Her Billionaire Bosses: A Menage Romance

by Samantha Twinn

  “Leo,” I call, thinking he’s found something.

  “Nothing yet,” he calls back from a different part of the house.

  The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I run to the rear of the house. “Rose. If you can hear me, scream. I’m coming for you.”

  The only room in the back is the kitchen. I look around, listening intently for any sounds. The room is eerily silent. I’m positive the sound I heard was coming from here. I pull open the door to my right door and find an empty pantry. Another door on the left holds a narrow set of stairs leading up. The last door in the kitchen leads down.

  There’s a light at the bottom of the stairs. I bound down the stairs and freeze at the sight before me. There’s blood everywhere. An overweight middle aged man is lying lifeless on the floor. Long, dark hair peeks out from beneath his body, and my heart stops. It’s Rose.

  “Leo!” I yell up the stairs and go to her.

  She can’t be dead. I refuse to let things end this way. I grab the guy’s shirt with both hands and haul him off of her. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive and I really don’t give a fuck right now. I need to get to Rose.

  She’s covered in blood and not moving. Her skin is a deathly white.

  “Leo get the fuck down here! Now!”

  I fall to my knees and cradle her face in my hands. She’s so pale, and the blood it’s everywhere; covering her body, splattered across her face and running down her neck. I search her mostly naked body, looking for wounds. I find a few superficial cuts, but nothing to explain all the blood. Looking over at the guy I pulled of her, I assume most of it is her attacker’s. Thank, God.

  “Rose, baby. Wake up.” I can’t tell if she’s breathing, and my panic swells. “I need you to be okay. I love you, damn it. Do you hear me? You were right. I was afraid to admit it. Now come back to me.” I check for a pulse. Her skin is cold and clammy, and my hand shakes as I try to find the right spot. There’s a steady thump-thump of her heart beating under my fingertips, and I nearly collapse with relief.

  Leo comes trampling down the stairs, and his reaction is pretty much the same as mine.

  “Is she…” He chokes on the works.

  I shake my head. “She’s still alive,” I look back to her naked body and flinch. That psychopath has had her for hours. “But she’s not waking up. I don’t know what he did to her. Call an ambulance.” I pull off my jacket and lay it over her still form. I want to pull her into my arms, but I’m afraid to move her. Please, let her be okay.

  “We’re in the cellar,” Leo says from behind me. “No, I don’t know what happened, damn it. She’s unresponsive, and there’s a lot of blood. Yes, she’s breathing. The other guy is dead. Just get someone here fast.”

  Leo ends the call and falls to his knees. Her arm is still tied, and I try to untie her, but the knot has been pulled tight, and I can’t get it loose.

  “Here. Let me.” Leo picks up a knife that’s on the ground and cuts the rope.

  Rose’s body crumples limply onto the ground with a groan. It’s the first sign of life she’s given us.

  “Come on, Bambi,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “Open those pretty eyes for me and let me know you’re okay.”

  “I told you,” she says with a cough, “don’t call me Bambi.”

  I suck in a breath. It’s the first deep breath I’ve been able to take for hours. “You’re going to be okay. We’ve got you.”

  Her eyes flutter, trying to focus up. “How—” Her voice cracks, and she coughs again. “How. Did. You. Find me?” Each word seems to be a struggle.

  Leo leans down and kisses her. “Don’t talk, sweetheart. An ambulance is on its way.”

  Her eyes drift closed again, and I can’t help but think about what she must have been through. I glance to Leo. His lips are pulled tight as he strokes her hair. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am.

  What seems like hours tick by until the ambulance arrives. The paramedics have to pry Leo and me away from Rose as they take her upstairs on a stretcher. It feels like just yesterday we did the same thing after the car accident. We stand out back and watch as they load her up and drive away. The police have a million questions, but they can go fuck themselves. I have to get to the hospital.

  “You say this guy made threats before,” the officer says, “Has he ever tried to hurt Ms. Morningstar before?”

  “No,” Leo answers. “He’s never even mentioned her in the letters.”

  “We’re going to want to see those letters,” the man says.

  I glance over to the car parked behind the house and notice the front end damage. My gut clenches when I realize that it was the car that hit us.

  “I shouldn’t have let her leave,” I say more to myself than to anyone else. “This is my fault.”

  Leo puts a hand on my shoulder and turns to the cop. “I understand you’re just doing your job, but we need to be at the hospital with Rose.” He hands the man a card. “My lawyer has all the details and if you have any more questions, run them through him.”

  Leo pulls the car around, and we head to the hospital. The image of Rose naked and covered in blood is forever burned in my memory. I can’t stop thinking about what she must have gone through.

  “Do you think he hurt her?” I ask aloud, my voice coming out hollow.

  “She’s alive,” Leo says. “That’s all that matters. We can deal with anything else later. But you need to pull your shit together before we get to the hospital. We need to be strong for her.”

  Leo is right. I wasn’t there for her before, but I’m determined to be there now. No matter what happens next.

  22

  Leo

  “I’m sorry. I can’t let you back there unless the patient has given us written permission,” the young girl at the reception desk says to us for the third time. “It’s the law.”

  I take a deep breath, trying not to lose my shit. I realize this girl is just doing her job, but I really don’t give a fuck about the law. Rose needs us.

  “Listen—” I look down at her badge and smile. “—Amy, I realize it’s the law, but she was unconscious when they brought her in. We need to be with her when she wakes.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. But I can’t let you go back,” the woman repeats.

  “We were there when they picked her up in the ambulance,” Asher says and waves his cast. “See this blood. I was holding her while we waited. She’ll want to see us.”

  “I understand, sir,” she says. “But my hands are tied.”

  “Is there a problem here?” A rather large man dressed in a security uniform approaches the desk and crosses his arms.

  “No, problem,” I say.

  Amy smiles up at the guy. “Don’t worry, Steve. I’ve got this under control.”

  The guy looks over at Asher and narrows his eyes. “I’ll be right over there if you need me.”

  “Fuck this. I’m calling Roger,” Asher says from behind me. “He’ll rattle some chains, reach out to the administrator, or something. They can’t keep us from seeing her.”

  “Amy,” I say patiently as Asher walks away from the desk. “I know you’re just doing your job and I don’t want to get you in trouble. If you could just tell us what room she’s in. You wouldn’t be letting us in, and no one needs to know how we found out.”

  “Sir. I can’t.” She looks around, checking to see if Security Steve is listening. “I really am sorry. I can get a note back to her if you want.”

  No, I don’t want. The only thing I want is to see that Rose is awake and safe. I want to touch her. Hear her sweet voice. But I can tell, Amy isn’t going to budge. “Fine. Do you have some paper?”

  Asher is pacing the hall, yelling into the phone. “They can’t keep us out. There must be something you can do.”

  I find a quiet spot in the waiting room and watch him, watching for signs of a meltdown. It won’t do Rose any good for us to be kicked out of the hospital. This is the second time in almost as many week
s that I’ve found myself on the other side of a hospital security door waiting to hear the fate of someone that I care about.

  The institutional blue and green room is suffocating. Other people surround us. Worried families and friends are huddled in small groups, whispering words of support. A tired toddler fusses in his mother’s arms as she tries to entertain her other two kids. I’m tired of it. Asher is right. There has to be something Roger can do legally to ensure that this doesn’t happen again. A power of attorney or something.

  After getting off the phone, Asher stalks back over. A dark cloud of anger and frustration swirls around him, and the rest of the waiting room gives us a wide berth.

  “Roger is going to see what he can do, but it doesn’t look good.”

  “The girl at registration said she’d pass along a note,” I tell him. “Once she’s awake, she can sign the papers to let us back there.”

  “What if she doesn’t want to see us?” Asher asks, echoing my own concerns. After all, she was taken because of us. Asher rakes a hand through his hair and squeezes his eyes shut. “What if she doesn’t wake up?”

  “Yeah, and what if aliens land and we’re all enslaved,” I snap back. “This isn’t like you. We deal with the facts at hand and make plans. It’s how we always solve problems.”

  Asher opens his eyes and stares back at me. With a nod of his head, he straightens, and I know he’s pulled his head back in the game.

  “So a note, huh?”

  “Yeah. I’m trying to figure out what to say.”

  “Keep it simple. Let her know we’re here and want to see her. Tell her she has to sign off on us coming back and we’ll be waiting.”

  I nod. Asher is right. There are a million things that need to be said, but that’s a conversation we need to have in person. One that can wait until we know Rose is safe and whole. I scribble a few lines on the hospital notepad, keeping it just to the basics, and then return to the reception area.

  “Thank you, Amy,” I say. “I do appreciate your help. Let us know as soon as she asks for us.”

  “No problem,” Amy says and looks back over her shoulder. She bites her lips and leans forward, beckoning me closer. “I checked, and she’s with the doctor now. So she’s awake. Once the doctor leaves, I’ll make sure she gets the note.”

  “Thank you, again,” I say and return to my seat.

  Now, it’s just a matter of waiting.

  23

  Rose

  I hate hospitals. The antiseptic smell that hovers over the scent of sickness. The eerie silence interrupted by the electric sound of machines and hushed footsteps in the hall. Even the fucking fluorescent lighting that shines down without mercy, exposing a multitude of sins. There’s nothing at all appealing about the place. I’ve been poked and prodded at by at least a dozen people. After I talk to the cops and they take photos of my various injuries, it’s almost four hours before they finally allow me to shower.

  I turn the water to as hot as my skin can stand and scrub until it hurts. I don’t think I’ll ever feel clean again. A nurse left a pair of blue scrubs for me to change into. They are a size too big, but they were clean and free of blood. So, small victories and all.

  There’s also a note from Leo. I’m not quite ready to see them. I can’t deal with the uncertainty right now. They’ll have questions and I just... I just can’t.

  I’m exhausted and emotionally raw. I feel like I’m hungover. My throat hurts—and will likely hurt for days to come—and I my mind is fuzzy, as though my head has been hollowed out and stuffed with cotton.

  The only thing I want to do is go home and sleep for a month.

  But the only place I have to go is a half-furnished apartment I’ve never stayed in. It’s not my home. I might as well go to a hotel—at least there I’d have towels and linens.

  And what am I going to do with Leo and Asher? They came for me. I didn’t imagine that. Despite the fact I left, they still found me when I needed them. But I don’t know what that means for us. There’s so much still unresolved. I’m not sure we can get past everything that was said. Hell, I essentially broke up with them both via a Dear John letter.

  I don’t have a home. I don’t have a job. I don’t even know where the bags with all my clothing ended up. This generic pair of scrubs could be the only thing I own.

  Tears threatened again, and I blink them back as another person knocks on the door to come in.

  A small, soft woman with curly gray hair wearing light pink scrubs and a long white jacket walks into the room carrying a clipboard. “Hello, Ms. Morningstar. I’m Doctor Jensen from Obstetrics. They asked me to do a consult.”

  I stare, blinking at the woman, confused. Then realize that based on the state they found me in, the police must think I was raped. That’s something I can gratefully say didn’t happen.

  “I’m fine,” I assure the doctor. I can’t handle another test or procedure, especially one that’s completely unnecessary. “He didn’t rape me.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” She lays her hand over mine and squeezes. “But you still went through a lot of trauma. We should check to make sure there isn’t any damage to your uterus and that everything is alright with the baby.”

  I snatch back my hand and glare, wide-eyed, at the doctor, sure I heard her wrong. “You’re going to check what?”

  “Just a quick ultrasound. I should be done in a few minutes.” The doctor wheels over a large machine and pulls on a pair of gloves. “How far along are you?”

  “I’m not pregnant,” I say while trying to do the math in my head. I’m two weeks—no three—late. I think. It’s not the first time I’ve missed a period, or it’s shown up weeks late. My cycles are erratic, especially since I started birth control. I can’t be pregnant.

  The other woman frowns and checks the chart. “Your test came back positive. You are definitely pregnant.” Her featured softened and set down the clipboard. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

  “But I’m on birth control.”

  “Hormonal birth control isn’t a hundred percent, especially when used as the only form of birth control. Missing a dose, stress hormones, illness, medication. A number of things can impact its efficacy. Why don’t we have a look? Just lay back.” She pushes up my top and squeezes a dollop of warm gel on my middle. “Since you didn’t realize you were pregnant, I’m guessing it’s early. Don’t be alarmed if I can’t get a heartbeat. Generally, we can’t detect a heartbeat until after six weeks.”

  She moves the probe over my abdomen pressing down until the screen lights up. A soft whoosh-whoosh fills the room, and she points to the black and white screen. “That’s your uterus. Everything looks good. No bleeding or tears, which is good.”

  She moves the probe again, pressing down harder, and the sound changes from a whoosh to a fast thump, like a galloping horse. I hold my breath, listening. “And that there—” She points to a small gray blob on the screen. “—that’s your baby. The heartbeat is strong.” She clicks a few buttons on the machine and a photo prints. “I’d say by the size, you’re about eight weeks.”

  I take the photo and stare at it while she cleans up the gel. A baby. I can’t even process the idea. Maybe I felt like something was off, but pregnant? Eight weeks? I’ve been pregnant for eight weeks, and I didn’t know.

  “I wrote you a prescription for prenatal vitamins. If you have any bleeding or abdominal pain, come back to the ER right away. And I recommend following up with your own doctor in a couple weeks. It’s really important to get proper prenatal care. If that’s not something you can afford, there are a few clinics that offer free care. I’ll include that information in your discharge papers.”

  I nod, not really hearing her over the thudding heartbeat in my ears. I try to think back. Eight weeks ago I was having sex almost every night with both Asher and Leo. Almost since the very beginning. We’d stopped using condoms shortly after our first time together after getting checked out. I was on the pill. This
wasn’t supposed to happen.

  God! I don’t even know who the father is. I’m just like my mother. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to distance myself from her reckless behavior. I ended up in exactly the same place she had. Pregnant, without a clue who’s the father of my baby. What am I going to do now?

  I’m not sure how long I sat there staring at the ultrasound photo, but a knock on the door startled me back to the present. “I have two gentlemen out in the waiting room that have been asking to see you since you were brought in. Do you feel up to visitors?”

  Based on the state they found me in, I know Leo and Asher must be frantic. I can’t keep them waiting any longer. I shove the ultrasound photo under my pillow and tell her to let them in.

  Leo is the first through the door. He comes over to my bed and put his hands on my face. He moves from my face to my shoulder and down to my hips as if checking to make sure I’m whole. “You scared the shit out of me,” he says and leans over to kiss me softly. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  I laugh, causing my throat to ache. “I promise not to be abducted by a psychopath ever again.”

  Asher is lingering at the far end of the room. We said a lot of things to each other last night. Was it only last night? So much has changed since then. But no matter what was said, he still came for me, and those actions speak louder than any words.

  “Come here,” I say, waving him over.

  Asher does the same appraisal, checking me from head to toe, pausing at each bruise and cut as if memorizing my injuries. He picks up my left hand where the rope cut into my skin leaving an angry red abrasion and purple bruising.

  “Are you… Are you okay?” Asher stumbles over the words, and it breaks my heart.

  “I’ll be fine,” I say to myself as much as them. I look to Leo and back to Asher, trying to reassure them. “A few cuts, a whole lot bruising, but I’ll recover.”