Heather's Gift (8 page)

“Thanks, babe,” Brock whispered so low that Heather barely heard him, despite the fact that she stood only a few feet from him. “I’ll be up when we’re done.”

When he released her, he touched her hair, then watched as she turned away and headed for the stairs.

“Can we get started now?” Rick asked, laying the folder down on the table.

“Not yet.” Sam took a deep breath. “She goes too.” He nodded in Heather’s direction.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Heather’s part of the security force, Sam,” Rick bit out. “It’s information she needs to know to protect your ass.”

She crossed her arms over her breasts, staring back at him in challenge.

“I’m nothing to you, remember?” she reminded him of his past inference. His hands gripped the back of the chair Marly had sat in, nearly turning white from the grip he had on it.

“Doesn’t matter,” he growled. “She goes, Rick.”

“She might go, but it won’t make a difference.” Rick’s voice was firm, his expression icy. “I won’t hide this information from her. It affects her, not just due to her job, but due to the fact that her life is now in more danger than any of the rest of you. Would you deny her the information that would help save it?”

The bombshell was dropped with the ease of words, but the echo of the implications resounded throughout the room. Sam paled, but all eyes now turned to Heather.

“Why?” Cade bit out, turning quickly back to Rick.

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“Reginald Robert Jennings. He’s Jack Jennings full brother, and both men are half brothers to Jedediah Marcelle, the man you killed, Cade. Reginald Robert is Marly’s natural father.”

Silence, thick and all consuming filled the room for long seconds.

“No.” Cade’s voice was furious, blistering with his rage.

“Someone went to a lot of trouble to hide the records. There were even false records recorded in the computer system, which is why we were stumped for so long. It took a physical search.” Rick opened the file and pushed it toward Cade. “I have birth records, marriage license, divorce record, all of it. Some of it was pretty cleverly hidden. Someone wanted Reginald Robert’s name erased from any public files. I think he’s the one who was writing to Marly, and I believe he’s the one stalking the family now. If that’s true, then Heather’s life won’t be worth shit if he’s not caught.”

The cold brutal edge of his voice assured her of just how serious he was.

“Thanks, Rick,” she bit out, fear flashing through her now. Rick sighed roughly.

“He’s focused on Sam,” he said. “I can’t figure that one out. I would expect him to focus on Cade, because of Marly and the fact that Cade was the one who killed his brother. Instead, he blames Sam. I believe it’s because his social status, as well as his brother’s life, ended because of Marcelle’s fixation on Sam.”

“Enough.” Sam’s voice was like broken glass.

Rick glanced away, but when he looked back, his expression was even, cool and impersonal.

“Servants gossip, and it seems there were several who were aware of what was going on in that basement,” he continued, ignoring the way the man began to shift dangerously, muscles bunching as though preparing to attack.

“I managed to track one down, and to get him to talk. He was the one that carried the meals down to the room, who injected the drugs…”

“Enough.” Cade shook his head, his hands bunching into fists in the pockets of his jeans.

“Reginald went to medical school for a while,” Rick continued. “He was especially proficient with a scalpel. The scars Sam carries proves that whoever did the work, knew what they were doing. As does Heather’s.”

Heather watched Sam. He flinched with each word, denial raging in his expression. She felt her heart breaking for him. She couldn’t stand here, knowing that listening to every word out of Rick’s mouth was destroying him further because she was hearing it. Because she knew.

“Enough,” she whispered, holding a hand up to stop Rick. Everyone turned to her then.

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“Sam,” she whispered his name, tears coming to her eyes as she saw the unbearable shame in his expression. “I think I need to go talk to Marly as well. Will you let me know what I need to stay alive?”

She was placing her life in his hands; something she had never dared to do with anyone else. He blinked in surprise, in relief.

“I will.” He swallowed tightly.

“Heather.” Tara’s voice was filled with protest. “I’ll fill you in…”

“No.” Heather shook her head. “Sam can fill me in. He knows what I need to know and what can wait until he’s ready.”

She didn’t give Sam time to answer, or Tara to protest. She swept from the room, pain echoing through her body; for herself, for Sam, and for his brothers. They stood there, together, yet apart. As though invisible shields separated them, refusing to allow them to draw together, to face the past as a unit.

She was already aware of many of the details. Painful, horrendous. Rick hadn’t cut them any slack when he first detailed the dangers they faced. They were three men lucky to be alive, to be able to function in any normal way, and one of them had committed murder.

Men so horrifically abused, that their only connection to each other was the sexual bonds they shared with each other’s women. Strong, dependable, decent men whose only faults were their sexual needs and their loyalty to each other. And these men were being stalked, possibly by someone who had aided the monster who tried to destroy them. Wanted to destroy them because Sam had refused the homosexual relationship his abuser had wanted.

The drugs they had been injected with had aided the abuser in forcing them to rape each other. The normal bonds of brotherhood and trust had been destroyed in ways Heather could only imagine.

Her stomach rolled with the sickening realization of what Sam had suffered. The guilt and the pain he lived with was suddenly more real to her than it ever had been. Her feelings for him though, rather than dimming at that knowledge, were only growing. And in growing, she faced the bitter realization that there were now choices she would have to make as well.

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Chapter Eleven

“They’re going to try to hide from us forever,” Marly raged furiously as Heather watched her pace the room.

Her long hair fell in ringlets down her back, swishing against her hips as she stalked the room.

“They can’t hide for much longer, Marly.” Sarah sat back in the chair she had taken at the side of the room.

“It’s not like I’m unaware of what happened,” Marly bit out, pushing her fingers through her hair, as she seemed to grit her teeth in pain. “Dammit, Sarah, he treats me like I’m still a child.”

Not hardly, Heather thought sarcastically. She had been unlucky enough to walk into the kitchen one morning searching out coffee, only to find Cade buried balls deep between his lover’s thighs as he bent her over the counter.

“You look like you disagree,” Marly snapped as she turned on her. Heather watched her curiously before shrugging. “He doesn’t treat like you a child.”

Her eyes narrowed until only a sliver of the brilliant blue could be glimpsed.

“What would you call it?”

“He thinks he’s protecting you,” Heather pointed out.

“I’m aware of that, Heather,” Marly sighed then, sitting down on the bed wearily.

“It’s the only reason I don’t kick his ass now.”

Heather fought the grin that wanted to touch her lips at the thought of the petite, delicate Marly attempting to kick big Cade August’s ass. It would be an interesting sight…a lesson in futility, she thought humorously.

“Sam’s right, your sense of humor is warped. That wasn’t supposed to be funny,”

Marly accused her with a frown.

Heather could only shake her head.

“Why didn’t you stay?” Sarah asked her then. “You could have at least let us know what they were talking about later.”

“Do I look like your spy?” Heather grumbled. “I couldn’t tell you anything.”

“Of course you could,” Marly waved her hand carelessly. “You are quite aware that those men are only hurting themselves, Heather. We need to know what’s going on.”

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“I know that having even one of us down there while Rick is dissecting their pride isn’t a good idea,” she countered. “Until I break Sam of this idea that he has to share me with your lovers, then I’m a weakness to all of them.”

“And you think you can do that?” Sarah leaned back in her chair and watched Heather as she sat on the edge of the couch. “Break him of that idea?”

Heather frowned. The other woman wasn’t being sarcastic, rather mildly amused, which grated on her nerves.

“Sarah, you two are entirely too accepting of these relationships for comfort,” she said warily.

“Of course we accept it.” Marly shrugged. “Heather, we have every woman’s dream. Three men who live, and I mean live, for our pleasure and our comfort. They love us, completely, accept our moods and enjoy our differences. What isn’t there to accept?”

“Marly, your lover fucks another woman.” Heather felt as helpless in the face of these two women as she had when Sam had attempted to explain it.

“And mine fucks her,” Sarah countered. “Not anyone else, Heather, and only because she’s a part of Cade. These men aren’t like other brothers, and I know that’s hard to accept. But you have to understand; it’s who they are. You can’t change it. He might stop to please you, because he loves you, but that need will be there, and it will only grow. If you can’t accept it, then you need to stay as far away from Sam as possible.”

Heather came to her feet in a surge of anger. “I love him, Sarah. And I know he loves me. I can feel it; I can see it.”

“And he still comes to me and Marly when he needs us.” Her voice was gentle, her expression compassionate. “I can’t turn him away any more than I could turn Brock away. I would hurt us all to do so. How do you fit that into your perception of love now?”

Confusion washed over her. She had never discussed their relationships with their men with them, had avoided it every chance she had. Now it was there and impossible to ignore, and she found herself wishing she had stayed downstairs instead.

“He just needs to heal,” she whispered desperately.

“No, Heather, he needs to face it,” Marly said then. “Sam hasn’t faced the past, he doesn’t remember it, and refuses to face it. When he does, he’ll heal. But he won’t change. To a point, Cade and Brock have both faced what happened. It’s painful, and sometimes, though rarely, the nightmares are still there. But it hasn’t changed that need inside them.”

“Men will take what you let them get away with.” Heather could feel her body trembling with a rush of nervous energy. “You let them get away with it.”

Sarah sighed as she shook her head. “If it were any other man, I would agree with you.” She stared up at the ceiling somberly. “Mark was my ex-husband, Heather, and Lora Leigh

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he screwed anything he could get to open its thighs for him. But Brock’s not like that.”

Heather watched as she lowered her head again, her golden brown eyes intent, piercing. “Brock loves me; I’m his heart and soul. But he loves Marly too, and even you, because Cade and Sam do. They aren’t separate like other brothers are, Heather. A part of them—a very intrinsic, spiritual part of those men—is so closely bound that you’ll never separate them. If you try, you’ll hurt them all.”

“And they’ve been hurt enough.” Marly’s voice carried an edge of warning.

“Or maybe the two of you are just loathe to lose the affection and the relationship you have with each of those men.” She voiced the suspicion that had filled her for months.

“Heather.” Sarah held her hand up when Marly would have spoken. “I understand you’re upset, and even angry. I was at one time, too, just as Marly was. Upset because we didn’t understand, to the extent that we’ve grown to understand, these three men. This isn’t a life that just any woman could lead. Selfishness and possessiveness won’t work here. And you’ll see, if you accept Sam for who he is, that there’s no need for it. But it’s something you have to accept alone.”

There was such compassion, such understanding in Sarah’s tone that Heather’s throat tightened with emotion. She couldn’t accuse these two women of not loving their individual men, but she knew they loved each other’s, as well as Sam, too. She shook her head, fighting her emotions, her sense of what was right and what was wrong, and found that still, she had no answers.

“Heather, Sam does love you,” Marly said softly. “I know he does. I know you’re all he wants, all he needs, to ease the pain he carries. Without you, Sarah and I…” She seemed to struggle for words. “It’s like needing water, and being given a soda instead. It eases for a moment, but the thirst is still there, and it’s soul deep.”

“If he loved me, I would be enough,” she whispered, fighting her tears as she crossed her arms protectively beneath her heart. “He has to love me enough.”

“Or maybe you have to love him enough,” Sarah said gently. “I suspect the demons Sam lives with. Marly and I both suspect that it wasn’t Cade who killed that bastard, but Sam. If that’s true, Heather, then that means Cade and Brock know it, they protect him from it, for a reason. Sam’s heart is softer, gentler than the other two. He’s the one that brings home stray puppies, even now. The one that plays Santa every Christmas for families in the county who don’t have money for their kids. The one that does what’s needed to lighten everyone else when the demons are at their worse. You won’t change Sam, Heather. But you, and you alone, could very well destroy him.”

And how was she supposed to live with that? The emotional pressure, as well as her own feelings, twisted and fought inside her until she felt the raking talons of her own lack of answers. She looked at both women, seeing anger, but also their compassion and understanding. They knew how she struggled, how she fought. She could see it in their eyes, in their acceptance of the men they loved. Lora Leigh