Wounds That Won’t Heal

by Calle J. Brookes

  Jillian took the opportunity to book it out of there before she got seriously distracted by the pretty man with a horribly rotten attitude.

  Time to forget all about Rafael Holden-Deane, most recent Chief of Medicine at Finley Creek General.

  Tomorrow was soon enough to deal with him again.

  21

  They stopped for take-out and more underlayment for Lacy’s new hallway floor. After that, it was a matter of heading in the direction of Value, Texas. Lacy was technically outside of Finley Creek County, into Barratt County, but still considered herself a resident of the larger Finley Creek area. It didn’t matter to Jillian. Lacy’s ranch, even with all its unique foibles, was their place to hang out. To be themselves away from the pressure of FCGH, and of her family.

  Love them as she did, being related to Houghton Barratt and Chance Marshall was sometimes more than she could handle. They were just so intense sometimes, and they brought with them Marcus Deane and Elliot.

  Two other high-intensity men. Combine them with the doctors she worked with and the COM and she just needed a place to decompress.

  Jillian drove, forcing herself to keep to the speed limit. She’d always loved pushing the envelope in her car. Just a little. Not enough to get a ticket, but enough to really feel what she was doing.

  They were singing and for a moment she wished they’d put the top down. They hadn’t on the off chance the underlayment—currently crammed around Ari in the backseat—flew out. She had to settle for cranking up the radio and blasting out the song at the top of her lungs.

  When the truck lights came up behind her, she almost overcorrected.

  The driver pulled up alongside her, and Jillian knew what was going to happen.

  Only seconds before he sent them careening off the road.

  Jillian’s scream echoed her friends’ as the three of them went spinning.

  Pain crashed through her skull when she slammed into the side window, then intensified when the percussion of the BMW hitting the tree rocked her again.

  And she could still see the truck coming.

  22

  Ari fought to catch her breath. She threw the underlayment off of her and reached between the front seats.

  Jillian was moving. Thank God, Jillian was moving.

  But Lacy wasn’t. “Lacy! Lacy? Wake up. Lacy!”

  Jillian somehow forced Lacy to wake up and get out of the car. Ari followed as quickly as she could, fighting tears and fear and everything else in that moment.

  They got Lacy out of the car; Ari wouldn’t let the terror of how badly her friend was hurt keep her from moving. They had to get away.

  The man who had hit them was coming after them, and they all three knew it.

  She heard something behind them as they ran. It took her a moment to identify the sound.

  Gun.

  Ari kept going.

  Fire shot across her forehead, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Lacy insisted they keep going to Travis’ ranch. Ari just kept going, praying that Travis’ brother would somehow magically appear there with a medical bag or something. Anything to help Lacy.

  Ari clung to the hope that he’d be there, that they’d get to him in time. Lacy felt that hope; it was in her words.

  The man kept shooting. Jillian grabbed Lacy’s gun. She forced Ari and Lacy to keep running.

  Jillian stopped. And fired back.

  Ari fought another scream as Jillian blocked her and Lacy’s bodies with her own.

  When Jillian went down she wanted to run back to her friend, but Lacy wouldn’t let her.

  And then Jillian was there.

  They finally made it to Travis’ ranch and all she could think was that he meant safety.

  He met them on the porch, with a rifle in his hands, and a strength she needed to see.

  Men were yelling from somewhere and it took a moment for her to recognize his ranch hands.

  Thank God, they weren’t alone.

  Ari had never been happier to see men with guns in her life. Travis lifted her up on the porch and pushed her toward the door to his house.

  She stumbled inside, almost tripping over the little blue tick hound puppy. She scooped him up almost without thought, cuddling him close, while Travis carried Jillian inside.

  How badly had Jillian been hit?

  Ari forced herself to keep everything together. Her friends didn’t need her falling apart now.

  23

  Allen was just about to leave for the day when Wanda came barreling into the surgical trauma ward. She grabbed sterile gowns and tossed one at him. “Start dancing. They’re coming up now.” She tied him into the gown quickly.

  “What’s going on?” He hadn’t gotten any heads up about anything more unusual than a kid’s broken arm in the last two hours.

  “Jillian and Lacy. MVA and GSW.”

  Motor Vehicle Accident. Gunshot Wound. Fear shot straight through him when he thought of the two women he cared a great deal about. Thought about the damage those two could have faced in the hour since he’d seen them last. “What?”

  The head ER nurse, who’d once worked in Allen’s department and still filled in when necessary, nodded. “I’m not sure of the details, but I need to be up here to help. It’s my girls.”

  Allen ignored how her voice shook there at the end. Wanda and her wife didn’t have any children—and she did try to coddle Jillian and Lacy and a few of the younger staff members at times.

  Allen hurriedly prepped. He didn’t know which woman would end up on his table, but he had to focus. To forget the sight of big brown eyes and a soft mouth smiling at him. To forget Lacy’s snarking at him just a few hours earlier and telling him he needed to get laid.

  He’d asked her if she was offering; a breach of protocol, of course, but she had just laughed. Such a beautiful laugh. Jillian and Lacy and their friend singing so beautifully at the benefit that night at Barratt’s echoed through his head, his heart.

  Allen ruthlessly forced all of that away as he prepped to do what he had to do.

  “Wanda? Their friend Ariella was supposed to be with them tonight.” She would have been with them. He didn’t doubt it. Was that sweet, beautiful woman dead? He’d always enjoyed watching her. She reminded him of his Jess, with those big dark eyes, the pale skin, and the silky dark hair.

  “She’s downstairs.” For a moment he thought she meant the morgue, but Wanda continued. “Cracked ribs and a concussion. Holden-Deane’s taking their care personally. He’s put Nikki on Ariella.”

  Surprising, that. Holden-Deane and the two women most definitely did not get along. Everyone knew that. Until Allen recalled how Rafe’s younger brother had been all over Lacy at the benefit. Of course Rafe would; Deanes would do anything for their brothers. They always had.

  The doors to the ward burst open and the first gurney rolled in, Virat at the helm. Allen saw the blonde hair of one of the few friends he actually trusted.

  Virat already had a team in waiting. Allen nodded at the other surgeon. Virat would take Lacy. She’d be in excellent hands.

  Allen would wait for Jillian.

  24

  Rafe couldn’t help himself. He peered in at Jillian and Lacy for what had to be the fiftieth time since he’d arrived at the hospital at eight that morning. He’d almost found an excuse to stay the entire night in his office to be there if they needed him and he knew that was stupid.

  They weren’t his responsibility beyond what he had already done for them as a physician and their boss.

  And Ariella’s brother.

  She was his next stop. He needed to check on her for himself. Not only because he couldn’t fight the pull, but because Travis had asked him to when he’d caught him in the lobby.

  His brothers had just been leaving; Marcus had finally persuaded Travis to leave Lacy McGareth’s side long enough to shower. Travis hadn’t been too thrilled with it, but Marcus could be damned relentless when necessary. Rafe hadn’t even known his older brother was
back in town. Unless someone had called Marcus to let him know what had happened?

  Rafe winced. He probably should have done that himself.

  Rafe had had to promise to check on the women himself in order to help Marcus move Travis along.

  When he walked into Room 404, Ariella was sitting on the edge of the bed with Logan Lanning, of all people, hovering near her.

  The sight of the man was so unexpected, Rafe stopped short. Lanning had had nothing to do with Ariella’s care—he shouldn’t be there.

  Lanning lingered with an excuse of wanting to just check on her after everything she’d been through, then finally left.

  Leaving Rafe completely alone with his younger sister for the first time. He stared at her awkwardly, once again struck by how delicate she looked. She barely weighed one-ten, according to her chart. She actually weighed less than her two shorter friends.

  Skinny, model-thin. Beautiful. All big dark eyes and pale skin. Frail. Far more frail than he ever would have expected. Rafe hadn’t ever been frail in his life. Then again, they’d obviously had different fathers. Rafe’s had most likely been Latino. Ariella’s wasn’t. “Ariella.”

  “R-Rafe.” She stuttered again, making him feel like an ogre. They hadn’t gotten off to a good start, and he knew it.

  Knew it was his fault, too. “How are you today?”

  Her chin rose and she crossed her arms over her narrow chest. She shifted on the bed, her entire pose defensive. “I’m ok. I have a headache and my ribs hurt, but I’m fine. When are you letting me out of here?”

  He’d made it absolutely clear to her physician that she was to be released only after he’d approved the discharge. No one had asked why, so consumed with Lacy and Jillian’s care that his sister had almost been overlooked. Or at least it had seemed that way to him. Quiet Ariella; how often was she overlooked when with Lacy and Jillian? He didn’t like that thought.

  He had a responsibility to her, and he knew it. No matter how much he didn’t like the idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. Far from it. She seemed...sweet. Shy and kind were his first thoughts whenever he saw her. She didn’t deserve his enmity. Hell, she didn’t even deserve him as a brother. “In a bit. Do you have a ride home yet?”

  Lanning had mentioned it, of all things. Rafe needed to know she was going someplace she would be safe. Cared for and loved. Just because.

  “I’m not going home. I’m going over there. I’m going to sit with them until they wake up.” She pointed to the wall separating them from Room 403. “We need...to be together. I need to be there when they wake up this morning.”

  “Ok. Why? Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t go home and rest.”

  “Because I love them, and they love me.” She met his eyes straight on, her chin lifted stubbornly.

  Simple. Truthful. Hard to argue. “I don’t want you overdoing it. You’re to stay in the chair. If you need anything, you ring the nurses’ station. If I catch you doing more than just resting and watching those two breathe, I’m discharging you and barring you from the hospital. And calling Houghton Barratt himself to come get you.” The guy had already been making noises about taking all three of them back to his castle and keeping them there until they were healed.

  Rafe thought that sounded like a damned good idea.

  She stared at him for a long moment, making him feel like a bug pinned to a wall. “Why do you care so much about what happens to me?”

  Well. He hadn’t expected such bluntness. Not from her. “Excuse me? Why wouldn’t I?”

  “It’s obvious you don’t like me, even though you don’t know me. Simply because of genetics. So why are you acting like you care? I didn’t ask you to.”

  “Didn’t you?” The words were brave and strong, but he could see how much she was shaking. Damn, this little sister he didn’t want was shy, wasn’t she? Non-confrontational. Some of the anger he felt toward her for coming into his life started to lessen. This girl didn’t want anything from him at all. That was so easy to see. “You sent the letter. You dredged it all up again.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t ever mean to upset you. I know...being her child isn’t easy. I’m so sorry I messed up your life.”

  Rafe snorted at that. He wrapped his hand around his sister’s arm, checking her pulse out of habit. It raced against his fingers. She might look calm, but she wasn’t inside. “My life has been messed up long before you were even born because of that woman. You just made me remember it, that’s all. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone.”

  “You didn’t.” He stared at her for a moment longer, then deliberately looked away. “I don’t want a sister or another brother or any other connection to my birth mother. But that doesn’t mean you and I can’t get along when we do meet up with each other. And I have a feeling we will from time to time. So truce?”

  “Truce. We’ll treat each other just like anyone else. And if I ever need a kidney, I’ll ask one of my other brothers. I have five, plus my—our—sister; I don’t need another.”

  And he didn’t need a sister who would make him need to protect her. Rafe had a feeling this one would do exactly that. If he let her. “Good. Now. Get next door. Sit. Wait for the two of them to wake up, then the three of you can plot to throw me in a pool again or something. No doubt Jillian would enjoy that. I’m sure she needs more ideas. I think she’s the one who glued my office door shut the other day.”

  “I doubt it. She’s more subtle than that.”

  Rafe watched as the sister he didn’t want slipped out the door, a small bag thrown over her shoulder. And he wondered just what he was supposed to do with her next.

  It might have sounded easy, agreeing to keep their distance, but he had his doubts.

  It was so damned hard to keep himself from caring.

  25

  When Jillian woke, Ari was sound asleep in a chair between her and Lacy’s beds and Rafael Holden-Deane was leaning over her. He wrapped a big hand around the rail of her bed and peered down at her from those demon-dark eyes of his. “Well, you’re awake. We’ve been waiting.”

  “We?”

  “McGareth was awake for an hour or so. But she’s back under. Apparently pain meds really knock her for a loop. You should hear some of the things she said to Travis a while ago. My cheeks are permanently red, thanks to the two of them.”

  “Yes. They do. She’s the same way when she’s had a single beer. No filter at all, that woman. And she never remembers. I’m going to record her one day. It’s entertaining,” Jillian tried to shift in the bed, but the bandages holding her leg in place prevented it. “Help me sit up, please.”

  She had to admit the hands he put on her were gentle. “How’s that?”

  He’d lifted her right off the mattress and adjusted her like she weighed next to nothing. “Much better. So what’s the damage?”

  “You’ll live. Indirect injury caused us some concern. We typed and crossed, filled you right back up.”

  “Not me. Lacy and Ari.” She tried not to look at her only source of information like he was a doofus, but...she could tell what had happened to herself just fine. She could move everything, feel everything and she hadn’t lost too much blood. If she had, they’d apparently put it right back in.

  “Lacy suffered the most damage, with a compound fracture of her left arm and some internal bruising. We were concerned for her spleen but she managed to keep it. She does have a nasty concussion, but her GCS was a twelve a little while ago, even under sedation.” He narrowed a look at her. “Then you. Ariella had basically scratches and a few broken ribs.”

  “We put her in the back with the plastic rolls of underlayment. Lacy called dibs on the passenger seat. She always does. Ari doesn’t ever argue. Lacy was on the side that slammed into that tree.”

  “And the driver slammed into your side. You’re lucky. All three of you.” He surprised her when he took a blanket out of the cabinet and spread
it over Ariella, almost without thinking. Then he settled down on the mattress near Jillian’s feet. “Chance mentioned arrests.”

  “I remember talking to Elliot last night. He works fast.”

  “Yes, he does. I’m sorry your evening turned so nasty last night. It wasn’t all that great to start out, either.”

  “Yeah. That seems to keep happening to us a lot over the last eight months. I’m ready for it to stop.” She leaned back against the pillow, almost forgetting for a moment that the man leaning over her was Rafael Holden-Deane. Like him or not, he was a hell of a lot safer to deal with than a madman on the highway trying to kill them. “Does it ever stop?”

  He was silent for a moment. “I saw some shit in Africa that made it clear that it doesn’t. All you can do it keep the ones you love close. It’s why I came home. For my brothers. I was hurt in a bombing in Djibouti. I hadn’t been out of the hospital a week before I learned Travis had been sideswiped in a taxi in Tokyo. I made the decision on the flight to get him that it was time I returned home. Where I belonged. With the ones who’d give a damn if I was hurt.”

  “Bryn was impaled when the TSP was bombed. I watched a man who’d been flirting with Lacy nearly get blown open when Houghton’s limo was hit. Ten seconds later and Lacy and I would have been in that limo, two of my sisters right after us. I’m not so sure evil is still there in Africa. I think it’s finding its way to Finley Creek.”

  “I think it’s been here for a while now.” Jillian listened as he listed the injuries Lacy had sustained and then her own wounds. And he ended with what she suspected were Ariella’s. “The laceration on her forehead most likely came from—”

  “A bullet. I know. Does she?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone. That doesn’t mean someone else hasn’t. Why?”