“What?”
“I filed a report and sent it off to the local PD. They will be here shortly to speak with you.”
Colt ran a hand through his hair and paced a few steps, then came back to stop in front of the man. “You mean someone did this?”
“The force of the impact, the gash on the head, and the angle of the wound would imply she was hit over the head, rather than falling,” Doctor Madden replied. “We’ve stopped the bleeding. Hopefully, she will soon awaken; however, she was unconscious when they brought her in.”
“Thanks, Doctor,” Chelsea said, her mind whirling from the information.
“If you will excuse me,” he said in an apologetic manner before returning through the door from which he came earlier.
“What the hell is happening?” Colt blurted out as soon as Dr. Madden was out of earshot.
“I know,” she agreed. “It’s weird.”
He turned to her, his eyes hard. “First, you were kidnapped, and now this.”
Chelsea’s heart seemed to have leaped to her throat as Colt made the statement. Now that Colt mentioned both incidents, she was apt to believe that Jason figured out that Zoey spoke with her. The possibility was likely given that he followed them around. He may have been keeping his eyes on his sister.
The more she thought about it, her suspicion of Jason grew. There was a reason that he and Zoey didn’t get along. She wondered what that reason was.
“What are you thinking?” Colt asked, breaking through her thoughts.
“Nothing,” she said, managing to smile.
He didn’t seem to buy it. “Come on, tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.”
She fidgeted with the strap of her handbag while she settled her mind on telling him what she thought. Knowing Colt, he’d fly off the handle at the merest mention of Jason’s name. She hadn’t even told him her suspicion that his stepbrother was responsible for her kidnapping. She decided against saying anything.
“Seriously, I was just wondering who could have done this,” she replied, brightening her face.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I think we should go up to the ICU to see her.”
“Do you think she’s awake?”
She wasn’t sure, but it was better than standing around waiting. “I don’t know, but I want us to be there when she regains consciousness.”
He agreed. “You’re right.”
The ICU was a floor above; a quieter, seemingly more sterile environment. The smell of the hospital disinfectant was pungent. It seemed they were in a different world altogether with how silent the ward was. Even the nurses at the desk spoke in hushed tones.
“Hello,” Chelsea almost whispered.
A dark haired nurse with a honey complexion raised her eyes with a smile. “Yes?” her tone was low.
“Zoey Williams, where is she? We are family.”
“Third door on your left, down the passage.”
“Thank you.”
Their footsteps broke through the silence as they made their way to Zoey’s room. Colt paused at the door and looked through the square glass panel. Chelsea too looked in at the figure lying in the bed.
Zoey’s head was bandaged, covering all her hair. Chelsea wondered if they shaved it all for the surgery. She looked like she was wearing a turban. Her face was ashen and seemed to have aged a great deal from when she last saw the woman.
Zoey had looked no older than her, though, in fact, she was four years Colt’s senior. She now looked closer to forty. Colt pushed the door and went in. She followed tentatively behind him with her heart beating unevenly.
She hated seeing anyone hurt, and this reminded her of her own ordeal. The gut feeling that the two were connected was now stronger than ever. A movement behind them made her turn to see a police officer standing at the door.
Colt took the cue and went to speak with him while she pulled up a chair beside the bed. Zoey was hooked up to an IV tube via one of her hands; she placed a hand on the other. The woman’s skin was very cool.
“Zoey, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes catching sight of the medical monitor. “Don’t worry, whoever did this to you will face the consequences of their actions.”
The door opened, and she raised her eyes. Colt stood at the door while Dr. Madden walked in followed by a nurse. She stood, leaving the medics to do their thing and followed Colt back to the passage.
There was a police officer standing a few feet away. She felt relief at seeing the man in uniform. It meant that they were taking this seriously. If this was attempted murder, the attacker might come back to finish the job. At least that’s what she always saw in the movies and TV shows.
“What did the police say?’ she asked.
He turned. “They are investigating, but there were no witnesses.”
“How did they find her and where?” she asked.
“She was found on the street near the dumpster behind the building. They are looking for a weapon the perp may have thrown away. They doubt he took the weapon with him.”
“If he used a tool from a car, he could throw it back in his trunk,” she said, thoughtfully.
Colt narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“I watch a lot of detective shows,” she chortled, trying to lighten the mood. “You should call Reid and let him know where we are.”
“What for?”
“He may be wondering where we are if he doesn’t see us when he wakes up. You know how he is.”
“Let’s head back to the hotel; we’ll come back in the morning.”
She walked over to the door and peeked in the room. Dr. Madden and the nurse were finishing up whatever they were doing. The doctor made some notes on a chart while the nurse was fixing the pillow at Zoey’s head.
She waited until Dr. Madden came out before responding to Colt. She wanted to know Zoey’s status.
“How is she?” she asked as soon as the doctor came out.
He paused. “She is stable, but we can’t be certain when she will regain consciousness. We thought it would be sooner. We will do a scan to make certain there is no swelling in the area and that the bleeding hasn’t resumed.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“You should go home and get some rest,” she said.
Chelsea was afraid to leave Zoey, but maybe the doctor and Colt were right. The policeman was still there so she was certain Zoey would be protected in case the assailant came to the hospital.
“Okay, let’s go,” she finally acquiesced.
She knew that her plan to take down Jason had to be set into motion. Her gut told her he was responsible for this, and the feeling was getting stronger the more she thought about it.
She recalled how scared Zoey seemed when she saw her earlier. If she’d known this would have happened, she would never have insisted on Zoey telling her the truth. She should never have let her leave. This was her fault.
How could she tell Colt she was responsible for what happened to Zoey. He would be angry that she kept information from him about what his stepsister told her. She was determined now more than before to make the stepbrother pay for all he’d done to make Colt’s lie hell, and now his own sister.
When they got back to the hotel, she feigned sleep once more and bade a goodnight to Colt at her door. He didn’t protest as she had anticipated. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her close, planting a solid kiss on her lips before letting her go. She wanted more, but she needed to do what she’d originally set out to do earlier that evening.
“See you in the morning,” he whispered hoarsely against her lips.
“Goodnight,” she whispered, returning a peck on his lips.
He made sure she was in, and the door closed before she heard him walk away. She moved quickly, grabbing her laptop from its bag and setting it on the tiny table in the corner, left of the bed.
First, she checked the alternate fan website where Colt’s real
fans were. This was not the official website for the ban but a website run by Colt’s real fan base. Over the past two months, she’d made friends with the administrator of that website.
The support was going strong for the rock star, and this made her smile. Next, she logged into the Purple Crush official site and made a statement about the article. The support on this website was fifty-fifty. These so-called fans were not very loyal at all; they flip-flopped easily as soon as they read a nasty article. Many of them were already sending Colt to jail or hell.
After writing the post, she logged out because she knew she would be getting a lot of backlash about it. What she did next was to transcribe the recording she took of her and Zoey’s conversation, along with saving an audio file of the same.
She spent the next two hours writing a comprehensive report then emailed a zip file to the administrator of the alternate fan website. By the time she was done, it was close to 2 o’clock. She barely crawled into bed and promptly fell asleep.
Chapter 48
Loud rapid knocking awoke Chelsea from sleep. She turned over in the bed before sitting up and taking a deep sleepy breath. It was expected, but not at 5:13 a.m. She’d barely got three hours sleep.
“Coming,” she shouted after a minute of incessant knocking.
She swung her feet from the bed, pushed them into her bed slippers and dragged herself to the door. She was still in her dress since she had been to tired to change. She paused, wondering if it made sense changing.
“Naw,” she said, continuing to the door. “Coming!” she repeated to the noise monger.
When she pulled the door open, Reid’s red face presented itself to her. His titanium eyes sent bullets in her direction that she almost ducked for cover. He was waving the tablet in front of her.
“Chelsea, what is this?”
Feign ignorance Chelsea; maybe he’ll go away. “What?”
“This!” Reid shoved the electronic device in her face.
She yawned, pretending to try and focus on it. “I don’t see anything,” she replied sleepily, leaning against the door post, closing her eyes.
Her ploy seemed to be working. Reid withdrew his hand and narrowed his eyes, looking at her with some concern.
“Did you even sleep at all?” he asked.
Diversion Chelsea. “Of course not. Didn’t Colt tell you we were at the hospital all night?”
Bingo! “What?” he asked, his surprise was expected. “What happened, are you hurt? Is Colt okay?”
“It’s Zoey; someone attacked her,” she told him, yawning once more.
“Christ! How’d that happen?”
“They bludgeoned her with something, caused her brain to bleed.”
Reid grabbed his chin, passing his hand over his new stubble. “What the fuck is going on? First, you, and now this.”
That got Chelsea’s attention. Reid was obviously on the same wavelength. “You see the connection too?”
“What connection?” He looked at her sharply. “I’m only thinking of all the bad luck that’s happened.”
“Oh.”
His voice lowered, but it was firm. “Chelsea, what are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“It can’t be nothing. Do you know what you have done by pointing fingers at Jason and Carl with these articles? You named names, Chelsea.”
“I’m not pointing fingers; I am doing what my gut tells me. Soon the truth will come out.”
Reid wasn’t happy. “What if he wasn’t the one to kidnap you?”
“I’m sure of it,” she retorted, but before he could respond, his phone began to ring.
He grudgingly withdrew it from his jeans pocket and grunted into it, stepping a few feet away. That’s when she noticed he was wearing casual clothes. She’d never seen Reid in anything but jackets and suits. He looked weird. He must have just pulled these on in a hurry, given that he was unshaven and didn’t appear to have showered.
He was coming back toward her with a dangerous look in his eyes. When he was a foot away, he stopped and shot her a hot stare. For perhaps a minute or two, he said nothing, then let out a long breath.
“It’s a hornet’s nest; you’ve stirred a hornet’s nest!”
“What happened?” she asked, straightening her shoulders.
“That was Henry. He said that Jason was under investigation for attempted murder, now he has gone missing. You’ve messed up the case with your little article.”
“Actually,” she said in a quiet tone, biting on her bottom lip.
“What now. What else have you done?”
“There’s another article that’s coming out in the paper today,” she replied, stepping back into her room and quickly closing the door.
“Chelsea, open the door.”
“You have to promise not to yell at me,” she pleaded.
There was a bit of silence, then he replied, “I won’t. I promise.”
“And promise to let me tell Colt,” she added.
“Do you think I’m an idiot to tell him this? It’s your mess; you’ve got to tell him yourself. Now open the damn door and tell me what’s in the article.”
“You said ‘damn’,” she sulked.
“I didn’t yell. Okay, I won’t swear either,” he said in a calmer voice.
She waited a few seconds then opened the door a crack. Reid was faking a smile. She wasn’t sure she could trust him. She waited a minute while he peered through the crack of the door and nodded, indicating that he was calm. She opened the door wider. He pushed his way past her and entered her room uninvited.
“What are you doing?”
“Staying right here until you tell Colt what you’ve done.”
“Now?” she asked, her eyes wide.
He smirked. “No better time. I’ll wait right here until you get back.”
“I haven’t even showered yet,” she protested.
Reid didn’t seem to care; he pulled up the chair at the tiny table in the corner and sat. “Not my problem. You can either shower with me here or don’t. I won’t look.”
“Argh!” she snarled at him, but he just leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.
“You’d better hurry; I may just order room service right here, then finish my sleep in your bed.”
This is blackmail! Now that Reid had got her in a corner, there was nothing she could do but do what he said, or he would never leave her room.
Within fifteen minutes, she was showered and changed, ready to face Colt. She’d locked the bathroom door, although she knew Reid would never attempt to do anything; still, he was a man. She came out dressed in a knee length skirt, tank top and her hair pulled back at her nape.
“I’m off,” she announced.
His lips barely moved when he spoke. “Hurry, I need food and more sleep.”
She sneered at him and left the room. So far Colt didn’t know, and Reid was making certain she told him. What would she say? That she wrote a detailed article about his stepbrother and the role he played in the mess created by an abusive stepfather? Would she tell him that she wrote about the blackmails, the insurance fraud, her kidnapping and even about Zoey’s attack, laying all of that at Jason’s feet?
Then there was Carl Benson’s sister and her role in all this. How about the lies about her death and the secret plot to destroy Colt? How about telling Colt how she questioned Carl Benson’s reputation by implying that he was Jason’s accomplice? She wasn’t sure Colt would be angry about that. What he would be angry about was she taking matters into her own hands and perhaps messing up the one chance for the police to get Jason.
She let herself into the suite and walked to Colt’s room. Hesitantly, she pushed the door. He was sprawled across the bed in his birthday suit, lying face down.
Closing the door softly behind her, she tiptoed into the room. His light snore indicated he was still asleep. With a quiver in her stomach, she moved toward the bed. She had no intention of awakening him; she just wanted to lay beside h
im for a while.
She kicked off her sandals and lay back beside him, taking care not to touch him lest he awoke. But as soon as she lay back, a hand grabbed her and pulled her close. She gasped, surprised that Colt was not asleep.
“You’re awake!”
“I can feel your presence, my lady,” he murmured, pulling her against his nakedness, his hard cock pressing into her hip.
His hand was already pulling up her skirt while he nibbled her neck. She wanted to protest, but she was already trembling from the intense voltaic charge quickening her body. She should tell him what she’d done, shouldn’t she? She wanted to stop him but her body was craving what she should have had a few hours before.
He’d worked up her skirt to her waist, and his hand wedged between her thighs, finding her moist flesh. His lips had made their way around to her chin, where he sucked on her skin. Then before she could catch her breath, he covered her body with his.
For a moment, he searched her face, then their eyes locked, and she could no longer breathe. All thoughts of why she was in his room flew from her mind. All Chelsea could think about was his lips caressing hers, his lips on her breasts, and his hard shaft inside her. She wiggled, parting her thighs, feeling the tip of his cock at her opening.
Their lips met as he moved his hips and brought his shaft closer to her vagina, rubbing tantalizingly against her clitoris. The need deepened as he found her tongue and sucked on it, caressing it.
A hand came up and pulled down her tank strap, then her bra, exposing her round fleshy mound, her pointy nipples taut and beckoning. His thumb brushed the tip before he broke the kiss and took the nipple between his lips.
“Ohm,” a ripple of excitement galloped through her body.
She moved her hips, begging him to enter, but he was taking his sweet time, perhaps punishing her for not completing what they had started last evening.
She wiggled her hips again, and this time he growled against her breast. Losing her patience, she reached down between them and guided his cock into her warm moist vagina. Colt pushed forward, then withdrew and slid in once more.
Her walls closed around him, sucking him in as she arched into his thrust. He began to slide in and out of her in smooth rhythmic strokes, in which she moved her hips in tune with his. The cadence of their dance ignited the inferno of their desire.
Damaged Love Page 85