Wounds That Won’t Heal

by Calle J. Brookes

  Everyone, everything had just changed. Change sucked.

  "Come in, I'll show you what I'm talking about.”

  Jillian led the way up his porch. It was an old-fashioned but appealing deck that encircled his entire home. The inside of the house was completely modern and minimalistic in a way that she found breathtakingly beautiful. But the outside had that old world charm that the rest of their neighborhood boasted.

  It was one of her favorite things about her neighborhood. If she ever did move, that was something she hoped her new home would possess.

  He unlocked the door quickly and flipped on the light in the entryway. "I'll order some take-out. What would you like?"

  "Whatever you want is fine with me. I'm not picky."

  What she wanted was to have him wrap those ridiculously strong arms around her and just hold her. Help her forget.

  And why did the idea of spending the next few hours with Rafe sound so much better than going home?

  98

  Rafe changed out of his suit quickly after leaving his guest pouring over take-out menus. She’d said it would take her a minute or two to figure out what she wanted. He didn’t know the severity of her dyslexia, but she’d told him she had dyslexic-specific fonts installed on her phone. She was googling the online versions of his menus now.

  She had strategies to cope with the dyslexia and he admired how she made no secret about her conditions. It spoke of a confidence and understanding of herself that he definitely respected.

  When he was finished, he grabbed the files he’d copied and carried them into his kitchen.

  Where the redheaded she-devil waited.

  * * *

  The man looked damned good in those suits he always wore, but he was absolutely made for jeans. Jillian’s mouth wasn’t exactly watering for Sesame chicken at the moment.

  Jillian forced herself to focus on the files in his hands. “What are those?”

  “Doctored files. With Lacy’s signature on them. Several have Virat’s name. Some Lanning’s. And some Jacobson’s.”

  “You’ll have to read them for me. Unless they are in a specific font designed for dyslexics, I don’t read print-outs without a transparency over.”

  “Why?”

  “A colored transparency can minimize distortion for dyslexics. And the new fonts that are intended for dyslexia are awesome. It makes it so much easier to handle information. And my tablet specifically has that font on it. Wanda makes sure I either get a digital file of every document I need from HR or memos or she prints it out for me in my font. I don’t have to write out anything and I have an app on my tablet that will read me whatever I need it to.”

  “How old were you when you were diagnosed?”

  “The official diagnosis came at nine, but we knew. And my mother was relentless at researching everything I would need. It wasn’t just the reading that was an issue. The dysgraphia is actually worse for me. I can read; it’s just very difficult to deal with all of those dancing letters on the page. It took me a long time to learn how to just write my name. My mother...she worked with me just as much as she worked with Brynna. She was determined we would succeed in school. And she fought the school itself a few times. They wanted to put both of us in Special Ed. Classes for high school, too, but my parents felt that wasn’t the right path to take for either of us. Thought it really helped us in elementary and middle school. My mother was instrumental in getting the program created at Baker St. High for students with dyslexia and dysgraphia. Autism was already being addressed, but my conditions weren’t. My mother changed all of that.”

  “She sounds like she was a remarkable woman.”

  “She was.” The best. Someone Jillian strived to be like as much as possible. Her mother would do anything for the ones she loved. Anything.

  Rafe ordered the food, then spread out the paperwork on his counter.

  Jillian just watched him. He looked good, with his castle surrounding him. It suited him. Large and gorgeous.

  “So what do you want from me?” Her cheeks heated when his dark eyes turned intense. Something had changed in him that afternoon in Ari’s office. He no longer bothered to hide the attraction he obviously felt. And that, more than anything, unsettled her. “I meant the files.”

  “I’m not really certain. A second opinion, possibly.”

  “What do you think is happening?”

  “Solpalmitraln. Every case that is questionable ties into that damned drug. And we’re missing massive quantities of it. If that hit the street, I’m not sure what the ramifications would be. I need to find out why. And how to fix this problem without losing the entire backing of Claireson Pharmaceuticals. Because that’s our biggest donor. If we cut them off during this trial then—”

  “We could potentially lose a significant source of cash.” Jillian understood what he meant. And the repercussions of that. Hospitals weren’t often profitable.

  “And the hospital is already operating in the red. Especially the surgical trauma department. And the entire ER. I was brought in to find out why. And how to fix it, before the entire place is sold to some major medical group that practices cookie cutter medicine, for those who are the higher paying patients. It would change the entire fabric of FCGH if that were to ever happen.”

  Jillian knew she gawked at him. But she’d had no clue... “How bad is the outlook?”

  “Bad. I either need to isolate where the problems are—or find better backers to make up the significant loss. FCGH used to be efficiently ran. I need to get it back that way. Quickly. It’s the entire reason I was brought in from outside. Otherwise Jacobson was going to be offered the position.”

  “So why Solpalmitraln?”

  “Because of two things. We’re seeing side effects that we shouldn’t. And we’re missing massive quantities of the liquid drug. The version used in intravenous administration to our most critical patients. I need to find it. And only physicians in the surgical trauma department can access it, along with sixteen other carefully monitored physicians.”

  “So how many are we talking about?”

  “Minus Lacy, since I know she’s in the clear for when the majority went missing, and Lanning for obvious reasons, twenty-two possible physicians, and nine auxiliary personnel.”

  “Thirty-one possible answers.” She covered his hand on the first file. “And what do you need from me?”

  “Everything you know about any of the people on my list. Rumors, personal observations, patient complaints. Anything that stands out.”

  “Then let’s get started.”

  * * *

  The Chinese was delicious; she’d eaten from the restaurant many times. It was one of Lacy’s favorite places and she persuaded Jillian and Ari to eat there all the time.

  Her friend had texted five minutes ago to see what Jillian was doing at the moment. All she’d sent back was that she was eating dinner—with Travis’ brother.

  Lacy’s response had been a big fat, “Oh enjoy…and don’t forget to use a condom.”

  Sometimes having friends was more embarrassing than she wanted to think about.

  Attraction and the fact that she was alone with the last man to kiss the very brains out of her were pushed aside for the moment as they discussed the larger implications of what they were trying to find.

  Jobs and lives depended on this man. Why hadn’t she realized that before? And why did she feel so much compassion for the burdens he had to carry? Jillian fought the urge to cuddle him and make him smile, just at her. And that was utter craziness.

  Dear gravy, was she feeling tenderness, protectiveness, toward him?

  Jillian was not ready to face that idea at all.

  Instead of reaching for the man like her hormones were urging her, she reached for the stack of files. “Was Lanning abusing the liquid Solpalmitraln? Or just the pills?”

  She shivered as she remembered how he’d looked in that moment before he’d killed himself and tried to take Lacy with him. The pain, t
he torture, in his eyes.

  "What do people do it?" she asked after an hour or so. After they’d spent every minute they weren’t eating discussing the rumors and more salacious gossip about people she knew and respected. “Why do they think it's okay to hurt each other the way they do? We did nothing to anyone, yet Albright thought nothing of hurting all of us. How was anything that happened supposed to make sense? He was going to kill us all. All of us. Because of some stupid computer disk that was older than I was. There was one file on it—the rest of it contained Carrie’s baby pictures. Because of greed. He wanted what Marcus had. That's all there was to it. And Lanning? Is what happened with Lanning and Lacy tied to what happened with Albright? Maybe he got addicted to the drugs because of being shot that night. We’ll never know. Or maybe he started getting obsessed with Lacy that night in the parking garage. We just don't know. And I don't know… I don't know how much longer I can do this."

  The last thought slipped out, finally coming out. She’d finally said what she had been feeling for months. And it was to him.

  Jillian just sat and stared at him, the last egg roll still clutched in her hand.

  "What you mean?" His words were soft, and the hand he put on her cheek warm. Jillian fought the sudden urge to just throw herself against him and hold on until the storms filling her just stopped.

  All of it hit her right at once—Albright, Lanning, the loss of Sam just a few hours ago. And now this. Him. All of it. "I've thought about moving to St. Louis lately. Carrie’s up there. I have friends there, so it's not like I would be alone. Ari spends at least a week each month up there with Luc and Paige’s families. Syd starting to do nearly the same. It would be a fresh start. Someplace without all the memories. I could travel back and forth some."

  He stiffened, and she knew he hated the very idea of it. “Is that really what you want?”

  Did she? Jillian didn't know. All she knew was everything was so complicated here now. And a part of her just wanted to run and keep on running. She was so screwed up sometimes. “I don't know. I'm not going to lie. I've thought about it quite a bit lately. But is that just me wanting to run away like a coward?"

  "I don't want you to go."

  "Why? I'm nothing to you, after all."

  “Nothing?” Before she even realized he'd moved, he had her. Those big, hot hands of his wrapped around her waist faster than she could blink. He lifted her, until she was pressed right against him. "Do you really think that ? I think it's pretty evident. You burn me, Jillian Beck. And it's been a long, long time since I've been able to say that about a woman. So no, I don't want you to leave. But I don't want you to stay, either. You've got me twisted up inside and I'm still trying to figure out how I want to deal with that. I know what I want—"

  He dragged a thumb over her bottom lip. She stared into his dark eyes. The hunger was hard to miss. Heat pooled in her stomach. Hunger. She shivered. "Rafe… I… Oh, hell…"

  They both knew what was about to happen.

  She moved first, he moved first, she didn't really know. Jillian just pressed closer.

  99

  Rafe knew if he didn't pull back soon, he was not pulling back at all tonight.

  That was the last thing she needed. But he couldn’t force himself away from her.

  He slipped his hand beneath the cotton scrubs she wore, and coasted his fingers over the smooth skin of her abdomen. Jillian's body was perfection in itself.

  She gasped beneath his touch.

  But she didn’t pull away.

  Jillian wore silk beneath the cotton. His fingers found what they sought, and he cupped her, his thumb brushed across the tip lightly.

  She turned to fire in his arms.

  Rafe scooped the little she-devil up. Dark eyes met light. “This is what you want?”

  “Right now, yes. And right now is all I can think about.” Jillian leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. That was all it took for both of them.

  Rafe carried her to his bed. Right where he wanted her from the very beginning.

  100

  It was the Chinese that had done it. That and maybe the wounded expression on his face.

  She didn't want to think of Rafael Holden-Deane as being wounded. That made him seem too human.

  For a while, that had been the last thing she had wanted. Rafael Holden-Deane should not be human. Be vulnerable.

  That had changed so quickly.

  Or maybe she had?

  It was time Jillian owned her own actions.

  Well. Maybe later.

  Right now she was just enjoying snuggling up against the warm naked man next to her. Rafe had been as intense a lover as he was everything else.

  She definitely wasn’t about to complain.

  "Going to sleep all day?" His chest rumbled under her cheek as he talked. “It’s almost nine.”

  "Yes. Going to stay right where I’m at, and pretend that all the reasons why we shouldn't be here like this don't exist. How about you?"

  No more hiding anything from him.

  Honesty. It was the only choice she really had. They owed each other that much.

  She hadn’t wanted a relationship with an intense, powerful man like him. But that was exactly what she was on the brink of having with him.

  She didn’t know if she regretted that or not.

  She was leaning toward not.

  "So is it like that? Regrets? Are we going to hide what happened?" He shifted her, until she was straddling him. Jillian’s eyes popped the rest of the way open. She just looked at him.

  He looked even better naked.

  Rafe slid her hips back until she felt him pressed against her. Desire fluttered in her. Here he was, the hottest man in the world, right beneath her. She didn't want to waste time talking. But words had to be said, didn't they?

  "I'm a Beck, we don't hide things. Own our own actions. I'm not ashamed of what we did, Holden-Deane. I just don't know what's going to happen next. And I’m one of those pre-planners who likes to know what comes next. I kind of need that, you know?" She knew what she wanted to happen immediately next, but sex didn't fix problems. Often times, it just created more. Especially sex with powerful handsome doctors like this one beneath her. He was so going to complicate things. He already had. "Besides the obvious, I mean. And you’re kind of obvious. Rather hard to miss."

  She felt his laugh rumble through his chest. He had a good laugh. And a beautiful smile. When he used them. She was hit with an absurd urge to just tickle him.

  To make him laugh even more.

  But that was ridiculous. There were other things to do with the hottest man at FCGH when he was naked beneath a girl.

  Jillian stretched down, and kissed him. Let him know exactly what she wanted.

  Rafe rose to the challenge.

  Perfectly.

  101

  When they were finished, Jillian dressed quickly. She didn't want to cross the yard naked. Or in last night’s scrubs. She thought she could borrow one of his shirts, it would cover her to her knees, no doubt. But she didn't need her extremely-up-in-her-business extra-intrusive neighbors staring at her.

  Chance and Brynna were damned nosy neighbors, after all.

  She did end up borrowing a white undershirt from him and loose navy shorts. He laughed as he tightened the drawstring and tied it off himself. "I could walk across the yard and have one of your sisters get me some clothes for you. Or your father."

  "Do you know what they would do to you if you tried?" Brynna would be full of embarrassing questions and the ultra-virginal Syd would die of mortification.

  "I can only imagine." Then he sobered. "This only has to change things if we want it to, Jillian. But we are not going to be able to hide the fact that you spent the night here last night. Brynna is already on her front porch, rocking the baby in the swing. If you left right now, she'd see you."

  "Who said I'm going to leave right now?" Jillian thought about it for a long moment. That was the last thing she wan
ted to do. She didn't want to leave this man. She wanted to stay right where she was, and spend the day with him, and no one else.

  Not with his brother and Lacy, not with his cousins or her family, not at the hospital.

  She wanted to do nothing but spend the day with Rafael Holden-Deane and learn who the man she had just slept with was.

  Unless he didn’t want that.

  Unless it was just sex between them in his complicated man head.

  That thought terrified her. Kept her quiet. Had her crossing his monstrous living room to the big front windows. She shifted the thin white curtain out of her way, and looked across the yard for herself.

  Her sister’s orange hair was rather distinctive, wasn't it? And there was the baby clutched in her sister's arms. Jillian just watched them for a moment, mind running over everything that Brynna had been through in the last year.

  Yet her sister was healing, was building her future with a man that loved her. Was moving on.

  Wasn't it time Jillian did the same? Brynna had not closed herself off from life the way Jillian had. Been afraid of everything and everyone. Jillian knew herself well, knew her faults. When afraid she hissed and fought like a cornered cat.

  Rafe had terrified her from the moment they’d met.

  It was time that ended. Jillian watched as Brynna stood and crossed her front porch to meet the man who had just opened the front door. Chance leaned down and kissed Brynna across the forehead, and put a hand on their baby’s back. He led his small family into the house where they were building their life together.

  An intense yearning went through Jillian, a longing for that kind of belonging. Did Rafe ever feel that way?

  Hell, she knew that he had.

  That was exactly how she felt now. On the outside, just watching as the rest of her world’s lives just kept going. Yet she felt frozen, in stasis.