If the Dark Wins (Finley Creek Book 4)

by Calle J. Brookes

  Until the incident with Rafael Holden-Deane, that was.

  After that, they’d taken Jillian out of the ballroom and to her suite a few floors up.

  What had happened after her friend had knocked their boss into Houghton’s pool hadn’t exactly been pretty. But she had to admit, it had been very effective. It had had a rather dramatic flair to the whole thing.

  Jillian had been so angry she’d gone coldly silent. The one thing she had said was that she refused to let him ruin what Ari had accomplished.

  Just exactly what had happened hadn’t quite reached FCGH. Yet.

  When it did, it was not going to go well for Jillian at all.

  IT WAS the Snotty Garlic’s fault it happened as fast as it did.

  She’d only been at the hospital a few hours when Annie asked her about it.

  Fin took great delight in handing a printed copy of the tabloid to Lacy.

  Lacy took the printout and looked at it. “Seriously?”

  “Right there. In black and white.” Annie pointed.

  Lacy read it aloud. “‘Wealthy real estate baron and handsome horse rancher Travis Worthington-Deane seemed enamored of up-and-coming--and gorgeous—sizzlingly sexy surgeon, Dr. Lacy McGareth. The two could hardly take their eyes off each other. But romance wasn’t limited to the youngest Deane brother last night.’”

  Lacy studied the photos and nearly groaned aloud. There were more than a few of her—and Travis—dancing across the ballroom. She hardly recognized herself, but...he looked damned good in his tux. She somehow doubted it had been a rental. But it wasn’t just her and Travis. She kept reading. “‘Middle brother of those devastating Deanes’—seriously?—‘Rafael Holden-Deane, Chief of Medicine at Finley Creek General Hospital, was often seen in the company of that beautiful Beck, Jillian, sister of the stunning Melody Beck Barratt. Readers will remember her as the Trauma Nurse Lt. Governor Justin Albright was obsessed with only a few short months ago. Glad to see she’s made a full recovery. We’re not certain just what role Houghton Barratt’s swimming pool played between the seriously delicious doctor and the sexy little nurse, but they were both more than a bit wet when the evening ended.’” Jillian was going to be more than a little mortified. “‘But it doesn’t end there. Our favorite Deane brother, The Gorgeous Governor himself, was seen wrapped around the Woman for Hope After Violence event’s co-chair and organizer, that angelic Ariella Avery, sister to that devastating devil Davis Lucas, more than a few times. You may remember her as the young woman shot by the Lt. Governor when he was trying to abscond with Jillian Beck. Glad to see Ms. Avery has recovered as well. And can this writer say that the event was a smashing success. We here at the Snotty Garlic plan to make a sizable donation to W4HAV in memory of a good friend and former Garlic writer who was killed by an ex-boyfriend two years ago. Good job, Ms. Avery, and if you want the Gorgeous Governor, go for him!’ Ari is going to be mortified by this.”

  “So...truth. What the hell happened between Jillian and Rafe?” Fin asked. She probably knew the Chief of Med better than anyone at FCGH. “Tell us.”

  “She pushed him in the pool for being an asshole. And that is all I am saying.”

  SHE COULDN’T ESCAPE IT. Someone had plastered copies of the Snotty Garlic article everywhere. Virat especially enjoyed teasing her about it. “Thought you weren’t dating right now?”

  “I’m not. He’s…well...” She had to be honest, didn’t she? “He’s maybe more than a friend. Or he could be. That’s all I am saying.”

  “Uh huh. The handsome horse rancher and the sexy surgeon. Has a nice ring to it.”

  “Shut up, Vir, and scrub up.”

  He teased her all day.

  But it didn’t end there.

  And that didn’t take Holden-Deane into account. The man was furious to be tied to Jillian in that stupid tabloid. Unfortunately, since it was Jillian’s day off again—she’d put in for a four-day vacay to help Mel and Ari with the after-effects of the fundraiser—Lacy lucked into catching his ire.

  When he’d barked at her for the third time in three hours, Lacy rounded on him in the first private spot she could find with the big behemoth. “Dr. Holden-Deane, I am not the one that dunked you. Get over it. And from what you said to Ari, you deserved it! Ari’s…she’s sweet and naïve and all she wanted to do was see if you were a decent person because she’s afraid she’s just like that bitch who whelped you. Give her a break. Give Jillian a break. And just get over your own problems, because we have enough of our own without adding you to the pile. Damn, you really are nothing like your brothers, are you? They are at least kind to people. Ari worked for weeks to get last night just right and it is hard for her to deal with people like she did. She didn’t need you making things even harder. She’s extremely shy and you terrify her!”

  His dark eyes—the same damned color and shape as Ari’s—widened.

  “Dr. McGareth…is here really the best place for this?”

  “No.” She practically bit the words out. “I don’t. But you’ve been on my case since you first saw me this morning. What’s the deal?”

  “What do you mean, she’s afraid she’s like…her—our—biological mother?”

  Lacy paused. His tone hadn’t been hateful or rude, just curious. It disconcerted her for a moment. “That’s her business. Not yours.”

  “No. I don’t suppose it is, is it?” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “And this discussion shouldn’t be happening on hospital time.”

  “No. But your bad mood is.” Something about the way he looked down at her had the ire filling her subsiding a bit. There was pain in those eyes of his. What could possibly be hurting him right now? “Look, I’m sorry for what happened at the Barratts’. Jillian has a bit of a hidden temper. And she’s—we’re—extremely protective of Ari. Ari has been through a lot in the past two years and she’s naïve in a way that people don’t always see. It’s hard for those of us who care about her not to jump in to protect. And Jilly feels guilty for Albright.”

  “What the hell for?”

  She wasn’t about to get into that conversation with him. “She thinks she could have somehow stopped what happened. But that’s her business, not ours. My point is, I am not Jillian. So, get off my case around here.”

  “Understood. And…I’m sorry if I’ve been an asshole to you today. I haven’t meant to. Just ask my brothers, it’s my native state.” He held out a hand to her and Lacy shook it quietly. “Clean slate. And…I’ll try not to let that little she-devil friend of yours get under my skin again. Or that damned tabloid.”

  Lacy winced. “It was horrible, wasn’t it?”

  “It was quite…alliterative. The handsome horse-rancher never gets serious about a woman, you know that, right?”

  She understood the warning. She wasn’t the type a man like him would want for his brother. And she knew that. “Don’t worry, Holden-Deane, it’s not like that between us. I’m not fooling myself where your brother is concerned. I’m not about to get my hooks into him.”

  “Hook away, if you both want. That’s not what I meant. Travis fools everyone with that aw-shucks routine of his. But he’s got an easily bruised heart that he doesn’t always show. Women look at the exterior and don’t always see that he takes things to heart. Deeply. When he finally does get serious about a woman, he could be really hurt. I’d hate to see him hurt. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever known.”

  “And he says the same about you. And Marcus.”

  She had a lot to think about the rest of the day. It didn’t matter that someone—she strongly suspected Virat—had plastered copies of that stupid tabloid all over the doctor’s lounge.

  She was teased by everyone she encountered in there.

  One thing was clear—she didn’t know what Travis really wanted from her. Besides some fun in the bedroom, that was clear. The idea that she could hurt him rocked her. Made her question.

  Made her wonder just what that man was thinking. W
hat she was going to do next. Because the idea of anything real between her and a man like him absolutely terrified her in every way possible.

  49

  A piece of white paper blew across the parking garage right in front of his feet. Logan bent down and grabbed it. He had a clue what it was.

  Those damned Snotty Garlic printouts were everywhere. He’d even found one in the third-floor men’s room.

  There she was, wrapped up in that trash Deane’s arms. She looked beautiful. Perfect.

  Just as she should.

  But the man holding her wasn’t Logan. It could have been.

  He’d tried to find her after their one dance together, but neither his date nor that damned Worthington-Deane had let him.

  But he knew she’d felt something the moment they’d touched each other. He’d felt the trembling.

  And then she’d spent the rest of the night with that cowhand.

  Virat Patel had teased her all damned day long.

  Logan slipped the leather driving gloves over his hands. He never touched his dash with his hands. Human oils would stain and he’d paid too much for his car to have it dirtied. Even by his own hands.

  He was parked next to her red economy SUV. He took a quick look inside. It was neat, and she had a damned parking pass for the Barratt hotel in the dashboard. Of course she did. She probably spent quite a bit of time there.

  Logan rounded the car the instant he saw a small flyer jammed under her wiper.

  He grabbed it, quickly.

  Another copy of that damned Snotty Garlic. Logan’s fingers tightened around his keys and he stepped back. His hip knocked into the side view mirror of another sedan.

  Virat’s. Virat Patel, who had no doubt been responsible for those damned flyers being everywhere.

  Logan considered just leaving the mirror where it was.

  Instead, he picked it up and lashed out at the flyer that had landed back on the windshield of Lacy’s SUV.

  The glass cracked and went spiraling.

  Logan stared at what he’d done and forced the panic down.

  He knew the security cameras weren’t working in this area. He’d cut back on cameras in the employee section of the parking lot to fill some other limited resources for the pediatric nursing department when he’d been the COM. No one had seen what he’d done.

  But he did not want Lacy thinking someone had targeted her. Was out to hurt her. And wasn’t that what she would think?

  He’d burned her barn.

  Then trashed her car.

  No. She’d be too afraid.

  The entire reason for that benefit was because of Justin Albright’s stalking of Lacy and her adoptive family.

  He would not let anything he had done terrify her any more than she already had been.

  It would be best, wouldn’t it, if he made it look like a random act of vandalism? And that meant other cars targeted.

  The two next to hers would work.

  Virat’s.

  And his.

  Logan did what he had to do to protect Lacy from his own foolish rage and ran his keys over the paint of his precious Mercedes.

  It was only paint.

  Perhaps he’d have it painted a dark purple.

  Purple was Lacy’s favorite color, after all.

  When he was finished Logan hurried back inside through the back entrance to his office.

  Best to stay there until Security found him to let him know what had happened.

  50

  Her phone rang just as she was about to enter the parking garage. Lacy was half grateful for the call. She would probably never like walking through the hospital parking garage.

  Too much had happened there, and she knew it. But Lacy had never been a wimp. There was no way she was going to let a simple stone structure defeat her. She wasn't going to let the bastard who'd hurt her win. So every night she forced herself to walk to the parking lot. Sometimes she was alone. Most often though, she wasn't. Many nights, Virat walked her out. But he’d been held up with Fin.

  She answered the call quickly.

  "Travis, what do you need?" She didn’t know whether she wanted to talk to him tonight or not. Not after that conversation she’d had with his brother.

  She’d never been so confused over a man before in her life.

  "Do you really want me to answer that? I think we both know what I need."

  "You have to stop flirting like this. Someone will hear you and take you seriously." She smiled as she said it. He was relentless, but he made her laugh. Every time. She’d laughed more in the last month than she had in a long time. And it was all his fault.

  How could she be angry with him for that?

  "Will you take me seriously? Because I've seriously got a case for you. I think it had to do with that teeny tiny dress you were wearing the other night. Or that little purple tank top you wear that has those braided straps? You know I wanted to just slip it off your shoulders and…Well I'm a healthy male after all, sweetie. I think you know what that means."

  “Ok, not going to go there. Why are you calling?”

  “Well, I’m sitting here on your front porch wondering where you are…”

  "I'm at work. I’m in the parking lot now. Is there any particular reason why you're on my porch?"

  "Well, I brought the new calves and their moms over. They sure are cute. I didn't want them to surprise you. I don't know…do you have a phobia of cattle? I know some people do."

  "No Travis. I'm not afraid of cows. I'll be there i—" her voice trailed off, as she approached her red SUV. Her side mirror was lying on the concrete. "Travis, I'm going to have to call you back."

  "Honey? What’s wrong?"

  "Someone vandalized my car. I won’t be able to drive it. Damn it. I am… Going back inside to the security desk now." Since it was a private garage she’d have to report the damage to her car—and the two next to it. Damn it. She didn’t need this tonight.

  How dark and empty the parking lot was sank in even deeper. She clutched her phone tightly, not ready to sever the connection just yet.

  "Hurry inside, honey. I'm on my way."

  HE DROVE FAR FASTER than he should have. Travis reminded himself that she was fine, that she had been on the phone and it was apparently damage long done.

  But that damned video of her being beaten they’d shown at the fundraiser had given him nightmares the night before. They’d used actual security tape footage for parts of it. It hadn’t been an actress they’d watched being hurt.

  It had been his Lacy.

  And she was in that same damned parking garage now. Alone. And he’d heard the fear.

  Travis touched the screen of his phone, switching it to voice-activated while he drove. “Call Rafe.”

  The cell dialed his brother quickly. “Travis? What is it?”

  “Get your ass to the parking garage. Now. Lacy’s car’s been vandalized. I don’t want her dealing with it alone until I can get there.”

  “What?”

  “Just get there. I’m still thirty minutes away.”

  “I can’t just get away right now.”

  “Damn it, Rafe. Do it for me. She’s going to be terrified, even if she is back inside with security. It’s that same damned parking garage where she almost died. Just get to her. Because I asked.”

  “Consider it done.”

  51

  It took her a moment to realize it, but Travis’ brother was standing not even ten feet away from her, not speaking with anyone. But every time she moved, he was on alert. She tested it once, heading to the doors fifty feet away.

  Sure enough. He stayed close. She had a strong suspicion why.

  Rafael Holden-Deane was guarding her. Protecting. He might not like her, but she doubted there was anything he wouldn’t do for his younger brother.

  She had to admire that.

  Travis stormed into the hospital like an avenging angel—or a pissed off lover. Lacy thought he more closely resembled the second of those tha
n anything. She saw the same rage in his eyes that she'd seen in Elliot, Chance and Houghton’s eyes not all that long ago. But Travis’ rage was for her. Because he cared.

  He scooped her up and hugged her tightly the moment he saw her standing inside the ER lobby. Lacy found herself clinging in a way she hadn’t expected.

  And it wasn’t like she had been alone—Virat was there. Lanning was there. And Travis’ brother. But still…

  She clung to Travis for just an extra moment or two.

  Virat’s car had been parked next to hers on the left. Dr. Lanning’s had been on the right. She had not envied the security guard who’d had to notify Lanning about his Mercedes.

  Dr. Lanning’s hands shook with rage. He stood there not saying much of anything. But Lacy had seen the fury in his eyes.

  The TSP officers who took the complaint asked her a few questions about anyone that had a grudge against her and then told her she was free to go. Her small economy SUV had been parked between Virat’s and Dr. Lanning’s much pricier vehicles. All three had sustained similar amounts of damage. Unfortunately, since she'd been in the center, the damage was on both sides of her vehicle.

  Travis hugged her once, and dropped a kiss right on the center of her forehead. Then he placed her back on her feet. "Come on, honey, I’ll give you a lift home. In the meantime, I have a second cousin who has a garage on 17th St. I'll give them a call, have him come look at your car. He’s quick, too. Best of all he takes work on my stuff out in trade. Few T-bones and the guy is all set."

  "I can handle it, Travis. But I appreciate the offer." She would have to call a body shop, at least. Her front window had been cracked. Unfortunately, Doctors’ Row, the back section of the parking garage where she’d parked, wasn't well lit, nor was it well secured. Somehow, she always ended up having to park back there.

  Never again.

  No matter what she had to do, she was going to start parking near the front. Holden-Deane’s edict that the bottom two levels and the front two rows be kept for visitors to the hospital be damned.