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“Who knows? The outside is badly scarred, some of these are deep and infected. Treating them is going to be a bitch. The girl can’t or won’t talk. God knows if that’s down to mental damage or just…maybe she hasn’t been allowed to use her voice. There’s so fucking much that could be wrong, that she’s suffered through, that I don’t know where to start.”
Caleb pulled his Stetson off, set it on the counter behind him and then just ran his hand through his short dark hair. The stresses and strains of being law and order in such a small town were usually neither here nor there aside from the odd major incident. Still, his temples glistened faintly with silver hairs.
He traced his fingers lightly along the wounds on her back still to be seen to. “You’ve seen marks like this before, Con. Don’t bother to tell me you don’t know what made them,” he said with a bite to his tone. “I know your proclivities.”
Connor’s teeth snapped together in a snarl. “Jesus, Cal, that’s myprivatebusiness.”
“Sarah’s too professional to blab about what you do in your limited spare time, Connor.”
Anger roiled in the pit of his stomach. “What I do in my spare time is what Iam,Caleb. Your disapproval doesn’t change a damn thing. I can’t be something I’m not just because you don’t like what I am. Just because someone saw fit to take a fucking bullwhip to this girl doesn’t make them a Dominant, and it sure as hell doesn’t make me the same as them.”
“Dominant.” Caleb sneered around the word. “Is this what happens in that sordid little underworld of yours, brother? Women chained and beaten, scarred and tortured in the name of pleasure?”
“Have you actually heard the bullshit coming out of your mouth? If this is a consequence of BDSM, it had nothing to do with safe, sane and consensual. This is just depravity.” Connor slammed his hand down on the metal tray in frustration. The resulting crash made his patient jump. Before he could curse at his own stupidity, Jenna’s huge green eyes stared at him. “Fuck.”
“Sleeping beauty wakes.”
Connor snarled at his brother. He knew Caleb didn’t understand his sexual needs. Truth was, Connor didn’t expect him to. Between Connor, Caleb and Cain, there were only nine months between each of them. They had been as close as triplets throughout their entire childhood and teenage years, well into their early twenties.
As the eldest, Caleb had taken it hard when an ex-girlfriend of Connor’s had run to him and claimed sexual abuse. It had taken several embarrassing weeks of thorough interviews with both Connor and the ex-girlfriend before Caleb discerned the difference between sexual abuse and a disgruntled ex-girlfriend using a consensual BDSM relationship for revenge after Connor ended things between them.
The ex-girlfriend had left town red-faced and mortified.
Connor stayed in town, under the reproachful watch of his brother, and managed to evade Caleb’s sporadic bouts of judgement. He knew Caleb, ever the upstanding citizen, would never stand for anything remotely non-consensual. What Connor hadn’t realized was his brother had trouble distinguishing Connor’s lifestyle from that of a criminal.
And that hurt.
“Caleb, get out. You’re not going to start interrogating her before she’s even come to her senses.” He tugged an earbud free and forced a smile for his patient. “Hey baby. You’re doing so well. Just a little longer, think you can hold on for me?”
Her eyes rolled drowsily before she blinked them back into focus. They searched his face carefully. After a moment, she nodded slowly and seemed to drift back into sleep.
Until his asshole of a brother cleared his throat.
His calm, doped patient turned into a block of ice, frozen in place. Betrayal shone from her eyes when they locked on Connor’s. Every muscle in her body visibly tightened.
One wrong move and the shit would hit the fan.
“Jenna, baby, it’s okay. This is Caleb, my brother. You’ve already met my other brother, Cain, do you remember him from the bar? Caleb is the sheriff. He wanted to come meet you.”
She shook her head and writhed in the way of a toddler heading for a temper tantrum. Her breathing came fast and choppy, noisy inhales through the mouth followed by sharp exhales down her nose. Her hand whipped out and slapped at him when he tried to touch her arm.
Their tentative bond and the slender threads of trust which bound them together strained frantically. He could all but feel the fragile strands pinging loose one at a time.
“Jenna,” he crooned in a low voice. “Everything’s okay.”
He could see her choice in her eyes and knew there was nothing he could do to stop her. He held his hands up, watched her focus on them. “Sarah, I need you to take Cal into the kitchen. Make some coffee, whatever. Just go and go now. Not a word, Caleb. Not a fucking word,” he all but hissed when his brother opened his mouth to speak. “Go.”
All it took was one stupid movement. Connor saw terror flare across Jenna’s face as Caleb grabbed his hat from the counter in a barely restrained motion of violence. Before he could say a word or make a grab for her, Jenna had slipped off the table.
Her bony chest heaved, and Connor could hear her breath wheezing. She staggered back against the counter, no doubt adding to her bruises, before she gained any control over her legs. There was a slackness to her face that suggested the sedative had a tighter hold on her than Connor had expected.
She swayed, her eyes heavy as they swung from him to Sarah to Caleb and then to the door. She clutched his MP3 player in her hand like a lifeline.
“I can take her,” Caleb muttered.
“A goddamn gopher could take her right now.” Connor shifted his weight as Jenna inched her way toward the door. “Don’t move. Caleb, I swear to God if you—”
Connor cursed as Cal made the leap, his hand slapping the wall near her face and his arm braced to serve as a barrier. He wanted to bray the crap out of his dickhead brother, sheriff or not, when Jenna threw her hands up to protect her face and slid down the wall in a heap.
