Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1)

by Kristina Weaver

  She’d almost died, herself, from a head injury, but my girl is a fighter and pulled through.

  I can’t imagine what that must have been like for her and wish like hell I’d known her so I could have been there for her.

  I think of my own ma and pop waiting on me to do what I have to and get my girl home where she belongs and I smile. They know what I’m doing, and after months of discussing it, even Ma said I can’t leave Ellie to her own devices for much longer. So here I am, trying to keep my lust and love contained and ease her into things when all I want really is to claim her and shove her kicking and screaming back into life.

  Too fragile, Wyatt, she’s too fragile.

  I can’t forget that she lost her family, spent months grieving, and then had to deal with the terror and pain that that piece of shit Bolton put her through.

  I have to remember that she needs time.

  Thinking of time, I realize that enough has passed that she is probably pacing, or worse—searching for a way out of the fortress that my uncle Garner is letting me use for this mission. I go back up and unlock the door.

  The roundhouse she throws at me the minute I walk in is easily deflected, as is the kick to my nads and the teeth she tries to sink into my neck after her agile ass all but scales my six-five frame.

  Goddamn, I knew she would be perfect.

  After deflecting every well-placed hit and wrapping my arms around my five-three, blonde beauty, I calmly throw her ass over my shoulder in a fireman carry and quickly make my way downstairs as she hits, bites, and scratches at my back and ass with her claws.

  “Put me down, you idiot!”

  A hard smack to her plump ass settles her down nice and quick, and I feel my dick perk up at the way she immediately stills and goes lax in my arms.

  I like my sex dirty, enjoy a sensual spanking every now and then, and envision many enjoyable evenings showing my baby what her body is capable of.

  “You settle down and stop fighting and I’ll put you down. Try anything else and I’ll tie you to the chair and force-feed your ass. I told you, I don’t want you hurting yourself, and you will if you come at me again. I’m army trained, little girl. Nothing you throw at me is getting through.”

  That shut her the hell up real quick, and I feel her tense as I let her down, regretting my words when stark fear shines back at me from those brown eyes.

  I hate scaring her, but my baby needs to know me and understand what I’m capable of, so that she will eventually realize I am able to stand between her and any asshole who thinks to get at her ever again.

  Although I don’t expect this will be a problem once I get her to fall for me and I take her home to the family. Once she’s under my roof, she won’t ever need to be alone or unprotected, not with me, Dad, Ma and my two ex-marine brothers having her back.

  Which reminds me…I need to call those two fools and get an update on the little job I have them working. But not yet. My girl’s been passed out for almost twelve hours on that shit I gave her and she must be hungry. Food first.

  “Come on, baby, come sit while I throw together some lunch.”

  Her eyes are shooting sparks at me through the fear, but after a slight hesitation, she follows me to the counter, takes the barstool I’m holding out, and watches me like a hawk while I throw together a meal of steak, potatoes that I put in the oven earlier, and a protein shake that I’ll shove down her throat if she tries to ignore it.

  “I don’t eat this.”

  So defiant. I’m going to enjoy bringing her to heel.

  I know she doesn’t eat this kind of food. I’ve seen the discount shit she eats and I won’t have it. Chicken is fine, but the woman eats it boiled, no seasoning, and way too often for my liking.

  “You eat what I give you. And drink your shake.”

  You would swear she wasn’t in a hostage situation, or that the fear she’s still carrying around like a shroud isn’t there, because my barked order had the opposite effect of what I expected.

  “It’s all fried and has enough butter and salt on it to kill a full-grown man. As for that slop you poured in the glass…hell no. I don’t like spinach. Or raw eggs.”

  “Too bad. Eat your food so your ass can stop shrinking. Please.”

  I get a huff and another killing glare before she cuts into the steak delicately and takes her first bite. She likes it if that moan she couldn’t curb is true, and Goddamn if her eyes didn’t just roll back in her head when she took a bite of the baked potato.

  Good, she likes it. Since I know how to cook, thanks to my tyrannical mother, I won’t have a problem getting my baby back to her normal size ten.

  I like my girls curvy and padded enough to take all I have to give. Being a big guy in every department I can’t go around screwing women who look like twigs and will likely break apart under me after one hard thrust.

  She eats everything on her plate and even manages to get the shake down with only one or two gags before sitting back and studying me beneath her lashes. The food and quietness have mellowed her enough that she’s not a stiff board anymore and is obviously ready to talk.

  I’m not telling her everything, not till she’s fully mine and incapable of leaving me, but I will give her enough to at least relax enough to give us a try.

  “Why?”

  That’s all she says after minutes of staring at me with dead eyes. I hate that look she gets, as if she’s closed off a big part of herself to survive.

  “I’ll answer that question when you tell me what is wrong with you, baby.”

  Eyes narrowed, she grinds her teeth and sucks at them in loathing.

  “I am not your baby and there is nothing wrong with me. Now answer the question.”

  “You are, and there is since I’ve seen you make yourself almost invisible for months now. Tell me, do you pee on a time schedule, too, or do you let your body tell you when to go?”

  I’m being cruel, but at this point, I’ll take anger over that dullness she’s trying so valiantly to recapture. Ellie is good at that, and while I understand her need to protect herself, I won’t let her do it with me.

  “No answer? Well, then, let me tell you, I’m sick of watching you all but kill yourself with these bullshit defence mechanisms you’ve put in place. You do everything at the right time, in the right way, and never veer off schedule. I know why, baby. It’s easier to barely exist when you never change and your routine gives you a sense of false security, but that shit ends now.”

  It will because from now on, not one single day in her life will be the same. I plan to spoil her and surprise her every day, whether it’s something big or small, I don’t care.

  I already bought her two cars and one of those expensive laptops every woman needs, along with a new phone, tablet, and one of those reader things that chicks dig so much.

  And Ma, after I gave her measurements, has got my girl’s closet stocked to the gills.

  I can afford it all since I own two of the world’s leading investment firms and still have my fingers in the family business, though Pop runs that shit, mostly from the safety of his home office so he can keep close to his woman.

  “You know nothing about me.”

  But I do. Not nearly all I want to know, but everything that I need to for the moment.

  “No? That’s where you’re wrong, baby. For instance, I know that you broke your arm, ankle, and almost died from a brain injury in the accident that took your family. I know that you cried but also put together a party to honor them and spent half that day drunk off your ass. And then there’s you going back to school and getting straight A’s even when you didn’t want to get out of bed.

  “I know all that, and that three months after that, you were stalked by a sick maniac who eventually nabbed you and kept you for a plaything for three weeks. I know it all from police reports and anything else I could find. And now, after months of watching you, I know that you’re trying to disappear, even from yourself. So tell me what else I don’t
know and then maybe I’ll let you have a chance to bargain with me.”

  That’s a lie and I feel like an ass just saying it, because I will never let her get away from me. But it has the desired effect and she smirks, letting her eyes take on a light that I haven’t seen in them except for when she’s angry.

  “I don’t have to bargain for squat, mister. You’re committing a crime by keeping me here against my will, and make no mistake, this is against my will. You don’t want any trouble from me. You let me go and we’ll all stay alive. You so much as try anything with me and I will fight you to the death.”

  Damn, looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Wyatt. But what else could I possibly expect? If anything, I’m proud of my baby for being so strong and not folding even though this may be just as scary as the last situation she was in.

  It means she’s smart enough not to just eat one good meal and be reassured and at ease. And that if any other swinging dick comes near her for any reason, she’ll put him down if I’m not close enough to do it.

  Damn, I find her sexy as hell right now, knowing she’s terrified but still gutsy enough to put me in my place.

  Unfortunately for her, I know my place already—in her heart and between her thighs. She’ll learn.

  I know I am a total bastard for this approach, but it’s not like I hadn’t tried the easy approach first. Hell no, I’d been a gentleman about things and tried to ask her out like a normal human being that one morning I’d walked into Susie’s, but she’d totally ignored me, kept her head down, and then eventually told me to screw off.

  After that one failed attempt, I wasn’t about to try coming at her from the front again. This was my only choice and one that has worked out a hell of a lot better than spending months trying to get close to her.

  “Look I know you’re within your rights to be afraid and more than a little pissed right now, and I can’t blame you one bit, but I am not the bad guy. As for not bargaining...” I shrug and take note of her nostrils flaring and the slight tremble running through her. “You had your chance and you just threw it away. So listen up. You’re here. You’re mine. You are not leaving me, ever, and if you harm yourself trying to, it won’t make me very happy. You’re safety is my job and I take it seriously.”

  I stop and start collecting dishes to load the dishwasher before turning back to her with a raised brow.

  “You mother—”

  “Eh, no bad language. I don’t like it on you. Now that that’s taken care of…you want a slice of chocolate cake? My ma made it and had it sent over just for you.”

  Her eyes light up for only a second before dulling. Jesus, I really hate this shit she does, denying herself anything good in life as if letting go of all that strict control will hurt her.

  No one denies my baby anything, least of all her. I just have to see to it that she understands that and doesn’t get ill just to spite me.

  “No thank you.”

  God, manners to the core. I like.

  “Huh. Well, I’m going to have to insist, baby. Ma would be heartbroken if you don’t accept her gift.”

  Like I’d tell the poor old girl, but Ellie doesn’t need to know that.

  “I’m not eating shit I didn’t see you preparing,” she snarls. I have to stop my lips from twitching at her glower.

  Damn, if she keeps this up, I’m not going to be able to keep out of her for long. I’ve never liked mouthy women, but on her I find the mouthy stuff damn near impossible to resist.

  Speaking of that mouth, it’s so plump and soft looking, all I can think about is the way she’ll taste or what all that softness will feel like around my—

  Stop. Not the time, asshole.

  “What did I tell you before, baby? You have to eat, if only to keep yourself strong to argue with me.” I slide the plate under her nose and pick up my own, leaning back against the counter to watch.

  She ignores it all and shoves her nose in the air, but I feel her vibes and see the fear she’s trying to hide when the pulse in her neck starts pounding.

  “Here.”

  I use my fork and spear a bite of her cake, even licking the tines clean to show her that I haven’t drugged or poisoned it.

  “See? Just good old chocolate cake, baby. Eat up, you do not wanna miss Ma’s baking. The woman has a gift.”

  That comment gets me the slightest lip twitch before she picks up her fork and takes a miniscule taste. Her moan, even though she tries to cut it off, goes straight to my groin, and I make a note of every sigh, sound, and facial expression when the flavor hits her tongue and she all but attacks the cake.

  Good girl.

  “Is your mother Ina Garten?” she asks, and my heart tries to burst at that little show of give.

  Now I know it’s not much, but her talking voluntarily to me is a big step because Ellie doesn’t do that with anyone, and I reckon her doing it with some guy who kidnapped her shows just how much my patience is paying off.

  “Nah, but I bet she’s probably better. This cake was a quick deal. You’ll get to taste better later. You want to watch some TV or something?”

  I see it’s too soon when her shoulders tense and that dead expression falls back over her eyes.

  “Why?”

  I know what she’s asking, and I could probably sidestep the whole issue and mess with her a little, but my baby is too fragile right now. I get right to the point.

  “I saw you, I wanted you, and now I have you. Simple. Now don’t get mad, baby, I did try to talk to you once, do this the right way, but you shut me down. So I had to watch and plan to get your attention.”

  “You…you watched me?”

  Don’t be scared, I was just watching over you, baby.

  “Yup, and you know what I saw? I saw a beautiful woman trying to cut herself off from life. I can’t have that, not when I know you used to be a fucking star before. Don’t start yelling. Like I said, I’m not gonna hurt you, and all I want is some time to prove that. Now, TV or a board game?”

  A shrug is all I get but I can deal. At least she never once tried to stab me with the fork I gave her. To me, her passing that little test is progress. I can work with that.

  Chapter Three

  Ellie

  This dude is straight-up nuts, that’s all I can think as he sits on his side of the sofa laughing his ass off at some dubbed karate movie that I haven’t followed a minute of.

  How can I when my nerves are strung taught and my heart is still trying to beat its way out of my chest? But when another ten minutes pass without him so much as looking my way, I feel myself relax into the armrest I’m leaning against.

  With my stomach full of the best food and cake I’ve had in years, and my mind clear of all the drugs he pumped into me, I’m in my zone and clearheaded enough to actually stop and think.

  That’s when it all hits me. He hasn’t touched me in any way, he’s feeding me as opposed to starving me like that ass Bolton had, and he’s gone so far as to have his mom bake me a cake.

  That’s weird as hell, I have to admit, but it gives him an air of safeness that I’m struggling against.

  If his mother’s sending me dessert, she must know about me in some sense, and that means he’s lied to her or they’re all a bunch of lunatics.

  The movie lasts another half hour or so, and I have to stop a smile when he starts ad-libbing in an accent.

  When it ends, he stands with a groan and stretches. Instead of being afraid of all that muscle and strength, I just sit and gape when I catch a peek of his abs.

  Once upon a time I would have been into this guy. I mean, I’ve never been that girl who only cares about looks. After all, my favorite of the two boyfriends I’ve had was not easy on the eyes, but damn was Dev smart and his sense of humor just did it for me.

  Too bad even plain guys expect sex, and at eighteen, that was not on the table. Tav was good, too—athletic, a little dim, but nice all the same. I loved spending time with him, but when there were no sparks
that night he tried to get in my pants, the relationship fizzled.

  I always end up with the nice guys, but damn are the bad boys attractive, and this guy is no slouch in any of those departments. Too bad I’m not me anymore, and he’s my kidnapper.

  And I’m damaged beyond repair.

  “You ready for bed, baby?” he asks after a few minutes of stretching and giving me a show.

  I practically have to roll my tongue back into my mouth to swallow past the lump of fear in my throat. Does he plan to sleep with me?

  Oh hell no! As it is, I’ll be lucky if my eyes let me blink, never mind sleep, and he wants me to lie beside him in a bed without having nightmares about him going all serial-killing, ax murderer on me!

  “Er…you locking me back in that room?”

  That gets me a smirk and a quirked brow.

  “Nope.”

  Huh. So informative this one is. (Spoken in a Yoda voice.)

  I cough twice.

  “You are not sleeping in the same bed, room, or square footage as me.”

  Remember what happened the last time a guy found you hot?

  Oh yeah. Not something I’m likely to forget this century, and not something I’m looking to repeat, even if he does seem somewhat normal and nice and not into stabbing me to death with an ice pick.

  “Ellie, baby, princess, I’ll sleep wherever I please and you can’t do a damn thing about it. Considering that I know you and that I know, without a doubt, that the minute I leave you alone you’ll be trying to get out of here, I’m pretty sure that you’ll be sleeping beside me, handcuffed to me for the next little while. Stop pouting and glaring at me, baby, you can’t win this one.”

  With that dictate, he stalks closer, throws me over his shoulder, and proceeds to lug my protesting form out of the huge living room, up the stairs, and down a long corridor to a master bedroom that’s big enough for two and a half of my apartments to fit into comfortably.

  “Shut it,” he yells when I start cursing a blue streak and pounding at his lower back.

  “No, you! Put me down, you behemoth!”