Wounds That Won’t Heal

by Calle J. Brookes

  Perhaps she wasn't being charitable. She'd seen him be more than compassionate with patients, with children, with Brynna, and with Lacy. He had been kind to her when she was in the hospital, too. "Thank you again for the ride."

  "It's not exactly out of my way, Jillian. Don't worry, you're not obligated to me with any favors in return."

  "I was just saying thank you. Truce over already?"

  "I didn't mean it that way. Maybe we are both a little bit too defensive? We have to find a way to get along. I'd hate us to cause strife for Travis and Lacy. I think that they’ve had enough of that."

  "Yes, they have."

  There wasn't anything Jillian wouldn't do for her best friends. If that meant getting along with Rafe, then she was going to try her best to do just that. Her mother and father had raised her right. Jillian knew how to behave herself. Especially with her boss. She would just hold her tongue, and go on.

  Jillian could never remember being this angry with a man before.

  Come to think of it, though, it seemed like her life had been one big blur of anger since the night Albright had almost killed her. Since the moment Brynna had disappeared into the woods. All of it.

  Anger had guided her since Halloween, at least.

  Jillian bit back unexpected tears.

  Maybe she was the source of the rage. Maybe everything that had happened was finally welling up within her and threatening to spill over. Maybe this last bit of trouble with Dr. Lanning, with Lacy being threatened, had broken it all free again? Jillian didn't know.

  That's what she thought about as he drove the miles that separated their homes from the hospital.

  * * *

  Rafe fought the urge to stare at his passenger, instead of the road ahead of him. It was a moderately busy road, even this time of night. He had to content himself with little glances at the redhead staring so pensively out the window. "Something on your mind?"

  He couldn't deal with the silence too much longer.

  "Why do you think the two of us snap at each other all the time?"

  That was not something he was expecting. But he should have; Jillian would be the type to confront things, wouldn’t she? "I don't know. Getting off to the wrong foot, possibly? Why?"

  "I'm not like this with other people; just you." He didn’t miss the pain or confusion.

  "To be honest, I'm not sure if I should be proud of that or not?"

  "I'm serious. I've never argued with someone the way I have you. Never been as angry with someone as I have been you."

  "Do you have any ideas why?" One thing he had learned about the Becks in general, and this one in particular, was that when something was on their minds they were going to talk about it. Straight shooter, that's what she was. Rafe had spent too much of his life with parents that skirted around important issues for that not to matter to him. That was one of the things that he respected about Jillian Beck.

  "Anger."

  "Excuse me?"

  She straightened in the seat and turned to him, fire in her movements. "I'm angry. With you, and… Everything. With Lanning, with that damned Albright, all of it. It seems like I have been angry for months now."

  "You feel like you have good reason?" If there was something Jillian Beck wanted him to know about her she damned well would have told him.

  "I don't know. Since Halloween, one of my sisters has been impaled, blown up, held hostage, on the run from killers, the other one has been shot at, ran off the road, abducted, forcibly married—oh, and did I mention that we were all blown up again? It was the first time Lacy broke her arm. I flew eight feet through the air; broke my ribs and cracked open my head. Lacy was beaten up, Ari was shot. Oh yeah, and in the last month I've been shot. My best friend has been shot. Lacy, Ari, and I are going three-for-three on matching bullet holes, you know? It hasn't exactly been our year. And I spent weeks focused on getting my family through all that. Focusing on them, and they are finally happy again. But I’m not. All I feel is confused and angry. And you...just make me angrier and angrier."

  "It's over now, baby. Maybe it's just now hitting you? Hell yes, you have every right to be angry. No one ever said differently."

  "You sure about that?"

  "If they have, then they’re idiots. So go ahead… Be as angry at me as you want if it helps. I understand anger. Say whatever you want. Hell, knock me into another pool. I'm not sure why I'm such a good target, but I have been an ass to you, and I'm sorry.”

  55

  Jillian didn't know where the words were coming from, or why they were coming with him. She just knew that they were. Maybe it was because with him she did feel safe. Well, as safe as she could be. If she couldn’t trust a man she’d known since she was a toddler, or a man related to her brother-in-law, or a man who would be related to her best friend, soon, then who could she trust?

  It gave her a lot to think about.

  “I didn't realize you had been through so much. Part of it, but not the full details. I'm sorry you went through that. Those videos at the banquet were pretty informative."

  "He was hurting me. His hands, the knife. It was right here.” She touched her neck as the words just poured out. “I thought he was going to kill me and just leave me there. We went around the corner—he was dragging me by the hair and I was fighting him. I didn’t know if Ari was dead. I knew Lacy was with her, but how many GSWs do we see each week in the ER? Somehow your brother was there. All I could focus on was Marcus’ eyes, then. They were the same green as Elliot’s and Chance’s, and that gave me a small bit of hope, which I knew was stupid. I knew they would be coming for me. I was so afraid. He wanted to kill your brother. The anger and rage he had—I could feel it running through him. He was so angry that Marcus was there, that he’d interrupted him. Marcus wouldn’t go away when Albright ordered him to. Marcus told him he’d have to kill Marcus first before Marcus would let him hurt me. I haven’t forgotten that. Marcus’ stalling him saved my life, Rafe. Albright was dragging me to his hotel room. I know what he was planning to do. What he wanted from me…He’d already touched me and told me what he intended." She would never forget. Simply never forget that day. But this was the first time she’d ever spoken to someone else about it. Someone who had not been there that day.

  Strange that it would be Rafael Holden-Deane.

  "You can't forget it, can you? You still close your eyes and you see it. That's the way it is with trauma; we see it over and over and over again. It haunts us. It never heals, Jillian. I've been trying for years. Hell, my own wounds are still raw. I just keep reminding myself that eventually it won't hurt quite as much. Even though I know that's a lie. I'm sorry for the things I've said to you. And to Ariella. I haven't meant to be an ogre. To you, or to her. Hell, the first time I snapped at her I felt like I'd crushed a butterfly. Or a ladybug. Maybe we should start over? Start at the very beginning. What do you say?”

  "It can't hurt to try. Can it? And I'm sorry. For some reason, you set me off. I haven't yet figured why. I'm not sure that I ever will.”

  * * *

  Rafe had a few suspicions. He was attracted to this woman. And he didn't doubt that she was attracted to him as well. But everything she had been through had put a wall up in front of her. The anger she had mentioned. He understood it.

  The things he had seen in the last four years, the suffering, the hurting, the inhumanity, the torture man was capable of inflicting upon others… It made him damned angry, too. Until he had no choice but to come home, to find a way for his own wounds to heal.

  He'd like to think they were starting to.

  He noticed something, lately. More nights than not he was falling asleep with thoughts of Jillian Beck in his head, instead of nightmares of Africa in his dreams. That had to mean something. What, he didn't know yet. But he wanted to find out.

  He just turned to glance at her when something slammed into the back of his Mercedes and sent them careening.

  Jillian’s terrified scream echoed around him.<
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  56

  Rafe had spent the last three years driving a car—and a few other things—in Africa. He knew how to handle the wheel. He was able to maneuver the Mercedes to the side of the road. Rafe turned and looked at his companion. He let out a low curse before he could stop himself.

  She was ghost white and shaking. Hell, how could anyone blame her? This was the second time in a month she'd been run off the road in a car at night.

  "Jilly—" It was the first time the diminutive form of her name had slipped out. "Jillian, baby, we’re safe. It's okay. Just a little fender bender. Somebody driving too fast."

  She had her arms wrapped around herself. But the trembling… He was afraid she was going to shake herself into pieces.

  The front seat of a Mercedes wasn't exactly the place for it but Rafe unhooked his seatbelt and reached for her. He unlatched her seatbelt. One large hand went under her braid. He cupped her head, and pulled her closer.

  She didn't fight him, which told him so much. Jillian had been fighting him since the moment they had met again as adults. He held her close until the shaking slowed. Until the small hand fisted on his shirt relaxed and she took several deep breaths.

  "I'm okay. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to freak out like that. To fall apart like a great big wimp."

  He heard the injured pride and the embarrassment in her tone.

  Rafe said nothing. He understood pride. She settled back in her seat, and he flipped on the interior light. The sight of tear tracks down her pale cheeks stabbed him in the gut. He masked his response by looking out the window. "Stay here, I'm going to go check the damage. If it's not too bad, I'll just call the insurance company once I get home. Or in the morning."

  "I'm going with you." Her hand was already on the door. Rafe didn't say anything, just opened his own. He met her at the rear of the car and put one hand on her shoulder, much as he had seen Jacobson do in the cafeteria just that afternoon. Traffic was still whizzing by them; in the dark, he wasn't taking any chances with her. He pulled his cell phone free, and pointed the light at the rear of his vehicle. It was dented, but not significantly. He’d have to get it fixed, eventually. At the moment his main concern was Jillian. Damn it, he hated seeing her scared. This woman flat out made him feel more than any other woman had ever had. "Get back in. I'll get you home. I'll take care of this later this week."

  "At least it’s not too bad,” she said, shivering in the light rain. "Somebody just driving like an idiot. We see enough of that every day."

  "Yes. Come on, back inside.” He held out a hand to her. She took it. “Let's just get you home."

  Safe, where she belonged.

  57

  Jillian had the next day off. She made a vow to enjoy it, too. Her sister Carrie and her family were on their way down from St. Louis. Jillian was going to ensure that the guest rooms were ready. After that, she had to prep for the cook-out her father wanted for that evening.

  Her father loved nothing more than having all five of his children together and celebrating. Jillian didn't mind it, either. Carrie's family wasn't coming alone. Paige, Ari’s sister, and her family were coming as well.

  They would be taking Simon home with them when they returned to St. Louis. If she wasn't mistaken, she’d heard rumors that Luc might just join them. It wouldn't surprise Jillian if they didn't all arrive in Luc's private jet. Sometimes being connected to the wealthiest man in St. Louis—who happened to be her brother-in-law Houghton's close friend—had its perks. It did mean that she got to see her family quite often.

  If Houghton's father hadn't taken Carrie to Oklahoma and kept her safe they would've lost Carrie forever.

  Jillian was just glad she had the opportunity to know her sister now. They might not ever be close, but she and Carrie were still sisters, and that mattered in so many ways.

  "Hey Jilly-Bean," Chance said as he came into the back door of the kitchen. “I heard you had some excitement last night. You okay?"

  Chance cuddled baby Sara Anne close. Jillian immediately held out her arms. There were only two little girls in the world who were as gorgeous as their mothers—Brynna’s Sara Anne and Carrie’s Maddie. Chance handed the baby over like a good brother-in-law.

  "It was just a little fender bender, Chance. I'm okay and so is ...Rafe."

  She wasn't going to think about it, not today. Today was for her family.

  "About Rafe… Listen, I need your opinion. I know how he feels about his biological family. And you have to understand, his parents—his adoptive parents—they made no secret of the fact that he was their second choice after Marcus was born. They didn’t think they could have another kid, so when they had Travis they sort of pushed Rafe aside. They hurt him far more than they should have. Rafe and I haven't always gotten along, but the way my aunt and uncle treated him was flat out wrong. Add in what I know about his biological family now, and I can understand why he's leery of making that connection. And I don’t like the idea of him sitting over there all alone. But I also don't know how to get him over here knowing the biological family he wants nothing to do with will be here soon. Do you have any ideas?"

  Jillian looked at her brother-in-law, then at the baby down her arms. It was amazing how much she resembled Brynna. Even the fuzzy hair on top of her head already had an orange tint to it. She'd expected the baby would've gotten Chance’s almost black hair. But Sara Anne hadn't. Genetics could influence everything.

  Genetics.

  Genetics would tell, wouldn't they? And Rafael Holden-Deane shared damned fine genetics with some of the best people Jillian knew. Whether she liked him or not, they all deserved to figure it out for themselves. She handed her favorite orange-haired newborn back to Chance. "I'll go over there. Talk to him. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try."

  "They should be here soon. The LT jet is scheduled to land at the Barratt ranch in less than fifteen minutes. Marcus will be here in half an hour. And I'm sure Travis and Lacy are already on their way. I don’t want that cousin of mine sitting over there all alone, brooding. Rafe’s a champion brooder. We used to say he pouted a lot as kids. Comes from being younger than Elliot, Marc, and me. Everyone kept lumping him in with baby Travis.”

  “Gee, not hard to picture him pouting at all.” Jillian knew what Chance was getting at, though. “I’ll go get him. Do my best. He may stick me in a pot and boil me for dinner, though.”

  Chance smirked, then snuggled his daughter closer. “Hey, there are some things I don’t want to know about your love life, kid. Just don’t want to know.”

  “Oh, please. As if that would ever happen.”

  58

  Rafe had just come out of the shower when he heard the knocking on his front door. He had his jeans on, so he was covered. But he hadn't yet bothered with the shirt or shoes, and he still had a towel on his head. He opened the door quickly.

  There was a little red-headed she-devil on his doorstep.

  A little red-headed she-devil wearing skimpy shorts and currently staring at his naked chest. "Jillian?"

  She slowly looked up. "It is really not fair."

  "What isn't?" Had something happened? Did they need a doctor in that chaotic house of theirs? Someone was always coming or going over there—and at Chance’s. In the short time he’d been their neighbor, he’d been astounded at the sheer number of females seen in that front yard at one time or another. Even the youngest sister had a steady stream of friends in and out.

  Rafe had tried not to watch too often. To wonder what it would be like to be a part of a family like that. The way he used to be with his aunt and uncle before they were murdered. He hadn’t felt too much family connection since then.

  Except for his brothers. Travis wouldn’t let him and Marcus pull away too much. His younger brother was the real heart of their family; and now Travis was spending time over there, too. Becoming a part of the Becks.

  Rafe tried not to watch for his brother over there too often.

  "You Deane brothers are just
far too much sometimes for us poor unsuspecting females. Can you please put on a damned shirt?”

  She surprised a bark of laughter out of him. Had she looked away since he’d opened the door? Yes, she was only mid-chest on him, but still…she could look up, couldn’t she?

  A curl of heat went through him when those brown eyes turned up to finally look at his face. There was appreciation in those eyes. Jillian liked what she saw. He fought the urge to scoop her close and let her touch. And then show her more. "Like what you see?"

  "I've seen prettier. Not quite as big, but prettier. Have you met Houghton Barratt? I'm almost certain he was genetically engineered in that lab of his. And then there's Lu—well, no use beating around the bush. Your biological brother Luc is probably the prettiest man I've ever seen. You look quite a bit like him, except for the skin tone. He’s a little darker. Plus, he’s a bit on the skinny side. Anyone ever tell you you’re built like a Mack truck?"

  All trace of laughter had disappeared when she mentioned this biological brother he didn’t want or need. "All comments about my body aside, why are you here?"

  She sighed. "To be honest I'm not sure. I think I was tricked."

  "Jillian? I actually have the day off, I'd like to spend some time enjoying it. Why are you here? Just to stare at my chest? I can take the jeans off if you want. I’ll even let you touch. But only if you promise I can do the same to you. Those shorts are indecent, you know?"

  "I can’t help it. Are you real? It’s so not right that you look like this and are as cranky as you usually are. How is that even possible? Karma, laws of fate? It is so wrong.”

  She really was a little she-devil, of that he was entirely certain. Always disconcerting him.

  Well, two could play that game.

  Rafe reached out and snagged one of those small hands of hers. He put it right on the center of his chest. Covered it with his own fingers. "Feel real now? You know, if you get to touch mine, stare at mine, shouldn't I get the same in return?"