Wounds That Won’t Heal

by Calle J. Brookes

  No, he wasn't ready to let Jillian out of people’s sight. Not yet.

  Rafe finished up what he wanted to do, including taking photos of where she’d fallen and hit with his phone. Just in case.

  He walked back to the lobby to check on Jillian, and there she was, the center of attention. Wanda was hovering. Patel was shining his own light into her eyes.

  Jillian was tolerating the surgeon.

  Barely. Any minute and she’d turn grumbly at them all. Rafe almost smiled.

  Typical. Jillian was definitely a fighter. For the first time, he didn't mind.

  He went toward her, like a damned moth to a flame.

  75

  Jillian's head was going to crack open, the yolk was going to leak out and fry itself right where she sat.

  The ER's fluorescent lights were certainly bright enough to fry them.

  Wanda touched her lightly on the shoulder. "Honey, why don't you just go lie down in the break room until he comes back for you? We can handle this place. We've done it before."

  Because she was stupid and stubborn, that's why, Jillian thought. "My head hurts a little, Wanda, but I'm fine. Certainly fine enough to finish my shift."

  She might not have been able to bounce back and forth from trauma room to trauma room, but she could help out where she could. Even just working the phones would help a little. She only had ninety minutes left of her shift. She was going to finish it out.

  She had also promised that she wasn’t going anywhere without Rafe—he’d made her swear to it.

  Not something she actually liked, but it was just fact.

  There was an anger in him—anger that she had been hurt on his watch—and she knew that. His sudden protectiveness and this change between them disconcerted her more than the knock she had taken to the skull.

  She'd seen it happen too many times now to overlook the possibilities. She didn't want him feeling protective of her. Not when combined with the attraction they obviously felt for each other.

  That way meant complications.

  Complications she was not ready for. Complications she most definitely did not want. Complications she’d seen before.

  Her sisters and Lacy had found themselves in just such positions and what had happened to them was not something Jillian wanted right now.

  But her head had been hurting too much to argue with him at the moment. Having him there meant she didn't have to wait for a ride from anyone else when her shift was over. Having him there meant she got home faster. Having him there meant she didn’t have to worry about any darned thing. And that was really all she wanted.

  That and for her head to stop feeling so darned scrambled.

  * * *

  Rafe found her almost an hour later in the midst of the nurses’ station, arms folded over the back desk and sound asleep. Someone had wrapped her shoulders with a blanket, and everyone was just leaving her where she was. He looked at Wanda. "How's she doing?"

  "I have yet to see a woman as stubborn as that one. Must be the red hair, cliché or not. Refuses to admit that she's hurting. She tried, though. Drifted off about thirty minutes ago, and Allen said to just leave her for you. We finally got a handle on everything else around here. Where she sat, I don't even think anyone could really see her."

  "Don't worry about that. Anyone says anything about her, I'll deal with it." He leaned over Jillian and gently nudged her awake. She blinked up at him with those big Beck-brown eyes of hers. The power of her gaze went straight through him. He fought the urge to just scoop her up and hold her, right there in the midst of the ER. With everyone watching.

  Everyone was watching; he didn’t have to look around to see that. He knew every move he made was just fuel for the gossip mill around the hospital.

  He hated that Jillian was now involved in it.

  It was just the way it was—they’d both just have to deal.

  "Come on," he said, his voice probably more gruff than it needed to be. "Let's get you home."

  He’d already grabbed her bag out of her locker on his way down from his office. At least he’d grabbed everything he thought she would need.

  What concerned him the most was how docilely Jillian complied.

  He led her to his parking space—his Mercedes was still in the shop—and opened the door to his rental SUV for her. He tossed her bag in the backseat, and helped her up the running board into the large SUV. She didn't say anything. Rafe had to remind her to fasten her seatbelt, and she did. Then she rested her head on the passenger door and closed her eyes.

  “Allen gave me a shot of something. I’m sorry. I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open.”

  Guilt rushed him; he should have taken her home earlier. But there had been no way he could have gotten away that quickly. He said nothing to her as he drove, just letting her rest.

  She went out quickly, her breathing soft and even as he drove the minutes between the hospital and their street. Flooding and downed branches slowed the trip a little.

  He pulled into the Beck driveway and killed the engine, after being waved onto the street by the security agent on duty. The screen door was all that stood between the Becks and the outside world at the moment. There were a few extra vehicles there as well, including his brother Travis’ truck.

  Rafe cursed quietly. He’d hoped there wouldn’t be anyone there but her father...

  He should have known better.

  What he was about to do was going to be pretty damned public. Something neither of them needed.

  Rafe looked at her and he just didn't care. He grabbed her hot pink bag and slung it over one shoulder and then he rounded the hood. Because it was a larger vehicle, it was easy for him to reach her. He slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back after he freed her from the seatbelt.

  She practically rolled into his arms, limp. She was out, and probably would be for a good long while. Rafe made a mental note to call Jacobson and find out what he’d given her, and what dosage.

  Rafe shifted her to make holding her easier, and carried her up the paved walkway to her father's home.

  He made himself a vow; he was going to take her inside and dump her off on the people that cared about her and would keep a close eye on her. She’d even have a physician around—Travis was there, which meant Lacy was wandering around somewhere.

  After that, Rafe was going to head home and forget all about her for the rest of the night. Period.

  He wasn't going to think about how warm she felt his arms, how sweet she smelled, or how that red hair that one of the nurses had washed for her felt like silk across his skin.

  Nor was he going to dwell on how she had looked sprawled on the concrete floor, blood haloing around her head. No, tonight Rafe was going to forget all about Jillian Beck and what she did to him.

  76

  Ari was sitting next to Lacy when the screen door opened. She looked over and smiled.

  She’d expected it to be Jillian—she and Lacy were supposed to meet Jillian after her shift ended to go over details with Travis for Ari’s new office space.

  Rafe carried Jillian into the living room; her head snuggled up on his shoulder and she looked completely limp. Everyone stopped speaking almost immediately.

  Lacy stood and started toward them. "What the hell happened to her?"

  "She fell in the back stairwell tonight, about ninety minutes ago. Cracked her head open. A mild concussion, but Allen and I checked the CT scans and took care of her ourselves. No lasting damage. She was too stubborn to come home earlier. Right in the middle of code black conditions. She fell asleep on the drive home. Where can I put her?"

  His eyes and his tone told Ari more than she thought he realized. He looked down at Jillian for the longest time. And she was almost sure that…

  That he might actually care for Jillian.

  His hands looked so gentle, and there was something in his eyes... Did he care about Jillian that way? Did Jillian realize that, when they were together?
<
br />   Everyone had teased Jillian the other day about him. They'd been teasing her about him since the night she’d knocked him into the pool. Joking. None of them had actually expected there to really be something there.

  This was not something Ari had expected. She followed Lacy and Brynna toward Jillian's bedroom. She'd help them get Jillian settled, and just see for herself.

  Ari was still trying to figure out how she felt about the man who shared her DNA. He was very confusing and complex. Intense and difficult.

  It took her a moment to realize she’d also just described her brother Luc, too. Maybe there was something in the genes?

  She stood next to Lacy while Brynna gave Rafe orders about what Jillian liked and didn't like when she was sleeping. Rafe finally had enough and waved Brynna away, though Ari had to admit his tone was gentle. Kind.

  "We can take it from here, big guy," Lacy said, patting him on the shoulder.

  Lacy had changed in her view toward Rafe since she’d nearly died. Lacy had told her herself how Rafe had stepped right between Lanning and Travis that night, ready and willing to protect his younger brother. And Lacy. She’d said he hadn’t hesitated. That he’d first stepped between Travis, Lacy, and Lanning—and then tried to get between Lanning and Jillian.

  "You and I'll talk in a minute, okay? And if you want to stay, I'm sure we could set another place for you. They tend to eat late around here, dinner will be ready in about ten minutes."

  Ari didn't want him to stay. Having someone around that you knew did not like you, or want you in their lives, was not something anyone would enjoy. She just wanted him gone. So that she could forget how he felt about her. And Jillian and even Lacy.

  Although he didn’t seem to dislike Lacy anymore. And the way he touched Jillian as he covered her with the blanket told its own story.

  No, she didn’t think he disliked Jillian at all.

  But how did Jillian really feel about him? Ari was going to ask her friend that very question.

  As soon as Jillian was back among the living.

  77

  At least her head wasn't threatening to vibrate off of her neck when Jillian opened her eyes the next morning. There'd been a few times during the middle of the night when she had thought it already had.

  Every time she had opened her eyes, Ari had been right there next to her. Watching her out of worried dark eyes.

  Jillian had an old daybed in the corner of her room that had been hers when she was a young girl sharing space with Syd. Ari had moved the few stuffed animals to the chair and was stretched out on the horrible mattress, now sound asleep. Jillian appreciated the gesture. They took care of each other, her and her friends.

  With everything that had happened recently—hell, with everything that had happened since Halloween—whenever someone was hurt, they all pulled together. Depended on each other, like the family they were.

  She forced herself to sit up, and take stock of how she felt.

  The headache was manageable. She didn't think it was as bad as it had been after Justin Albright had ordered Houghton's limo to be wired with explosives. That day, she'd gone through the air several yards and slammed into the landscaping. The plants she’d landed in had cushioned her fall. She still had hit her head hard enough to do damage.

  Ari sat up when she did. Had her friend gotten any sleep last night?

  "Jilly? How are you feeling?"

  "I'll survive. I've had better mornings, but I've also had a few worse. What time is it?"

  "About six, I think. Doctor…I mean Rafe brought you home and carried you inside just a little after eight. You've been asleep this whole time. Lacy's in the guest room, along with Travis. She stayed to keep an eye on you, he stayed to keep an eye on her."

  "They didn't have to do that. I mean, if anything had happened, Rafe was just across the yard. But I appreciate it. And now I really have to go."

  Jillian took the time to shower, then slipped into some comfy clothes of her own. She hated sleeping in scrubs. The cotton just chafed in certain places at times. Her head hurt a little less when she was finished. Nothing a couple of aspirin wouldn't fix.

  She hoped.

  Lacy was already up and in the kitchen, helping Jillian’s father fix breakfast, moving more than she should. She stopped with the toast the moment Jillian entered the kitchen. Ari had been put to work setting the table. Ari wasn’t allowed to cook, period.

  Lacy stepped over to her. "Look at me. How's the head? Pain scale?"

  "I'll survive, Lace. Pain scale four-point-two-five-seven. Is that exact enough?" Jillian looked around. Her father and Lacy pretty much had breakfast in the can. Unusual.

  Usually when there was a meal with more than just her and her father—Syd had been spending a lot of time in St. Louis now—Jillian did most of the cooking. Unless she was working several days in a row. Then her father would whip something up. It wasn't like it used to be, when Syd was always around, when Mel was there, and Brynna. Even though Brynna and Mel were nearby—Brynna literally just across the street—it wasn't the same.

  Everything had changed back in October. Jillian was starting to think she sucked at change.

  78

  Rafe took Chance to the hospital with him. He didn’t want to make a formal report to the TSP. The hospital didn’t need that. Especially if Jillian’s fall had just been an accident.

  Chance was the next best thing—and his cousin had a vested interest in finding out what had happened.

  “I found her here.” He had kept the hallway closed off and he was glad of it, now. Jillian’s blood still stained the floor, and it pissed him off to see it. “How is she today?”

  He’d wanted to check on her, but it had been early when he’d gotten ahold of Chance. He’d had to work this little investigation in around his cousin’s schedule for the day. But he had no doubt that Chance had checked on her himself.

  “She’s awake, but obviously has a nasty headache. Lacy and Ari teamed up on her and have her taking it easy today.”

  “Good.”

  “How was she when you found her? Arms and legs?” Chance hunched down by the blood stain. “Jillian’s five-five-and-a-half, and weighs around one-twenty—”

  “One-thirty-one, according to her chart.”

  “Small, busy, distracted. She was an easy target. Question is, why?”

  “You think she was pushed?”

  “I don’t know. I’d rather assume the worst and be prepared for something else, than just assume she fell. And she had to trip with some serious force to hit the rail right there. I’m just going to assume here. Just in case.”

  Rafe had to admit, that was a good plan to him.

  “Blood-spatter doesn’t tell us much, other than she hit the rail with her head. We’re never going to know. Why are there no cameras?”

  “Lanning didn’t want to replace them. Budget cuts.”

  “Sure it was. Damned sonofabitch.”

  Rafe couldn’t disagree. But they weren’t learning anything else here. “I need to get the maintenance crew on the stairwell. Get it back open. Thanks for coming.”

  “Thanks for bringing her home last night. She’s special to us, you know? She’ll never replace Sara, but I’d almost forgotten what having a little sister felt like until her and Syd.”

  There was a world of memories in his cousin’s face.

  Memories Rafe shared. Memories that still stabbed just like a knife. Rafe nodded and patted his slightly older cousin on the shoulder once. He and Chance hadn’t always gotten along, but they were family.

  He didn’t like to see his family hurting.

  79

  Rafe watched the three women for the longest time as he stood in the Becks’ kitchen. He’d ridden back to his place with his cousin. Chance had to watch the baby while his wife worked with her sister and sister-in-law to flesh out the next saga in their video game. He’d ridden back with his cousin and somehow found his way back to the neighbors’.

  He wasn’
t quite sure how it happened.

  Rafe appreciated Chance’s help, even though he hadn’t gotten a definitive answer.

  Travis came up behind him and watched as well. Rafe looked at him, not surprised to see the love his younger brother felt for Lacy McGareth right there on Travis’ face for everyone to see.

  Rafe envied his brother.

  Envied his ability to embrace how he felt about anything, especially that girl. Envied that Travis had a woman to love him like that.

  Envy that Travis wasn’t afraid to love her. “You’re lucky, you know that?”

  “Every minute since that damned Lanning touched her. Look at her, Rafe. Who would have thought a woman like that would love me?”

  “You got lucky Lanning didn’t kill her. Bastards like that win more than they lose. Those three pretty women over there, perfect targets for them. And they don’t even know it. Right there next to you one moment, then their lights are gone in the next. Just boom. Dead. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” His words came out harsher than he’d intended. It was the way Jillian looked that hit him like a two-by-four. She was paler than usual, and it was obvious her friends were hovering. Worried. He never wanted to worry about someone like that again. Even Travis, Marcus, and the kids were too much. And now, thanks to Travis, Lacy. Lacy felt like the straw that broke this camel’s back at the moment. “Except hold them as they die.”

  “What happened to you over there?” Travis asked softly.

  “Don’t ask, Trav. It’s not something I’m going to talk about. Just know that men like you, like Chance and Elliot, half the time I think you’re fools. Other times...” He looked back at the women when Ariella laughed. Rafe studied her for a moment. She reminded him of Nadal when she laughed like that. Big brown eyes, so slender and sweet.

  The sweet naiveté, the innocence she couldn’t hide. The vulnerability that was written all over her. Lacy, for all her spirit and fire, wasn’t any less vulnerable. Nowhere near healed. She still looked so achingly fragile. She had proven that, too.