by Regan Black
Funny thing about life. Each time he’d been actually convinced he’d hit rock bottom, something happened to turn his life around.
Like the job that had brought him to this little town in the middle-of-nowhere Wyoming. Since he’d started his own private investigation firm, any kind of work had been few and far between. He’d begun to despair, wondering how he was going to pay his rent, when the Bartlett family had showed up on his doorstep wanting to hire him.
Wanting, hell. They’d begged him to take their case.
After listening to their story, Jack had agreed to help. Even if he’d been drowning in work—which he definitely wasn’t—their case had intrigued him. Of course, anything involving a missing child and a huge cult called the Children of Eternity would. Their compound was located about ten miles from the town of Landon, Wyoming, which was why he’d traveled here.
The first thing he’d done was locate the local NA chapter.
Now that he was seated, Jack allowed himself to check out the others in the room. The group was small, which was to be expected due to the size of the town. But wherever he was, addiction didn’t discriminate. Young and old, several races and all types of people were represented here. He counted maybe twenty-five souls in various stages of recovery.
Good. Maybe here, someone would let down their guard enough to talk to him about COE. So far, despite numerous inquiries around town, he’d learned exactly zero about the cult. Wait, scratch that. He’d learned the good townspeople of Landon distrusted and disliked the cult members. Despite that, they weren’t willing to discuss their reasons why. Of course, it didn’t help that they were suspicious of any outsiders.
A tall, heavyset woman went to the podium at the front of the room. It appeared the meeting was about to start.
She cleared her throat and waited for the cluster of stragglers hanging out at the coffeepot to disperse and take their seats. While they shuffled into chairs, the back door opened and another man hurried in. Head down, he had the furtive sort of movements Jack so well remembered from the first days’ attempt at getting clean. He knew desperation and despair would be in the man’s face, if he would lift his gaze from the floor.
Since all of the chairs in Jack’s row were unoccupied, the new arrival sat in the one next to Jack.
“Hey,” Jack said quietly. “Welcome.”
Though the man nodded in response, he didn’t look up.
As usual, Jack barely heard the speaker’s first words. Though there was no set speech, the message would be one of welcome, encouraging people to share and offer each other support. Accountability played a big role in the journey toward recovery and that was the reason they advised attending meetings as often as possible.
Though Jack had been clean six months, he still feared a relapse. Especially when his leg and back injuries started hurting and he found himself craving relief with the pain meds that had gotten him hooked in the first place. Prescribed by his doctor, he’d initially begun taking them to help with the loss of his leg and then later while he’d healed. But he’d quickly built a tolerance and had to take more and more to get any sort of relief. Soon, he’d found himself taking them like candy. In NA, he’d learned his story was an all too familiar one.
The man next to him shifted in his chair. When he eventually raised his head, he focused all his attention on the speaker. The tense line of his shoulders and the way he kept jiggling his left leg spoke of his nervousness.
When the call went out for people to come up and share their stories, Jack thought the newcomer might bolt.
“Don’t worry,” he said, touching the man’s arm and keeping his voice low. “No one will make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Thanks,” the guy muttered. After a moment, he stuck out his hand. “I’m Thomas.”
“Jack.” It was common at these kinds of meetings to only use first names.
One at a time, a few different people went to the front and told their stories. Thomas listened intently. Jack did, too, but since he had no intention of sharing anything personal at the first meeting, he felt relaxed.
Finally, after the last person had gone up and talked—and there were many who, like Jack and Thomas, did not—the meeting was adjourned. Coffee and refreshments were in the back.
Thomas eyed the group once again congregating near the coffeepot and remained seated. Since Jack figured he had a few minutes before he’d head back that way to try got get information from one or two of the others, he did, also.
“Are you from around here?” Thomas asked, putting his arm along the back of the metal chair.
“Nope.” Eyeing the other man, Jack gave a casual shrug. “Just passing through. I always try to make an NA meeting if I can. It really helps.”
“Any family in the area?”
Jack shook his head. “I lost all my family and close friends while I was battling my addiction. I’ve tried to reach out and make amends, but none of them want anything to do with me.”
“That’s a shame.” Thomas sounded sincere. “Have you heard anything about the Children of Eternity?”
Just like that, every nerve ending went on full alert. “I have heard they’re nearby,” Jack said carefully. “I find the concept fascinating, to be honest. But when I asked around town, no one would tell me anything about them.”
Thomas regarded him curiously. “What do you want to know?”
“Quite honestly? I’m thinking their way of life might be exactly what I need.” Jack swallowed hard, glad he’d rehearsed this speech on the off chance someone connected would talk to him. “Simple and clean. Letting someone else call all the shots.”
Bracing himself for the other man’s reaction, Jack was surprised when Thomas flashed an approving smile. “Really?” Thomas shrugged. “That’s refreshing and unusual. As it happens, I know quite a bit about COE. But if you want to discuss them, we’ll need to go outside. I won’t talk about them here.”
Which sounded both perfectly reasonable and a little bit suspicious. Still, Thomas was offering more than Jack had been able to glean from multiple queries around town.
“Sure.” Jack pushed to his feet. “Lead the way.”
He followed Thomas outside. The sun had set, but full darkness had not yet fallen. “I’m parked over there.” Thomas pointed to a mostly empty lot behind a deserted building. “We can sit in my car and talk.”
Instinct urged Jack to decline. Instead he heard himself agree.
As they approached Thomas’s car—an older, nondescript black vehicle that seemed almost government-issue—Jack had second thoughts. “Hey, wait.” He grabbed the other man’s arm. “How about we just talk here, outside? It’s a nice night and I really enjoy the fresh air.”
Thomas gave him a look full of disgust. “I’m not going to come on to you or assault you, if that’s what you think. Never mind. I’ll just leave. I really thought you were interested in learning about COE.” He shook his head and strode for his car, using the key fob to unlock the doors.
Damn. “Wait.” Jack hurried to catch up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give that impression. But you know, strange things have happened. One can’t be too careful.”
“I agree.” Opening the driver’s-side door, Thomas got in. “Are you coming or not?”
Taking a deep breath and hoping he wasn’t making a colossal mistake, Jack got in on the passenger side. Turning to face Thomas, he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say a single word, someone clubbed him hard in the back of the head.
* * *
For the rest of the day Ana left Sophia alone. Each worked independent of the other, taking turns assisting as their doctor saw patients. All were for routine things—a pregnancy check, a sore throat and someone who’d pulled a muscle while working in the fields. Every time Sophia thought about her impending marriage, tea
rs threatened, so she decided it would be easier to push it to the back of her mind.
But that didn’t mean she could make it go away.
Ezekiel. The Anointed One. Since she’d never even spoken to him, Sophia wondered if she’d be considered out of line if she asked for a face-to-face meeting, just to see if they’d be even remotely compatible. Unfortunately, she already knew the answer to that. Ezekiel got what Ezekiel wanted. Her feelings would have no effect on the outcome.
“Sophia! Ana!” Dr. Drew hurried into the workroom, calling their names as he came. “We have an injured man coming in.”
The two women exchanged a glance. “From where?” Sophia asked, hoping it wasn’t the husband of one of her friends. “Was he hurt farming or in the repair shop?”
“Neither,” the doctor answered. “All I know is that Thomas is bringing this man in himself. Our patient has a head injury and is currently unconscious. Get a bed prepared in the infirmary. I’ll let you know once he arrives.”
Immediately, Sophia hurried off to do as her boss ordered. For once, Ana was right on her heels.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that Thomas himself is bringing him in?” Ana asked, wide-eyed. She had a valid point. After all, Thomas was Ezekiel’s right-hand man and, as such, the second most powerful person in COE. If he himself was delivering the injured patient, the man must be someone very important indeed.
Barely twenty minutes passed before Dr. Drew hurried back, leading the way for two workers carrying a clearly unconscious man on a stretcher. Thomas followed along behind, his expression revealing absolutely nothing. If the patient was someone close to him or Ezekiel, they had no way of knowing.
Dr. Drew began barking out orders. As the more experienced nurse, Sophia fulfilled them, relegating Ana to handing over necessary instruments. Meanwhile, Thomas remained in the corner of the room, watching them all.
A large bloody gash at the back of the patient’s head told them why he was in such condition. While Ana hooked him up to an IV, as well as the blood pressure cuff and the finger heartbeat monitor, Sophia cleaned the wound. “This will need stitches,” she said, getting everything ready.
Dr. Drew took care of the stitching quickly, his movements competent and efficient. Once he’d finished, Sophia dressed and bandaged it. Despite being unconscious, with his dark shaggy hair and rugged features, the patient looked handsome. Sexy even. To her surprise, she felt an immediate visceral tug of attraction. This was so incredibly rare, she nearly gasped out loud. Wrong place, wrong time and definitely the wrong person. She wondered what was wrong with her. It had to be shock due to her impending wedding.
“His vitals are good,” she announced.
Dr. Drew nodded. “He’s taken a nasty blow on the head. We’ll keep him under observation until he wakes. Once he does, Thomas wants to be notified immediately.”
Again Sophia eyed Ezekiel’s top assistant. Did Thomas know she was to become his boss’s newest bride? “Of course,” she murmured.
“Sophia, I don’t want you to leave his side,” the doctor ordered. “Ana, you can assist me in seeing the remainder of the patients. Sophia, beep me the instant this man opens his eyes.” He pointed to the buzzer on the wall. It corresponded to the walkie-talkie he wore on his belt. “Understood?”
Both women nodded.
“Good. Ana, come with me,” he barked, turning to hurry away. As Sophia watched them go, she realized Thomas and his two assistants had already disappeared.
Aware she might be stuck here awhile, even after her shift had technically ended, she pulled up the visitor’s chair and planted herself in it. While she wasn’t allowed any reading material at work, she did keep a pad of paper and a good pen. Sometimes she drew, sometimes she wrote poetry or amusing short stories. When she’d finished, she always destroyed whatever she’d created, fearful that someone would see.
The stranger in the bed stirred. Not a full move, just a jerky shifting of his position and a hitch in his breath. She put her untouched paper and pen aside to study him. His thick, dark hair was nearly black. Wondering if it would feel as silky as it looked, she glanced around once before she reached out and drew a few strands of it through her fingers. Yep. Exactly as she’d thought.
Her touch apparently made the man restless. He began tossing his head from side to side, muttering under his breath. When he gave a loud groan, she stood, eyeing the machines that monitored his heartbeat and blood pressure. While they’d climbed a little, the numbers remained well within the realm of normal.
When, after a moment, he didn’t move again, she sat back down. She felt confident he’d wake soon and, when he did, no doubt he’d have a lot of questions. She suspected this was why Dr. Drew had requested immediate notification. He wanted to be the one to give the answers.
But she wouldn’t press that buzzer until the patient had regained full consciousness. She’d learned the hard way that one of the worst things she could do was waste the doctor’s precious time.
Sighing, she debated reaching for her pad of paper again. Her fingers itched to sketch the chiseled planes of this man’s face. But such a drawing would take time and she didn’t want to be caught with it, so she remained empty-handed, simply watching. And waiting.
When he opened his eyes and focused on her, she caught her breath. They were blue, a peculiar light shade that almost appeared gray.
“Where am I?” he rasped, wincing as he tried to lift his head.
Now she knew she had to call the doctor. “Just a minute,” she told him, trying to sound soothing. “I need to—” Her words cut off as he shot out his hand and gripped her wrist. Hard.
“Don’t lie. Tell me where in the hell I am.”
Shocked, she tried to pull free. His grip was surprisingly strong for one so recently injured. Finally she succeeded in yanking out of his grasp and rushed to press the buzzer. Once she’d accomplished this, she spun around, chest heaving. “The doctor will be right in.” Of course, she was short of breath.
He didn’t respond. With his eyes narrowed and his jaw hardened, he looked dangerous. A jagged thrill shot through her, again making her question her sanity.
Then Dr. Drew arrived, Ana close on his heel.
“Here’s our patient,” the doc exclaimed. His tone and expression both were far too jovial—completely unlike him. Sophia and Ana exchanged a quick glance. More proof that this patient, whoever he might be, had some stature.
“You have quite the nasty wound on the back of your head, but we’ve got you fixed up. You’ll soon be as good as new.”
“Thomas has been notified,” Ana put in. “He is on his way here.”
At her words, the patient swung his head toward her. “Thomas?” The name came out a snarl. “That’s exactly who I want to see. He’s sure as hell got some explaining to do.” Crossing his muscular arms, he glared at Ana, then Sophia and lastly Dr. Drew.
No one said anything. Even Dr. Drew didn’t dare cross someone who mattered to Thomas and, by extension, Ezekiel.
The silence felt incredibly awkward. To everyone except, apparently, the patient.
“Well?” he demanded. “What’s the holdup? Where’s Thomas? One minute I’m getting into his car and the next—”
“You’re here. Very good.” Thomas strode into the room, cutting him off. “I’ll need a few moments alone with Jack,” he said. “Everyone clear out.”
Of course they did exactly that, without hesitation or question. Prompt adherence to rules was one of the reasons COE ran so smoothly. No petty differences or spite or hate. Everyone knew their place and what they had to do and they did it. Sophia had always found that very comforting.
Until now, she realized. Now that she was facing a forced marriage to a powerful but elderly man, she felt a seed of resentment sprouting.
As she exited the room, she noted
that Thomas’s two bodyguards had remained. For protection? Or assistance?
One thing was for sure, she’d never know. She wasn’t at a high enough level. Yet. She couldn’t help but wonder if that would change once she was married. No doubt it probably would. Even the lowest of Ezekiel’s numerous wives had a more elevated status than everyone else. One of the few benefits, as far as Sophia could tell.
Copyright © 2017 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781488016769
Killer Colton Christmas
Copyright © 2017 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Regan Black and Lara Lacombe for their contributions to The Coltons of Shadow Creek miniseries.
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