The fact he hadn’t passed out and functioned on a minimal basis proved he’d eaten something. Each day for the past week, he’d come in, sat in his office, and looked out at Adara’s desk.
The other assistants and investigators cut a wide swath around him, yet judging by the way Conner drummed his fingers on the conference table and frowned, his tolerance had reached its limit.
Each brother smiled.
I smell an ambush coming.
“And that concludes today’s meeting. Same time next week, folks.” Conner’s air of authority carried an unfathomable mix of hidden agenda and intent.
“What’s going on?
” Julien crossed his arms over his chest, grinding his teeth at the thought of revealing nonverbal irritation.
“Surprised you noticed they left, little bro,” Marc replied.
“Funny, Marc.”
“Actually, we’ve decided you need a little fun in your life again,” Marc added.
Julien gave them the look. “I’m not in the mood, guys.”
“Yeah, we can see exactly what kind of mood you’ve been in, and have collectively decided we’ve had enough of it,” Nate quipped.
“Mmm, you have, have you?”
“Yeah, you’re gonna take a vacation. Get your mind in gear again,” Nate said, deadpan.
Julien looked around at his brothers and frowned.
Marc smirked.
Julien’s snort confirmed he didn’t give a damn. “Thanks, but no thanks, fellas.”
Nate’s hand on his shoulder prevented him from standing.
“Now, don’t be like that, bro. You don’t even know what we have in mind…”
“Alyssa and I were thinking about hitting a tropical island,” Marc added.
Julien stilled before answering, studying Marc as if he were a panther ready to leap. “No. Final. Can we get back to business here?”
“That’s cool. I’ve got something else in mind, anyway,” Conner said, sitting directly across from Julien. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman. Time to get back in the saddle. Anybody got specific ideas?”
Julien shook his head and scrubbed his hand down his face. “Jesus.”
“Sorry, Conner, I’ve got my hands full. You looking to get laid or for a long-term submissive?” Marc asked.
“Now that you mention it, I’d have to say both…and I happen to know of a blue-eyed, black-haired beauty who just might fit the bill,” Conner replied with a smirk. He might’ve thought he was ready for the onslaught of his brother’s temper. He’d thought wrong.
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