Nobody's Hero (3 page)

She knew he was right, but the guilt that
plagued her every waking moment wouldn’t release its hold. He’d
been injured trying to save her and now suffered in her place.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and he
motioned for her to precede him down the narrow hallway and into
the kitchen. Angie left the stove and came toward her. “Oh,
sweetie, you look exhausted. Didn’t you get any sleep last night
either?”

“Not much. It’s hard to sleep in a chair.”
And I don’t want to miss it if Adam needs me during the
night.

Angie wrapped her arms around her and Karla’s
already shaky rein on her emotions evaporated. She held on for dear
life, too exhausted to fight the tears off anymore. God, she
despised being so powerless. She imagined Adam must feel
frustrated, too.

“I hate seeing him lying there. He’s always
been so strong. Invincible. I know he’s getting stronger, but he
still has so far to go…”

Angie stroked her hair. “Let me know if
there’s anything I can do to help. You were there for me when I was
beaten down. I want to be there for you, too.”

Karla was so glad she’d met this woman,
albeit under unusual circumstances. When the man who had brought
her to the Masters at Arms Club in late August had become abusive
toward her in one of the club’s theme rooms, causing her to plunge
into deep subspace, Marc had rescued her. But he was needed as a
Dungeon Monitor Supervisor in the busy club that night to keep an
eye on other scenes. He’d carried Angie upstairs and Adam had asked
Karla to watch over her until she recovered enough for Karla to
take her home to Aspen Corners, about three hours away.

When she’d dropped Angie off at home the next
morning, battered and disheartened, Karla hadn’t ever expected to
see her anywhere near the club again. But she and Marc had somehow
reconnected in her hometown a month later following a
search-and-rescue mission Marc and Luke were on, and they’d wound
up bringing her back to the club. Somehow Angie didn’t know Marc
had been the one to rescue her. Karla and others at the club had
been brought into perpetuating the lie for reasons Karla still
didn’t understand. But Marc and Angelina seemed to be willing to
work things out and had been together almost ever since.

Every year since her college roommate and
best friend, Cassie López, had moved to Colorado, she and Karla had
spent a week together in the fall, including an annual overnight
camping trip on one of Colorado’s Fourteeners. This year they’d
chosen Mount Evans near Denver and Karla and Angie had picked up
Cassie at her remote mountain cabin home during the first week of
October. When they got to their camping spot, all hell broke loose
when Angie’s abusive ex-boyfriend, who had been stalking her,
kidnapped her.

Karla had called Adam to report Angie missing
and he’d notified Marc, Luke, and Damián. By the time they’d all
arrived, Angie had outsmarted her stalker and escaped unharmed.
Minutes later, though, Karla had been threatened by a cougar,
leading Adam to try to entice the cat away from Karla, only to be
attacked himself.

Angie had become a good friend in a short
time. The loneliness Karla had experienced since arriving at the
club in July disappeared when Angie came for a visit last week.
Since the cougar attack, however, Angie had been staying at Marc’s
house—well, when they weren’t at Adam’s, but both had spent a lot
of time here, too, after Adam had come home.

Angie told her she hoped to move out of Aspen
Corners for good once she found a job as a chef here in town. Karla
understood her need for financial independence. Adam provided for
so many of Karla’s personal needs—room, board, clothing. She felt
guilty about that and, while she’d never admit this to her
independent mother or friends, she also liked being taken care of.
If that was the only role Adam wanted to play in her life, then
she’d take it.

“Kitty, let me sit with him tonight so you
can get some sleep. I feel like a fifth wheel around here
anyway.”

Karla glanced over her shoulder at Cassie,
whose Peruvian heritage, with her lustrous long dark hair and a
beautiful olive complexion that Karla would give almost anything to
have, gave her an exotic persona, accentuated by the scent of
freesia that surrounded her. Her best friend wrapped her in a big
hug, probably hating to have been caught up in all this drama.

Karla had rarely left Adam’s side since he
was in the hospital. Now that he’d come home, Cassie stayed on to
support her friend. She helped with meals, laundry, and watching
over Adam while Karla showered or a napped.

“Just having you here has helped me so much,
Cassie.”

The kitchen door opened and in walked Luke
Denton, Marc’s search-and-rescue partner and the newest Dom at the
club. Adam and his friends pretty much had run of the building,
which included the club and Adam’s private living quarters.

“Something smelled good all the way out on
the porch.” He walked over to Angie, placed a hand on her back, and
started to kiss her on the cheek, then halted and turned to Marc.
“Permission to kiss the cook.”

“Granted—but only on the cheek.” The two Doms
exchanged an amicable look, but Karla had to wonder if there hadn’t
been something between Luke and Angie at some point. However, the
woman clearly had no interest in anyone other than Marc these days.
“I think I might need to do a better job of explaining some
protocols to you, Baby Dom—like teaching you to ask before you
touch—let alone kiss—another Dom’s sub.”

“Oh, behave, you two,” Angie said. “Too much
testosterone in here—and we’re not in the club right now, so
protocols don’t apply for us.”

Angie had told Karla she and Marc were
strictly Dom/sub in the bedroom and while playing at the club.
Karla had learned a lot about people in the BDSM lifestyle since
she’d gotten the job to perform at the club, but there was still so
much she didn’t understand.

“Some protocols
always
apply,
cara
, such as respecting another Dom’s property. Maybe we
need to renegotiate our agreement.”

“But you promised…” Karla saw a flash of
uncertainty cross Angie’s eyes and Marc chuckled.

“I’m not saying I want less Dom/sub time,
cara
, but maybe more.” When he held his arms open, she went
into them.

Karla looked away, happy for them, but
wishing she and Adam could have a relationship like theirs.

Luke grinned at the couple, clearly without
hard feelings, then turned to greet Karla. Instead, his attention
homed in on Cassie, who had crept back to her safe place with her
sketchpad at the kitchen table. Karla wished Cassie would at least
give Luke a chance. The two had first met in the hospital waiting
room almost two weeks ago. When Cassie had sketched a picture of
Luke’s dead wife as an angel holding the baby presumably she’d
pregnant with when she was killed. Cassie had never seen Luke’s
wife before and yet drew her with uncanny accuracy, Luke had said.
His wife appeared to be carrying the baby she was pregnant with
when she was killed. Luke had looked devastated to see the
image.

Karla couldn’t help but think someone from
the other side was trying to bring the two of them together. She’d
like to help her friend find love and happiness, even if those
emotions weren’t possible for Karla—at least not with the man she
wanted to enjoy them with.

Karla walked closer to the table, pleased to
see Luke’s attention remained on her friend. “Cassie, I know you
probably need to get back home soon. There must be any number of
artist commissions you need to be working on.”

Right on cue, Luke offered, “If you need a
ride, Cassie, I’d be happy to run you home.” Cassie grew tense.
Karla realized it was too soon for that. She went over to her and
stroked her friend’s back, hoping to calm her fears. With her
history, of course Cassie wouldn’t be comfortable alone with him,
even if he didn’t pose an actual threat to her.

Luckily, Angie came to her rescue. “Cassie, I
need to go back to my house in a few days and pack up some more
things. I could take you home then.” Cassie was only about thirty
minutes from Aspen Corners.

Karla watched a relieved smile flit across
Cassie’s face. She wished her friend wasn’t afraid of all men, but
understood why. Her former roommate had an aversion to all men
after a brutal attack she suffered in Peru, her homeland, during a
break from college.

Gentle Luke wouldn’t hurt a soul, nor would
any of the Doms at the Masters at Arms. Perhaps if she wasn’t alone
so much, she could become more comfortable around men. Maybe some
day, Cassie would be able to let a man get close enough to win over
her heart.

“Thanks, Angie. I’d like that, but only when
Kitty’s ready to kick me out.”

Karla grinned at her. Thinking about anything
other than Adam right now was more than she could manage right now,
so knowing Cassie had a way back to her cabin was a relief for her,
if things stretched out too long.

Marc came over and stroked Karla’s arm.
“You’re going to take a nap after lunch while one of us sits with
Adam.”

Karla pulled away and wiped her suddenly damp
eyes with the arms of her black long-sleeved t-shirt. Time to
change the subject before she started sobbing.

Looking at the stove, Karla asked, “What
smells so good?”

“Penne pasta with roasted red peppers and
garlic.”

“God, Angie, you make cooking seem so simple.
Will I ever…” Oh, what was the use learning how to cook for Adam
now? She’d only had a couple lessons from her chef friend, but
Karla wouldn’t be here long enough to make anything for him. Once
he was stronger, she’d be going home to Chicago. Her eyes burned
and she blinked rapidly. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing,” Marc said. “Table’s all set. Come,
sit down.”

Marc guided her to the head of the table.
Adam’s chair. Instead, Karla took the one beside it. Angie carried
a baking dish to the table and Marc went over to the counter to
retrieve the bread and wine. Seeing them so in sync together just
made her feel sadder, which made her feel guiltier. Why begrudge
them happiness, just because she could never have it herself?

Luke sat beside Karla, with Cassie at the end
of the table. Marc and Angelina sat close to each other across from
Karla and Luke. The meal began in silence with the salads, and then
Angie dished out the main course for each of them.

Karla’s eyes were drawn to them as Angie
reached out and touched Marc’s hand. Even a simple gesture like
that was more than she could have with Adam, than Adam would
let
her have.

“Marc, the sheriff’s office called. Martin’s
bail request was denied. Looks like we won’t have to worry about
him getting out for awhile. They take kidnapping a whole lot more
seriously than battery.”

A look of pain flickered in Marc’s eyes.
Angie had suffered at the hands of her ex-boyfriend, Allen Martin.
Karla had seen the fear on Marc’s face that evening on Mount Evans
when they’d gone to rescue Angie, no doubt thinking the worst had
happened. He cared a lot about Angie.

Karla’s hand began to tremble and she rested
it on the table so no one else would see the fork shaking in her
fingers. Too late. Luke reached out and squeezed her hand until the
shaking stopped. When she looked over at him, he smiled.

“Adam would want you to eat more than
that.”

“I know. I just…”

He picked up the fork and stabbed a couple
pieces of pasta holding them up to her mouth until she accepted
them. Everyone was taking such good care of her, so she could take
care of Adam. This rag-tag family Adam had brought together would
be lost without him.

Visions of the blood pooling beside Adam’s
neck as he lay motionless curdled her stomach. Karla couldn’t block
the images from her mind. Everything had happened so quickly. Adam
had come running and tried to calm her fears. He’d distracted the
cougar, which chased and attacked him. She’d tried to wrestle the
cat off him, until Marc had pulled her away so Damián could shoot
the beast.

The memories led to a roiling stomach and,
after a couple more forkfuls, Karla took the fork from Luke,
fearing she’d get sick if she ate another bite. But she appreciated
his support.

“Just remember,
cara
, he’s still
strong or he wouldn’t be here,” Marc said, lapsing into his native
Italian endearment. “You just wait. He’ll be back to his old self
again, ordering everyone around and running his tight ship, same as
always.”

Yes, but without me.

Luke took advantage of a lull in the table
talk and struck up a conversation with Cassie, possibly trying to
draw her out of her silence. Karla was surprised at his knowledge
on the subject of fine art. He worked as a carpenter and
woodworker. Of course, he’d shown a knack for designing some of the
unique pieces of equipment used in the club.

Cassie surprised her by asking, “How do you
know so much about art?”

“I was an art major in college. They didn’t
have the industrial arts major I wanted at the University of Texas,
but I’m really glad I chose studio art instead. It has helped me a
lot with my work.”

Cassie gave him a hesitant smile, then her
brow furrowed and she retreated again, focusing on her food. Well,
it was a start at least. Maybe the two of them had found common
ground to build on.

Karla’s eyelids burned. She wished she and
Adam could find common ground. Karla laid her fork on the table, no
longer able to eat for the anxious churning in her stomach.

Karla’s neck ached from sleeping curled up in
the chair beside Adam’s bed yet again. After two weeks of bedside
vigils—first in the hospital and then at home—it was a wonder she
could move her neck. She glanced at him, all stretched out on the
other side of his king-sized bed. His chest rose and fell in
rhythmic breathing. As usual, he slept without a shirt; the sheet
and blanket pulled down to his waist. His pecs were ripped, those
delicious nips begging to be sucked to granite-hard peaks, just the
way she’d always fantasized. His body looked as firm and tight as
she’d imagined them all those years ago. She smiled when she
remembered wanting to try to bounce a quarter off his chest and
licking his pecs the first time she’d seen him without his
shirt.