Embattled Home (7 page)

She couldn’t even remember. Too long.

She looked down at the t-shirt she’d worn to bed. Blood from her bloody nose had dripped down onto her breast, then dried brown. Gross. There were other things on her she didn’t even want to look at. She thought one of the guards had been in the room as well. Had he taken part in decorating her? She couldn’t remember. If he had it had been when she’d been unconscious.

She eased forward onto her feet, moaning as her internals settled low. Fluid flowed down her thighs. Somebody had penetrated her.

Disgust coated her tongue as she caught sight of herself in the mirrored closet doors.

Lora realized she was standing at the used dresser in her new house, looking into the glass, fists clenched at her sides. She exhaled the stale air in her lungs and wondered how long she’d been out of it. She hated the dream but didn’t know how to change it. The same scene had played over and over again in real life until it was ingrained in her gut.

Derek had kept her under his thumb for three years. That first rape had caused her to miscarry the baby she’d been so excited to tell him about. He’d blamed her, of course, because she hadn’t told him about it right away. Depression had been her constant companion then, eating at her will to live.

Six months later she’d gotten pregnant again, in spite of the furtive precautions she’d taken. One of the hardest decisions of her life was to decide whether or not to tell him about the pregnancy. Eventually she did and, to her complete shock, the abuse stopped completely. Rosalind treated her with a tiny bit of respect and things felt like they were looking up.

Derek wanted to name the baby Mercedes after his favorite brand of car. When she’d looked at him as if he were out of his mind, the flash of rage in his eyes made her fear for her safety. And that of the child’s. So she’d bitten her tongue and gone along with what he wanted. Again.

When the baby was born, they’d gone through an almost honeymoon-like phase. They nurtured the child and spent some good, quality time together. But it hadn’t lasted. Within a few months, they’d gone back to the way things were before.

Lora shook off the melancholy. She had things to do and wallowing in the past wasn’t getting her anywhere.

*     *     *

Six hours after
he left Denver, Duncan walked into Truman Medical Center. Dr. Hartfield had left permission for him to see Willingham, though he wasn’t technically family. The volunteer gave him directions and pointed out the elevator.

As Duncan limped off onto the seventh floor, it was hard not to be sucked under by his own memories as the smell seeped into his lungs. After so many years, he thought it would be easier, but no. Every time one of his guys got hurt, or somebody needed something for a vet, he was there to lend a hand or a shoulder.

Blue signs counted down the room numbers, odd numbers on one side, even on the other. Seven twenty-eight was directly across from the nurse’s station and had a glass window. Had Willingham really been causing them so many problems they needed to watch him twenty-four seven?

Apparently. Duncan cringed when he realized the man’s arms and feet were buckled to the bed with leather straps. “Fuck.”

Aiden appeared to be deeply asleep. It gave Duncan a chance to look him over and he was dismayed at the change in the man. He’d lost a lot of weight, and even beneath the beard his skin looked sallow, as if his body were fighting off a deadly disease.

A nurse stepped into the room. “Are you Mr. Wilde? The doctor told me to page her when you got in.”

“I am.”

She tossed him a smile and left to page the doctor.

Duncan circled the bed and reached out to rest his hand on Aiden’s bony shoulder. “Hey, buddy. Looks like you’ve had a heck of a time recently. We’ll get you fixed up.”

There was no reaction physically, but Duncan thought perhaps he breathed a little bit easier. He sat in the plastic chair beside the bed to wait for the doctor.

Duncan had answered all the emails and messages he could on his phone and was debating going to find coffee when a woman entered the room. Tall and lean, her dark auburn hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. Heavy, black-framed glasses covered her eyes and she seemed very young. But she approached him like she owned the place. “Mr. Wilde? Dr. Alex Hartfield. Nice to meet you.”

She shook his hand and turned to the figure on the bed. “I assume this is your Mr. Willingham?”

Duncan nodded. “It is. Definitely leaner and a little more cleaned up. He was homeless when I met him.”

The doctor cringed. “Well, that would explain his leanness. I have a feeling this guy’s been in a lot of other crap, though, because he has serious scars all over his body. Knife wounds, bullet wounds. It looks like his ankle has been rebuilt at some point. Knee’s been ripped up. He has surgery scars on his right shoulder. Marks on his wrists as if he were bound for a long time.”

Duncan cringed, wishing he knew the man’s history. If he had to guess, it sounded like Aiden had been Navy SEAL. Or black ops. He’d have to call in some serious favors to find out. Palmer wasn’t going to find anything.

A nurse brought in a syringe and handed it to the doctor. Two burly orderlies stood at the door. Duncan eyed them. “Are those necessary?”

The doctor turned and blinked at him. “They are if he freaks out when I give him this shot and he doesn’t recognize you. I’m hoping for hunky-dory, but expecting a fight.”

Duncan sighed and stepped to the opposite side of the bed, leaving his cane hanging on the bedrail. He rested his hand on Aiden’s shoulder as the doctor injected the IV with part of the shot. “We’ll start with a small dose and see if he rouses.”

A subtle quivering started in his arms.

“You need to step back, doctor.”

The words had no sooner left his mouth than Aiden Willingham was wide awake and fighting the restraints. Duncan pressed against his shoulder but even malnourished the other man had a lot of fight in him. “Willingham! Aiden! Stop. You need to settle down.”

The orderlies started to move in but Duncan waved a hand for them to stay where they were. “Aiden. Look at me.” He pitched his voice low and calm, in spite of the situation. “Aiden, you need to calm down before they knock you out again.”

The leather restraints creaked and snapped as the younger man fought, but something must have filtered in, because his eyes snapped to Duncan’s.

He grinned at him. “You need to settle down, soldier. You’re makin’ these civvies a little jumpy.”

Aiden blinked heavily, then looked at the people grouped around the bed. His head swung back to Duncan. “You need to let me go,” he rasped. His whole body quivered with tension, though he’d stopped thrashing. Muscles bulged in his arms as he pulled against the restraints. “I can’t be tied down. I can’t be tied down.”

Duncan couldn’t help but feel for the guy, and wondered if they weren’t doing him more emotional harm by keeping him restrained. “You need to be calm then. They need to know you’re not going to hurt them or yourself if they let you go.”

Desperation lit Aiden’s brown eyes. “I won’t hurt these people. I swear.”

Duncan believed him, in spite of the evidence to the contrary.

The doctor didn’t look as convinced. “I don’t know. He already hurt one nurse.”

Aiden jerked his gaze to her. “What?”

The doctor nodded. “One of the nurses was knocked down when you were first brought in. She’s fine. Just bruised.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he grimaced. “I’m sorry I knocked her down. I can’t be restrained. It will truly drive me insane.”

Duncan didn’t envy her position. If she let him go and he did hurt somebody, it was her responsibility. She pursed her lips for several long seconds before finally nodding. “You better be a man of your word, Mr. Willingham, because if you hurt one of my people I’ll make sure you’re locked up for a very long time.”

Aiden nodded and some of the tension eased from his body as they leaned in to unfasten him. Everyone in the room held their collective breath when he was finally free, waiting to see what would happen. Grimacing, Aiden sat up in the bed, rubbing his wrists, but he didn’t make any other moves to cause alarm.

The doctor pulled the stethoscope from around her neck and held it up. “Mind if I examine you?”

Aiden stared at her for a long moment before shaking his head.

The examination was quick and perfunctory, but Aiden’s body quaked with tension by the time she was finished and moved away. Duncan eased away just a bit to reach his cane to lean on, his hips aching from holding Aiden to the bed.

Aiden looked up as Duncan moved away and fear flashed through his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. Just adjusting.”

“Where am I?”

“Kansas City, Missouri.”

If he hadn’t been watching, he’d have missed the tightening around the other man’s eyes.

“You apparently climbed in the back of a tractor-trailer to get here.”

Aiden blinked at him but didn’t say anything. He looked over Duncan’s shoulder to the window outside, as if the bleary sky would be able to tell him where he was. “How long have I been here?”

Duncan shrugged. “You’ve been gone from Colorado for several weeks.”

Aiden dropped back against the bed. Though there was no other outward reaction, Duncan thought he was shocked at the amount of time that had passed. “You don’t remember?”

He shook his head.

Duncan could ask him what happened in the alley later, when the people were gone.

The doctor shooed everybody out. “I’m sorry we had to take the steps we did, Mr. Willingham, but I wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt.”

He avoided her gaze but nodded his head. With a final glance she left the room.

Duncan turned and eased down into the chair, legs stretched out in front of him. His hip was aching like a sonofabitch. “So how much of your trip do you remember?”

Shaking his head, Aiden scrubbed his hands over his face. “Not much. Cold. I remember the cold.”

Duncan snorted. “Well, you were damn near a popsicle when you got out here. You’re lucky the driver found you when he did.”

Aiden cringed. “Am I?”

He didn’t like the tone of the other man’s voice. “Yes, you are,” he told him firmly. “Do you have family or someone I need to contact?”

Blankness settled over Aiden’s features. “Nope.”

Though his gaze was steady, Duncan felt like he was being lied to. “Well, if you think of somebody, let me know and I’ll get a hold of them.”

“I won’t.”

He’d gone blank-face and Duncan had a feeling he wouldn’t be forthcoming with anything else about his family situation.

“Were you coming this direction for a reason?”

Aiden stared at him. “Nope.”

Again, deception. But it wasn’t like he had any hold over him. He could lie all he wanted to. “I’m trying to help you out, Aiden.”

“I’m pretty tired. I’d like to sleep for a while.”

Duncan thought about leaning back in the chair and telling him to go ahead, but he didn’t want things to get antagonistic. Instead, he pushed to his feet, fighting to keep the grimace from his face. “Okay, Aiden, I’ll let you rest. As soon as I get settled into the hotel I’ll call the nurse’s station and leave them my information.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Frowning, he looked at the man on the bed. “I want you to have it.”

“I don’t need it.”

Without saying anything more, Duncan left the room, disappointed at Aiden’s reluctance to accept anything.

T
hey spent a
quiet day in the house.

Chad paced the living room, restless. It had been quiet outside and inside for too long. Lora had been cleaning the bedroom where she’d been attacked. She’d made several trips with soiled sheets and bags of trash. At one point he’d offered to help. She’d stared at him for several long seconds before shaking her head. “No, thank you.”

The little girl played in her room for a while then wandered into the living room to watch TV. As she clicked through the channels, Chad felt her eyes watching him. He lifted an eyebrow at her in question.