Exposed: An Anthology

by Brooke Cumberland

  Warm red blood, wet on my hands, my body, my face.

  I no longer saw the black of night surrounding me.

  My vision was engulfed in red.

  Blood red.

  And I feared who it may belong to.

  ~

  “Where is she? Get this shit off me. Where is she?” I roared as I ripped cords off my body. I’d woken up in the hospital, my brain muddled and struggling to compute the circumstances of my being here. Words like concussion and critical and dead were the only things I heard.

  “Calm down, Wild.”

  “Fucking where is she?”

  “Listen, if you keep this up I’ll have to sedate you.” Nurse Andrews placed a firm grasp on my arm. I’d known her since I was a kid, but her nurturing presence did nothing to calm me now.

  “Tell me. Tell me what happened to her.”

  “Just let me get this back in and I’ll bring Slade in.” She gestured to the IV I’d ripped out.

  “Slade’s here?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. The thought of my best friend here tore at my chest.

  “And Ridge,” she murmured. “If you want to see him. He hasn’t left since he got here.” She knew our history, just like everyone else in this town did.

  “How long have I been here?”

  “You’ve been in and out for two days.” She rubbed my arm after reinserting the IV.

  “Christ.” I clenched my hand into a fist. “I don’t remember what happened.”

  “I’ll let them tell you.”

  I only nodded in response. She finished correcting the damage I’d done before she left and my best friend and brother stepped in.

  “Tell me how she is.” My eyes bore into Slade’s and then my brother’s. They glanced at me, pity radiating from their eyes.

  “Oh Christ no.” I choked as my chest heaved with terrified pants. She was dead. All I could remember was him. Her. Drowning. “She’s dead.”

  “He is.”

  “What about Kat? Fucking tell me about Kat.”

  “She was critical, but the doctor finally deemed her stable enough this morning to move her out of ICU. She’s going to make it, Lane. He came just in time. Another minute and she . . . she wouldn’t have survived it.” Ridge stepped closer.

  I’d hardly registered his words, all that ran through my head was that she was alive. My girl was alive. “I need to see her. Take me to her. I need out of here. I’m fine, just let me out.”

  “Lane . . .” my brother stepped up to the bed and placed one hand on my shoulder. “They had to do a rape kit,” he said so softly, I could have imagined it.

  “He . . .?” Tears pricked behind my eyelids. I balled my fists and pushed them into my eyes, trying to ease the ache that had settled there. “He raped her?” My chest heaved with painful pants. I gritted my teeth together and thought of the pain she’d endured at his hands.

  I wanted to kill him. Wanted him dead. Again. I wanted the pleasure of making him suffer at my hands for what he’d taken from her.

  “I don’t think it was the first time.”

  I looked up at my brother. His blue eyes, a perfect reflection of my own, bore into me. I blinked and swallowed down the lump in my throat. How could she not have told me? I could have been there for her, held her against me, never let her out of my sight. If I’d only known.

  And then the sense of failure seeped into me. I’d always listened to the things she’d told me, but I should have listened to the things she hadn’t said. Her defensive words, unwillingness to talk about her past, even saying she’d had a bad divorce. And the flowers. Fuck, the flowers. I should have never let her push me away after that, never let her push me off.

  The one girl that had brought my aching heart back to beating and I had let this happen to her.

  “I need to see her,” I whispered as pain seeped through every muscle of my body. “I need to see her.” I growled and grabbed for the IV lodged in my hand.

  “Just stay calm, the doctor will be here in a minute now that you’re awake, and then the police chief will want your statement.” Slade wrapped a hand around my wrist to stop me from tearing the lines out of my arm.

  “Fuck the statement, I don’t even know what happened. The last I remember is seeing her under the water.”

  “You don’t know what happened with her ex?”

  “No, I just remember blood, and then nothing.”

  Slade and Ridge glanced at each other.

  “Kat’s dad killed him.”

  “What . . . what the fuck are you talking about?” And then I remembered the shadow that’d come up from behind me.

  “When Kat left, her ex tracked down her dad and threatened him. He knew they were after her. He searched for her, everywhere she’d ever been as a kid, places she’d talked about, he even hired a private investigator. He’d finally found her here, but he also discovered you. Their relationship had been hurt for so long, he hadn’t been in her life, he thought if she had you it would be enough. You could protect her like he never could. Then the PI said she’d disappeared. Just gone. Her dad came.”

  “Fuck.” I ran my free hand through my hair.

  “He saw your tracks to the lighthouse so he followed. He saw you fumbling with the knife, but you had hypothermia, Lane, you were disoriented and dropped the knife and he grabbed it and killed her ex. He pulled her from the water. You’d passed out.”

  “Where is he?” My mind struggled to comprehend all the new information.

  “He’s given his statement. They’ve asked him not to leave town,” Slade finished.

  Just then the doctor entered the small room and shooed my brother and best friend out.

  “Glad to have you back, Wild.” I narrowed my eyes at his cheery attitude.

  It was Dr. Ballsack, the fucker that had been out on the date with Kat at the restaurant.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Upon arriving at the hospital, they’d discovered that she had two broken ribs and a few more that were bruised, a fractured ankle, and a mild concussion. She’d also been talking to the on-sight counselor every day about the psychological effects of him kidnapping and raping her.

  She was in rough shape.

  The thought that after all she’d been through, she’d managed to take her ex down; save herself and me . . . I was so fucking proud of my strong girl. She was a fighter; I’d known it from the start. After escaping him, she’d still been worried about me more than herself.

  They’d insisted on keeping me for a few days under observation after I’d awoken. I was fine with that. I was fine with anything as long as I was set up in the same room as Kat. The nurses had been huffy on that, but it was the only way in hell I would let them keep me, so they’d relented.

  I wanted to keep my eye on Dr. Douche. What can I say? I’m a territorial fucking asshole.

  Beyond that, I wasn’t willing to take my eyes off Kat. I couldn’t help blaming myself for leaving her. What the fuck had I been thinking? Why had I walked out that door and let her push me away?

  Her ex had shown up that very night. He’d had his goons watching us and was holed up in a hotel the next town over, waiting for the right time to make his move. He’d had it planned for months, taking her, scaring her, putting the fear back into her that she’d worked so hard to forget. He’d taken her to that lighthouse to buy some time, waiting for the storm to pass. He knew I’d come looking for her at her place and he’d needed the time to beat her back down before taking her back to Chicago with him.

  When he’d taken her, he’d also threatened my life, thrown picture after picture of us together on the table. The idea made me sick that someone had been watching us in our most intimate moments, when I’d been running my hands over her body, murmuring in her ear, thinking how much I loved her. She’d caved as soon as she saw the pictures of us together and promised to do whatever he’d said.

  He’d ordered one of his goons to get rid of her car then he’d had her write
the note.

  Shame ate away at me because his plan had worked. I wanted to think I would have followed her despite the note. I loved her, but in reality, the only thing that had led me to her that night was the yellow glow coming from the lighthouse. If not for that, I might have never found her, might have never even gone after her, and who knows what would have happened? I don’t know if he would have killed her. I liked to think not, but either way, Kat and I didn’t talk about it.

  There was also her dad.

  Little had she known that he’d been keeping an eye on her. He explained to me while Kat napped that he thought she was finally protected when she married Jeremy. He read every newspaper article and watched the TV coverage, marveled at the beautiful woman she’d grown into. That was until a few years into their marriage and some big guys showed up on his doorstep. He soon realized that his daughter was in over her head. He knew then that Jeremy had ties to organized crime because they’d threatened his life if he ever tried to make contact with Kat. A deadbeat, alcoholic father wasn’t good PR for a campaign.

  It was then that he knew that Kat was in more danger than ever, whether she knew it or not. When the big guys had come around again a few months ago, grilling him about Kat’s whereabouts, and threatening his life if he was hiding her, he knew she finally knew the truth and was running. It was then he’d started searching for her. And not long after, he’d found her. And me.

  When Kat was awake, and we lay in bed huddled together by ourselves, she told me about her past. She explained her marriage.

  Her natural, strawberry red hair was viewed as wild and risky, so he’d made her color it a safer, more predictable shade. We also talked about her name. Her married name had been Natasha Katherine Walsh, but she was adamant that she still went by Kat Kennedy. She insisted that Natasha Walsh wasn’t her, had never been her. Kat had been the woman she’d discovered when she’d shed Natasha. She also liked the idea of honoring her mother’s ancestral name. She had plans to change her name officially as soon as she was released.

  Now we lay huddled together in her hospital bed on New Year’s Eve. Other than the nurse checking our vitals periodically, we were alone. I’d grown pretty growly and protective of my Kat time. I had time to make up for. Needed to show her what she meant to me, which meant having my hands on her at all times, whether it was her hand on mine, my palm stroking her hair, or having her circled in my arms. I hadn’t left her side other than to shower and go the restroom. I couldn’t bear to have her out of my sight again.

  “Tell me,” she murmured drowsily. I glanced up at the New Year’s countdown playing quietly on the TV. She asked me this every day. The doctors explained it as post-traumatic stress. Overall, she was recovering well, physically and emotionally, but every day, she asked about him.

  I explained the events of that night to her, filling in the gaps about her dad. She cried some nights, was relieved others. And she was always happy to have her dad back in her life. Her heart broke that she may have to let him go again if he went into witness protection.

  “I’m sorry that you came; he could have killed you.”

  “But he didn’t.” I swiped a watery tear from her cheek. “I have something for you,” I mumbled as I reached around to pull the small box containing the gift I’d gotten her for Christmas out of my jacket pocket.

  Her eyes widened in surprise.

  “It’s not that.” I grinned as a chuckle escaped my throat. “Besides, I’ve recently come to discover that I’ve been sleeping with a married woman.” I winked and bumped my shoulder against hers. She huffed before her eyes lit with amusement.

  “Ass.” She gave a playful tug on the hair at my nape.

  “But don’t think as soon as you’re better I won’t be asking you that question soon.” My voice softened as her eyes flicked up to mine. Her greens bored into me, so much emotion swirling behind them.

  She sucked her lip between her teeth as she glanced down to our hands locked together. My thumb caressed the soft skin of her palm as tears welled in her eyes. “You think you can handle my smart mouth and naughty behavior?” she teased

  “Mmm, I like your dirty mouth, remember?” I wrapped a hand around her waist and squeezed her ass, pulling her to me simultaneously to grind my throbbing cock into her, to show her just how much I liked her, any way I could get her.

  “Lane . . .” she moaned. “I need you.”

  “Not here. Christ, baby.”

  “Since when are you shy?” She pouted as she ran her fingers through my hair and sent delicious shivers racing across my body. She knew what that did to me. She knew it and was trying to use it to her advantage. Such a she-devil.

  “Since I’m wearing a hospital gown and my ass is hanging out. Doesn’t do much for putting a guy in the mood. Anyway, I have something to give you.”

  “Oh, right.” She smiled up at me. I passed her the gift and she ripped open the wrapping paper.

  “Lane . . .” she whispered as she opened the box and revealed the necklace that was nestled inside. She pulled it out and fingered the platinum sailboat that hung on a chain, one deep-blue sapphire set into the boat’s mainsail. Shining under the single overhead light, the sapphire reflected a brilliant six-rayed star. I’d bought it that day on the street, just after we’d run into Ridge and Mia. I’d spotted it when we were window-shopping and when Kat was preoccupied in another store, I’d ducked out and had the jeweler hold it for me.

  I hadn’t thought much about what to get Kat for Christmas, but when I’d seen it, the brilliant starburst under the lights, it’d felt so right, the memory of our evening on the deck of the boat, watching the stars. Now, after everything she’d gone through, everything we’d been through together, it felt so inadequate.

  “I’m sorry if you don’t like it. I know it pales—”

  “Shut up.” She pressed her lips to mine in a searing kiss. She wrapped her hands in my hair and fisted, pushing herself up on top of me, her hair curtained around us, her lips never breaking contact. “I love it,” she mumbled against my lips as I trailed my hands up her body.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “Put it on me?” She held it out. I took it in my hands, wrapped the chain around her neck. She pulled her hair to one side as I snapped the clasp closed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She fingered the gem.

  “It’s a star sapphire. In dim light it’s just a normal gem, but in bright light it reflects the star . . . That was one of my favorite nights,” I mumbled as I trailed a finger along the edge of the shining platinum at her collarbone.

  “Not mine.” She sat above me, her eyes shining. I scrunched my eyes in question. “Not mine, because they’re all my favorite. Every night we spent together became my new favorite. Hockey games and pizza, spaghetti, sitting on the shore, the night on your front porch when everyone else was asleep and you made me—” she lowered her voice before leaning in and whispering in my ear just exactly what I’d made her do and how much she’d loved it.

  A low groan escaped my throat as the memory seared a path to my groin. “Kat.”

  “Each and every one is my favorite. And I love this. Thank you.” She fingered the necklace at her throat. “It’s beautiful, and is so perfectly you.” She kissed me again, my hands working up her thighs to touch her skin. I needed her.

  “Hands off, Lane.” The door flew open and the aged nurse that was on call tonight shot a dirty glance my way.

  “Christ, we have to get out of here. My dick is going to fall off if I don’t get inside you soon,” I grumbled against Kat’s hair as a giggle escaped her throat. She wiggled a little as she rolled off me.

  “Patience is a virtue, remember? Imagine how hard you’ll come when you’re finally inside me.” She winked, repeating the words I’d said to her when we’d first gotten together months ago.

  “Christ.” I scrubbed my palm over my face. “Fucking killing me.” I turned to adjust myself as Kat smirked.

  I couldn�
��t be in the same room with this woman without wanting her. I was drawn to her, completely. She was an addiction, her flaming hair and the fire in her eyes pulled me to her, and I was helpless to resist.

  And I was a willing victim.

  At every single stop on the journey, I’d been a willing victim.

  Yep. My balls were firmly tucked in Kat’s purse, and there was nowhere else I would rather they be.

  Except buried inside her. I could always handle being buried inside Kat.

  ***

  Epilogue

  “I need to see her.” I barked as I barreled my way through the small group of women standing outside the door.

  “Lane . . .” Claire peeked through the small crack between the door and doorjamb.

  “Claire, I need to see her.”

  “Always were so damn stubborn.”

  I arched an eyebrow at her, she never swore. My entire life, I’d never heard Claire Barton swear.

  “Ya gonna let me in?” I tugged at the tie that felt like it was suffocating me.

  “When can I ever say no to you?” She stepped out with a loving smile on her face.

  “Thanks,” I murmured and placed a kiss on her forehead.

  “Make it quick.” She patted my arm and then moved aside.

  I opened the door and my eyes scanned the room, seeking out the other half of my heart.

  “Sugar,” I breathed as I took long strides to where she sat on a stool in front of a mirror. Makeup spread around a desk, hair shit and so many other things I had no idea about.

  “Hi,” she muttered, her hands twisting together.

  “Nervous, baby?” I pulled her up into my arms, wrapping her up, covering her with my body, shielding her from everything outside of our bubble.

  “No. Yes.” She passed me a weak smile. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”

  “Are you fucking kidding? I want to wake up to this smart mouth every morning for the rest of my life.” I grinned and placed a kiss on her lips. “I want you hogging my pillow every night. I want every Christmas with you. Every birthday. I want it all.”