Damaged!: A Walker Brothers Novel: (The Walker Brothers Book 3)

by J. S. Scott

  My moral compass was all fucked up. The only thing keeping me from shooting up, popping some pills or swallowing a pint was my two older brothers. They’d been through enough, and they were finally happy. I didn’t want my stupid ass to mess up their well-deserved peace. Julian and Micah had put up with enough of my bullshit—everything from overdoses to near-lethal alcohol limits that put me in the hospital or rehab.

  I could take care of myself now, and I was trying to prove that point to them by staying sober and clean.

  Even if it killed me.

  And to be honest, I kind of felt like I was dying right now.

  But I sure as hell didn’t want a babysitter. The last thing I needed was somebody here in my house day and night.

  I didn’t particularly like company; I preferred to wallow in my misery alone.

  A cook and a housekeeper? Why did I need to give a shit if my place wasn’t a showplace? I wasn’t exactly entertaining. I didn’t have guests except my brothers, and occasionally Liam Sullivan.

  “Housekeeper, my ass,” I mumbled as I tossed an empty soda can toward the overflowing trash, not surprised when it bounced off the pile of rubbish and landed on the floor.

  I ignored it, just like I always did.

  Julian had mentioned some guy named Sam was coming over today, but I’d told him not to send him. I didn’t want a roommate, even if the man cleaned and cooked. Did my brothers honestly think I was that stupid? I had no doubt my brothers wanted someone to watch over me, make sure I didn’t fall off the wagon.

  I didn’t like people.

  I didn’t like loud noises.

  And if I got hungry, I could eat a sandwich or something I could toss in the microwave.

  The doorbell rang, and I hauled my ass off the couch reluctantly, hoping to hell my older brothers hadn’t really followed through on their threat to send me a housekeeper. If they had, I’d send him packing. Or maybe he’d take one look inside the house and run away screaming. Either way, I’d make sure he had no delusions about working for me.

  It wasn’t happening.

  I was accustomed to drowning in my despair alone, and that was the way I liked it.

  I tripped over some junk on the way to the door, and kicked it aside as I made my way to the front entrance. Some small part of me wished it was one of my brothers or Liam. Damn! I missed seeing Julian and Micah, but I was fucked up company right now.

  I pulled the door open…then stood absolutely still as I saw the woman on my doorstep. It was impossible not to notice the wheeled suitcase she was dragging behind her.

  My housekeeper?

  No fucking way!

  She was petite, but the curves of her delectable body were hard not to notice, especially for a guy who hadn’t had sex in years. I’m not quite sure why my cock had suddenly sprung to life and was pressing urgently against the denim of my jeans, but there was something about this female that brought the appendage to attention. It hadn’t happened in a long time, and it caused me to take a second look at her.

  The woman was nothing like the chicks I’d dated in my past. She looked like the quintessential “girl next door.” Her expressive face was almost devoid of makeup. The light-blonde hair on her head was obviously confined behind her, but messy escapee locks framed her delicate face. When our gazes finally met, my gut ached like I’d been sucker punched.

  Her eyes reminded me of the clear waters of the Caribbean on a perfect day, aquamarine and calm.

  Or were they green?

  Or were they blue?

  It was a no to both answers, but a little of both. If I had to pick, I’d sway more toward blue.

  I shook myself out of my stupid thoughts. Holy fuck! What the hell did I care what color this woman’s eyes were? Especially since she was leaving immediately.

  “Mr. Sinclair?” she inquired, her husky, confident voice making me harder. It was the kind of sexy voice I wanted to hear screaming my name while she was in the middle of a mind-blowing climax. If I didn’t suspect she was sent to clean my house and cook me food, she could be making a fortune as a phone-sex operator.

  “What do you want?” I asked belligerently. I was curious, but not enough to deal with somebody invading my space. I cursed my brothers for sending me a female. Not that I wanted a guy at my door. I actually didn’t want anybody here.

  “I’m Sam. Your new housekeeper.”

  “You’re not a guy.” It wasn’t a brilliant conclusion, but it was exactly what I was thinking.

  She held a hand over her eyes, shielding her face from the sun. “I never claimed to be male,” she said calmly as she brushed by me to enter.

  I had wanted to close the door in her face, but she’d been too stealthy. Not to mention the fact that when her body had briefly caressed mine, I’d been momentarily distracted. “You need to go. I told Julian not to send you here. And I sure as hell didn’t know that you were a woman.”

  She calmly reached behind me and closed the door. “You’re letting the flies in. Judging by the smell of your house, I think it’s already a breeding ground for bugs.”

  “I don’t care. Get. Out,” I told her, my teeth clenched together in irritation.

  “Nope. Sorry. I need this job,” she answered as she pulled her suitcase through the foyer and into the family room. “God, you really are a pig.”

  Intrigued, I followed her. Not once had she flinched at the nasty scars on my face. I had several, the two worst ones running from my temples and down both of my cheeks. “It doesn’t matter if the place is a mess. You won’t have to clean it up.”

  She turned and put her hands on her curvy hips, causing the thin yellow sundress she was wearing to bunch up and show a little more of her bare legs. “I’m staying. I told you I need this job. You can either show me to my room, or I’ll find it myself.”

  “Leave,” I said in a graveled, irritated tone.

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Make me. What are you going to do? Throw me out on the doorstep? Go ahead. I’ll just sit out there until you let me in. Of course, it’s hot and humid, so I could get dehydrated. But I’m sure you’d call an ambulance once I lost consciousness.”

  The woman was challenging me, and I knew it. “I won’t know. I wouldn’t worry about you.”

  She wouldn’t really sit on my doorstep, right? I looked her up and down, noticing the determined tilt of her chin and stubborn expression, deciding she just might.

  Turning her back on me, she left the family room and wandered around the bottom floor, dragging the suitcase behind her. I didn’t say a word as she explored, the disgusted look on her face saying everything she wanted to say out loud, but didn’t. Finally, she found the elevator to the top floor, stepped into it, then punched one of the buttons.

  “Dinner will be at eight o’clock. I need to clean up the kitchen before I cook.”

  “You need to leave…”

  Before I could tug her out of my elevator and throw her bossy ass outside, the door to the lift whooshed closed.

  “Goddammit!” I cursed her curvy blonde ass as I headed toward the stairs.

  Maybe Sam the woman had surprised me, but she wasn’t about to best me. It was my house, and I didn’t want her here.

  I hightailed it upstairs by taking the stairs, determined to get her out of my home before she even had a chance to see the bedrooms.

  I need to get her out of here. I don’t want her around.

  If she really thought she was staying, she was delusional.

  There wasn’t a damn thing she could say to make me change my mind.

  CHAPTER 3

  Samantha

  There was a time in my life when I’d loved Xander Sinclair’s music. It had been my solace, my one guilty pleasure. His style had been unique, not quite metal, but expressive rock with some thoughtful ballads thrown into the mix.


  His words had reached out and spoken to me when he sang. They’d touched my heart and gotten me through some of my darkest days.

  Meeting him now, even several years after he’d recorded his last song, I couldn’t believe the man and his music were so very different.

  Shaking my head and longing for the days when Xander had been my hero, I walked into a bedroom, knowing immediately that it was a guest room. Everything was in its place, and it was tidy. Obviously, the owner had spent no time in this space.

  Hefting my suitcase onto the bed, I tried to focus on what I needed to accomplish. Before I could get anywhere, I needed to clean up the mess Xander had made of the house. The place looked like a tornado had struck and nobody had ever done cleanup.

  If I lived in a house this messy, I’d probably be depressed, too. My mild OCD with having everything organized and tidy might not always be healthy, but there was no way I could live in a place like this. Maybe I had my quirks, but I was well aware of them, and tried to keep them under control.

  “I thought I told you to get your ass out of here?”

  It wasn’t like I wasn’t expecting him, but Xander’s husky voice still startled me. I knew very well that he was behind me, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t react. I just started to open the zipper on my suitcase so I could unpack.

  “I heard your request,” I admitted. “I’m just not heeding it. You need me. This is a beautiful home, and you’re completely destroying it. Your brother built this house for you. Don’t you want to take care of it?”

  He moved closer. “I don’t give a shit. It’s just a place to live,” he growled. There was a hesitation before he asked, “How did you know he built it?”

  “I got information from your brothers. I was warned. It’s not like I was sent here blindly. I already knew you were acting like an asshole. I knew what I was getting into. And judging by the state of this house, I deserved to know, and I’ll earn every penny they’re paying me.”

  He moved closer, and I could see him cross his arms over his broad chest from the corner of my eye.

  “So they told you I’m trying to recover? That I’m a drug addict and an alcoholic?”

  “Yes.” I wasn’t starting this relationship with any more lies.

  “Then why in the hell do you want to work here? Who wants to live with a miserable fuck like me?”

  “Me,” I answered simply.

  “Why?”

  “I need a job. You need my services. The situation is perfect for both of us right now.”

  “Jesus! Are you always this bossy?”

  I bit back a smile. “Most of the time. And I don’t consider it bossy. I like to think I’m assertive.”

  “You’re annoying as hell,” he said with a scowl.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d heard somebody tell me that, so the insult didn’t hit home. It rolled right off my back quite easily.

  I moved back and forth from the dresser and closet to my suitcase, putting away clothing. If Xander wanted me gone, he’d have to physically overpower me and throw me out. “You’re not exactly pleasant, either.”

  That was putting it mildly. Xander was a jerk, but no matter how much he vented or grumbled, I was fairly certain he wasn’t violent. He was a big man, and he could have very easily manhandled me out the door. But for some reason, he hadn’t. Well, at least not yet.

  “How much money do you need to leave?” he rumbled. “I’ll pay it. I’ll give you the cash just to get you the hell out of my house. I don’t want you here.”

  I turned to him. “I don’t want money for nothing. I can’t take it. All I want is honest work. What do you care if I clean your house?”

  His body was tense and defensive as he answered, “What female doesn’t want money? I’m offering to pay you without you having to do the job. A year’s pay. That’s fair.”

  It was more than generous, which told me that Xander had a conscience, but it wasn’t happening. I’d always had a good work ethic, and I wasn’t leaving. I was staying here, no matter what it took to keep me from being thrown out bodily.

  “I won’t do it. I’ve never taken anything I didn’t earn, and I’m not starting now,” I answered stubbornly.

  I sized him up now that I was facing him. Even with the scars on his face, he was still handsome. For me, the scars were a symbol of his courage, and just made him look more rugged and powerful. I was guessing he had a workout room somewhere in the home judging by his ripped appearance and powerful biceps. The T-shirt he was wearing did very little to hide how muscular he was, or that he was obviously in very good physical shape.

  His hair was a little bit shaggy and long, and his jaw was covered in dark scruff. As I looked up at him, I could tell he was over six-foot tall. Usually, I wasn’t the kind of woman who liked tattoos, but the intricate, black markings on his biceps actually suited him. His eyes were dark brown and currently angry as hell. Really, the whole Xander package should have been frightening, but he wasn’t. Not to me.

  I couldn’t exactly put a finger on why he didn’t scare me. It was completely gut instinct since he hadn’t given me a single reason why I shouldn’t be running away as fast as my little white sandals would carry me.

  His voice was still belligerent as he said, “I don’t want you here.”

  “So you’ve said. Then what do you want?” I asked. “You’re obviously not happy.”

  “What the hell do you know about happiness?” he growled.

  I knew quite a bit about it, actually. I’d spent most of my life without it, so I’d learned to appreciate every single bit of happiness I could get now that I was all grown up and in charge of my own life. “I know it isn’t always easy to find,” I confessed. “Xander, just let me stay. Give me a week. Tell me what you want, and I’ll try to accommodate you.”

  “Enough whiskey to make me forget who I am.”

  “Can’t do that.”

  “You asked what would make me happy,” he argued.

  “Think of something else. I’ll cook. I’ll clean.”

  “The only two things that I want right now are to get laid or get drunk or stoned.”

  I was ready for his comment. Over the course of my conversations with Micah and Julian, I knew that was often Xander’s irritated response.

  Time to call him on his statement. I couldn’t give him the substances he wanted to escape, but I could grant his other wish. And I’d do it if it just kept me here for a while.

  “Okay,” I agreed compliantly, then turned back to my suitcase to finish unpacking.

  “What do you mean by…okay?” His voice sounded slightly confused and taken aback. “What kind of response is that?”

  I went to hang up a sundress, then went back for some jeans. “I agree. I can’t give you the alcohol. But I get wanting to have sex. It’s a normal bodily urge for a guy your age. I get it.”

  “I’m glad you get some, because I don’t,” he said with a humorless laugh.

  I ignored the fact that he’d misquoted the words I’d said. I reached into the back zipper pocket of my suitcase, and then turned back toward Xander again.

  “Here.” I shoved the box into his hand.

  “What the hell is this?” He accepted it like it was a snake.

  “Condoms. Safe sex.”

  He tossed the box back on the bed. “Keep it. No woman would have me right now.”

  “I will,” I offered. “If you were to be nicer to me, I’d have sex with you. I find you attractive. But I don’t do stinky guys who haven’t showered.”

  His eyes grew wider as he stared at me like I was crazy. “Lady, you’ve got a problem.”

  I shrugged. “You think so? What’s wrong with being honest? You’d be pretty hot if you’d shower and take care of yourself.”

  “What about all the things women care about?” He looked seriou
sly confused as he gaped at me.

  “Love? Dating? Flowers?”

  “Yeah, yeah. All of that stuff? I don’t do that stuff. I fuck. That’s it.” He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  “Guys have sex just for pleasure, right? Is it so bad that I’m willing to do the same thing?”

  Actually, I didn’t run around looking for a guy just to get laid, and every one of the few sexual encounters I’d had in my life had meant something to me. I didn’t have no-strings-attached, casual sex. I’d never experienced the visceral, immediate reaction of my body the way it was responding to Xander. I had a vibrator to satisfy my needs when I wasn’t in a relationship. But I wasn’t about to let Xander know that.

  “All women want something,” he grumbled.

  “Not me. No strings attached. I just need sexual chemistry.” It was every guy’s dream, right? A woman who wanted nothing but sex? I knew Xander needed a whole hell of a lot more than that, but I’d start there.

  “And you feel that? With me?” He sounded like he didn’t believe what he was hearing.

  My heart clenched as I recognized the slight vulnerability in his tone. I was attracted to him, and I wasn’t all hung up on needing a committed relationship to have sex. My past had made me learn to never to take a single day for granted. Even though I’d never done it before, I was willing to try no pressure sex with Xander.

  I was just that desperate for him to let me stay.

  “Yes.” I didn’t elaborate.

  “You realize you’re crazy?” he asked hesitantly.

  I smiled. “Maybe.”

  His lips twitched as he moved to the bed and picked up the box of condoms. “Magnum? Is that wishful thinking?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “And why in the hell are you carrying around an economy sized box of rubbers?”

  I still didn’t answer.

  To be honest, I was uncommonly uncertain what to say. Normally, I didn’t carry a box of raincoats. It had been an impulse buy, a gut instinct before I came here, and I had no idea what was economy sized. Obviously, the box I’d bought was overkill.