[The Billionaire's Obsession 01.0] Simon

by JS Scott

  His detaining hold was gentle. She tugged lightly and he released her, a pleading look in his eyes. Dammit. She couldn’t leave Sam thinking that this was all his fault. It wasn’t. She was in love with Simon Hudson and it would have ended up a disaster even if Sam hadn’t caused things to fall apart. His actions had only hastened the bad ending. “It isn’t you, Sam. It isn’t what you did.” Shaking her head, she reached for her backpack.

  “What is it? Tell me. I’ll fix it.” He sounded desperate.

  She barked a short, humorless laugh. Maybe the brothers weren’t so different after all. He sounded just like Simon. Did they both think they could fix anything with money? “You can’t. Just know that it isn’t your fault.”

  Nope. It’s my fault for being stupid enough to fall for Simon Hudson.

  “You don’t like or respect me at all, do you?” He sounded resigned and slightly dejected.

  She turned her body toward him as she scooted to the edge of her seat with her backpack. “I don’t know you well enough to like or dislike you. And money doesn’t buy respect for me.” Her lips turned up in a slight smile as she saw his surprised expression. “But I do respect you a lot for loving your brother.”

  He stared at her as he answered gruffly, “Who says I love him? He’s a pain in the ass and he messed up my face so bad that I couldn’t step outside the house for a week.”

  She gave him a sad smile and placed her hand over his on the table. “I’m sorry. I know you and Simon are close and I would never want to be the cause of any problems in your relationship.”

  Sam shrugged. “We’ve been through tough times before. We’ll get through it.”

  She pulled her hand back. “Are you speaking?”

  He laughed weakly. “Trading insults. It’s a start.”

  “Do you know what happened to him? How he got scarred?” The words flew from her mouth before she could censor them.

  Sam’s jaw dropped, his expression shocked. “You’ve seen his scars? All of them? Is that why you’re avoiding him?”

  Anger simmered and her palm itched to slap his face all over again. “Jesus, do you think every woman is that superficial?” Trying to get a grip on her irritation, she continued. “Your brother is the most attractive man I have ever met, scars or no scars. He’s hot enough to melt glaciers in Antarctica. Obviously, he suffered a severe trauma and I hate that for him. But I don’t give a damn about his scars.”

  “You think he’s better looking than I am?” The question was arrogant, but Sam sounded damned delighted by the fact that she was hot for his brother.

  “Yes. No contest. Sorry.” Her answer came out severe, but she was a little touched by the fond look in Sam’s eyes. Chewing her lip, deep in thought, she mused aloud. “I wonder if you could give Simon something for me.”

  Sam shrugged and looked at her with curiosity. “What?”

  “A check. I need to pay him.”

  Sam snickered, his lips forming into a wicked grin. “That good, was it?”

  “He put money in my account. I want him to have most of it back. I intend to pay back the rest later when I get a job.” Kara ignored his innuendo. Simon’s brother might look like a blond angel, but she already knew that he had a set of devil horns hidden somewhere in those loose, abundant curls.

  “You want to pay Simon? Newsflash…in case you didn’t realize it, he’s a billionaire. If he wanted you to have the money, I’m not taking it.” He put his hands up in the air in a defensive gesture. “He’d really chew my ass up and spit it out. He’s in a lousy mood.”

  Her shoulders sagging, she gave him a flimsy smile. “Yeah. I didn’t think about that. I don’t want him mad at you. I just wanted to get it back to him.”

  “Without having to see him?” Sam hit the nail on the head. “Guess you’ll just have to do it personally.” He sounded pretty happy about that whole idea.

  “I’d better get moving. I have studying to do.” She stood up.

  Sam rose and stared down at her. “Are you living with Maddie Reynolds? Redhead? Beautiful?” He breathed the last two words reverently.

  “Yes.” She was surprised. Sam didn’t sound nearly as hostile toward Maddie as her friend was toward Sam.

  “How is she?” He was trying to sound nonchalant, but there was a brief glint of pain in his hooded eyes.

  Kara hesitated, not wanting to betray Maddie. “She’s good. She has a private practice and does some work in a free children’s clinic.”

  “She made it. She graduated from medical school.” Sam’s answer was quiet, almost as if he were talking to himself. He sounded like he admired Maddie.

  “Yep. One of the best and kindest physicians I’ve ever met. And an awesome friend.” Sam looked like he wanted to ask more questions that Kara didn’t care to answer, so she scooted in front of him and headed for the door. “Take care, Sam. Bye.” She dropped her empty cup in the trash without breaking her stride and pushed on the heavy glass door.

  It was dark as Kara slid outside, heaving a large sigh of relief as the light wind hit her in the face.

  Everything and nothing had changed as a result of her conversation with Sam. While she was very glad that Simon hadn’t set up a liaison with the woman at the party, it didn’t alter the fact that she was just too emotionally involved with a man who didn’t do relationships. It was either going to hurt now or destroy her later. Simon was kind and Sam had said that Simon cared about her. Maybe it was true, but it wasn’t enough.

  Please come home.

  That line from Simon’s letter echoed in her head as a fist clenched around her heart, making it hard to breathe. Oh God, how she wanted to go home, back to Simon. They had started…something. He had trusted her, let her touch his naked flesh, let her see his scars, fucked her without restraints. How she wished she had the courage to finish it, help Simon find freedom from his past. But her self-preservation instinct was fierce, warning her away from danger, letting her know that in helping Simon, loving Simon, she would destroy herself.

  She set her emotionally spent body in motion, heading toward Maddie’s house. Lost in thought, her spirits low, she wasn’t very aware of her surroundings. That was a mistake that Kara, a woman who had been raised in a less than desirable area, usually didn’t make. The lack of concentration bit her in the ass.

  Two men approached quickly, one on each side. Her arms were seized and she was being dragged along the sidewalk before she even realized what had happened. She struggled, kicking out at the brutal men who were hauling her forcefully forward, trying to wrench her arms from their grips. With startled horror, she realized that they were pushing her toward a dark vehicle at the curb, the back door open, ready to claim her.

  It was dark, but the area was lit just enough to see the faces of the two men who had broken into the clinic.

  They’ll kill me. I’ll die. Have to fight.

  She screamed without pause, trying to make her voice carry to anyone who was in the area, as she kicked out, trying to hit vulnerable places on the two hulking males.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch,” a menacing, foreboding voice grunted as her foot connected with his kneecap, an action that earned her a punch to the face.

  Momentarily stunned from the powerful blow, she faltered as they shoved her forward.

  Fight, damn it. Fight.

  As the junkies hefted her body to toss her into the car, she raised her legs and planted her feet, one on the door, the other on the body of the car next to the open entrance.

  Don’t let them get you into the car. If you do, you’re dead.

  Her feet slipped, sliding lower as one of the men grabbed her by the hair and started slamming her head against the metal top of the open door. She could hear the horrific sound of her skull cracking against steel and her head swam, her vision starting to blur.

  I should have told Simon that I loved
him.

  She was still screaming, but the sound weakened as the men continued their ruthless attempt to render her unconscious.

  “Fucking bastards!” Another male voice sounded, one that she recognized.

  A muscular arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her away from the two thugs. She was quickly jerked back against a hard chest, her head spinning like she was on a tilt-a-whirl. Looking up, her vision spinning, she could make out Sam Hudson’s furious face as he lowered her gently to the sidewalk and sprinted back to the car.

  Panic rose as she realized that Sam was going to take on the two men by himself. Amazingly, the men looked unsure of what to do. Sam was slightly larger, but there were two of them.

  Gotta help him. Gotta get up.

  She couldn’t let Sam get killed after he had saved her life. Kara came to her knees, trying desperately to fight her obscured vision. Unable to stand, she started to crawl just as Sam engaged the first man, landing punishing blows to his face.

  Pounding feet approached, hitting the pavement beside her. Two men she didn’t recognize entered the fray, grabbing Sam’s arm and subduing the man who Sam was hammering on.

  “Don’t hurt Sam,” she whimpered, afraid they might injure Sam in the confusion.

  “Sorry, sir. Didn’t recognize you.” The man released Sam’s arm.

  One bad guy was on his stomach on the sidewalk, with one of the newcomers that had entered the fray on top of him. The other bad guy was scrambling into the driver’s seat of the car, a gun waving wildly at Sam and her other rescuer.

  “No. No.” Tears were flowing down her cheeks, her heart slamming against her chest as she silently pleaded with Sam and the other innocent man not to provoke the junkie with the gun.

  Sam lunged, but the man had already hit the gas and the dark vehicle sped into the night, the door yanking closed as he flew down the street, disappearing almost as fast as she could blink.

  Her terrified eyes raking over the scene, she saw that the two rescuers and Sam were unharmed, though Sam was releasing a stream of obscenities as he raced to her side.

  “Kara! Are you ok? Fuck! Your head is pouring blood. What were you doing?” Sam gently lowered her to the sidewalk to rest on her back. He continued to whisper soothing words as he pushed her hair from her face.

  “Wanted to help you,” she rasped, her throat dry.

  “Crazy woman.” Sam shook his head, but his voice was light and sweet. Then, in a harsh, booming voice he ordered, “Get an ambulance. Now. She’s hurt.”

  Darkness started to encroach on her vision and she struggled, determined not to lose consciousness. “Tell Simon…” Her voice trailed off, her mouth so dry that her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered. She tried to focus on Sam, but he became just a large, unfocused blur.

  She sighed as Sam clasped her hand and grumbled. “You can tell him yourself. He’s on his way and pissed as hell.”

  Simon’s coming?

  Her heart skipped a beat and she gave Sam’s hand a feeble squeeze as a humming noise started in her head. It grew louder, so loud that she could barely make out the sound of approaching sirens that were screaming through the night.

  “Kara. Are you still with me?” Sam’s voice sounded panicked and desperate. And distant.

  A blanket of darkness completely consumed her as the low-pitched droning sound in her head reached the very top of its crescendo.

  “Simon.” She whispered his name, not knowing if it was even audible, as she slid into complete darkness and blessed silence.

  ~*~ The End ~*~

  Kara opened her eyes slowly, blinking several times to clear her blurred vision, and feeling like her head was in a vise. Temporarily disoriented, she lifted her hand to her head, poking at it experimentally, only to feel her forehead wrapped with gauze. What the hell?

  Her memory returned slowly, trickling back in bits and pieces. Sam and his apology. The attack. Sam and two other unknown men saving her life.

  She remembered waking briefly several times in the Emergency Room, Simon right next to her, holding her hand, murmuring encouraging words while she...oh God...had she really thrown up all over him?

  Right after the attack, everything had been so intense: the dizziness, the nausea, the blurred vision, the desire to escape back into the darkness and blissful relief of sleep.

  Her surroundings were dim, the only light illuminating what appeared to be a hospital room with a small square and narrow overhead light near the door.

  Her eyes scanned the room. It was set up for double occupancy, but the bed beside her was empty and completely undisturbed.

  Compared to the way she had felt in the Emergency Room, the headache she was experiencing seemed like a major improvement. Her stomach was slightly queasy and she had obviously suffered an open wound to her forehead, but she was still alive. She sucked in a deep, tremulous breath, releasing it slowly as a wave of adrenaline washed over her body; clearly she was experiencing some delayed anxiety from the experience that had happened...uh...when?

  Crap...I really need to get my head together!

  Squinting at the clock, she could see that it was four a.m. Nine hours had passed since the terrifying experience that had left her alone in a hospital room, thanking the Almighty that she was still among the living.

  She flinched as she moved her left arm, stretching the tubing of the I.V. inserted in the back of her hand, causing stress at the insertion site. Damn, that hurt. Replacing the limb to its former position, she attempted to cautiously stretch her other arm, finding it trapped, encapsulated inside a large, strong, warm prison.

  “Simon,” she whispered softly, suddenly realizing that she wasn’t alone, her eyes landing on the place where their skin touched, finding his fingers entwined with hers, his head resting next to their joined hands, his eyes closed.

  Her heart contracted as her gaze swept over him, taking in every feature of his beloved, handsome face. She drank in the sight of him, feeling as if it had been forever since she had seen that handsome face. Even in sleep, he looked tense and fierce, the lock of wayward hair that slithered over his forehead the only thing that softened his appearance in slumber.

  Slowly disentangling their entwined fingers, she stroked his hair back, enjoying the texture of the thick, disheveled strands between her fingers.

  Had he been here all night? Had he ever left the hospital?

  He was dressed in a pair of light blue hospital scrubs, a sure sign that her memory of tossing her cookies down the front of what was probably a very expensive sweater was probably accurate.

  I love you.

  The recollection that she had spoken those words between retching violently and feeling like she was about to die made her hand stop pawing his hair and her body tense with trepidation.

  Oh God, did I really say those words to him?

  Yeah, she had said them-the memory flashed vividly in her mind. Knowing that she had babbled that particular phrase to him, she pulled her hand completely away, wondering how he had taken those words, or if he had even really heard them. At the time, she had been desperate to say them, to let him know how she felt in case she didn’t make it through the night. With no idea what her injuries actually were, she hadn’t hesitated to say them, didn’t want something to happen without him knowing how much she cared.

  Now that she knew that she was obviously going to live, she wasn’t so sure that she should have confessed, bared her soul.

  “Kara!” Simon shot up into a sitting position, his hand reaching reflexively for hers, twining their fingers back together. He was instantly awake, his eyes jerking to her face, scanning it with obvious unease. “You’re awake.”

  Her throat was dry; her tongue felt like it was swollen enough to take up the entire space of her oral cavity. She reached for a cup of water from the bedside table. Simon sprang
from his chair, reaching it first, unwrapping a straw and placing it into the plastic cup, before directing it to her mouth. She took slow sips, her hand covering his as she let the moisture slide over her tongue. “Where am I?” she asked quietly, licking the moisture from her lips.

  He told her what hospital was she in and explained that her CT scan was normal, but that they were keeping her overnight for observation. “You have several stitches from a cut on your forehead. From what Sam told me, you’re damn lucky they didn’t crack your skull.” Simon’s voice was rough and slightly irritated.

  “I have a hard head,” she answered lightly, remembering the force of the blows, amazed that she had suffered nothing more than a few stitches and a hammering headache.

  He shot her an aggravated look. “Like I haven’t noticed?” Setting the glass down on the bedside table, his eyes locked with hers, staring intently, his gaze like liquid fire. “You’re never leaving me again. Ever.”

  Her breath hitched as she looked at him, fascinated, unable to break the compelling, silent communication. “Forever is a long time,” she answered, unable to come up with a more intelligent response while his eyes were shooting volatile sparks, a clear warning he was about to get stubborn.

  “I don’t give a fuck. You’re going back home with me, and I’m not leaving your safety in the hands of a few green security agents. If Sam hadn’t been there...”

  “He saved my life, Simon. Your brother risked his life for me,” she murmured, silently thanking Sam for being there, for getting to her before those men had gotten her into the car.

  I’d be dead if he hadn’t.

  Running a frustrated hand through his already-tortured hair, he growled, “He damn well should have seen you home. And the security guys were inexperienced. They should have been tailing you so close that they could hear you breathe. Their reaction time was unacceptable.”