Vegetarian Mate [Pack Law 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (4 page)

“Would you like some toast or cereal for breakfast?” She practically whispered her question.

“Toast would be nice. Thank you.”

Once Rochelle was finished with breakfast, she picked up her mug of coffee and surreptitiously studied the occupants of the room. The men were all so big and handsome, but none of them drew her like Jarrod, Malcolm, and Braxton. Maybe the men here were so big because they all seemed to eat so much meat. She shuddered and looked down at her plate.

“Rochelle, I think you should stay here at least another night,” Jarrod said and held up his hand when she would have spoken. “Let me finish. Blayk has already suggested you shouldn’t drive for a couple of days. Victims of concussion tend to get sleepy, and I couldn’t live with my conscience if you drove off and then had an accident. Please consider delaying your departure for another few days.”

Rochelle felt warm and fuzzy inside over his concern for her, and since she still had a headache and was feeling a little tired she decided he was right.

“Okay. Thank you for the offer of your hospitality. I’ll try and keep out of everyone’s way.”

“That’s not necessary, Rochelle.” Jarrod rose to his feet. “Treat this place like you would your own home. We’ll feel a lot better knowing you are safe and healing without causing any accidents or putting yourself in danger. Now, we have to get ready for work. We’ll see you later.”

Jarrod and his brothers headed for their rooms, so she took the opportunity to approach the “bosses.”

Rising from her seat, she walked toward Michelle and her husbands.

“Hi, Rochelle, have a seat.” Michelle shoved at her husband Mikhail’s shoulder until he got up and moved to another chair.

“Hi,” she began as she tried to figure out what she was going to say. “Um, I−I had a bit of an accident in the bathroom upstairs last night and would like to pay for the damage.”

She thought she saw Michelle’s lips twitch, but when she looked again she realized she must have imagined it.
She can’t possibly know. Can she?
She looked up and saw the gleam of amusement in Michelle’s eyes.
Oh shit! Does everyone know what happened?

“You don’t need to worry. Jarrod’s already taken care of it.”

Rochelle slid her eyes to the two men on the other side of Michelle and caught them smiling. They looked away quickly when they saw her looking at them.
Oh, how fucking embarrassing!

“They told you!”

“They didn’t want to, honey, but Jarrod had to explain why he was handing a check over to Jonah.”

“Oh shit. I can’t believe they…I’m sorry. I have to go.” There was no way she could stay now. “Thanks for your hospitality,” she whispered and pushed her chair back quickly.

She was in such a hurry to leave her feet got caught in the legs of her chair. Hands reached out to steady her, and she turned her head to thank them again without slowing down. She didn’t see the cart Angie had just wheeled up to the table until it was too late. She was moving so fast that momentum carried her forward.

Up and over she went. The glass on top of the cart cracked under her when she reached out, and as she toppled over, it flipped and landed on top of her. The weakened glass shattered. Rochelle threw up her arms to protect her face. A large shard of glass sliced into the underside of her forearm, going deep. White-hot burning pain seared into her soft skin, and she cried out.

Somewhere behind her, someone roared, “Fuck.” In moments, she was surrounded by large male bodies.

“Don’t touch her,” Blayk yelled from across the room. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed how fast he moved. One moment he was across the room, and the next he was at her side.

“Shit, baby. You’re a hazard to yourself,” Jarrod muttered.

Looking up at him she saw he was dressed in a sheriff’s uniform. His brothers Braxton and Malcolm were behind him, and they had on deputy uniforms. They looked so damn hot in their uniforms, and if she hadn’t been in pain, she may have drooled at the sight of them.

“We need to get her into my office. From the amount of blood pouring out, I think she’s nicked an artery,” Blayk stated calmly. “That glass has to stay in her arm until I can take a closer look. It could be all that’s stopping her from bleeding out. Don’t jostle her too much when you lift her.”

Rochelle whimpered as Jarrod carefully picked her up, but it wasn’t from pain. She hated the sight of blood, especially when it was her own. Closing her eyes, she gulped in air as she began to feel light-headed. When she opened them again, she was once more back on the exam table in Blayk’s infirmary. She wondered if she had passed out for a moment or two.

Blayk pulled over a large lamp with a magnifying glass attached. After inspecting the wound, which still had the large shard of glass protruding from it, he walked over to a cupboard, rummaged around, and came back with a tray full of silver sterilized tools as well as two hypodermic needles.

“I’m going to give you a local anesthetic so I can work without causing you pain. Okay?”

After swallowing loudly, Rochelle still couldn’t seem to find her voice, so she gave a nod. She hissed through her teeth as the sharp needle pierced her skin but kept still. She was such a wuss when it came to anything medical. Just the thought of going to the doctor could nearly make her swoon.

Turning her head away from the blood, she looked up to see Jarrod, Malcolm, and Braxton watching her with concern. Her face flamed red hot, and she knew it had probably changed color as well. She turned to look back at Blayk when he began to speak.

“Talia, honey, can you come and give me a hand?” Blayk hadn’t looked away from her arm.

Talia? Talia’s not here
. As Rochelle was beginning to wonder how hard she’d banged her head last night, she heard the door open. Talia appeared at her side a moment later, saying, “Sure. What do you want me to do?”

How the hell did he know Talia was out there?
Well, she did have a concussion. Maybe Blayk’s
ears were working better than hers.

He said, “See those large tweezers on the tray?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to use them and pull the glass from her wound. That way I can have her artery clamped off faster,” Blayk calmly explained. “Ready, honey?”

Rochelle wasn’t sure if Blayk was asking her or his wife but gave a nod just in case.

“Now!”

Talia tugged the glass from her arm, and she yelped, but not with pain. She looked down and saw red covering her arm from elbow to inner wrist. Rochelle knew she shouldn’t have looked but couldn’t seem to help herself. Nausea roiled in her stomach when she saw flesh in the opening of her cut skin. She felt her eyes roll, and weakness permeated her body. She could hear the three Friess brothers talking to her, but nothing they said seemed to be intelligible.

Her head slumped against the table, and even though she could feel slight tugging where Blayk worked, she still felt no pain. Nonetheless, she felt as if she were drifting in and out of consciousness, and she had no idea how long it took for him to patch her up.

“Okay, I’m done. She only had a slight nick to the radial artery. I had to put in thirty stitches, so she’s going to be sore and sorry for a while. Keep her arm dry, and if the pain gets to be too much, call me. And look out for any seepage.”

Even though Rochelle heard everything Blayk said, it felt like she was hearing him from a long way off. Gentle, warm arms picked her up, and she tried to open her heavy eyelids to see who was carrying her but couldn’t manage to. Just as the previous night, the slow rocking of being carried was enough to send her to sleep.

Malcolm stared at his computer screen without seeing it. He wondered if there was any point in coming in to work today when his thoughts were still stuck back at the den.

It had been almost impossible to walk away from Rochelle, curled up and sleeping peacefully in their bed. Braxton was staying with her, and Malcolm knew his brother would make sure Rochelle was safe, but he still wished that he could be there, too.

Mate to two deputies and a sheriff, and we can’t keep her from getting hurt
. How could they, when Rochelle needed to be kept safe from herself? It was baffling.

A sigh rose up from the desk behind him. “How did she even live to be twenty-four?” Jarrod said.

Malcolm suppressed a grin as he spun his desk chair around. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

His brother stood beside his desk, a sheaf of paperwork in hand. He was wearing a glazed expression that probably looked a lot like the one Malcolm was wearing today. “She’s a hazard to herself.” He dropped the papers on the desk and picked up the top sheet. He frowned at it, murmuring, “Tomorrow one of us will get to stay with her…Did you see this?”

“See what?”

Jarrod handed the page across. It was part of a report on yesterday’s traffic accident out on one of the county roads. It had been something of a mystery. One vehicle, broad daylight, good visibility. The driver had been taken to the hospital, too battered for Malcolm or the others to get an account of the accident from him. He must have come around, though, because Malcolm found himself holding the man’s statement.

The words jumped up in front of Malcolm’s eyes.
Wolf darted into the road, forcing driver to swerve…

“A wolf?” Malcolm looked up at his brother and found Jarrod’s eyes cold and hard. “Shit.”

Jarrod met his eyes and said telepathically,
“It can’t be one of our pack. The Alphas wouldn’t stand for this kind of thing.”

Malcolm checked over his shoulder in case there were any humans nearby, but they had the office to themselves. “You think this is related to the other incidents?”

Jarrod nodded silently.

That would make this the fourth incident in two weeks. The first three had been livestock getting mauled or disappearing. Local ranchers swore that they’d seen a solitary wolf prowling around their herds. Jarrod’s official stance as sheriff was that there weren’t any wolves in this part of the country. He said the rancher must have seen a coyote or a feral dog.

Of course, there were wolves, just not the kind that would go around harassing livestock.

“If it is a wolf,”
Jarrod said, breaking into Malcolm’s thoughts,
“it has to be a rogue. No self-respecting
were
runs around causing wrecks and ripping the guts out of cattle.”

Malcolm dropped his attention to the paper in his hand. He knew how Jarrod felt about rogue wolves. His brother’s position wasn’t unreasonable, considering what had happened. Considering what lone wolves often meant in a community.

“Or just a coyote,”
Malcolm suggested.

“You always were an optimist
.
”
Jarrod picked up the phone from his desk. “Pull up those other reports from the ranchers. If there’s a pattern, we’ll find it.” After a pause, he added silently,
“And don’t mention the dead livestock to our mate
.
”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Malcolm muttered.

* * * *

Rochelle groaned as burning pain radiated through her lower arm. She moved her head on the hard, warm pillow beneath her cheek and whimpered when she moved her arm.
What have I done now!
Opening her eyes, she stared at the unfamiliar wall across the room.

“Are you in pain, darlin’?”

She jumped, which jolted her sore arm and caused her to whimper again. Lifting her head and leaning on the elbow of her good arm, she looked up to find herself draped over Braxton Friess. Her clumsiness that morning came rushing back with startling clarity.

“Oh shit,” she whispered and then pushed off of Braxton to a sitting position. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Don’t move your arm too much, darlin’. You don’t want to pull the stitches.”

“God sakes, why do I have to be such a klutz?” she muttered, looking away from the sexy man lying next to her on the bed. He was so big it was a wonder his feet weren’t hanging off the end of the mattress. But the bed must have been custom made, because he fit perfectly.

“I need to get going.” She inhaled jerkily.

“No!” Braxton exclaimed. “You can’t drive with only one arm functional and a concussion, darlin’, that would be dangerous. Plus you need to be here so Blayk can keep an eye on your wound. You could get an infection.”

“He gave me a shot of antibiotics. I’ll be fine. I’ll write you out a check to cover the cost of the damage I’ve caused.” She scooted to the side of the massive bed. Standing made her go light-headed, and she couldn’t see for a moment. Big, muscular arms wrapped around her waist, and when she could see once more, she was lying on the bed again.

“You are too weak to be up and about, Rochelle. You lost a bit of blood this morning and will need to take it easy for a few days,” Braxton said, a frown marring his handsome face. “Don’t be in such a hurry to leave, darlin’. You can stay here for as long as you like.”

“That’s very generous of you, but I’ve already imposed too much.” Lifting her arm to express herself caused her to cry out with pain.