Nauti Siren
Page 13Just as quickly, Piper saw the reaction as well, if her sharply indrawn breath and the tension invading her body was any indication.
“No.” The harsh order that left her lips as Dawg stepped forward surprisingly had him stopping in his tracks. “It’s none of your business, Dawg.”
Rowdy and Natches were quick to move around them, their reactions no less as shocked as Dawg’s.
“None of my business?” Dawg all but wheezed, his expression tortured, as his cousins, positioned for a much better view, stared at her in horror as the sensors on the motion lights caught the movement and flipped on overhead.
“Oh, my God, Piper . . .” Agonized, Dawg’s voice roughed to a harsh, gut-clenching rasp.
Anguish filled the three men’s gazes and tightened their expressions as they stared down at her, obviously fighting to process the bruised condition of her face.
As though in one movement, their heads jerked to Jed, their gazes piercing as they stared at him.
Hell, his face was likely to take the brunt of six fists pounding on it before the night was over, because he was damned if he could give them what he knew they were silently demanding.
An explanation.
Now.
“She’s your sister,” he told Dawg, his gaze connecting with the other man’s, knowing he could make an enemy of him in this second. “You want answers, you’ll have to get them from her.”
“Let me down.” Piper struggled in his arms.
Put her down? Was she insane? The second Dawg saw her limping, he’d go damned ballistic.
“Fuck! I’ll be damned if I will.” Tightening his hold on her, he moved forward, more than surprised as the Mackays parted and allowed him to pass.
Pulling her keys from where he’d tucked them into his jeans at the hospital, he called back to the three men following them, “Her bags are in the truck, if you want to make yourselves useful and bring them in.”
At least one set of footsteps paused behind them.
“Like hell,” Dawg growled. “She can have them later.”
Jed shrugged.
“I should have stayed where I was,” she whispered. “Why didn’t I stay where I was?”
“They would have found out,” he warned her. “Want me to tell you how many contacts Timothy has on the police force there?”
“Where?” Dawg snapped behind him. “I thought you were just the fucking chauffeur?”
Holding her securely as he unlocked her door, Jed glimpsed her expression from the corner of his eye and restrained a sigh. She was shutting down fast. He could feel it, and he hated it. When Piper shut down, her rational and logic went out the fucking window, especially if she was dealing with her brother. She didn’t do confrontations well, though he knew she would never admit to it. She buried her fear instead and faced the world with a brutal ice that sliced her deeper than it did those she was facing, once she had time to think and consider what she said during those moments.
Stepping into her bedroom, he strode to the bed in the center of the small suite, laid her on it, then watched in resignation as she jumped from the mattress to face the three men entering the room behind them, the moment he placed her on it.
“Go home, Dawg.”
“God, Piper.” It was Natches who breathed out the protest. “Sweetheart, what the hell happened to you?”
Dawg looked like he had taken a blow to the balls and was having trouble catching enough breath to even fold to the floor.
“Don’t the three of you have wives and children of your own to torment?” She questioned them harshly as she tugged at the soft cotton material of the blouse she had worn home.
The light, neutral tone of the gray blouse did nothing to hide the damage done to her fragile face, or where it extended along her shoulder and into the scooped neckline of the garment.
It was one of her creations, he knew—one she was exceptionally proud of. Unfortunately, the light color only emphasized the darkness of the bruises.
“Who did this?” Dawg grated, his voice harsh.
Piper drew herself up, the last hint of any emotion leaving her face.
“I said leave.” The demand in her voice was impossible to miss.
Just as arrogant, just as condescending as Dawg could be himself, she faced him with icy refusal, her gaze never flickering beneath the fury in his.
“Dawg, let her rest.” Jed placed himself between them. “Ordering her isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
Dawg’s fists clenched at his sides, the need to strike out, to take vengeance, clear in his expression and the tension in his large body.
“Get out of my way, Jed.”
“Get out of her room!” Jed countered, determination hardening his voice. “You’re not going to yell at her, and you’re sure as hell not going to attempt to force answers from her. Just go home and see if you can’t ask nicely next time.”
Who was more surprised, he wondered, when the three Mackays did just as he ordered—turned and left without another word—himself or Piper?
“This isn’t good,” Piper muttered, suddenly aware that she could have pushed her brother right over an invisible line none of them had known existed. “Dawg never just leaves.”
Jed turned back to her. “I think you should have told him, baby. But we’ll see what hardheadedness gets you first.”
The smile he gave her was as chilly and polite as her tone was to her brother, but far more mocking.
She stood there staring back at him, the vulnerability he could see her fighting—and the need and the hurt hiding behind the chilly facade—breaking his heart.
He turned and left, just as the Mackays had. He had no other choice. Because as pissed as her brother and cousins were, she had no idea he was even more so.
She had left without him, faced danger without him, and been determined to handle it all on her own—without him. And now, even knowing he would have to face the full force of the Mackay fallout, she wasn’t volunteering enough information to her brother and cousins to even give him hope that Dawg, Rowdy, and Natches wouldn’t try to kick his ass to hell and back.
And he still couldn’t imagine betraying the trust she had placed in him. Even knowing the enemies he could make, the budding friendships that could be destroyed. The Mackays were strong friends to have, but they could be brutal enemies, too. But, Jed had realized the second he had walked into that fucking hospital room that nothing mattered more to him than being with Piper. Protecting her, touching her, having her.
Nothing else mattered.
No matter what.
Dawg stood next to the pickup, his wrists hanging over the edge, his head bowed, and he had no idea how to unknot the burning fist growing in his chest.
Where was Christa? God, why hadn’t he brought Christa with him? She could have talked to Piper, could have made her understand that he had—he had—to make certain whoever hurt her never—fucking never—hurt her again.
He felt as though every breath he was trying to take was restricted.
“Fuck, hurts to breathe,” he muttered.
“No shit,” Rowdy was hoarse.
Natches wasn’t speaking.
As he wiped his hand over his face, car lights sliced into the parking lot, drawing his gaze as he found himself staring at the little car he’d bought Christa several months before.
As it pulled to a stop behind the truck, it wasn’t just Christa who stepped from the car. Rowdy’s wife, Kelly, and Natches’s wife, Chaya, moved slowly toward them.
It was Natches who moved first.
Two steps and Natches was pulling Chaya into his arms, burying his face against her neck and holding on tight as Christa moved slowly to Dawg.
“Jed called,” she told him. “He told us everyone was safe, but you might need us?”
Her hand, so delicate and fragile, settled against his arm.
“What’s wrong, Dawg?”
His throat was so fucking tight. Hell, he hadn’t felt like this since the night he learned Christa had lost their child so long ago. Like tears were burning in his gut and refused to be shed.
“Someone beat her.” His voice was grating, so rough he barely recognized it as he turned to her and pulled her to his chest. “Christa, someone beat her face and she won’t let me help.”
He couldn’t understand it.
It was tearing him apart. His guts were being ripped straight out of him and he couldn’t make it stop.
“Who? Who, Dawg?”
“God. Piper,” he snarled, so furious with her, so broken inside he had no idea how to find all the pieces. “Piper, Christa. She just fucking disappears, then comes back, her face swollen and bruised, and she won’t let me help.”
“Did you offer to help, baby?” she asked gently, her expression understanding, knowing. “Or did you demand?”
He had asked. Hadn’t he?
“You demanded, didn’t you, Dawg?” she guessed. “All ready to charge ahead and exact vengeance.”
“Someone hurt her.” It didn’t make sense that she wouldn’t want vengeance.
He shook his head fiercely. “You have to make her tell me—”
“Dawg, you can’t make Piper do anything.” She sighed. “She’s home; you know she’s safe. Give her time to come to you.”
He shook his head.
“You’re just going to piss her off,” Chaya stated as Natches lifted his head from her shoulder and moved away several paces. “She’s too strong to break down and cry, or let herself be treated like a child. You’ve hassled her for a year; now it’s time to go home.”
“She won’t stay safe.” He shook his head; it didn’t make sense to him.
“And here she’s a Mackay. Go figure,” Christa murmured.
“We’ll find him.” This time it was levelheaded, “think about it first” Rowdy. “We’ll find him, Dawg, and when we do, he won’t be able to hit another woman.”
Natches, Rowdy, Chaya, and Kelly moved to the truck Dawg had driven to the inn as Dawg moved to the car with his wife. For the first time, Christa noticed, she didn’t have to fight over driving.
Dawg moved to the passenger seat as she slid under the wheel.
“I need to go home.” He breathed roughly. “I need my girls.”
Her and his daughter.
She held back the secret she’d learned earlier. The news that their daughter would have a brother or sister. News that she feared would only make Dawg more protective, even as it made him more loving.
The drawback?
His feared inability to protect those he loved was breaking his heart, and that was breaking her heart. Because there was nothing she could do to ease his pain or to make those he loved, besides herself, understand the demons that tormented him.
Perhaps it was time she, Kelly, and Chaya had a talk with the stubborn and just as determined Mackay sisters.
ONE WEEK LATER
“Good morning, Mr. Samson; I hope you enjoyed your breakfast?” Piper met Guido Samson in the hall outside his room and gave him a warm smile.
The new lodger was a bit portly, his black hair thick, with a slight wave in the shortened length that was brushed back from his face to reveal a hint of gray at the temples. Dark, swarthy, just showing the lines of advancing age, he looked to be in his late fifties, though Piper bet he was in his early sixties.
He’d been at the inn four days and was already making his presence known, mostly by pissing Tim off. It seemed Guido couldn’t help but flirt outrageously with Mercedes Mackay.
“Ah, Miss Mackay.” He stopped, holding his hand out to her.
As Piper extended hers he took it, raised it to his lips, and pressed a light kiss to it with charming ease before releasing it. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">