by Amanda Perry
“Where’d they take ya?” Grumpy’s tone is serious and scared now. He doesn’t want to hear what I’m saying as much as I don’t want to talk about it, but he should know. Maverick and Marak are part of the people who rescued us girls; maybe this can count as my statement so I don’t have to repeat myself.
“They drugged us, but it didn’t work well on me. I was out of it but awake. They shoved us into a van and drove forever until we got to a warehouse.” My body vibrates as I remember the next part. Grumpy takes my hand in his, holding onto me firmly.
“They took our clothes, then photographed us. I managed to get away for a split second, but I took a wrong turn. I went into some office where one of the freaks was talking to some older man. It slowed me down enough for them to catch me.” Grumpy’s grip on my hand tightens but not painfully. “There were a bunch of other girls they were trying to sell to perverted bastards. Jenna, the girl taken with me, was the only one that stayed with me the whole time. I did my best to keep the both of us safe. I think it helped they hated me. They also said some guy had picked me, and on the last day I was there, he was supposed to come for me.”
“Ya got gumption, Tayter-Tot.” Grumpy smirks, obviously hoping to lighten the mood. The sadness in his eyes remains, though.
“I get that from Grammy,” I quip with a light nudge to his shoulder.
Grumpy sobers up, as do I. “Did they hurt ya, Taylor?” His tone turns deadly.
“They hit me,” I admit with a deep sigh, avoiding the real meaning behind his question. “It was mostly some beatings when I tried to protect the other girls, but it was worth it.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Dr. Lenny murmurs quietly from the corner of the room where she and the four men remained while I talked with Grumpy. “I really need to get this IV into Taylor. She’s quite dehydrated, and we really need to get some fluids into her.”
“Well, what in tarnation ya waitin’ fer?” Grumpy shouts, startling the poor doctor. “Git the girl set up with tha good stuff. Why in the hell don’t she already got one of them tubes givin’ her what she needs.”
“She did until she woke up and tore it out,” Maverick pipes up. He doesn’t budge even as I pin him with my meanest glare.
Grumpy lightly presses my shoulder, making me lie down on the bed. He then goes about tucking the blanket in from my feet to my waist. Dr. Lenny proceeds with the IV in my good arm and sends amused glances to Grumpy. All the while, I laugh at Grumpy for making me into a burrito with the blanket. If the man had a staple gun on him, I have no doubt he’d staple the blanket down so I can’t get up. As a kid, any time I had an injury or illness, Grumpy would tuck me into a blanket as tight as possible. For a while, I thought it was a secret cure-all. The older I got, the more I came to realize he had no idea what would make me better, so he rolled me up and told me he’d go get Grammy. The real cure-all was the love he and Grammy gave me and how they simply cared for me when I was hurt or sick.
Dr. Lenny finishes the IV, then stands. “It was a pleasure to kind of meet you, Grumpy. I’ll be back to check on Taylor later.”
She sends a wide smile to Grumpy, who turns red and drops his eyes to the ground. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Grumpy blushed at Dr. Lenny’s attention—something I’ve never seen him do.
As soon as she’s gone, Maverick takes her spot on the stool sitting to the left of my bed. “Do you know the name of the man who was supposed to come for you?”
Maverick doesn’t appear to be the type to wait for a convenient time to do things. He wants information, and he’s going to get it. I can appreciate impatience. I have a hard time waiting for a Hot Pocket in the microwave.
“Nope.” I shake my head for emphasis. “They kept calling him the big boss. It’s the guy I saw when I tried to run that first day.”
Marak’s head shoots up. “You saw his face?”
“Yeah, he turned around when I ran into the area.” Lying my head back, I close my eyes as exhaustion hits me hard. “I guess he decided he liked me after seeing me. Sick bastard.”
“Fuck.” My eyes pop open again at Marak’s muted curse. I raise a brow, silently asking him to explain. “Taylor, you need to be careful. This guy is still out there, and we don’t know what his role in the whole thing is or was.”
My stomach drops at the news. “You didn’t catch him?”
“No.” Allistar enters the conversation, coming up with Syn to stand at the end of my bed. “We didn’t know about him until now. The other three men won’t be an issue ever again, but we didn’t know this one existed. The others didn’t make it out of that warehouse to tell us about him. I’m going to call the bureau now and let them know. We have security set up all over this floor, so you’re safe and so are the other girls.”
“Wait just one cotton pickin’ minute now, boy.” Grumpy holds up a hand to stop Allistar from talking. “If ya didn’t know ‘bout tha other guy, why the damn security, ‘n can someone tell me who in the hell y’all boys is?”
Maverick stands, holding a hand out to Grumpy. “I’m Maverick Harding. This is my team, Marak, Syn, and Allistar. We’re SWAT, and we helped in the retrieval of Taylor and the other girls who were being held against their will. We didn’t plan to take any risks until we were able to interview all the girls and ensure no one else was involved.”
Grumpy eyes Maverick for a while before finally grabbing his hand in a firm shake. “Thank y’all fer savin’ ma’ girl.”
“Our pleasure.” Maverick nods to Grumpy as Marak winks my way.
It surprises me, and I find myself wondering what it means. The only time I’ve ever been winked at was by lewd construction workers on my way to work as a teenager. One of them pinched my ass, and I socked him in the nuggets. No one winked after that day. Marak isn’t lewd or a construction worker, though.
Before I can give it much thought, Syn distracts me by tapping a light rhythm on my blanket-covered toes. I ignore him and listen to Maverick and Grumpy chatting, but Syn continues to tap in a rhythm almost like he’s playing a tune only he can hear. I finally look up and find him completely spaced out as he taps on my toes. He must not even realize what he’s doing. Marak notices Syn’s odd tapping, and at first, he smirks at his friend. His eyes shoot to mine and widen. I stiffen, wondering what could be wrong and watch as Marak pushes on Syn to gain his attention.
Marak glares at Syn, who stops his drum-tapping and pulls his hands away like I unexpectedly caught fire. “Sorry. It’s a habit.” He backs away a few steps, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“What?” I look from Syn to Marak, searching for answers to their odd behavior.
Allistar answers for them, “He knows better than to touch you. He’s generally more vigilant of his fidgeting habits when we’re working.”
My brow wrinkles in confusion. “Is that a SWAT thing or something?” It sounds like an odd rule, but I won’t pretend to know anything about SWAT and how any kind of law enforcement works.
“It’s part of our training.” Allistar shoots Syn a meaningful look. He sounds like he’s reading from a textbook as he continues, “You don’t touch a victim of abuse without permission, especially someone who has been through sexual trauma.”
“Syn should know that more than any of us since he’s our team’s medic.” Maverick shoots Syn a hard stare, and the poor guy blushes.
I raise my hand like I’m in a classroom. “Erm, I wasn’t . . . I mean, I didn’t go through . . . They didn’t touch me like that.” Saying the words out loud is harder than I anticipated. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for some of the girls who weren’t nearly as lucky as me.
“Are you sure about that? You could have been unconscious or drugged.” Syn’s tone is soft, and he remains at a distance. It doesn't sit well with me. I liked him drumming away on my toes to a song in his head more.
I nod to him, a blush staining my cheeks. “I’m sure. I was never unconscious long enough. Except for that last time when you guys fo
und me. They gave me something different that time, something stronger.”
“Maybe we oughta get that lady doctor to check on ya’, Tayter-Tot. Just in case n’ all.” Grumpy frowns down at his hands; his shoulders tense.
I relent easily because I’d rather have proof from a doctor also. There’s always a small chance that I don’t remember. “We can ask her, but I’d rather not have everyone in the room for it.” I avoid eye contact with everyone.
“Yer darn tootin’!” Grump sputters, much to my amusement. “Ya know I’d never let ‘em boys stay ‘round fer somethin’ like ‘at. Yer barely legal for Christ’s sake.”
I roll my eyes and press the call button for the doctor. “I’m nearly twenty-five, Grumpy. Nice try though.”
“The hell ya are,” he grumbles, standing up from his seat. “Ya won’t never be more’n a day over twelve ta me, girl.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I wave him off but laugh when he sticks his tongue out at me like a child. “Which one of us is twelve again?”
“Hush up, or I’ll make ya pick yer own switch when we get ya home.” If I had a nickel for every time Grumpy threatened to make me pick my own switch, I’d be able to use the money to buy myself a brand-new car. Of course, he’s never once followed through with his threat, but he loves to use it. My theory is he thinks it makes him sound tough. In truth, he’s a big, mushy, teddy bear, at least when it comes to me.
Dr. Lenny comes into the room as me and the four guys chuckle at Grumpy’s antics. He’s much less amused than we are, but it doesn’t stop me. “What can I do for you, Taylor?” She sends a quick wink to Grumpy who sputters, then pretends to not notice. What the hell is happening to him?
“My grandfather and these guys think I should get checked... Erm--” I hesitate for a moment, mortified to be talking about this in front of four strange men—four sexy strange men at that. I might have gone through a rough two weeks, but I’m not blind or dead. Even if I was, I’d probably still notice the four of them. “Get checked for trauma I might have missed.”
“Let’s step out, men. We could all use a cup of coffee anyway.” Maverick stands and ushers everyone out the door. Grumpy clearly wants to stay, but one look at my bright red cheeks, he follows the four men into the hall.
Dr. Lenny pats my arm gently as the door closes. “We already did an exam on you when you first showed up, Taylor. It’s standard for cases like yours and the other girls. We also did some labs. There was no sign of any sexual trauma.”
Even though I was pretty sure that was the case, I deflate at the confirmation. “That’s good news.”
Dr. Lenny nods her agreement, heads for the door, stops a few feet away, and turns back to me. “Your grandpa seems like a nice guy.”
Words elude me. All I can manage is a nod. Where is she going with this?
She chews on her lip for a second, then changes directions with the conversation. “Do you know Maverick and his team? Have you met them before?”
“Not before today, why?” I frown at her odd question even as my curiosity piques.
She waves her hand dismissively. “Just curious. I’ve known those boys for a long time. I used to babysit Marak when he was a baby. He introduced me to Maverick, Allistar, and Syn. They’re like surrogate nephews to me.”
“Oh.” I don’t say more because I’m not sure why she’s telling me about this.
Dr. Lenny leans against the door frame and crosses her arms, a small smile playing on her lips. “I just find it interesting the four of them have stuck around here all night and day.”
Her words strike me hard, my frown deepening. “Should I tell them to go home? Do you not want them around me or something?” Just because I was kidnapped and came in a dirty mess doesn’t mean I’m a piece of trash.
“No!” Her volume startles me, and I think she shocks herself as well. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing at all, Taylor. It just surprises me a bit. They’re a great group of guys. It’s not typical for them to hang around, that’s all. They usually make sure the people brought in are going to be okay, then they go home. I think they might want to befriend you, which doesn’t surprise me. You’re a nice girl. Just don’t get scared off by their weirdness and how close they are. The four of them can be crazy sometimes. I love them to death, of course. They’re family to me—”
“What are you rambling about, Trish?” Marak strolls into the room with a big coffee in one hand and a brown bag in the other. “You only do that when you’re nervous.”
“Shut it, Marak. I’ve got to go check on my other patients.” Dr. Lenny—Trish—spins around and rushes out of the room without another word.
Marak watches her leave and chuckles. “She’s fun to mess with. I love that lady.”
“She mentioned she was your babysitter when you were little.” I eye the bag, wishing I’d asked Grumpy to grab me something.
Marak plops down in the chair next to my bed. “Yeah, she watched me nearly every day until I started kindergarten. She was married then, and her husband wanted her home rather than working. She found a way around it by babysitting me. Our families are close, and she came to stay with us for a while after she ditched the douche she was married to.” He pauses long enough to take a sip of the coffee. “What did she say?”
For a second, I think he’s asking about her questions involving him and his friends, but I realize by his abrupt seriousness he means the exam she was supposed to do. “Oh, I was right, and everything’s fine. Apparently, she checked when you guys brought me in.”
Marak’s shoulders sag visibly. “That’s good news.”
“What’s good news?” Syn strolls into the room along with Grumpy, Maverick, and Allistar.
Marak takes another quick sip of his coffee before responding, “Trish said everything’s fine.”
“Oh, good!” Syn smiles widely, and my cheeks darken. It’s embarrassing to talk about such a thing with all of them.
“Thank the Lord fer that,” Grumpy agrees, clearly as uncomfortable as me. He changes the subject quickly by holding out a brown bag to me. “I gotcha food, Tayter-Tot. They didn’t have nothin’ fancy, but I got ya one a ‘em turkey sammiches on the fancy bread ya like so much. They had cheese fries, too, ‘n I know you’d live on ‘em greasy things if ya could.”
“You’re the best ever.” I snatch the bag from him and peek inside, inhaling the savory aroma of fries and a turkey croissant sandwich. I glance back up at Grumpy for a second and bite my lip. “Did you happen to find any—”
“I got yer damned diet crap,” he grumbles, pulling a bottle from his jacket pocket and handing it over to me. “That poison’s gonna be the death of ya. ‘N if ya hadn’t just gone through hell, I’d’ve never bought that shit.”
Waving off his complaints, I open the soda, take a long swig, then moan out loud. “Oh god, that’s so freaking good.”
“Well, damn, I never wished I was a beverage until now.” Syn smirks and wiggles his eyebrows, making me laugh.
Maverick elbows him in the side, and Grumpy pins him with a glare. “Watch it, boy. I may be old, but I can still tan yer hide if ya get outta line.”
Syn clears his throat, appearing contrite though also failing to hide his laughter. “Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again.”
I snort my disbelief, and Syn winks at me when Grumpy turns away.
“Alright, guys,” Maverick calls out with a roll of his eyes. “Taylor’s had a long day and so have we. We should give her and her grandfather some time to rest while we get some sleep.”
“Thank you all,” I mutter, picking at invisible lint from my sheet. “Thanks for saving me and for hanging around for a while.”
Allistar straightens up. “We can come back later if you’d like.” Normally, I’d assume his offer is only to be polite, but Allistar seems sincere. Marak and Syn nod eagerly at the idea. Maverick’s face remains impassive as he watches me, waiting for an answer.
Something about them piques my interest. They’re nice, an
d they rescued me, sure. But it’s the way they are together that makes me want to spend more time with them. They’re not like a typical group of friends. From what I’ve seen, they’re more like family. It reminds me of the relationship I have with Evelyn and Michelle. Maybe Dr. Lenny was right, and they want to be my friends. I could always use more friends, and if four hot men want to hang around with me, who am I to deny them?
Without diving deeper into my interest in them, I find myself nodding. “Yeah, if you guys want to come back and hang out, I’d like that.”
They agree to show up when they know I’ve had time to rest and relax. I thank them again before they leave and settle back into bed, holding my bag of food and soda close. Grumpy rolls his eyes at me as I take another long drink of my soda before touching my food.
“Yer impossible, Tayter-Tot.” He watches me shove an extra cheesy fry into my mouth. “Ya just had a horrible go of it, ‘n yer eatin’ fries like it ain’t no big deal. I’m fixin’ ta lose my mind if ya don’t talk ta me soon.”
“I’m fine, Grumpy,” I mumble around another bite of fries. I swallow hard and meet his gaze. “It sucked, it was terrifying, I was worried. It was all a big mess, but I made it out. The other girls made it out. It ended in the best way possible. You know I’m not going to sit here and think about all the bad things when there are too many good things to focus on right now. If I focus on the bad stuff, I’ll just turn into a jittery mess, and it won’t be good for anyone.”
“Ya always were a glass a sweet tea half-full kinda gal,” he muses with a rare grin. “Just like yer Grammy.”
“When life gives you lemons,” I start, knowing he’ll finish for me.
He doesn’t disappoint. “Put a slice in yer sweet tea.”
“She loved to say that when things weren’t great.” My chest tightens the way it always does when I think of my grandmother.