Wounds That Won’t Heal

by Calle J. Brookes

  Her head lolled limply. But her eyes fluttered.

  “Ra…”

  “Baby, you’re going to be ok.” He kissed her once as her eyes drifted shut again.

  “Love…”

  She was out again.

  What he was about to do could kill them both.

  First responders were finally arriving, but with all of the construction around the complex—the construction company owned by his own damned cousin Cage—the fire trucks were having trouble getting through the gawking crowd and the full parking lot.

  He didn’t have time to wait.

  Rafe tightened his arms around her, put his back to the open window, and pushed with his feet.

  And then they were falling.

  146

  Fin made it out to the parking lot and to the edge of the crowd in time to see Rafe jump.

  She’d never forget the horror that filled her in that moment. A jump from thirty feet could kill someone easily from the impact injuries.

  From the percussion.

  Her scream was just one of dozens, but she was running before he landed.

  He had someone in his arms. Someone instantly recognizable from one-hundred and fifty feet away. The red hair was so distinctive.

  Fin grabbed the nearest person in scrubs she saw.

  Annie.

  “Go! Get two trauma teams ready and waiting. Best we have! Go! Tell them…tell Wanda high impact falls. Go!”

  Annie took off.

  Izzie was half a step behind Fin as they crossed the parking lot.

  The first fire fighters and paramedics were already there.

  Rafe was moving.

  Thank God he hadn’t died on impact. That was a good sign.

  But there were going to be injuries. “Rafe, stay still!”

  She looked at the woman next to him in the damned hostas. The leafy green plants were only a foot shorter than Fin.

  But Jillian wasn’t moving at all. “Jilly!”

  Allen was there, his face bloodied and filthy. All of him was. “She’s sedated, Fin. Solpalmitraln. I don’t know how much the bastard gave her.”

  The first responders went to her. They were careful, strapping her neck into a brace, then securing her body in the backboard.

  Jillian was limp. There was no way to tell how badly she’d been injured until they got her to the hospital.

  Rafe was a different story.

  Izzie yelled that she was going with Jillian and Fin nodded, her attention already on her boss.

  On her friend.

  “Chest.” He gasped as she made it over the edge of the flower bed that had no doubt saved his life to his side. “Broken ribs. Leg.”

  “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.” She wasn’t going to cry.

  “I know. Cracked my head, though.”

  Within half a second, he was unresponsive. Fin refused to panic.

  He was hurt far more than he was letting on, wasn’t he?

  Fin looked at Drew Russell, the paramedic. “Strap him down and get him to the ER. We’ll…take care of our hero there.”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’ll do that. Damned flowers saved his life, for sure.”

  Fin followed behind them at a run.

  147

  Rafe came to in the parking lot just outside the ER. He forced himself to stay still while they rolled him into the ER, and cataloged his own injuries.

  He’d broken some ribs when he’d landed. Snapped his upper arm—the arm that had been around Jillian’s back, holding her secure. Most likely had a concussion; the signs were there. The nausea and inability to focus.

  He’d tried to keep it where he landed in the flowerbed below first, but she’d slipped from his arms at the last second, and landed half on him, half on the largest plants.

  He just thanked the stars that the landscaping company hadn’t used thorny, hard-stemmed plants in the damned beds. That they had mixed hostas and other large soft-leaved plants to form a huge, majestic garden to combat the plain, utilitarian buildings. He’d been lucky.

  And that they had only been thirty feet up.

  They could have been impaled if that had happened.

  “Fin!” Rafe practically coughed the word, and waved his less injured hand around, knowing she was going to be nearby.

  She popped up right beside him, all beautiful, blonde, blue-eyed and worried. “Yes?”

  “You stay with Jillian and get me information as soon as you get it. I need to know exactly how she is. I need to.”

  “Gotcha, boss.” Fin nodded at the paramedics as they wheeled Rafe into Trauma C. “She’s in B.”

  “And find out about my sister…”

  “I’ll find out. I promise.”

  148

  When Jillian opened her eyes, Lacy was leaning over her and her head felt like her brain had been replaced with cotton batting. It felt just that empty.

  Yet she didn’t feel like she’d had her squash cracked again. So probably no concussion. “Lacy?”

  “Hey, sleepyhead. Looks like I missed all the excitement.”

  Excitement? It took Jillian a few moments to put her thoughts together. “There was a man. And he drugged me. We were fighting. He’s the one who killed Jessica Ward. He smelled like Solpalmitraln. It was all over him.”

  “He used it as the accelerant to start the fire. That stuff is ridiculously flammable. Apparently one of the reasons it’s supposed to be refrigerated. How much do you remember?”

  “Not much. I remember he had the needle and he shoved it in my neck. Next to the scar.” She touched her throat lightly.

  “He drugged you…and Ari. She came running to your rescue. You had three times the recommended amount.” Lacy went on to describe how they’d treated her. “And Ari had about one and a half. She came up and was trying to get you out.”

  Jillian didn’t remember her friend being there at all. Just a vague memory of Rafe… “Is she ok?”

  “She’s still sleeping. She had to have her arm set and is still out from the surgery. Virat waited until the Solpalmitraln was out of her system before he performed the surgery. Marc’s sitting with her now.” Lacy hesitated. “Do you remember Allen being there? Or Rafe?”

  Jillian tensed. “Lacy, where is he? Rafe.”

  “Allen’s got a few bumps and bruises, but he fared better than you and Rafe. He carried Ari out of the building, all hero-style. The Snotty Garlic snapped a photo and it’s already on their site. They…got you and Rafe coming out of the building together the fast way—it’s all on video. Damned quick, those paparazzi.”

  “Where is Rafe?” She trusted Lacy, of course, but Jillian needed to see him for herself.

  For a moment there she’d been afraid she’d never see him again. Tears fell unchecked down her cheeks.

  Lacy grabbed a tissue and wiped them off for her.

  “He’s snoozing. Next room,” Travis said, from just inside the door. Jillian studied him quickly. Rafe’s brother was tired, but he seemed ok. Which meant so was Rafe. Some of her tension lessened. But just some. “Concussion. Broken ribs where you landed on him—you little heavy weight, you. Cracked upper arm or something like that. And his left leg is going to be bothering him for a while, but it wasn’t broken. You are all going to be ok.”

  Jillian wasn’t so sure of that. Not until she could see him. “Take me to him. Lacy, make it happen.”

  “No problem.” Lacy studied her, then grinned. “We already have him in room 403. Wanda suggested it. I told her that wasn’t necessary, that you’d taken care of it already, but she said not to hedge your bets. That Rafe was too good for you to pass up.”

  Jillian smiled around the stitches in her lip. The delivery guy had slapped her once or twice, she thought. That sobered her again. “The guy who did this?”

  “Claireson Pharm delivery guy. Caught on fire. He never made it out of the building, Jilly. It’s over.”

  She released the breath she’d been holding. “Get me to Rafe. Just get me
to him.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lacy grabbed her phone and sent a short text.

  Two minutes later, Izzie and Annie arrived.

  Jillian’s taxi service was ready to get her where she needed to be.

  It couldn’t happen soon enough.

  149

  “You sure he’s ok?”

  Rafe heard the question and his eyes immediately popped open.

  Beck-brown eyes were only inches from his face. “Hey…”

  “Hey, yourself. Heard we tried to fly.” There was a world of pain and confusion in those eyes. Rafe reached out with his mostly uninjured hand and touched the light blue stitches holding her lip together. She’d probably scar.

  He studied her for a moment—she was in far better shape than he was. She was at least standing on her own two feet.

  It would be a while before he was. “Get up here.”

  “Just so you know, big brother…that bed is not big enough for two people,” Travis said from the door. “My girl and I have already tried it.”

  “We’ll make do.” Rafe didn’t care—nor did he care that two patients in one bed was against hospital policy—he wanted her next to him.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Jillian said.

  “Get up here. Watch the ribs, though.” Just for a minute, just to reassure himself that she was real. She gingerly climbed up, perching next to his waist. It was the only spot on the mattress big enough for her to fit. He tangled his fingers in the red hair still hanging loose. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “Bumps. Bruises. Shaky from the drug. Cracked ribs—boy, do I get a lot of those—but no concussion. Apparently when you’re limp and fall in the flowerbeds, on top of people, you don’t get as injured. I’d say I’m sorry for landing on you, but I’m not sure how it happened.”

  He was only half-conscious of Travis and Lacy leaving the room. Rafe could only focus on Jillian. “I got you out of there the only way I could. The floor out in the hall was already burning. We wouldn’t have made it to the stairs. I knew…in Africa…if Nadal and Momo had just jumped a few moments earlier, they would have landed twenty-five feet below and possibly survived. Others did. But they were too trusting of the responders. I knew if they had just jumped, he could have protected her.”

  “We’re safe now.”

  “Yes.” Except it wasn’t over. Allen had already been in to check on Rafe personally. To fill him in on the details of what had happened before Rafe had gotten there.

  And one thing Allen had been clear on—the delivery guy hadn’t been working alone. Someone else was still out there—and that someone was calling the shots.

  Someone would have to find that someone. Quickly.

  Before anyone else got hurt.

  But that was for tomorrow. For today, he had something he had to say. “Jillian…”

  She just sat there, looking at him.

  Rafe tried again. “You have alternately driven me insane and made me hotter than I have ever been. But that is just what it is…”

  “What are you trying to say?” She rested her palm over his heart. It immediately sped up. “Rafe?”

  “I’m saying…asking…what would it take to have you moving in with me the way Lacy has with my brother?” He’d never felt more vulnerable in his life. Never felt like anything as important hung in the balance before.

  Except with her.

  She was quiet for far too long.

  And then she smiled. “All you had to do was ask. Although, I will warn you—some of our neighbors can be problematic. There’s this orange-haired one that is extremely nosy. And her husband? Well, I’m not sure where he hatched from…”

  “I think we’ll be able to tolerate them ok. After all, they’re family…”

  She leaned forward carefully. “Kiss me. On this side of my mouth, though.”

  Rafe obliged, careful of the stitches. When she pulled back, it was to someone clearing their throat behind them.

  Virat Patel stood in the door. The surgeon frowned at both of them, but Rafe saw the humor in the man’s eyes. “Miss Beck, that is not appropriate hospital behavior. And by the way, sweetie, you might want to close the back of your gown before someone else gets a show.”

  Jillian yelped and reached back. The laughter that filled Rafe felt good, though his ribs didn’t agree.

  “Seriously, Vir, did you have to look?”

  “Of course. Now. If I can get both of you to agree, we’ll just move you into here with the big boss man. How does that sound?”

  “Perfect,” Rafe said. “As soon as possible.”

  He wasn’t talking about room 403. It was obvious Jillian knew that. She smiled and leaned closer. “I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Oh?”

  “One benefit of having a big family? We can accomplish anything.”

  Rafe believed it.

  Being a part of that family with Jillian Anne Beck was exactly the kind of future that he wanted. “Just get it done. Because as soon as I get out of here, you and I have a future to plan.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  And it was.

  150

  Allen sat next to the woman’s bed and just thought. Wondered. Gave thanks that the ones who’d deserved to be safe were the ones to get out of that damned building alive.

  Ariella sighed in her sleep and turned toward the light, revealing the bruise across one delicate cheek. She reminded him of his sister in that moment. Shelby looked just that innocent when she slept—still.

  And she reminded him of Jess.

  The coloring, anyway. The body was all wrong. Jess had been beautifully curved. Ariella was far from it. She looked almost too thin; no surprise considering the bullet Virat had taken from her chest just a handful of months ago.

  She’d suffered enough.

  A hand landed on his shoulder and Allen jerked. He looked up into green eyes of a man he’d known for almost half his life. He and Marcus Deane had been friends without being good friends. On the periphery of each other’s circles. “Thanks for sitting with her, Allen. I just wanted to check in on my kids for a moment or two.”

  Allen nodded. He’d been on his way up to check on Ariella and Jillian one last time before heading out to his cabin in Oklahoma for a few weeks when Marcus had asked him to sit with Ariella.

  He hadn’t minded.

  Allen had dreamed that it had all been too late.

  And he’d watched that damned video of The Snotty Garlic over and over as soon as they’d posted it. It was all over the internet now. Claiming he and Rafe had been heroic.

  Allen sure didn’t feel heroic. If he had just seen what was going on with Jess, maybe he could have prevented all of it.

  He stood and looked at the other man. Marcus had pulled a chair up next to the bed. He had Ariella’s free hand in his and just sat watching her.

  Allen had to wonder just how close this Deane brother was to her. There was something there, he just couldn’t identify what it was. “She’ll be ok. The Solpalmitraln is out of her system now. And the break wasn’t too significant. The surgery was minor.” He’d checked the charts himself. Just like he’d checked Jillian’s and Rafe’s.

  He’d had to know.

  Allen had watched them pull the body of Jess’s killer from the charred remains of that building.

  The building was a total loss, all that stood were a partial brick skeleton and the flowerbeds Rafe and Jillian had landed in.

  They’d survived.

  They’d all survived.

  Except Jess.

  A hand landed on his shoulder again and Allen looked up. “Allen? I’m sorry about Jessica. I know the hurt losing them causes.”

  Allen broke down and cried, right there with the governor of Texas next to him, and dark-eyed girl sleeping just a few yards away.

  He hadn’t known he’d loved Jess so much…

  Epilogue

  Jillian got out before Rafe did. She half-suspected the staff at FCGH was enjoying hav
ing their boss helpless at their hands.

  Fin was being extra cautious, having taken official charge of the hospital while he was out. She would be good at the job, but she didn’t want it. And made no bones about that with the Board.

  They were scrambling to cover the PR nightmare that Solpalmitraln had caused. Investigators from whatever branch of the government that regulates drug trials—Jillian wasn’t exactly clear on all the details—had come out of the woodwork to comb over FCGH with a fine-toothed comb.

  Rafe told her that even if there was a desire to sell the hospital now, after this fiasco—which thanks to The Snotty Garlic was everywhere on the news, with her and Rafe and Allen the forerunners of the stories—no medical group would touch the hospital with a hundred foot pole.

  It was going to be up to Rafe and Fin to fix everything, somehow.

  She had complete faith in them.

  But she had other things on her mind.

  Namely, getting everything she owned nestled right next to his. She’d certainly never lived with a man before—she’d never moved out of her father’s house, actually—but she was eager to get their life going. The way it would be.

  It was her future now. And for the first time in weeks, since Albright had nearly killed her, she actually saw one.

  Apparently it had taken almost dying again to make her see what was really important, to crystalize what she actually wanted from her life.

  She wanted the man she loved.

  Jillian got everything arranged the way she wanted it. She only had her bedroom full of stuff, anyway. Not like it took all that long.

  Her father was overseeing the new glass installation in the front windows and the new carpet. Rafe had gone with a rich gray. The white had been too impractical and too sterile.

  He’d let her help him pick it out.

  This house was going to be filled with as much warmth as Jillian could make it.

  He deserved that much.

  Fin called as she was putting the last of her clothes in the huge dresser next to his.