by HELEN HARDT
“Someone drugged and poisoned our son.” From his father. A statement, not a question.
“It appears that way. I’m so sorry. Please, follow me. I’ll take you to him.”
I gulped. “I want to see him.”
“No,” his father said. “You’ve done enough.”
“I assure you my son has done nothing.” When had my father walked over? “He’d like to see his best friend. To say goodbye.”
“No,” Mr. Murphy said again flatly. “Our son’s last moments are for us.”
“Doctor…” I began.
“I’m sorry. It’s his parents’ call.”
“But he’s an adult.”
“And they are his next of kin. I’m sorry.” The doctor led the Murphys out of the waiting room.
“Wait!” My father walked swiftly through the door.
I sat down in the closest chair, my whole body numb.
Murph.
Murph was dying.
Someone had drugged and poisoned him. Heroin. Botulism. My mind raced. The heroin to make sure this happened at the wedding because no one knew when the botulism would kick in. Then the botulism—enough to take down a healthy and robust twenty-two-year-old.
The only person I knew of who might be capable of such a heinous act was locked up and medicated.
Several minutes later, my father returned. “Go ahead back, son. You can see him.”
“How…?”
“Money talks,” he said dryly. “They’re a hundred grand richer.”
“You spent a hundred grand so I could see Murph?”
“Money well spent. Go see him. Tell him goodbye.”
I nodded and walked through the door. The doctor and the Murphys stood outside an ICU room.
“Thank you for letting me do this,” I said.
“Your father made a strong argument,” Mr. Murphy said. “Go in. You have two minutes. The rest of the time is for his mother and me.”
I nodded. How could I argue? I walked into the room. Murph was hooked up to all kinds of beeping machines.
His eyes were closed, his skin pale. An oxygen mask covered his face.
“Hey, Murph,” I said.
I’d begged for this, and now I had no idea what to say.
“I’m so sorry this happened. I’ll find out who did this to you, and they’ll pay. I swear to God, they’ll pay.” I moved to squeeze his hand but held back. An IV line stopped me. “Thank you for being my best man. You’ve been the greatest friend a guy could ask for. I’m going to miss you.”
Crying is for girls.
Words of wisdom from my father. He’d said them for as long as I could remember.
I sniffed back a tear.
I wasn’t going to succumb now. I’d be strong. Not just for Daphne and my unborn kid but now for Murph as well. I’d find out how this happened and take care of whoever was responsible.
I’d avenge my friend.
If it was the last thing I did.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Daphne
Something nudged me.
I jerked upward.
“It’s just me, baby.”
“Brad!” I melted into his arms. “How’s Sean?”
Brad cupped my cheek. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this. He…didn’t make it.”
What? Confusion muddled my brain. I hadn’t heard him right. That was it. It had to be. “He just had too much to drink. That’s all.”
“Baby, he had a beer. One beer.” Brad kissed the top of my head. “He was drugged. Heroin.”
“But he doesn’t—”
“Do drugs. No, he doesn’t. He was also poisoned. The doctors might have been able to save him if it had only been the drugs, but the poison killed him. His body just shut down.”
This wasn’t happening. Nothing bad had happened at my wedding. This was a dream.
No, a nightmare. A really bad nightmare.
Except that it wasn’t anything like my normal nightmares. I wasn’t running from something that scared me only to wake up and not remember who or what was responsible for my torment.
No, this was real-life torment.
Real life…
“Who would…? Why would…?” I couldn’t grasp the words I wanted.
“I don’t know, baby. But I assure you that I’ll find out. I’m going to put the best PIs in the business on this. I owe that to Murph.”
“Brad, I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either, Daphne.”
“Our wedding…”
“It was beautiful. We have to remember the beautiful parts.”
The beautiful parts? No sooner had we exchanged vows than I had passed out. But that was the least of the problems.
Brad kissed the top of my head again. Then he pulled back from me a bit and met my gaze. His eyes were sunken and sad. He pressed his lips to mine. They were wet. His cheeks were streaked. Had he been crying?
Somehow I’d never thought of Brad crying. He seemed so strong. So very strong.
Of course, he’d literally just lost his best friend.
He needed me to be strong now, and I wouldn’t let him down. I’d vowed once never to be a colorless flower again. I’d become one, if only for a moment, on my own wedding day.
That self-indulgence was over.
I’d be strong for my baby. Strong for the man I loved. I pulled his face toward mine and kissed him. Hard.
He pulled away. “I need you so much right now.”
“I’m here for you. Take whatever you need from me.”
“My God.” He slammed his lips back down on mine.
I opened for him, let him take my mouth with his tongue and teeth. It was a hard kiss. A raw kiss. A kiss of need and ache.
A kiss of life.
He was proving to himself that he was alive because Sean wasn’t.
I melted into the kiss, let him take what he wanted, needed, desired.
Was my door locked?
I didn’t know. Didn’t particularly care at the moment.
The only thing I wanted was to ease Brad’s pain.
He moved quickly, nearly tearing my pajamas from my body and then unzipping his trousers. Within seconds he was inside me, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…
Grunting, grunting, grunting…
Then releasing.
Releasing inside me.
It was that fast.
And I was happy to give him what he so desperately needed.
“God, baby,” he rasped against my ear. “I needed that. I needed you.”
I stroked his hair. “It’s okay.”
“I’ll take care of you in a minute, okay?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I want to. I just needed… I just…”
“It’s okay,” I said again, still stroking his hair. “I’m here.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Daphne. You make me whole, and I need to be whole right now.”
“You were always whole, Brad.”
“I thought I was, but I wasn’t. I am now.”
His words played in my mind, and I understood.
Fate.
Destiny.
We completed each other.
We were whole with each other.
I smiled against his cheek. “You’re still wearing your tux. When does it have to be returned to the rental place?”
“It doesn’t,” he said. “It’s mine. Though it’s completely ruined now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you kidding? This tux is the last thing I’m concerned about. Just let me lie here for a few minutes. I need to hold you in my arms.”
“I need that too.”
And I did. More than I needed more kisses or an orgasm. I needed to be in Brad’s arms, comforting him and getting comfort from him.
In a few seconds, Brad had fallen asleep.
I woke up an hour later with Brad still asleep next to me, his trousers still unzipped and his boxers around his hips.
He looked troubled even in sleep.
I ached to take his pain away, but what could I do?
His dick lay flaccid. I tentatively reached toward it. What would it feel like against my fingers?
I touched it. It was smooth and soft, but just my touch made it harden a little. I continued to play with it, rubbing my thumb over the tip, and within a few minutes, it was large and hard in my hand.
We hadn’t had a traditional wedding night. That ship had sailed, but perhaps I could give him a gift I’d never given anyone.
I leaned down and took his dick between my lips.
It was hot and smooth against my tongue.
A groan rumbled from his throat and through his body. Was he awake? I wasn’t sure.
I trailed kisses over the head and down the shaft.
“Morning, baby.”
So he was awake after all.
I swirled my tongue around him and then took him as far into my mouth as I could.
He groaned again.
Now that he was well lubricated, I added my hand for extra stimulation. This was new to me, but I was determined. I loved this man, and I wanted to please him.
Another groan.
Another, “God, baby.”
Then—
“Fuck.” He pushed me off his dick. “Can’t. I won’t last long.”
“That’s okay,” I said, a little perplexed.
“You’re not ready for me to—”
“I’m ready for whatever you want me to do, Brad. I’m your wife. I love you. Just tell me what you want.”
“I want to come in your mouth.”
I inhaled sharply. Yes, I could do that for him, for the man I adored. “O-Okay.”
“It’s all right. We’ll work up to that. Right now I need to be inside you one way or the other. Come here.” He pulled me onto him. “Get on top of me.”
I straddled him as he held his dick. I slipped down onto him and let out a low moan.
He filled me so completely, eased the emptiness I never knew I had.
“You feel so good, baby. God, I need you. Need you to chase the pain away.”
“I’m here for you,” I said. “Always. I love you, Brad.”
“I love you too, baby. So fucking much.” He thrust his hips upward, ramming into me.
My own hips seemed to move on their own, meeting Brad’s thrusts and creating a rhythm that touched every millimeter inside me. I closed my eyes, and his warm hands found my breasts, my nipples. When he tugged sharply on one, a blast of pleasure hit me.
I came.
I came hard.
I came fast.
I came with a fierceness I’d never known.
Words left my throat—unintelligible words that were a jumble of coiled emotions. I soared above the mountaintops for a few blissful seconds, reveling in Brad’s thrusts. When he finally released, I fell onto his chest and pressed our mouths together.
We kissed as our climaxes ended.
Together.
Then a knock on the door.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Brad
Daphne froze on top of me.
“It’s okay, baby,” I said.
“But what if someone finds us together? In bed?”
Normally I’d have chuckled, but laughter seemed out of the question given all the circumstances. “We’re married. Remember?”
She gasped. “Of course. Still, I’m naked, Brad, and your pants are around your knees.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I rolled off the bed and adjusted my trousers. Then I threw Daphne her pajamas. She hastily scrambled into them. I walked to the door and opened it.
My mother stood there. “I’m sorry to interrupt, darling, but Daphne’s parents are getting ready to leave, and they want to say goodbye.”
“Sure. Of course. You ready, Daphne?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m so sorry about Sean,” Mom said.
I simply nodded. I couldn’t think about that right now. I had to put on a brave face for Jonathan and Lucy.
Daphne and I followed Mom to the kitchen. My father was at the head of the table drinking coffee. Jonathan and Lucy sat silently.
I cleared my throat.
Jonathan stood. “I’m sorry about your friend, Brad.”
“Thank you.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Could I speak to you alone for a moment? In private?”
I looked to my father. He nodded slightly at me.
“Of course. Follow me.” I led him to my father’s office.
We entered, and he and I sat opposite each other in two leather chairs.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’m concerned. Your father told us that Sean was drugged and poisoned.”
I nodded.
“I’m trusting you to take care of my daughter.”
“Of course. I already promised I would.”
“You didn’t take the greatest care of your friend. Someone drugged and poisoned him at your wedding.”
A sliver of anger coiled in my belly but quickly dissipated. I didn’t have the strength to be angry at the moment. I was too fucking sad. “It could have happened in town,” I said. “We just don’t know—”
“Brad, listen to me. I’m a patient man. I’ve had to be, to deal with Daphne’s issues and now Lucy’s. I’ve had to be loving and patient when sometimes I didn’t want to be. Sometimes I wanted to scream and punch something and run away from it all. It can be a lot to deal with.”
“I understand.” He had no idea.
“Do you? Because I didn’t succumb to those urges to punch walls. To run away. I stayed put, I maintained composure, because my family needed me.”
“I’ll do the same.”
“You’re a young man, Brad. So young yet.”
“I assure you my father and I—”
“Daphne isn’t your father’s responsibility, young man. She’s yours.”
“That’s not what I meant.” The anger threatened to coil once more. I liked Jonathan, but he was treating me like a child.
“Look. I like you. I do. But a man is dead, Brad. Can you tell me with certainty that my daughter is safe here?”
“With all due respect, Jonathan, she’s my wife now. I’ve told you I’ll take care of her, and I’ll tell you again. She and the baby are my first priority.”
“You’re going to see to her needs, then? Not go off avenging your friend?”
I don’t see why I can’t do both. I didn’t voice the words, though. “My father and I will investigate Sean’s death, of course. Would you rather we not? I can’t believe that of you.”
“I expect you to investigate. We all want to know what happened to prevent it from happening again. But you’re young. Don’t forget. I was young once too, and I know how easy it is to go off half-cocked when you’re angry.”
“You and I are two different people, Jonathan.”
“Maybe. I’m not so sure, though.”
I’m not so sure, though.
What the hell did that mean? Was there a side to Jonathan I wasn’t seeing? Something my father was looking into?
Maybe, but I couldn’t deal with the possibility at the moment.
“This conversation is over, I think.” I stood. “I will take care of Daphne and the baby. You have my word.”
He rose as well and nodded. “You take care of your wife, and I’ll take care of mine. Deal?”
“That was always the deal, Jonathan. Nothing has changed.”
Except that it had. Murph was gone. Dead.
And I would avenge him.
Jonathan was wrong about me.
I could take care of Daphne and avenge Murphy.
I could do both.
I could do it all, and I damned well would.
I had a lot to think about.
One thing I knew for sure. I needed to build a legacy for my wife and child, and to do that, I needed all information at my disposal.
Which meant one thing.
Daphne and I weren’t going back to college.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Daphne
Eight Months Later…
He was perfect.
My perfect little dove.
He was a boy, as I’d always known, and though I’d gone through the worst pain imaginable to bring him into this world, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.
I’d chosen his name a few weeks earlier.
Jonah, which meant dove, because he’d always be my little dove. His middle name was Bradford after his father.
Jonah Bradford Steel.
My son.
My beautiful son.
Brad had let me name him, said I’d do a better job than he ever could.
“It’s a perfect name,” he told me. “For our perfect child.”
I held my newborn son and gazed down at his full head of dark hair. His eyes were dark blue, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that they’d turn dark brown like his father’s.
“Are you hungry, little dove?”
The nurses had shown me how to breastfeed him, and though we hadn’t had a lot of luck at first, he was finally getting the hang of it. My nipples were sore as all get-out, but they’d toughen up, everyone promised.
Didn’t matter. I didn’t care. All that mattered was Jonah. If I had to deal with sore nipples for him to get the nutrition to begin his growth into a strong man like his father, that was what I’d do.
I’d been home from the hospital a day now. My mother was visiting, and she and Mazie hovered over me and little Joe like flies milling around honey. I was happy to have them here.
My one regret?
George hadn’t lived to see the grandson he’d wanted so badly.
He’d succumbed to a heart attack a month before little Joe’s birth.
Now Brad—my sweet husband—owned the Steel ranch.
All of it.
George’s legacy was now Brad’s legacy.
The doorbell rang. I stood, ready to place little Joe in his bassinet, but Mazie was already sailing toward the door. “Sit down, dear. I’ll get that.”
Happy to keep my child in my arms a little longer, I sat.
A few minutes later, Mazie bustled back to the family room. “Visitors!”