Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1) (9 page)

“Yes. Do you remember why we’re in the hospital?”

I shook my head as cold sweat trickled down my back and my palms became clammy. With a jolt of recollection, I realized what was going on. I pulled her hands away from my face and replied, “Renée. Is she all right?”

Aimee narrowed her eyes at me. While she avoided my question, she inquired, “What was that?”

I feigned innocence. “What are you talking about?”

She didn’t buy my act for a second. With her hands on her hips, she responded, “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about it.”

Man, she was even more beautiful when she was angry. But there was no way I would confess to anything. I held my ground with a nasty, “Drop it,” as I walked away from her. I didn’t plan to go far; just needed some space to get my shit together. Dammit. This was neither the time nor the place for a melt down. I took several deep breaths to calm myself down. Aimee didn’t need this crap. No one did. My memories were things of nightmares.

When I heard her gasp, “Oh no,” I turned suddenly and made a beeline to her side, then wrapped my arm around her shoulder.

She leaned against me for support when the doctor informed, “We’re sending her down for a CAT scan now. Once that’s completed, we’ll put her in a room.”

“Will I be able to see her?”

“Yes. As soon as we’ve finished everything, you can go in to see her.”

Aimee politely replied, “Thank you, doctor.”

I pulled her into a full embrace while she cried. “She’ll be fine,” I comforted. “Yes, she’ll be bruised and sore, but, otherwise, okay. Don’t worry.”

She glanced up at me with doleful eyes. “How do you know it’s nothing serious?”

“If it is, then, we’ll deal with it,” I affirmed. “Would you like to go get something to drink while we wait?”

She nodded.

While we sat in the waiting room, Aimee finally asked, “Are you going to tell me what happened when we arrived here tonight?”

I sat there contemplating whether it was a good idea or not to air my dirty laundry. However, there was just something about her that made me want to share a little part of myself. “Officially, I have PTSD,” I acknowledged.

At that revelation, her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh’ about sums it up.”

“Is it from an injury during your fighting days?”

Damn. I did not want to talk about this. “No.”

She arched her beautiful brow. “Are you planning to expound here? Or leave it at that?”

Shit. She was not going to let this go. A part of me admired her tenacity. It was refreshing to have someone call me on the carpet when I shut down. No one had in years. My brothers just left it alone when I got like this. Wise of them actually, because the truth was, I’d tear them a new one if they tried. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and answered, “It was an accident many years ago.”

She cocked her head to one side. “You were injured?” she asked with compassion.

“Yes.” I doubled up my fists preparing for the rest of her inquisition.

“Severely?” she continued to query.

“No,” I replied abruptly.

As she began to fit the pieces together, she nodded, “I see. Someone you loved was,” she speculated.

I stood and through clenched teeth confirmed, “Yes.” I began to walk away, but then suddenly turned. While holding her gaze intently, I blurted, “She’s dead.” After I dropped that lil’ piece of info, I stepped outside for some much needed air.

*****

What the hell was wrong with me? I was supposed to be here for Aimee, not reliving the night Rachel and my unborn daughter died. Talk about six kinds of fucked up. She would want more details with the bomb I just detonated. And I, in no way, had any intentions of playing twenty questions. I stepped to the side of the building and leaned back against it, as I tried to get the images—which refused to die—out of my head.
Shit. It’s a friggin’ lost cause.
As I kicked a soda can, as hard as I could, I watched it sail through the air and land with a significant
thunk.
That felt good. I ran both hands through my hair and marched back inside. Aimee needed me to be a man. Not a pussy.

When I stepped around the corner, I saw her. Her lost look almost undid me, right there. Even if I could have stopped myself, at that moment, I wouldn’t have. I hauled her against my body and held her tight.
What is it about this woman?
On some visceral level, I recognized her.
Why?
Not to mention there was just something about her that made me want to protect her from all harm. Once you added the undeniable attraction, you had one hell of a cocktail.

Heady.

Tempting.

A force to be reckoned with.

I ran my hand down her spine and rested it at the small of her back. The urge to kiss her was unbearable. Again, it didn’t make sense. I did
not
kiss on the mouth.
Well, not any more, that is.
There was only one exception I’d made to the rule, and I had vowed to never repeat it. That kiss had been like no other. And I knew, no matter how hard I tried, I would never find another woman who could bring me to my knees like that. Not even my lovely wife had been capable, and I had been head over heels in love with her. I inhaled sharply as Rachel’s memory danced through my mind. There wasn’t a moment I didn’t miss her or wish like hell it’d been me that had died that night.

I carefully pulled away from Aimee, fighting not to let a tear escape. Since that night, I hadn’t let myself cry for Rachel. And I refused to succumb now. I cleared my throat and asked, “You okay?”

She attempted a watery smile. “Sort of.”

“Wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“No.” She shook her head for emphasis. “I just want to sit down for a moment.”

I led her over to some chairs. While she closed her eyes and rested, I held her hand. It wasn’t long before a nurse informed her she could go in to see Renée. I glanced up at her. “You go ahead without me. I’ll be here when you’re finished,” I promised.

She nodded, “Thank you.”

*****

While I sat there with my elbows on my knees, I let the memories I’d held at bay flow. For whatever reason, instead of Rachel, the night of a particular masquerade invaded. To this day, that night was unforgettable. My mind had begun to play tricks on me. I could swear it was Aimee from the night a few years past. How could that be? At the time, I had been in Chicago on business. Since the hosts were friends of mine, and I attended every year, I had a standing invitation. Therefore, I had not been placed on the guest list. I shook my head to clear it. Nothing made sense anymore.

Then, the recollection of spanking Aimee’s gorgeous ass came unbidden. Crap. What a colossal mistake that’d been. Yet, I couldn’t seem to contain myself. I was furious she had run; subsequently, worried sick something awful had happened to her. When she defied me, I lost it. I had never done anything like that before. It did not help my hand still tingled with desire to do so again. Although this time, not out of anxiety or frustration. Damn. How could I continue to avoid taking her? I adjusted my painful erection. I was going to end up a patient with the worst case of blue balls ever recorded. I stood and began to pace.

After I got my overactive libido under control, I sat back down and attempted to form some kind of plan. Time passed while I waited for Aimee to return. I had a pretty good idea she was right about Reynolds being behind the attack on Renée. Question was, how did I prevent him from getting to Aimee? Not to mention those she cared about. Since the last time I had dealt with his obsession, he’d escalated. With Rachel he had done things differently. Probably due to the fact he was much younger then, and she’d been his first. Who knew how many women he had stalked since? We’d never been able to prove it years ago. Now, he had so much wealth and power at his fingertips. Truth was, he could get away with murder. I knew it. He knew it. So what to do? First thing, was to get a security team together quickly. I decided to make some calls.

I had just ended my call with Alex when Aimee returned to my side. I looked into her weary eyes and inquired, “How’s she doing?”

She yawned before she answered, “Sleeping.”

“I take it you’d like to stay here with her?”

“Yes, please,” she confirmed.

I nodded while I assisted her into a chair. “Wait here.”

“Thank you, Nik.”

I held her hand for a moment. “No big deal.” Then I went to make overnight arrangements for her.

One of the nurses, Liz, was kind enough to assist me with getting Aimee a cot placed in Renée’s room. While she set everything up, I went to get Aimee. Who was sound asleep in the chair where I’d left her. Not having the heart to wake her, I picked her up and cradled her close, then walked back into the room. When she mumbled something indecipherable and nuzzled my chest, I about lost it.
Dear God, she’s perfect like this.
I wanted nothing more than to kiss her luscious lips. But I knew better; instead, I gently kissed the top of her head as I laid her down on the cot. I tucked the blanket around her and then stepped out into the hall with the nurse.

“Will she be all right there?” I asked.

Liz confirmed, “Yes, Mr. Strand.”

“Do I need to do anything else tonight?”

“No, sir. You’ve taken care of everything.” I knew she referred to the fact I had paid for Renée’s private room. “Go home and rest.” She assured, “I’ll watch over both of them.”

“Thank you, Liz. I’ll leave as soon as security makes it up here.”

“See you in the morning, then.” She turned and left.

A few minutes later, my head of security, Ray, arrived to watch over Aimee and Renée. He confirmed that Jim and José were also on site. Once I concluded with my team all was well, I headed home for the night.

Chapter Ten

Aimee

The next morning, I awoke on a small cot. As I stretched and searched the room, my gaze instantly fell on Renée. She looked so small—quite a feat, considering she was nearly five-foot, ten-inches tall—lying there broken. Tears slid down my cheeks. If I didn’t know that was my best friend, I would not have recognized her. Her face was a mottled mess. Both eyes swollen, one of which I knew she wouldn’t be able to open for a few days. Her lip was split as well.
Poor baby.
I wanted to hug her, but I was unsure where it was safe to touch her. At least her leg had only been broken in one place, the left fibula. She’d heal relatively quickly, for that I was grateful. She began to stir and barely managed to crack open one eye. “Hey,” I greeted with a watery smile.

She croaked, “Where am I?”

I grabbed her hand and held it as I replied, “Hospital.”

She swallowed and winced when she licked her bottom lip. I reached over to the side table for a glass of water. After I helped her with a much needed drink, she asked, “Why am I here?”

“Oh, Ren. I really hoped you could tell me what happened,” I replied.

She blinked in confusion so I relayed what I knew. “We found you in your bedroom. You have a concussion, two black eyes, a split lip, bruising all over your face, and a broken leg.”

She looked down at her leg and grimaced when she tried to move it. “No cast?”

“You got lucky there.” She shot me a disbelieving look. I clarified, “What I mean is, it’s your fibula, no cast required.”

“Alright.” She inquired, “So who beat the shit out of me?”

I shrugged and acknowledged, “We don’t know.”

She held my gaze so incessantly I had to look away. Of course, she knew my tell. “But you have an idea,” she suggested.

Still unable to look at her—
how do I admit this is all my fault?—
I nodded.

“Caleb?” she speculated.

Holy crap!
How does she do that?
Her instincts were always spot on. I admitted, “We think so.”

“Look at me, Aims.” I did as she ordered. “Who’s ‘we’? You keep saying that.”

I licked my dry lips and confessed, “Nik and I.”

Her eyes widened. “Nik? Start talking, girlfriend.”

I brought her up to speed—well, mostly; I wasn’t ready to share
everything
. I’d left out the intimate, or lack thereof, details. Although no one could ever accuse Renée of stupidity; hence, her next question shouldn’t have surprised me. “Have you slept with him yet?”

“Uh…well…” I stuttered. Then squared my shoulders and unashamedly answered, “Actually, no, I haven’t.”

“You don’t say.”

Thankfully, at that moment, we were interrupted by Keshaun. He swooped into the room and began to gush all over her. I politely excused myself.
Phew! That was close.
But I knew Renée, all too well. This wasn’t the end of the discussion. Not by a long shot.

*****

As I rounded the corner, I ran smack dab into a slab of muscles. Goodness, the man was stacked. And I would be lying if I didn’t own up to the fact; I wanted nothing more than to run my tongue over each and every one of them. I glanced up while I licked my bottom lip as the erotic image passed through my mind. Nik watched my tongue intently and mirrored my action. I exercised vehement control not to jump him, right there, and greeted, “Hi.”

“Hey. How’re you?”

“Better, thanks.”

“And Renée?”

“As well as can be expected. She’s with her”—
crap, what do I call Keshaun?
—“boyfriend.” There, that sounded a whole lot better than sub. I highly doubted Nik would understand their relationship. Hell, I had a hard enough time with it. I mean, how did a big, handsome, famous basketball player let a Domme beat him with various implements while restrained all for the sake of pleasure?
Whatever. To each his own.
Their relationship was between them, and while Renée was a Dominatrix by trade, he had never paid for her services. I shook my head to clear the mental image.

“You alright?” Nik stood there with his eyes narrowed.
Ah, hell, don’t tell me he has the same uncanny gift as Renée at knowing what I’m thinking.