Wounds That Won’t Heal

by Calle J. Brookes

  Rafe looked at the dark-haired woman. She was taller than Jillian. But very thin. Healthy? She’d been shot not that long ago; he didn’t think it had even been three months yet, and the possibility for complications still existed.

  Rafe couldn’t help himself from cataloging what he could see.

  He could just make out the scar next to the strap of her gown. The note of concern he felt just pissed him off.

  He didn’t want to care about a woman as part of his family ever again. It hurt too much to watch them die. “Ariella.”

  “Dr. Holden-Deane.”

  She was visibly nervous and for a moment he felt like an ass, frightening a woman who didn’t deserve it. But it was better to make it clear that he didn’t want her in his life now before either of them said or did something he would regret later. “I received your letter.”

  His tone was as cold as he could make it and he saw the way she flinched and trembled. Saw the fire building in her self-proclaimed protector.

  Rafe ignored Jillian for a moment, and focused on his sister.

  “I...Jillian told me. I’m sorry to h-have bothered you. I won’t do it again.”

  She looked about ready to cry at his harsh words. Rafe closed his eyes for a moment, feeling like he’d ripped the wing off a ladybug, or something. He was just about to apologize when Jillian blew up at him.

  “Way to go, Holden-Deane, can’t help but be an asshole, can you?”

  Sure enough, Jillian Beck, defender of the weak, stepped right in front of him—directly between him and his sister.

  Rafe manfully tried to remind himself not to stare down the gap of her gown. Jillian Beck was definitely all woman under those FCGH scrubs she always wore. The white gown just proved that. “Jillian, can’t help but be in my face, can you? Always right there. Stay out of what doesn’t concern you.”

  He deliberately kept his words cool.

  “Jilly, he’s your boss.” Ariella squeaked behind her.

  “So? He’s still a jerk. He’s always been a jerk. He always will be. He’s nothing like Marcus or Travis or Elliot or Chance. He’s a jerk. Even when he was a kid, he was an asshole. You’re better off not claiming him as sharing your DNA, Ari. Who would want to?”

  “This is none of your business, Jillian.” Rafe knew what was about to happen and he winced. He hadn’t meant to argue with her again tonight. Or upset her so much. He saw the tears in those brown eyes of hers.

  Tears he had caused.

  “He doesn’t deserve to be connected to you. He’s nothing but an ogre with a pink stethoscope shoved up his larger than Texas ass!” She suddenly yelled the words at him, tear streaking down her pale cheeks.

  Small feminine hands hit him hard in the chest—before he even realized it, Rafe was falling.

  Right into the crystal blue waters of Houghton Barratt’s ridiculously large pool.

  16

  She shouldn’t have pushed the COM of FCGH into the pool, but damn, if it didn’t feel satisfying.

  Jillian still wasn’t sticking around for the moment when he got out of Houghton’s pool. He was already glaring at her worse than he ever had before.

  She was screwed. Scared. And probably about to be fired. Maybe he’d have to find some reason other than her throwing his ass in the pool, but it was just a matter of time. Her career at FCGH was toast. Jillian was so screwed.

  She grabbed Ari’s hand and pulled her out of the path of the dripping jerk. They booked it by Lacy and that jerk’s brother. Jillian shot a pointed look at her friend, and within seconds Lacy was at their side.

  The three of them returned to the ballroom together.

  “You are so toast, Jilly,” Lacy said. “He’s not going to forget this and I bet he’s vindictive.”

  “He’ll just have to be. What’s he going to do, fire me? If he does, I’ll just go into private nursing or something. Houghton’s offered me a job with his company already. All I have to do is make certain his workers don’t have the sniffles now and then. Be there if they have health concerns. A perk of working for Barratt-Handley—and with two times the pay as FCGH, and much better benefits. I should just take him up on it and be done with Rafael Holden-Deane forever. Or there’s always County Gen.”

  “It’s something to consider,” Lacy said. “But only if you stay this side of the Mexican border. No working for Houghton’s companies down there. I’d miss you too much.”

  “Can always count on my friends. When Holden-Deane roasts me at the hospital, you’ll put out the flames?”

  “Of course. I’m always at your back.”

  Ari was quiet, but Jillian got it. It was the first time she had met the jerk. It was bound to scare Ari, who was quiet and non-confrontational. There was no way in hell Jillian was going to sit back and ever watch Rafael Holden-Deane bully her best friend. Ever.

  She made a point of ignoring him whenever he came close for the rest of the evening.

  But she could feel him staring at her.

  Waiting.

  Plotting against her.

  17

  She’d pushed him in the pool. Rafe had never been treated that way by anyone, let alone a woman. He watched Travis stalk off, no doubt headed for Dr. McGareth, and he contemplated what he needed to do next. What he wanted to do was pick the little witch up and toss her headfirst into the deep end. Then watch her sink.

  Instead, he waited. And waited. He avoided the questions of why he was sitting there drenched. Maybe it was his attitude that kept others away, or the fact that it was getting late. The evening began to wind down.

  He just watched her, planned.

  When it was mostly just her family near her, and those two damned friends of hers, that’s when he acted. It was a simple matter of grabbing an ice bucket, three-quarters full of melted ice, from the nearest table.

  His brothers had made their way back to the same table, and sat speaking with his cousins. Perfect. He wanted this to be as visible as possible.

  Make it absolutely clear where things stood. For everyone. Rafe had a point to prove to that woman.

  His brothers and cousins looked up when he walked closer. Elliot spoke from his seat next to his pretty wife. “Rafe? Accident at the pool?”

  “I was assaulted at the pool.”

  “Want to file a report?” Elliot was trying to bite back a laugh. No doubt he knew exactly how Rafe had ended up drenched.

  “No. I’m more of an eye-for-an-eye, tooth-for-a-tooth kind of man.”

  They were all looking right at him. Especially her with those demon eyes of hers. Those eyes that were just daring him to...

  Rafe dumped the bucket of mostly melted ice right over her red head. Her white dress immediately clung to her body and she shrieked from the cold shock.

  Rafe was a gentleman, though.

  He draped his ruined tuxedo jacket around her thin shoulders to preserve her modesty as the white silk immediately became transparent. He didn’t look. That wasn’t his point.

  The rest of her family gasped and jumped to their feet. His yelled his name in shock.

  Well, Marcus did. Travis just laughed like a damned lunatic, along with his cousin Chance.

  Rafe held up a hand before some of them pounded him into the marble floor.

  “The little she-devil deserved it.” He looked down at the drowned rat in front of him. Red clumps of hair fell over the shoulders of his tuxedo jacket. Big honey-brown eyes just stared right up at him. “You are an uncivilized demon who should not be let out amongst society. I’ll see you at work; in fact, I’m looking forward to it. And I’m sending you the bill for the tux. Goodbye, baby. I’ll see you when you get back to FCGH. I cannot wait…”

  18

  “I think that was the craziest thing you have ever done,” Lacy said. “And I think he just declared war.”

  “I’m going to talk to Houghton. I don’t think I’m going to be working at FCGH too much longer.” Jillian pulled the ruined white silk over her head. It would take her a
while, but she was going to pay Mel back for the dress that jerk had ruined.

  She winced. She bet the tux he’d been wearing cost more than the dress, and technically, she had ruined that, too. It had been an impulse, and she regretted it. Mostly.

  He had been a total jerk to Ari, though. He deserved it. But maybe she’d overreacted. Just a little.

  He had almost made Ari cry. Seeing her friend that nervous had gone straight through her.

  Lacy was right; she and Holden-Deane had just declared war. And the last volley had been his.

  “So...what am I going to do now?”

  “Get through your next shift, and hide whenever you see him coming. I have a few places you can try.”

  “Thanks. Your help is much appreciated.”

  * * *

  Jillian was greeted by that stupid tabloid The Snotty Garlic when she finally made it back to FCGH a few days after the benefit. She’d taken a few vacation days to help Ari and Mel with the post-benefit needs.

  But it was time she faced the devil and paid the fee for what she’d done.

  Wanda met her with the article—which her family had already shown her repeatedly, damn them—and the notice that she’d been switched to thirds from seconds, starting the following night. “You poked the bear, baby. Now he’s all growly. Lacy’s been bitten a few dozen times since the ball. Apparently he can’t tell the difference between the two of you yet.”

  “I didn’t mean to get her into his path.” She’d have to find Lacy and apologize. She hadn’t talked to her friend in a few days.

  “She told him off, and things have evened out for her. But you...what did you do?”

  “Just forced him to cool off the fast way. In Houghton’s pool.” She’d spent days thinking of what had happened. She regretted parts of it, but she’d probably do it all over again in the same situation.

  Ari hadn’t deserved Rafael Holden-Deane being an ass to her. And that was exactly what he’d been gearing up toward. She’d certainly recognized the signs by now. Especially the night of that banquet. It had meant too much to her friend. For a while Jillian had been afraid she’d ruined the evening for Ari.

  Until Ari had burst out into giggles over how he’d looked when he’d hit the water. She and Lacy had spent the rest of the evening cracking jokes at Holden-Deane’s expense.

  They’d changed into pajamas and had Houghton’s staff send up hot chocolate and s’mores and popcorn. They’d eventually been joined by Mel and Syd, who’d wanted the entire scoop on Rafael Holden-Deane. The rest of the evening had been far more enjoyable.

  But that was done, and it was time to face the beast in his own lair.

  19

  So much for seconds. Wanda called her the night before she was supposed to clock in to tell her the COM had made a last minute schedule change.

  He wanted her switched to the later day shift. Immediately. Which meant she was going to be working eight-to-eight each day for the next while.

  The same as Lacy.

  At least there was that.

  Now she just had to deal with him popping into the ER whenever he wanted. Watching her every move.

  She liked thirds so much better. Damn him. He was having fun messing with her and she knew it.

  What was he going to do to her next?

  * * *

  She did manage to avoid him for most of the week. But like life in general, her luck eventually ran out.

  At a really, really bad time.

  For the first time ever, the COM took a patient at intake. It was Jillian and Lacy’s bad luck that it was a traumatized young girl who had been sexually assaulted by her foster father.

  Jillian looked at Lacy, and knew this case was going to trigger Lacy. Her friend had confided before that it had come damned close to the same thing happening to her when she’d been twelve.

  But Holden-Deane surprised her when he spoke with the girl, when he called her and Lacy to the trauma bay, when he realized he and every other male in the ER were just frightening the girl. This one was technically a treat and street—they weren’t admitting her—but the situation was going to be far more complicated than that.

  The girl was so alone.

  Just like Lacy had once been.

  Jillian shivered. She hated the knowledge that her friend had been that alone almost her whole life.

  No more. Lacy would always have Jillian.

  Dr. Holden-Deane leaned down and whispered in Jillian’s ear. “I think it might be best if someone who understands trauma helps her. Someone female.”

  Jillian looked into his dark eyes and her thoughts immediately went to his sister. “W4HAV would take her. At least until her brother can speak about getting her from social services. They have temporary headquarters set up at Barratt-Handley’s main campus.” The brother was twenty-six and hadn’t known his sister was being harmed; he’d lived in another part of the state.

  The brother’s pain, the guilt he felt, was just as equally hard to miss.

  “Call them in, then. She’ll need help. And I think he will, too. A man’s failure to protect his sister is hard to heal from.”

  There was remembered pain. “Like you?”

  She’d overstepped, but the words had slipped out.

  “Yes. Like me. Sara was like my sister, too.” He continued to speak, but she doubted she had his full attention. “I’ll talk to him. See what I can do.”

  “And Lacy and I will help her.”

  20

  After the W4HAV social worker on staff at that time at night arrived to take over the next steps for the patient, Jillian filled out the necessary forms on her tablet and waited. Ari had arrived with the social worker. She was hanging around until Lacy and Jillian were off the clock.

  The plans were to grab some popcorn and a movie and stop off to buy the underlayment for Lacy’s floor. Jillian and Ari were determined to help her get her ranch in better shape. It wasn’t exactly unlivable, but Lacy had plywood floors in two-thirds of the house. Lacy was still paying on med school loans and she’d nearly bankrupted herself to buy her former family home in the first place.

  Tonight they’d work on Lacy’s place then veg out in front of a movie until they forgot that girl’s pain.

  That had been the plan; until Holden-Deane demanded her attention.

  She meekly followed him into the trauma bay when he finished with Lacy. She couldn’t deal with more Rage Old-&-Mean tonight.

  He spoke first. “I wanted to apologize.”

  Jillian wasn’t certain she’d heard him right. He wasn’t the type to apologize to anyone for anything. She knew that.

  But the last two hours had been hard ones. For all of them.

  She’d watched him hold the girl’s brother for a few moments, talking the entire time.

  There might just be a good doctor somewhere in that reptilian giant exterior. One with a heart. Well, with everyone except her, Ari, and Lacy, that was.

  “For?”

  “Making the comments about your reading ability last week. It was way out of line.”

  “Think you’re the first? Nope. I don’t read all that well. Yes, I do have both dyslexia and dysgraphia. It’s why I don’t handle the board in the nurse’s station. No one would be able to read what I wrote up there. I doubt I even would. It’s why I have to use the tablet exclusively. I don’t even sign my name on hospital documents—my handwriting is worse than any doctor’s I’ve ever seen. I enter everything on my tablet, it spell checks itself, and I send to the printer. And a physician and the charge nurse both sign off. Presto. FCGH is in the clear. It covers all our asses. I know the risks my conditions pose in this field. I’m very aware of my limitations. I’m not stupid, Holden-Deane. I’m a damned fine nurse.”

  College and nursing school had been a struggle, as had high school and all before that. Even with the private tutors first her parents and then she herself had scrimped to pay for. She’d been lucky in that her parents had identified the two learning disabilities
early on. And had been aggressive in finding ways to help her.

  The dyslexia and its impact on her ability to read had been bad enough, add in the second, more severe diagnosis of dysgraphia and its impact on her handwriting, and she’d been facing a double struggle.

  But her family had helped her through.

  It had also helped to have Brynna in the same grade level. Her parents had delayed Brynna’s entry into kindergarten a year, putting her and Brynna in the same level. Brynna, an early reader, had read to Jillian for years to make sure she knew the material.

  Brynna had gotten her through those early years, and Jillian knew it. Just like she’d guided her sister socially.

  “I never meant to imply you were. Hot-headed, impulsive, a pain in my ass, but not stupid. Far from it. You’re not the first dyslexic I’ve seen, Jillian. Or dysgraphic. Far from it. I’m just sorry I said those idiotic things.”

  She studied his dark eyes for a moment, trying to determine if he was patronizing her.

  He was as clever as a rattlesnake, and would do things just to disconcert her, she had no doubt. But he seemed sincere this time. “Apology accepted. Anything else? I kind of have plans for tonight. Forgetting this place is number one on the agenda.”

  “Nothing else. And Jillian? I’ll see you when you return.” There was a wealth of meaning, and threat, in his words. She fought a small shiver when he looked at her and smiled a cold smile.

  A gorgeous smile, but cold. Calculating. Plotting.

  Damn him. He really churned her up sometimes. The guy had to do it on purpose.

  “Great. I’m looking forward to it.” Like she looked forward to a root canal. He stood, and not for the first time, her attention was caught by how perfectly built the big jerk was.

  His shoulders looked ridiculous in his dark blue suit. It wasn’t fair that he’d look like that and have all the charm of a cranky rabid donkey.