“Just once before last year.” She stared down at her hands. “That was when he smashed my fingers.”
The doctor sucked in a breath but didn’t speak.
A muscle twitched in the cop’s cheek as he looked down at his notepad. After a second, he asked, “So today, you have a cut-up back. Anything else?”
Nolan spoke for her again. “From today, she also has a slice across her stomach from a knife. That’s when Z—Zachary—and I got there and stopped him. I broke the door down. He had a gun, tried to shoot me, and although chained, she managed to kick him from behind.” Nolan gave her such an approving look that she warmed all the way through. “The bullet went into the floor. We fought.” He touched his cheek and chin from where Kyler had hit him. “I hit him, and he fell back against the wood stove.”
“How do you know Mrs. Stanton here?”
“She does yard service for Zachary. I was going to hire her for my place and ended up dating her instead.” He kissed her palm then gave her a merciless look. “But you’re still going to have to landscape the place, sugar.”
She actually managed to smile at him and touch his warm cheek, although her fingers trembled. “I think I owe you that now.”
“Looks like a pretty clear case of self-defense,” the cop said. “Give me your name and address and all that.”
Nolan took out his wallet and fished out a card.
The cop glanced at it. “King Construction? You built the office complex down the street from our station.”
Nolan nodded.
The cop studied Nolan for a minute. “You’re military too, aren’t you? Like your buddy, Zachary. A vet?”
Nolan nodded again.
“No wonder. Nice work,” the cop said. “And you didn’t hear me say that. I’ll be in contact if I have more questions.” He walked out, shaking his head.
“Questions. They always have questions, always need more evidence.” The doctor scowled and raised his voice. “Marilee, bring me the camera.”
The nurse popped in a second later.
“Stay here as a witness, Marilee,” he said. “Let’s go ahead and document this clearly, just in case there’s any question down the road.” The doctor’s face was grim. He snapped pictures of Beth’s back, then taped up the whip marks and sewed up the ones too deep to butterfly or glue shut. More pictures on her front, and he sewed up the slice across her stomach. His exam was thorough, and he took a picture of every scar, from her hands down to her leg.
Through it all, Nolan sat quietly, holding her hand, and murmuring when something hurt.
As the doctor wrapped her wrists with gauze, Master Z walked into the cubicle.
“What is this, Grand Central Station?” the doctor snapped. “Who the hell are you?”
Beth actually giggled. “It’s all right. He’s the other one who saved me.”
“Well, fine then,” the doctor grumbled. He shook hands with Z, then grinned and looked from him to Nolan. “Good job, guys, and I don’t care who hears me say it.”
Nolan barked a laugh.
“Now then, I’m releasing you. Come back here or see your doctor if there’s any sign of infection. I’ll give you a prescription for pain—”
“I don’t want one,” she interrupted. “I won’t take them.”
“Ah. All right.” He rubbed his chin. “Tylenol or ibuprofen. Avoid aspirin for a couple of days. The nurse will be in to get you unhooked from the IV and give you instructions about the stitches.”
Shooed out by the nurse, the men waited in the parking lot for her. When the nurse wheeled her out, they helped her into Nolan’s truck.
“Are you all right, little one?” Z asked as he took the seat belt from her and fastened it.
Her friend count had been a little low, she thought, but seemed to be rising rapidly. She smiled at him. “I’m very much all right. I feel like I’ve been caught in a blackberry tangle, and someone just cut me free.” Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered, “Thank you so much.”
He actually grinned. “No problem, although Nolan had all the fun. Now go home and work on healing.” He rubbed his knuckles over her cheek. “You can expect to see Jessica soon.”
As the truck started, he glanced at Nolan. “Are you taking her to her apartment or—”
“She’ll be at my house,” Nolan said flatly.
“Excellent.” Z nodded and closed her door.
“Nolan…” Beth started. He shouldn’t have to take care of her. “I can go to my—”
“Don’t bother to argue. We’re both going to have nightmares. You will be in my bed and in my arms when that happens.”
Nightmares. He was going to have nightmares? Oh, God, he’d killed a man for her. She took his hand. “You killed him. I’m sorry, so, so sorry.”
He looked at her blankly before snorting. “I don’t have nightmares from killing cockroaches, sugar. But knowing he had you…hearing you scream…seeing you all bloody? Now that’s going to bother me for a long time. And you’re going to have to stay with me till it doesn’t.”
“All right.” She couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be. It seemed wrong to hope he’d have nightmares for at least three or four days, but—
He put the truck into gear. “I figure in a year or two, I might be okay.”
Chapter Fourteen
Standing in his kitchen, Nolan stared at the little sub and managed to keep the growl out of his voice. “You’re what?”
“I’m moving back into my apartment.” Beth took a step back, then crossed her arms and raised her chin.
The signs that she was getting back to normal pleased him, but she sure as hell didn’t have to go this far to prove she was feeling better. It had only been a couple of weeks. Reasonable. Be reasonable. “Why the hell would you want to go back there?” He winced at the snap in his voice.
She bit her lip, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.
He held her close and rested his cheek on the top of her head, remembering how she’d hugged Cullen. Did he look that bad? “Okay, sugar, tell me why.”
Her arms tightened. “I need to know that I can live on my own. I-I love being here with you, and I don’t want to go, but I have to.”
“Gutsy rabbit.” He could understand the need. He’d grown up in a family that firmly believed in the “face your fears” technique. But how did a man deal with the need to stand in front of a little rabbit and protect her from those fears?
“Not all that gutsy. It’s just, well, if I stay with you because I’m scared to be alone, well…that isn’t much of a relationship.”
She had a point. He wanted to ask her what kind of a relationship she thought they had, but didn’t. After meeting her sick fuck of a husband, he wasn’t about to put any pressure on her. When she was ready to let him know how she felt, she’d tell him. Although it felt like he might be old and gray before that happened.
He rubbed his cheek in her soft hair and inhaled her strawberry fragrance. He’d have to get her to plant a bed of strawberries so he could mash them against… “You know, I have a lot of kinky things I still want to do to you. You gonna be available?”
She giggled, a husky chuckling sound that lifted his mood. “You’re the Master. All you have to do is tell me to be, right?”
Wasn’t it a shame it didn’t really work like that. His power over her lasted only as long as they both wanted it to, and no longer. “Well then.” He could feel the healing scabs under her shirt and could feel how tense her muscles were. Going back to a place she’d been attacked couldn’t be easy. Maybe he’d just help her over the first hurdle. “I have a craving to see how loud I can make you scream in a tiny apartment. You have an apartment I can use tonight, sugar?”
Under his fingers, the long muscles of her back slowly loosened. “You know, I just happen to have one available.” She rubbed her forehead against his shoulder and whispered, “Thank you, Master.”
* * * * *
Nolan glanced at the cage in the corner. The male sub looked miserable but in no real physical distress. He strolled past and down to the next station where a Dom was securing his sub in the stockade. Tears already ran down her cheeks although the cane at the Dom’s feet hadn’t been used yet. She’d probably be a screamer.
Nolan stopped to scan the crowd around the door and the bar. No Beth yet. Where the hell was she?
A lesbian couple with the sub in saloon girl garb and the Domme in a very risqué sheriff’s outfit walked past, and Nolan eyed the sheriff’s bare legs appreciatively. Old West Night at the Shadowlands was one of his favorite themes; he was Texan, after all.
He shoved his Stetson back and slowed to check the whipping post that Z had brought out just for tonight. Using a whip in the main room meant roping off extra space to keep from nailing spectators by accident. Dressed in outlaw black, Sam had Deborah tied to the post. Nolan stopped to enjoy for a minute. The old sadist was a real master with that black snake whip of his. Deborah was already up on tiptoes and well on her way to subspace.