Legacy of Danger

by Jillian David

  Another ten minutes elapsed. The snow continued to fall in front of the truck's beams. Peaceful. Calm.

  Everything Vaughn was not.

  After another sigh, she rested a small hand on his forearm. "Thank you."

  "Any time." What would a real man do right now? Hell if he knew. "Uh, want to talk about what happened? Did Linc do something in there?" It took concentration not to tighten his muscles.

  "I guess. Um, those guys with the guns and being inside that dark house triggered a flashback."

  "From what?"

  She squeezed his arm. "From when I was a kid. Men with guns trapped me in a room while other people beat my brother."

  Holy fuck.

  Chapter 16

  Oh, no.

  Had she said those words out loud? To a guy she'd only met a few days ago, no less.

  Damn it, Mariah was too exhausted to care about anyone's opinion tonight.

  God, it felt so good in the toasty circle of his hard chest and thick arms. Like somehow those demons couldn't haunt her here, with Vaughn. He held her firmly, but it was different. Maybe because she knew he wouldn't stop her if she needed to get away. Maybe it was just... him.

  Every inch of her body pressed against him registered his tense muscles. The guy was like a hard, warm radiator.

  "What happened?" he asked. How long had it been since someone cared about her on a deeper level than as a professional? Besides Kevin, of course.

  Poor Vaughn. He'd spent his evening getting threatened by the Brands and then letting her use him as a landing pad for a meltdown. The least she could do was explain why she had freaked out.

  The act of taking a deep breath hurt. "When I was about eight, my parents got wrapped up in a fundamentalist religious group. The leaders brainwashed my parents into believing that all the kids belonged to the group collective."

  "Okay. That's bizarre."

  Flashes of sleeping in bedrooms with eight, sometimes twelve, children zipped in front of her mind's eye. Hot, stuffy rooms, packed full of members' kids. "Seemed normal to most folks there. But, yeah, my parents didn't have a lot to do with us."

  "So not very supportive?" The rolling rumble of his voice from his chest into hers gave her even more courage.

  "More like not very involved. My brother and I were raised along with the other kids. On the rare occasions when we saw our parents, they treated us exactly like the other children. Cold. Businesslike. As I got older, though, I saw what happened to other girls. It was obvious the next step would be to marry me off to one of the group members."

  His arms tightened around her. "How old?"

  "Me? Fourteen. The selected member was fifty or so."

  "That's sick."

  "No argument here. The story gets even better. The last several 'wives' had come back from their honeymoons beaten to a pulp or sexually abused. Because they weren't obedient or pleasing enough or some other bull."

  "Damn."

  She had that strange sensation of being in a cocoon again. Comfortable and secure but not confined. A headache came and went across her forehead. Probably due to stress. "At the same time my marriage was being arranged, my brother, Kevin, who's younger by two years, was getting systematically beaten. The older men did this to most of the adolescent boys to keep them in line. Then, as they approached their mid-teen years, many of the boys disappeared. The leaders always said that the boys 'ran away,' but I had my suspicions."

  "No way."

  "Yes. So, when our future plans looked like pain for him and lecherous love for me, Kevin and I snuck out one night, escaped."

  "And?" It sounded like the word was ripped from his throat.

  A pinch formed in her chest. For a second, she was back in those terra cotta hills—dusty, sweaty, and exhausted, running for her life. "We were caught."

  "Shit. What happened?"

  "We both got a beating, but Kevin's was way worse. For several days, I was trapped in a small plywood room while armed men kept me from escaping. During that time, they were systematically tearing Kevin down, mentally and physically. I didn't dare try to open the door because I didn't know what they'd do to me, or Kevin, if I broke any more rules." She sighed. "Actually, no. I had a good idea what they'd do to me because another girl had gotten caught escaping a second time. Those people hurt her in every way a human can hurt another human."

  "My God. I can't believe you went through that." He ran his fingers through her hair. Not sexual. But safe. Something she could get used to, damn it.

  "So I was trapped for days. The worst part? I didn't know if my brother would be alive when I left that room." The texture of Vaughn's thermal shirt under her fingertips grounded her to the present, but her memories took her right back to the compound and that damned room with the moldy floor. "After they let me out, I did my chores and obeyed like a good member. I even helped plan my upcoming wedding."

  The motion of his fingers paused. "What happened to Kevin?"

  "He survived, but he was severely injured. He should have gone to the hospital. They beat him and left him to crawl back to one of the houses and sleep on the floor like a dog. I felt so helpless. I should have been able to help my little brother."

  He squeezed her arm. "I know how you feel, wanting to protect him."

  "Yeah, I bet you do, being the oldest."

  "But go on, please. It's your story."

  "Kevin managed to get messages to me, begging to try again to escape. He—" She gulped. "He was going to end his own life if he couldn't get out."

  "No," he whispered.

  "So I couldn't fail. We planned. We waited. He endured more beatings. I had to meet with my future 'husband' and sit there while he touched me. Inspecting. Even with clothes on, it was disgusting."

  Vaughn's hands tightened on her upper arms as a growl came from his throat. The cocoon sensation intensified, along with her headache. Her shiver certainly had nothing to do with the cold.

  "A few nights before my so-called blessed union, I picked a lock on the window and escaped. Kevin and I crawled out again and got through the fenced perimeter. This time, we made it to Salt Lake City and found an aunt and uncle who took us in."

  "And then you became a doctor?"

  "Eventually. And Kevin made sure no one could ever beat him up again. He's into MMA. The guy is terrifying in the ring."

  "What weight class?"

  "Bantamweight. Why, are you a fan?"

  "Well, yes. Again, not my story. Please continue."

  "The rest is history. Here I am in Copper River, paying off my loans by working in an underserved area. Kevin's in Salt Lake City working at Starbucks to support his MMA habit." She smiled into his chest and inhaled his warm scent, as heady as mulled cider, and served with a hug. "And I help him out with the finances a little bit, too. He needs something in his life to be proud of."

  "He's proud of you."

  "Sure." She shook her head. "But I meant personally proud. Something he can call his own. Something he's created. I'm just the nagging older sister."

  "Never." He rubbed his thumb over her upper arm, sending a welcome tingle down to her fingertips. "Are you two close?"

  "Talk at least every week, usually much more." The remainder of her tight fear uncoiled and released, like a terrified animal finally brave enough to walk out of its hiding spot.

  "He sounds like a good guy."

  "He's great. For a little brother, that is."

  "I know how about that sentiment." His rolling chuckle rumbled into her chest. "You still want to keep him safe? Even now?"

  She rested her cheek against his torso. "Of course. Who wouldn't, after all of the junk we dealt with?"

  "Good point."

  Another few minutes went by until she leaned away. "So, I should probably do something about what happened back there."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The part where we were threatened with guys with guns."

  He snorted.

  She studied the shadows of his ha
rd face. "What?"

  "I'm not laughing at you. It's just... yes. You are correct, we should at least fill out a police report."

  "But?"

  "But it's not going to help. They'll just say they were defending their property against trespassers. And once they learned who we were, those guys did put down the rifles. Besides, Tommy Brand, who was the guy with the messed-up eyebrow standing in front of the truck with a gun? Yeah, he's the sheriff."

  "How is that possible?"

  "Bad luck, I guess." He whistled low. "That family is seriously nuts." He readjusted his grip but continued to hold her. "And I don't mean to get into your business, but please don't go back over there."

  "You don't need to tell me twice." She sniffed. "So I shouldn't press charges?"

  "If you want to, I'll go with you. Just don't expect any results."

  "Wow. Okay. But I feel like there needs to be some documentation, in case..."

  "In case something else happens?"

  A shudder rattled her spine. "Yeah."

  His arms cranked down around her, but stopped short of pain. "Excellent point. Then let's go fill out the report now. I'll help you."

  "Really? Um, thanks. And, again, sorry for ruining your evening. I'm sure you didn't plan to be gone this long. You must have better things to do."

  "This is exactly where I needed to be."

  "Thanks." In the illumination from the dash, she craned her neck to meet his eyes, praying to heaven she wouldn't find pity there.

  Instead, a burning intensity lit his face. Not desire, exactly, and of course not, what with her meltdown this evening. More like a guy who wanted to slay someone's demons.

  Well, he could have all of her demons. He was welcome to them.

  Although he loosened his grip, his firm, secure presence remained. If she needed his strength, she knew it would be right there, ready to go.

  She scooted off his lap and buckled up. The lack of his heat, his touch, left her cold, and not only in temperature.

  "Let's go file a report, shall we?" His teeth gleamed in the darkness.

  Chapter 17

  After an exhausting hour at the police station, giving her statement to the officer on duty, Mariah stood and stretched her back. Vaughn signed the paper in front of him as well and pushed to his feet. The grim set of his mouth confirmed her guess as to how successful their efforts would be.

  Only another three years for loan repayment and then she could leave this town. Hopefully, nothing else bad would happen before then.

  It was well after nine o'clock when they returned to his truck. She sighed. "So, I should get back to my car and head home. Work day tomorrow, and all."

  "Why don't I take you home? The hospital is on the other side of town. I can arrange to have your car brought to your house."

  "No way. I couldn't ask you to do that."

  "You're not asking. I'm offering."

  "Well." She paused, more to get the sudden flutters under control. When had someone truly tried to stop and help her? "I hate to impose. Only if it's no hardship for you."

  He shook his head. "Absolutely not. Keys on the floorboard?"

  "Under the mat. How did you know?"

  "No one around here locks vehicles. Most freezing mornings, you'll see trucks and cars lined up in front of the diners, keys in ignition, running. No one around here would steal anything. Besides, with your unique... car, it would be pretty obvious who stole it." A quirk flashed across his normally hard-set mouth.

  "You're not picking on my used Cooper are you? I got a great deal for it in my third year of medical school."

  "Let's just say it's well suited to you." He punched in a text message on his phone. "Yep. Won't be a problem to get it back to your place." He stowed the phone in a pocket and shrugged. "Small town. Everyone knows about where everyone else lives." Buckling up, he put the truck into drive.

  Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into her driveway. Then he hurried around to her door before she could open it. His warm hand supported her arm as she stepped down from the truck, the firm strength warming her through the coat fabric. With a flick of his wrist, he snagged her bag and then followed her through the garage door and into the kitchen.

  It didn't escape her notice that he scanned the kitchen slowly, dark eyes observing everything in sight. Then he pinned her with a quiet gaze.

  "Want to check the rest of the house?" she offered.

  "You mind?"

  "After tonight? No. Be my guest."

  As he moved quickly through the two bedrooms and bathroom, she opened and closed the kitchen drawers. She turned to the fridge and rested her forehead on the freezer door.

  "Are you okay?"

  She jumped. How could someone that big move so silently? Willing her pulse to slow down, she turned to him. "I should offer you food."

  "But you're exhausted."

  "Yeah, but no way will I sleep with everything that happened tonight." She scrubbed at her face, as if she could wipe away the bad memories.

  A minute of silence stretched to two.

  Denim rustled as he shifted from one foot to the other. "Do you feel comfortable with me?" he finally said.

  She frowned. "Um, sure, I guess."

  "A resounding vote of confidence. Hey," he lifted his hand, "I get it. Strange dude in the house. I understand."

  Her heart skidded as her past battered at her, superimposing images from Utah on the man standing in front of her.

  Stop it. This was Vaughn. Different man. Different situation.

  Not dangerous, at least not to Mariah. She knew it deep down inside.

  "You haven't done anything wrong," she said.

  He pointed a thumb at his broad chest and flashed a grin. "I'm a guy. We're always messing up. As my sister likes to say, give me time." Easing onto a kitchen stool across the island, he said, "Were you okay with me a while ago, close to you, in the truck?"

  Her face warmed. "Yes." Very okay, not that she'd admit that fact aloud.

  "Good. Then go get ready for bed. I'll stay here."

  A flicker of panic caught her off guard, and she rubbed her neck.

  "If you want me to." He lifted a hand. "No funny business, I swear. You can hold onto a hammer and bash me with it if you don't feel safe. You just seem... like someone who might rest better if another person is around."

  He wasn't incorrect. "But—"

  "And I feel partially responsible for the Brands' treatment of you. They hate my family. If I hadn't been with you, they might not have hassled you like that."

  She worried at her lower lip as her head swam. "Could have been worse."

  "You got that right." He rested his hands, palms up, on the countertop. "Seriously, though. Would you be okay with me hanging out tonight? It'll make me feel a lot better, knowing you're safe."

  "Really?"

  "You have no idea." Why did that statement seem deeper than the mere words?

  A final knot of tension unwound in her chest. One thing she knew for certain: her gut told her Vaughn Taggart was all right. Maybe his emotions were helter-skelter, but his character was solid. "Okay, then." The smile felt good after the past few hours of reliving her past hell.

  Given how reassuring he was, back in the truck, his presence now might chase away some of her personal demons. And he was correct. For some odd reason, just being around him created a sensation of safety. Besides, if Vaughn misbehaved, Mariah had only to call any one of his siblings and they would knock him into line.

  And bonus: she didn't have to worry about being ashamed to appear vulnerable or weak in front of him. She groaned to herself. They had passed that milestone a few hours ago.

  With a tired smile, he pushed to his feet. "Still want a hammer for self-defense?"

  She studied his earnest face. "No."

  Once she had brushed her teeth and changed into a tank top and pajama pants, she stood in the middle of her empty bedroom, arms crossed over her chest. Shadows played on the walls, turning painted walls
into plywood. Her lungs burned as she forced air in and out.

  She wiggled her toes. Plush carpet. Not a rotting subfloor. Everything would be all right.

  She checked the windows. No keyed locks. She could escape if need be.

  Sweat formed between her breasts.

  This was not a Damned. Plywood. Room.

  Vaughn knocked, making her jump again. "Is it safe to open the door?"

  She turned around as he eased open the door. "You're a guest here. I should get you some food. A snack."

  "Watching my figure. No worries." For a guy so big, he stepped lightly as he brought in a kitchen chair and set it next to the wall, the spot farthest from her bed. He sat down, facing the bedroom door.

  "You can't stay there all night."

  "I will if that's what you need. Get into bed." His growl filled the small room. "You need to rest. I need to make sure you are able to rest."

  "Why?"

  "It's a... quirk... of mine, looking after people."

  "I don't understand."

  "You don't have to. Go on." He motioned.

  She slipped in beneath the duvet and sheets. The space between her and Vaughn felt wrong, like the worst kind of disconnect. And it unsettled her that he sat on the other side of the room. "It's okay. You can have some of the bed."

  "No, that wouldn't be right."

  "We're modern-world people. Pretty sure your reputation will be intact in the morning."

  "That's funny."

  "Good." She patted the bed. "It's okay."

  He studied her as he stood and took a few steps to her. He rested one knee on the bed. "You sure?"

  "You're not what scares me." And it surprised her how that statement was true.

  He took off his boots with twin thumps and sat on the edge of the bed, making the mattress dip. Sitting on top of the blankets, back propped against the headboard, positioned as close to the edge of the bed as someone could be without falling off, he then rested a big, warm hand on her upper arm.

  Connection. Warmth. Safety.

  Mariah did the impossible and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 18

  Vaughn remained wide awake, fully clothed, and firmly on top of the blankets. This whole evening, from offering to accompany Mariah to the Brand ranch to helping her deal with the memories of her past to sitting mere inches away from her as she slept, had bad decision written all over it. He couldn't sleep if he wanted to. His stomach rumbled, and his power rumbled right along with it, needing to continuously seek out and destroy any danger to Mariah.