The Southern Comfort Series Box Set

by Clark O'Neill, Lisa

  “Most definitely. The dude looks like he came out wearing a birthday suit by Christian Dior, if you know what I’m saying. High class, top of the line – the distinct aroma of old money. Makes your water stained tie look pretty bad.”

  Josh scowled, and looked at his tie. He’d paid over a hundred dollars for this thing, dammit. He looked up to catch Chris grinning. “Are you just trying to yank my chain again? Does the guy really look like a reject from Monster Garage?”

  “Nope,” Chris said with a twinkle. “Definitely Harvard, and let me tell you he’s no reject. If your girl turns him down, maybe she’ll give me his number.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “Yeah, well, a boy can dream.” With that, Chris slapped his thighs and stood up, nearly snapping the arm off the chair in the process. “It’s been fun, Josh, but I have to get back to work.”

  “Yeah, me too. Hey, thanks Chris, really. I owe you one.”

  “Nah. We’re square.” He maneuvered his large bulk past Josh’s desk.

  Josh barely noticed the other man’s passage, as he was caught up in the puzzle he’d left him. A well-dressed, moneyed calendar boy working in a dive like The Roadhouse?

  He knew better than to make assumptions based on appearances, but something was definitely off. He’d check into this Dave or Dane or whatever the hell his name was, and see just what he dug up.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JOEY Santone sank his knife into the cushion of the ugly-ass sofa, grunting with satisfaction as the fabric gave way. Reaching in to grope around, he came up with nothing but a handful of stuffing, but at least the destruction made up for the fact that he kept batting zero. After almost two – or was it three? Shit, probably closer to that – solid months of having to hang back twiddlin’ his thumbs, the damn boss had finally allowed him to do something.

  Not that ransacking this shithole was all that exciting, but it was for damn sure better than emptying out a bunch of friggin’ bedpans over at the hospital. He’d smelled like a nasty-ass mixture of antiseptic and death for months.

  The death, he was used to.

  The antiseptic made him want to gag.

  Friggin’ boss. If he was gonna forge an identity for him to get him close to good ole Donnie, why hadn’t he made it something worthwhile? He thought it might be fun to be one of them surgeons. One little slip of the knife and whoops, Missus White bleeds to death. Or Mister Jones starts singing soprano.

  He snickered, totally cracking himself up.

  It wasn’t like he hadn’t killed before. But doin’ it in the operating room, with a bunch of self-righteous nurses looking on in horror – well, that would be something new. Then maybe he’d grab one of those nurses – like that bitch, Karen Davis, who was always looking at him sideways – and show her a thing or two about what he was really qualified to do.

  Damn. Just the thought of it made him hard.

  And since the boss had finally found some balls and sent him to do something other than twiddle his damn thumbs, he had hopes that maybe he’d be seeing that kind of action again soon. He’d love to get his hands on that stupid nurse, and definitely Donnie’s precious baby sister, before he disappeared back into the woodwork. Lord knew there were plenty of chances for a little accident to befall one or both of them.

  Leavin’ that hospital in the middle of the night could be dangerous for a lone woman.

  You never knew who might be out there, waiting in the back seat of your car.

  Joey blinked, realizing that he’d just been standing there for the past five minutes, letting his fantasies distract him from what he was supposed to be doing. Not that he had any cause to worry about baby sister comin’ home, or any of the neighbors caring about what was happening and calling the cops, but still, a guy couldn’t be too careful.

  He shuddered out a breath, feeling the uncomfortable pressure of his erection straining against his zipper. It had been too damn long since he’d had the particular brand of satisfaction he craved, and it was making him lose focus.

  He looked around at the remains of the wrecked apartment, sure that what the boss was looking for wasn’t here. If it had been, he would have found it. There weren’t exactly a lot of places to hide things in this cracker box.

  Which meant he’d have to keep an even closer eye on baby sister.

  He moaned softly, thinking about how much more enjoyable it would be if he could just force the information out of her his way. Just like he’d done with that other little bitch who’d given the boss problems.

  Damn, but she’d been a live one.

  Well, for a little while anyway.

  Joey slapped his leg, thinking that maybe he’d missed his calling. He should have been a standup comic.

  Sighing, he got a grip on his wayward thoughts and shoved aside the little fantasy about baby Sammy. His damn employer had been clear – don’t touch the sister.

  Not yet, at least.

  Not until they found what they were looking for, or good ole Donnie woke up and started talkin’.

  And then they were both dead meat.

  Joey smiled coldly, closed his switchblade with a flip of his wrist, and picked up the flat-screen with a coordinated heave of thigh and shoulder. With one last look around, he satisfied himself that it looked like your basic robbery. Well, he admitted, eyeballing Sammy’s pretty panties with a shit-eatin’ grin, maybe he’d gone a little overboard. But a guy had to have some fun.

  Joey’s rock-hard member pressed against his fly as he walked toward the door, reminding him that he still needed to release a little tension. He had to be on top of his game, now that the ball seemed to be rolling.

  Maybe he’d find himself a working girl tonight after shift. Nobody really noticed or even gave a damn when somebody roughed one up, but it lost a little of its appeal knowing he was paying some bitch to let him do it.

  He thought of little Sammy again, wistfully. She was a risk he couldn’t take.

  But Karen the High and Mighty… maybe if he played his cards right, and was real cool about it, he could have a little fun with the bitch and the boss would be none the wiser. She wasn’t nearly as built as Sammy, but she had a nice enough ass.

  And all the other essential pieces.

  Joey brought a vivid mental image of the nosy little brunette to his mind, thinking she wouldn’t be quite so damn superior when he had her beneath him.

  Nurse Karen didn’t know it yet, but she was about to make him real happy.

  He’d just have to make damn certain that her body was never found.

  SAM’S shoulders slumped as she left the Family Violence center, heavy with the combination of empowerment and despair that always came with manning the rape crisis hotline. She wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep for the next fifteen years. She was tired. Tired of working in that damn bar, tired of stretching every damn penny, tired of the stress of not knowing when or even if her brother was going to wake up.

  Letting her forehead rest on the steering wheel, Sam acknowledged that a nasty little voice inside her urged her to quit. Quit shouldering other people’s burdens. Quit cleaning up messes that weren’t hers.

  To grab her life back with desperate hands.

  You’ve done what you can, the voice said slyly. Reasonably even. No point knocking yourself out for a lost cause.

  But that was the exhaustion talking. Maybe Dane was right, and she needed to take a little personal time, if only to recharge. What she did at the center was important. Not only to the women whose lives had been shattered, but also to herself.

  And as for her brother…

  She’d keep doing what she had to do. Sam had been through enough crises to know that if you didn’t keep taking that next step, you’d never climb out of the pit into which despair inevitably threw you.

  Donnie hadn’t given up on her when it mattered, and she’d be damned if she gave up on him.

  She turned her car in the direction of the hospital. She’d just peek in on her broth
er and then catch some much needed sleep.

  Except that thinking about heading back to that little hovel made her think about Joshua Harding. What exactly was she going to do when he confronted her again? She’d run herself ragged today in an effort to avoid giving his proposition any consideration, but from a practical standpoint she couldn’t exactly pretend it hadn’t happened. And it was a damn generous offer – pretty characteristic of the man himself.

  But Lord, could she actually go through with it? She’d fled a city once upon a time, because it didn’t seem big enough to house both of them. What made her think that she could survive coexisting in the same apartment? But if she didn’t accept, she was right back where she started, forced to make sacrifices which made her physically ill just to keep her little family going.

  Wipers pushing away the remnants of the heavy rainfall which had assaulted Charleston today, Sam peered at the slick black streets as she weighed her options. It was… surreal that Josh had somehow reappeared in her life at exactly this moment, when she was struggling over how to ensure Donnie got the care he needed and keep herself fed and housed as well. If she’d just been able to finish her degree before this happened, she could be getting paid to do the work she now volunteered for.

  But if wishes were horses…

  Hell, if wishes were horses, she’d probably try to ride one and break her damn neck, the way her luck was going.

  Deciding not to decide anything when she was feeling exhausted and overwhelmed, Sam steered her car into the hospital parking lot, almost giddy when she found a spot near the door. She was sure that she’d merely felt Josh’s eyes on her last night, but that didn’t explain the strange sensation she’d been experiencing for weeks.

  Something watching her. Something… malevolent.

  “Oh, come off it.” Sam rolled her eyes as she yanked her key from the ignition. She was obviously getting a bit too into the spirit of the season. No more late night horror movies for her. Feeling ridiculous, Sam glared at a couple of EMT-types lingering near the entrance who whistled as she passed by, scowled her way to the elevator, and generally indulged herself in a pissy mood until the elevator doors opened. She wouldn’t bring any hostility or worry with her when she went in to see Donnie, because she was convinced that he could sense her moods. Therefore she took a couple deep breaths and calmed herself as she made her way toward his room.

  And what she heard as she drew closer lightened her mood just that much further.

  The sound of a gentle voice raised in song drifted softly into the hall.

  Peeking around the doorframe, Sam saw that Karen Davis was on duty, singing to Donnie as she tended him. Other than Sherry, Karen was the closest Sam had to a real female friend. They’d bonded first over Sam’s brother’s care, then over a mutual and nearly embarrassing weakness for chocolate. Karen was more sympathetic than most of the staff, and always had an ear when Sam needed to talk.

  Sam cleared her throat, and the petite brunette started as she turned around, breaking into a smile when she realized who’d startled her.

  “Hello, Samantha,” she said on a little laugh. “I’m afraid you took me by surprise.”

  “Sorry.” Sam stepped into the room, feeling the heat of a disapproving glare from the ill-tempered woman manning the nursing station. But the pain-in-the-butt wouldn’t say anything about visiting hours tonight – Karen was the senior nurse on duty, and pleasant though she was, she wouldn’t suffer a confrontation lightly. Unlike some of the others, Karen cared more about patients than procedure, and she’d taken both Donnie and Samantha under her wing. In fact, from the tender way Sam sometimes caught her looking at Donnie, she almost imagined that Karen had developed an… attachment to her brother.

  But maybe it was just in her nature to be affectionate and kind.

  “I was just changing the pad under Donnie,” she informed Sam, explaining why her brother was rolled onto his side. “I didn’t want that small bedsore he developed to become irritated any further.”

  Moving closer, Sam eyed her brother’s back with concern. Bedsores, muscle loss and atrophy, and a whole host of other problems, were a constant source of worry given his condition. But Karen was always on top of things, which was only one of the myriad reasons Sam wanted Donnie to stay right here. Karen grunted, tugging on a corner of the pad which had become lodged awkwardly under her patient, and Sam immediately stepped in to assist. Her brother had lost a considerable amount of weight during his stay, but he was still a sizeable man.

  “Shouldn’t an orderly be helping you with this?” Sam asked.

  Karen looked grim. “The orderly on duty tonight is probably outside smoking, or making himself otherwise scarce.” Wadding up the pad, she stuffed it into a bag labeled for waste. “I’ve looked at his credentials several times, and while the man is qualified to do the job, he certainly doesn’t seem to want to do it.” She lifted her eyebrows in a facial shrug. “But what are you gonna do? I’d practically have to catch him stealing drugs or having inappropriate relations with a patient to get him fired. We’ve had a hard time keeping orderlies lately, and while he may not be an ideal employee, he at least shows up on time.”

  “That’s hardly a recommendation.”

  “Tell me about it,” Karen agreed, checking one of Donnie’s tubes. “But it seems like every hospital around is chronically understaffed. What with all this craziness with implementing new regulations and budget cuts and insurance being what it is…” She shrugged. “I guess I’m preaching to the choir though, huh?”

  “You could say that.” Sam started to add something pithy, but the look which crossed Karen’s face had her closing her mouth. Something hard and… wary flitted across her delicate features, and Sam found herself turning to see what had captured the other woman’s attention.

  A man about six feet tall, thick with muscle, dressed in faded blue scrubs, smirked as he filled the doorway. His dark-eyed gaze drifted from Karen toward her, lowering insolently toward her breasts. Refusing to cross her arms, lest she give him the satisfaction of knowing he made her uncomfortable, Sam gathered this was the orderly in question. And wondered how much he’d heard.

  Feeling uneasy despite herself, she waited to see how Karen would handle it.

  “Tony,” Karen got authoritative. “I’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes.”

  “I had to transport a patient.” The smirk spread wider. “To the morgue.”

  “I’ve collected some soiled linens and hazardous waste that I need you to dispose of for me.” She pointed to a couple bags in the corner.

  He stood rooted, staring, for the space of a few heartbeats, then skirted Samantha, brushing closer than strictly necessary.

  Stiff, Karen watched him with a frown.

  “Is that all?” he asked mockingly, bags gathered. Sam could see why Karen didn’t like him.

  “For now.” She let the words fall like verbal bombs. There was a battle of wills here, obviously. Karen’s control slipped a little when the man sent her a jaunty salute, and she started to remonstrate him when he bumped into Donnie’s bed.

  But whatever she’d been about to say was lost in the moment, as from the bed Donnie let out an anguished “No!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT was closer to dawn than Sam wanted to admit when she finally pulled her car to the curb near her apartment. She’d spent hours waiting for Donnie’s doctor to check him out, only to have the man conclude that Donnie’s verbal outburst was simply a reflexive action, and no indication that he was coming out of his coma.

  Reflexive action, her ass. She knew that there were documented cases of coma patients speaking, even getting up and walking, while in the midst of their brain-injured state, but she’d seen Donnie’s frustration for herself tonight. His heart monitor had gone nuts after he’d spoken out loud for the first time in months, and she just knew that he was struggling to break through the veil that separated him from total consciousness. There was no scientific way to prove tha
t, and most of the hospital staff thought she was nuts, but dammit, that single syllable had meant something. The opinions of medical professionals be damned, Sam felt her brother was trying to wake up. And he’d been agitated enough tonight that he’d almost done it.

  Weary beyond belief, Sam nonetheless scanned her surroundings before she unlocked the door to her car. This wasn’t the best neighborhood by any stretch of the imagination, so she never for a minute made the mistake of letting down her guard. Shadows loomed deep and impenetrable in the alley between the old buildings, but the street light showed nothing more menacing than a couple of broken beer bottles and the usual accumulation of fast food wrappers and cigarette butts, now saturated from the earlier rain. A used condom hung from one of the fronds of the palmetto tree beside her, like some kind of twisted decoration. Heaving a sigh, Sam disengaged the lock on the driver’s side only.

  And that’s when she saw him.

  Around the corner, in the alley, sat a black Chevy Blazer with tinted windows, and through the murkiness of the windshield she could just make out his perfect head. Apparently, Josh planned on following her around like some kind of misguided shadow, playing his traditional role of concerned friend to the nines. She supposed she should probably be flattered, or at the very least appreciative, but right now she was simply too tired.

  Pretending she hadn’t seen a thing, because Lord knew what she would admit to him if she confronted him right now, Sam hauled herself out of her car. Josh was just one more problem she’d have to tackle later.

  JOSH watched her trudge toward her apartment, looking like something the cat drug in. Damn, but she was running herself ragged. His arms ached with the need to help her carry some of her burden. Hell, his arms ached simply to hold her – to take whatever she’d give him. He’d worked late tonight, caught a few hours of sleep, then got nervous when he cruised over around midnight and Sam hadn’t shown up. A whole host of possibilities flitted through his brain, first and foremost the notion that he’d already scared her into leaving. But then he’d gotten hold of himself, located her car in the hospital parking lot, and pulled a couple strings to find out that there was something going on with her brother.