A flesh wound. He wanted to close his eyes in relief. It looked bad, but it would heal.
“That’s all,” she whispered. “I was under the bed. He shot at the bed. He knew where I was.” The tears were falling down her cheeks now.
“Was it Mark, Sarah?” Brock fought to keep his voice gentle as he moved her hair back to get a better look at the wound.
He knew if Mark had done this to her, the man wouldn’t live out the night.
“No,” she whispered, her eyes flickering to the impatient men behind her.
The thread of wariness in her voice had him narrowing his eyes on her, watching her carefully.
“Who was it, Sarah?” he asked her softly.
“I don’t know.” The helpless fear in her voice had him fighting to contain his rage.
“What do you know, baby?” He knew Josh and Sam were listening carefully.
She did too. He saw it in her face, in that spark of nervousness in her eyes. She looked at him pleadingly. What did she want to hide?
“Sarah?” he questioned her softly. “You have to tell me what happened.”
Her glance went to the men gathered around her, shame and pain reflecting in her eyes.
“Josh, get these fucking men out of here.” He cast the sheriff a hard look. “Now.”
“They need to check her out, Brock,” Josh argued. “And I need a statement.”
“Evidently you didn’t hear him well enough, Josh,” Sam’s voice was a low, warning growl.
Brock glanced at his brother, seeing the untamed violence that rarely came to the surface in the other man. Josh saw it too. The sheriff paused, winced, then turned to the men crowded behind Brock.
“Outside, boys, before these two cowboys decide to piss us all off.” Frustration lined his voice.
“Doc Bennett will be here any time. I want him brought up here. He’ll check her out and see if she needs to be taken to the hospital.” Sam continued to direct the action behind Brock.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you off of the floor.” Brock eased her into his arms, his chest tightening at the little sob that escaped her lips as he picked her up in his arms.
“He shot my bed,” she whispered, her voice forlorn as he carried her toward it. “He wanted to kill me, Brock.”
Brock knew if he found out who did this to her, the man wouldn’t live five minutes after he got hold of him.
“Damn. New bed too, hon.” He tried to keep his voice light. Tried to keep the violence out of it. “I hadn’t even got to share it with you yet.”
He stood aside while Sam grabbed pillows from the floor and propped them against the headboard.
“Here you go, sugar.” He settled her against them, sitting beside her. “Now, it’s nice and quiet in here. I want you to tell me what happened.”
She stared up at him, misery filling her expression.
“I think he wanted to hurt you,” she whispered bleakly. “You and your brothers, Brock. How would killing me hurt your brothers?”
Because she was a part of him, just as they were. Brock knew why. He had learned that lesson at the hands of a madman. He listened carefully as she told him what happened, her voice tear filled, stuttering at times as she fought the shock and the pain.
Violence filled him, tore through the control he kept built carefully around his emotions. His hands were gentle though, as they smoothed over her hair, his voice comforting, as tender as the ragged emotions escaping him would allow it to be.
“Brock, Doc is here.” Sam stood behind him, speaking softly. “He’s outside. You want me to let him in now?”
The words were no longer out of his mouth then the bedroom door was pushed open to admit the doctor and his more than irritated nurse/wife.
“Sam August, you don’t hold us up like this when one of our patients is hurt.” Elizabeth Bennett pushed open the door, determination filling her lined face as her husband followed her.
Small, fierce, her dark brown eyes as sharp as an eagle’s went over Sarah where she huddled in the bed. She was an excellent nurse and a good friend to the August family. Brock was more than thankful that she had come along.
“Sorry, Beth.” He swallowed tightly. “Guess I wasn’t thinking.”
“Knothead.” Her voice was affectionate, but worried. “Now get out of the way and let me and Doc check our girl here. She doesn’t look so good at the moment.”
Brock moved aside, standing close in case Sarah needed him and watching as the couple began to take over. He knew damned well that Beth and Doc hadn’t seen Sarah but that once, when she came in for the blood tests and birth control medication. But he could also see that Sarah had made a definite impression on the couple.
“Cade’s coming into town now.” Sam moved to his side. “He wants her ready to bring to the ranch if she doesn’t need hospital care.”
Brock sighed. He doubted she would go.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He crossed his arms over his chest as Sarah glanced up in confusion while Beth worked at her shoulder, questioning her gently.
“Did he touch you, Sarah?” The older woman’s question had Sarah looking at her in surprise.
“No. I was under the bed,” she answered the older woman, her voice still carrying the dazed confusion Brock knew was running through her head.
“Good. Then this is our only problem?” Beth held Sarah’s hair back, tilting her head as Doc moved in to treat the wound. “This ain’t too bad, hon. Doc can fix you right up with it. Won’t even need stitches. Just a nice bandage.”
Sarah winced as antiseptic was applied. Doc worked on the wound gently, a soft lullaby humming from his lips as he cleaned and patched the wound. A lullaby? Brock shook his head glancing at Sam, sharing his confusion at the sound. He would have never imagined it. The big, rough doctor was all thumbs and needles when he treated them.
“She’s okay. Shocky, but fine. Flesh wound, shallow at that. Bullet just grazed her.” Doc stood back a long while later. “I want to leave her a sedative. She needs to rest, take it easy for a day or two.”
“She can come to the ranch.” Brock had been unaware of Cade entering the room until he spoke authoritatively.
His brother stood with a concerned Marly at his side watching Sarah with brooding eyes. Cade was clearly pissed, it showed in the utter stillness of his body, the darkening of his eyes.
“No.” Sarah’s voice was firm, nervous now. Her expression mutinous. “I’m not going to the ranch.”
Silence filled the bedroom as all eyes turned to her.
“Sarah, someone tried to kill you.” Brock heard the throb of fury in his voice, even as he fought it. “You’re not safe here.”
He couldn’t get it out of his mind. The vile, vicious words the man had said to her before firing the gun.
“I’ll get security added to the house. I’ll buy a dog. I’m not leaving my home.” Hysteria mounted in her tone.
“Brock, leave her alone.” Doc frowned over at him. “If you’re that worried, you boys stay here with her until she’s in better control. Now is not the time to hassle her.”
Brock dragged his fingers through his hair roughly, worry and fear building inside him.
“Fine,” he bit out. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Sarah whispered desolately as the sedative Doc administered moments before began to hit her. “I’m not a plaything, Brock. I won’t go.”
Brock flinched, watching as her eyes slowly closed, her head finally relaxing against the pillows. He sighed roughly, his gaze meeting his brothers’. He saw the weary acceptance on their faces.
“I called Rick on the way here. He’ll be here with his team tomorrow. I’ll have a guard put on her if you can’t convince her to come to the ranch.” His voice was cold, hard. “This time, we’ll find the bastard.”
But that wouldn’t change Sarah’s fears. It wouldn’t change her feelings towards the family. Brock sat down heavily beside her, his
fingers touching her hair, her cheek.
“We have to,” he whispered, staring down at the woman who had held his heart for so long that she was as much a part of him as his brothers. “Because I don’t think I can live without her, Cade. I just don’t think I can.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It was dawn before the house cleared out. Cade and Marly were in another room, Sam was sitting up downstairs with plenty of coffee and a slightly illegal rifle that Cade had brought along. The lethal Russian AK47 was loaded and waiting for anyone stupid enough to try to get into the house with Sam on guard. And he was pissed enough to kill. Sarah was family now and they all accepted it, except Sarah.
The mattress had been flipped and remade until a new one could be bought, and Brock laid next to Sarah, holding her against his chest, his heart still thundering even now. He had almost lost her. Some maniac intent on destroying the August men had almost taken her from him. He buried his face against her hair, fighting the agony rising from his soul. What was it? The hard knot of brutal pain that clogged his throat? How did he ease it?
Along with sedatives, Doc had left pain pills. The wound at her shoulder wasn’t bad but it would be sore, he had assured Brock. She was sleeping comfortably now, resting against him. As long as his arms stayed around her, as long as his body shielded her, she didn’t become frightened.
“Brock.” Sam opened the door, his voice soft enough not to awaken if everyone slept.
“Come on in.” He was used to his brother knowing when he couldn’t sleep, knowing when the demons haunted him. It was the same for Brock, he knew when Sam was tormented as well.
“She doing okay?” Sam moved to the chair beside the bed, the rifle held loosely in his hands.
“She’s sleeping. That’s what she needs for now.” Brock sighed.
“Dillon showed up earlier, madder than hell,” Sam sighed. “Seemed to think we should be able to force her to the ranch.”
There was a question in his twin’s voice.
“She’s not ready, Sam.”
“We have to get her to the ranch, Brock.” Sam’s voice was imperative.
“She won’t go. Not yet.” Brock smoothed his hand down her arm. “It will take time.”
“We may not have time,” Sam said, his voice hushed. “What if the bastard strikes again?”
“Then I’ll be here.” Brock’s voice hardened. He would kill the bastard himself.
“I’ll have security added to the house as soon as I can get someone out here. Get her locks changed.” Sam planned. “It won’t be easy to protect her this far from all of us.”
A guard would be watching the house as well, Brock knew. They would keep her as safe as possible until they could convince her to come home.
“We’ll see,” Brock finally said softly. “I know what I have to do, Sam. I just know she’s scared right now. All the way to the bone scared and not just of the attacker or of us. She’s scared of herself.”
He had seen that the day before. The shocking excitement, the pleasure from the edge of pain he gave her. He hadn’t expected that from her and it added to the growing desperation to bind her to him. She met his needs and fired others he had no idea he had.
She shifted in his arms, a soft, plaintive moan that he clearly recognized easing from her lips. He saw Sam’s grin of amusement. She shifted her buttocks against the erection lying along the tender separation of flesh. He had been hard ever since crawling into the bed beside her.
“Would she let me watch?” Sam asked huskily.
Sarah moaned deeper, rubbing against Brock now, her buttocks clenching on his cock.
“Not yet.” Brock gritted his teeth at the sensations racing along the sensitive flesh.
He couldn’t do that to her. Not while she was unaware, reacting on instinct rather than common sense. She moaned again, pressing against him.
“Shit. I gotta get out of here before she makes me come anyway,” Sam sighed. “Lucky bastard.”
He rose from his chair, leaving the room quickly as Brock slid his fingers to the soft, curl-covered flesh of her cunt. She was nearly unconscious, in no shape for what she was begging him for. But she was hot, her honey dripping from between her thighs, soaking the thick curls that covered the little mound.
“Brock,” she whispered his name as his fingers slid into the saturated slit, touching her clit with the lightest touch as his other hand moved between her legs, his finger playing there, teasing the narrow entrance into her body.
Her head turned, her eyes glittering from beneath lowered lids.
“Fuck me,” she whispered, moving against his hand, her legs shifting. “Please, Brock. Now.”
“Sarah, you’re hurt,” he groaned, amazed that she was even awake. When Doc gave a sedative, he usually did it right.
“You’re hard,” she mumbled drowsily.
“And you’re sore and drugged.” He gritted his teeth at the warm grip of her cunt around his fingers as he slid them slowly inside.
“Fuck me and then I’ll go to sleep.” She moved against him again, lifting cautiously, angling her body until he removed his fingers from her soft heat and gripped her hip with his damp fingers. Groaning with his need, Brock let the head of his erection lodge between the silky lips of her cunt.
“God, Sarah,” he groaned as he pushed in slow and easy. Her inner muscles gripped him, drew him in, suckling at his flesh with such heat he didn’t know how long he could stand it.
It was like this every time he got his cock inside her. Like a furnace of lust, burning him alive with such intense desire he could barely sustain control. She was so damned tight he wanted to howl at the excruciating pleasure building from the grip of her body.
“Brock,” she moaned his name, her hips moving languorously, thrusting against him, taking by slow degrees until he filled her, his shaft buried to the hilt inside her.
“Easy,” he gasped, moving against her, holding her hips, not wanting to hurt her as he thrust against her. “Oh, Sarah, it’s so good, baby. So hot and tight.” His chest labored for breath, his stomach tightened with the fight to hold back his climax.
He moved his hand, his fingers delving between their bodies until he found the slick opening to her anus, coated with the lubrication of her cunt. His finger pressed gently, moving against her, slipping inside her to the first knuckle.
She stilled. He felt her breath halt, the tension that filled her.
“Relax,” he whispered at her ear. “Your body’s already relaxed, Sarah. It won’t hurt at all.” He slid his finger back, gathering more of the lubrication then sliding back in.
Her moan was harsh, her breath panting from her chest as her cunt tightened on the thick length of his cock, her anus gripping his finger with a hot bite.
“You like that?” Her breathless cry whispered through the room.
“Do you?” He pushed his finger deeper inside, his hips flexing, grinding his penis harder into her as she took him to the second knuckle.
“I think so,” she panted, the muscles easing around his finger.
“There you go, just relax, baby,” he soothed her, moving gently, easily inside the tender entrance of her body as his hips stroked his cock inside her vagina.
Her panting little cries told him she was eager, ready for him. Her inhibitions were lowered, her desires coming to the fore as he introduced her to the new experience. Her vagina gripped his cock tighter as his finger slid fully inside her. Small, light little thrusts of the digit had her breath hitching, her cream spilling over his cock as she accustomed herself to the new sensation.
“I want to get you a butt plug,” he groaned at her ear. “You wear it for a set time, daily, stretching the muscles there until they learn to loosen. I want to fuck you here, Sarah. I want to slide my cock deep inside while I fuck you with a vibrator. I want you to see how good it feels, baby. See what I can do for you.”
He moved his finger, his hips thrust his cock against her, gaining speed as the excitement bec
ame too much for him to bear, the breathy moans coming from her throat only drove him higher.
“Seducing me…” she panted. “You’re trying to seduce me.”
“I already have, baby,” he gritted out, driving himself deeper inside her, feeling the familiar tightening of his cock, the sensation of her cunt gripping him harder. She was close to orgasm but no closer than he was.
“No. For them,” she trembled as he thrust harder into her, her cunt beginning the tiny spasmodic shivers that heralded her climax.
“For me,” he corrected her. “Not for them, Sarah, just for me. All for me baby, because the pleasure is more than you can know.”
He drove himself deep, unable to hold back, unable to control the desperate flight into burning release.
“For this, Sarah.” He held her close, cushioning her shoulder, driving his cock hard and fast inside her as his finger mimicked the movements in her anus, the burning grip on his finger increasing as she shattered.
He exploded to the wash of her climax over his cock. The gripping, grasping muscles tightening, her creamy release soaking him, making him lose his last shred of control.
When the last tremors shook their bodies, he eased his finger from her and rose from the bed. He collected a warm, wet rag and a towel from the bathroom. As she watched him, silent, thoughtful, he cleaned her thighs, then dried them gently.
“Sleep,” he told her, crawling back in beside her, a tired breath escaping his throat. “You killed me baby. No more sex for you tonight.”
Her husky laughter had him smiling. When he looked into her face once again, her eyes were closed, her breath slowly evening. He settled his head on her pillow, took a deep breath and joined her in the darkness of exhaustion.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sarah dragged herself out of bed several mornings later, stumbling to the kitchen with a wide yawn as she headed for the coffeepot. Filling the machine, she walked to the fridge, pulling out a cold can of soda and popped the lid as she sat down at the kitchen table.
The house was silent. Almost too silent. The television that she usually kept playing low in the living room had not been turned on the night before. There had been no need to fill the house with sounds; her screams had filled silence instead. She would have blushed if she weren’t so damned tired. Her body ached pleasantly, the flesh between her thighs more sensitive than it had ever been. Her breasts were tender and she knew from her blurry perusal in the shower that they were marked with the proof of Brock’s passion.