by T. M. Cromer
Amy had been in love with Brandon since their high school days when he’d been captain of the varsity basketball team. He rarely bothered to speak to the two of them because he’d labeled Faith as a freak and Amy as a nerd years before. Faith was left to wonder how they’d gotten so lucky to be graced with his obnoxious presence tonight.
She rolled her eyes and downed her second shot.
“I love a girl who slams tequila.” Brandon’s companion, Joey, laid it on thick as he wedged in between her and the neighboring stool.
“Good for you.”
Amy’s elbow found her ribs. The “be nice” was implied.
Faith leaned around Amy to ask, “Hey, Brandon, do you play volleyball?”
Amy, in the process of sipping her drink, sputtered and spit liquid across the bar. Faith, great friend that she was, slapped Amy on the back to help. Mascara streaked her friend’s cheeks.
“Um, you might want to do a makeup check in the bathroom, Amy.”
“I hate you,” she returned and stomped off.
Amused, Faith watched her go and turned back to her drink. She didn’t fail to notice the look that passed between Brandon and his cohort.
“What did I miss, fellas?”
Brandon graced her with an evil smirk. “I see you’re still the resident freak. Freaky Faith.”
Bored with his childish behavior, Faith glanced around the room and downed a good portion of her margarita. “I can tell you haven’t grown up much in the twelve years since you graduated school.”
“Neither have you. The orange hair is gone, but the fact that you’re weird never will be.”
His comments didn’t sting. Not even a little. Or if they did, she refused to acknowledge the hit. “And you still have a tiny penis. How’s that working out for you?”
Red faced, he gestured for the goon beside her to follow him as he stormed away.
“Making friends again, I see.”
The delicious voice was unmistakable. Randall Crandall had found her. She spun to face him and frowned. Why was he blurry?
“I live to m-make friendssss.” Had her words come out slurred? What the hell?
She lifted her hand and stared at her shaking fingers.
“Faith?” Concern laced Rand’s tone. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” She swayed. “I don’t feel very well.”
“Could it be the three drinks you inhaled?” he asked dryly.
“N-no.” She took a deep breath and tried to meet his gaze. “Rand, I f-feel… off.”
His expression turned black. He barked at the closest bartender to put what remained of her drink to the side and make sure no one touched it. In a single swoop, he had her in his arms and her purse in hand as he charged for the door.
As the room spun, she thought she heard Amy’s frantic voice hammering Rand with questions. It was the last thing she remembered.
RAND WAS PISSED. He suspected someone drugged Faith in the short time she’d been at the bar. He’d witnessed the effects of Rohypnol once when he’d stumbled across a friend’s sister at a party. She’d been out of her mind and being led away by a couple of scumbags. Luckily for her, he’d been able to make short work of her would-be rapists and get her medical attention.
“Go back and get her drink. I want it analyzed at the hospital.” As Faith’s blonde friend left to do his bidding, he carried Faith outside. “Faith. Faith, honey, I need you to listen to me. I think you’ve been drugged. Can you hear me?”
She mumbled something incoherent and tried to wave her hand.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m going to try to make you throw up. Shoot for the bushes not my shoes, okay?”
Again, she mumbled. With nothing left for it, he inserted his finger into her mouth and prayed he’d hit her gag reflex on the first try. She bit him. Contrary female!
“Fuck! Faith, I need you to help me out here okay?”
For his second attempt, he got a cough and another bite.
“Okay, screw it. Come on, trouble. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
Faith’s friend returned, glass in a plastic bag and liquid in a capped container. He gave her a nod of approval for her attention to detail.
“What’s the shortest route to the hospital from here?”
“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?”
“No, it’s faster if I take her.”
“Well, I’m not leaving her alone with you.”
He had to give the little blonde bombshell props. She was brave to stand up to him when he must look ready to rip someone in two.
“Fine, get in.” He propped Faith up against his Porche long enough to unlock the door then he buckled her into the passenger seat. The friend wiggled into the non-existent back seat and held on for dear life as he tore through the streets of St. Helena. “What’s your name?”
“Amy.”
“Who were the two guys at the bar with you earlier?”
“You mean Brandon and Joey?” Her confusion could be heard, but he didn’t spare her a glance. His focus was on the road.
“But they’re harmless,” she protested.
Rage exploded in his head at the idea of Faith being at their mercy. He hadn’t particularly cared for the sight of the two goons sidled up to the women at the bar. But Faith hadn’t given them the time of day, and her contempt had been obvious. At the time, he’d breathed a sigh of relief, unsure why he cared.
“Are they? Because one of them spiked Faith’s drink.”
Amy remained silent for the remainder of the ride, which proved she wasn’t as dumb as he initially thought. Either that, or she had a sense of self-preservation.
As they tore into the hospital lot and parked in front of the ER doors, Amy said, “Faith’s brother, Tony, is a doctor here.”
He nodded once and tossed her the keys. “Don’t scratch it,” he warned as he lifted Faith.
Upon entering the emergency room, Rand yelled for help. The doctor who rushed toward him was without a doubt a Fiore. He was a male version of Faith’s older sister.
“Faith!” Tony took out a penlight and tested her reaction in both eyes. After he yelled for a gurney, he turned the full force of his angry gaze on Rand. “What the hell happened? What did you do to my sister?”
“I believe she may have been roofied at The Hangover. One moment she was her snarky self, and the next she was claiming she didn’t feel well. I tried to make her throw up, but she bit me instead.”
Tony barked a half laugh. “Sounds like Faith. I’ll take it from here.”
As Tony wheeled Faith away, Rand experienced a moment of panic. The urge to race after the medical team nearly overpowered him. Helpless, he lingered in the hall. Within thirty minutes, the Fiore clan descended en masse.
“Every time I see you, you’re hanging around my sister.”
“Yeah, well, not by choice. Your sister gives new meaning to the word headache,” he snapped. Though why he was irritated was beyond his ability to reason right then.
“Yes, she’s the family’s cross to bear.”
Her comment shouldn’t have pissed him off more, but it did. He refrained from commenting. Over her shoulder, he noted Amy in deep conversation with a police officer. Her hands waved in her agitation, and she pointed to Rand. A large beast of a cop made a beeline in his direction.
“Amy said you were the man who brought Faith in.”
“I am.”
“Care to tell me what happened?”
“Not much to tell. I approached Faith in The Hangover. She started to shake, and then said she didn’t feel well. Within another minute, her eyes were rolling back in her head. I tried to get her to throw up, and when she wouldn’t, I brought her directly here. End of story.”
“Amy said you ordered her to grab Faith’s drink from the bar.”
“I did. I once saw a friend’s sister after she’d been slipped a roofie. Faith appeared to be acting the same way.”
“Quite the coincidence about your friend’s
sister and Faith both being drugged with you around, huh?”
Rand jerked as if he’d been struck. A vein throbbed alarmingly in his neck as his heart increased its pace. Pissed as he’d never been before, he growled, “What the hell are you implying?”
A slight hand patted his arm, but it was the officer the owner addressed. “Now, Coby. Mr. Crandall is an upstanding member of our little community. He also owns the firm who was hired to keep the Vineyard’s books.”
Rand glanced down to see his champion. The tiny Italian woman could be none other than Isabella, matriarch of the Fiore family and owner of Fiore Vineyard. Her classically beautiful features gave him an idea of what Faith would look like in another thirty years.
“Yes, Ms. Fiore. I’m sorry.”
Rand’s head whipped up. The contrition in the cop’s voice almost had him laughing. At six-foot-two, Rand was a fairly tall guy. Officer Coby Adams had him beat by a good two inches, and that this five-foot-nothing woman had taken the good officer to task was hilarious.
“Now go find the bastards who drugged my daughter.”
Between the off-color language and the steel in her tone, she’d shocked him. Rand joined Coby in staring down at her. The tiny woman reminded him of how Hollywood portrayed a mobster’s sweet Italian mama. One minute, she was feeding everyone, the next, she was ordering death to anyone who threatened her family. If he was being honest, the woman scared him a little.
Hope lowered her voice for only him to hear. “Don’t worry, hot stuff. You saved her daughter. You’re in her good graces.”
“Does it make me less of a man to admit she terrifies me?”
Her laughter trailed her as she left him in the hall.
CHAPTER 5
F aith’s body was in full-protest mode upon waking. The sound of the heart monitor initially confused her. Once she got her bearings, she let the man in the recliner capture her full attention. His dark head was bent over an e-reader, and he had yet to realize she was awake. What was she doing in the hospital? And why was Rand here?
She shifted and groaned. Convinced her head was about to explode into a million pieces, she compressed it between both hands. Rand stepped into her peripheral vision.
Voice low and soothing, he asked, “Do you need me to call a nurse?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. What happened?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” He asked as he reached to press the call button.
“I saw you when I entered the bar. Then Amy and I ordered drinks.”
She glanced up in time to see his features tighten.
“Do you remember talking to a couple of guys while you were sitting at the bar?”
Faith thought hard and tried to recall. Based on his grim expression, something dire had happened to her. Panic assailed her, and she fought back nausea. “No.”
Rand perched on the edge of her bed. With great care, he reached for her hand and clasped it between his two large, warm palms. “Okay. It’s important for you to realize you’re safe now.”
She drew back her hand and wrapped her arms around her aching stomach. “Rand, you’re scaring me. What happened?”
“I believe one of the two men at the bar slipped a date-rape drug into your drink.”
She could no longer hold back her nausea. In the back of her mind, she had to once again admire his agility and speed. He had a plastic, kidney-shaped bin in front of her and was off the bed in a flash. After she emptied the contents of her stomach, she glanced up. Heat flooded her face, and she wished he’d never witnessed her disgrace.
“I was raped?” she asked hoarsely.
“No!” he nearly shouted and took a step in her direction. He came up short and looked away from the pan containing what was left of last night’s dinner and alcohol. In a choked voice, he reaffirmed, “No. I got to you just as the drug was taking effect. Amy and I brought you here.”
As he continued to avoid her eyes, looking everywhere but at her, she had a strong feeling he was uncomfortable.
“You’re lying,” she accused flatly.
Surprise lit his pale eyes. “No, I’m not. I…” His eyes fell to the pan, and he swallowed hard. As she watched, he took a shallow breath and scrubbed his palm over the lower half of his face. “I…”
The truth hit her. She’d have laughed if she could’ve. “You have a weak stomach!”
“I wouldn’t say weak necessarily.”
He tried to keep his dignity in place, and because of his heroic act last night, she let him. “Will you go find my brother for me?”
Rand, bless his heart, looked torn. He didn’t seem to want to leave her, but he also kept eyeing the bedpan like it was a rattlesnake. Faith bit her lip to stem her giggle.
“Please?”
He nodded and strode from the room. Her smile blossomed. Randall Crandall was human after all.
Within minutes, her brother showed up along with one of the RNs. She took the bowl from Faith and disappeared to wash it.
“You found quite the protector in that guy,” her brother informed her as he checked her vitals.
“Rand?”
“He’s been here since he brought you in six hours ago.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“He said something about not leaving until he saw you were okay with his own eyes.”
Because Faith didn’t have an answer to his unspoken question, she changed the subject. “Did you call Mom?”
“I did. When you were out of the woods and fell into a natural sleep, I sent her and the others home.”
“But Rand stayed?” She could scarce wrap her mind around it.
“He did.” Tony spooned a few cubes of ice into her dry mouth. “He was as fierce as anyone I’d ever seen when he insisted he was staying. I think you really worried him. Do you remember any of what happened?”
“No. Rand told me, but I’m drawing a complete blank. Is that normal?” Fear crept in.
“For some.”
“He said I wasn’t raped.”
“You weren’t. You got lucky.”
Because there was no censure in her brother’s tone, any defiance she normally would have expressed never formed. Instead, hot moisture formed behind her lids, and she closed her eyes against the onslaught of tears.
“Don’t cry, funny face.” Her brother gathered her close and stroked her hair back from her warm face.
“I don’t even know how it happened. I would never leave my drink unattended.”
“You didn’t,” Rand stated from the doorway. He straightened from the jamb and moved to the base of the bed. “While I couldn’t see your drink from where I was standing, I did see you turn to speak with the man on your left. That left your glass wide open for his friend. It only takes a second.”
“I feel so stupid.”
“Why? You did nothing wrong.”
She could tell he meant it. He honestly appeared confused by her statement. “I should have been on guard. Women my age know to be on guard.”
His lips compressed, and he shook his head. “It’s a sad world when women can’t go out and have a good time.”
“Why, Randall Crandall, I do declare. I think I love you.”
A laugh erupted as she witnessed the color highlight his cheeks. Who knew Rand could be so easily embarrassed?
“Randall Crandall?” Tony chuckled.
“Not you too,” Rand sighed. “What is with you Fiores?”
Faith met her brother’s laughing gaze. They shared their unspoken amusement before Tony cleared his throat.
“I’ve got to get back to work. Drink some water. If you can hold it down, I’ll bring you something to eat in a little bit.”
“How long do I have to stay?”
“Until I deem you’re ready to go home.”
She scowled and he laughed.
“Don’t worry. You have Randall Crandall to torture for a while.”
Tony left amid both their protests.
RAND HEAVED a tired si
gh as Tony sailed out the door.
“You don’t have to stay.”
Her voice sounded so small and achingly sweet, he was compelled to face her. “I’ll stay.”
What the hell was wrong with him? She was awake and almost back to her snarky self. Hadn’t she proved that with her fake declaration of love? Yet, he couldn’t leave. Perhaps it was how pale she still appeared. Or maybe underneath it all, he recognized she was putting on a brave front.
“Try to rest. I’ll stay and read for a bit.”
“Do you mind talking to me for a while? I’m not really sleepy.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his head. God, he sucked at small talk. His clients always wanted to chat about this or that and all he wanted to do was get back to work. Numbers soothed him, took his mind off the everyday shitshow that was life.
“Never mind.”
Her hurt was on display. Both her face and voice reflected her inner emotions.
“I’m not much of a conversationalist, trouble.”
He noted her frown.
“Is that the first time you called me that? I have a vague memory…”
“I might have said it last night,” Rand confirmed.
“Did they arrest the men who drugged me?”
“Officer Adams intended to question them.”
“Coby?” Her face lit up. “Coby was here?”
Something dark and ugly unfurled in his belly. Were she and the cop an item? Shit. Maybe he’d been wrong in assuming she’d participated in their kiss in the alley.
“Yes. Your boyfriend left to get some answers.” The words turned his stomach sour.
“Boyfriend? Coby’s not my boyfriend. He’s dating my sister’s best friend.”
“My mistake.”
“Randall Crandall, do I seem like the type of woman who would kiss one man while dating another?”
Her indignation was belied by the twinkle in her dark eyes.
“You seem like the type of woman who likes to keep a man on his toes,” he retorted. He fought the smile tugging at his lips and stretched out in the recliner across the room to avoid reaching for her.