Kerry

“I’m coming.”

I drop my head back to the pillow and stare up at the ceiling tiles.

I’m exhausted after a sleepless night of scans, probing and prodding, not to mention the midnight visit from Keith Blackfoot, who painstakingly questioned me on anything I might remember about the incident.

He insists I go over every detail of my day leading up to the accident, but when I mention Kim loading the box of books in the back of the car, the energy in the room instantly turns thick.

“Box?” Damian repeats. “How come I don’t know about this?”

A little confused, I turn from him to the detective. “But I told you about that last order last week—The one I didn’t have yet?” I don’t miss the sharp look exchanged between the two men. I’m guessing this information was not shared.

“I assumed it was in the mail,” Blackfoot says curtly. “I didn’t know your friend was holding it for you.” The implication hangs thick in the air. I glare from him to Damian and back.

“Look here,” I start, but Damian doesn’t give me a chance.

“How did Kim end up with your shipment?” he asks, his eyes steady on mine as he covers my hand with his, sliding his fingers between mine.

“Not sure,” I say honestly. “It was supposed to be shipped to the Durango store. I was waiting for it when Kim mentioned she’d received a box for me. It’s happened once or twice before that a shipping label had the wrong zip code on it or had part of the address torn off, and it ended up at the other address.”

“We need that box,” Blackfoot directs at Damian.

It’s Damian who insisted I give Kim a call before she finds out I got hurt from someone else. He correctly assumed she’d probably be pissed if I didn’t tell her myself. As it is, she’s pissed anyway. Angry and maybe even a little hurt I didn’t contact her last night. Damian offered, but I didn’t want to get her all worked up over some scrapes, bruises, and a concussion right before bed. Running a store with a baby at home is stressful enough, and I know sleep is at a premium.

But I knew he was right when he pushed the brand new phone he’d left me on the bedside table in my hand, and simply raised an eyebrow.

“Kim,” I say with as much patience as I can muster up. “Honey, I haven’t slept all night and I’m exhausted. The doc is about to release me, and then I’m going home to crash. I promise you if I need anything, you’re the first one I’ll be calling.” I feel bad playing the pity card on her, but I really do want to go home, dive into bed, and not surface until tomorrow.

“You won’t call,” she huffs, sounding a little insulted. “You’ll just do what you always do; handle things on your own.”

“Kim...” I feel guilt sticking in my throat. It wasn’t too long ago I had been hurt because Kim had kept some things from me. It had felt like betrayal. I’m about to change my mind when she gives in.

“I know, I know. Okay, fine. But I’m telling you, I don’t like the thought of you going to an empty house with no one to look after you. And please tell me you’re not driving yourself. Get a cab, or at least let me call Marya to pick you up.”

Shit. The store. That’s another phone call I have to make soon.

“Damian will drive me,” I tell her, my eyes locking with his. He’s been beside the bed all night. Even when they wheeled me from one test to another, he’d been sitting calmly in that chair when I got back to the room. After ignoring my insistence for him to head home, more than a few times, I’d given up trying. Sometime over the course of the night, I found myself expecting him to be there. A huge concession on my part but one that slipped in almost naturally overnight. And I hate admitting to myself that knowing someone has your back feels pretty damn good. Damn him.

“Damian is there?”

Shit.

“He showed up at the scene and forced his way into the ambulance.” I watch little lines appearing around Damian’s eyes as his mouth curves into a smile. Or maybe it’s a smirk. Either way, he looks more than a little amused. Irritating man.

“He stayed with you?” Disbelief is dripping from her voice.

“He wouldn’t leave.” I enforce, now full-on annoyed as I watch his smile get bigger.

“Let me talk to him,” Kim demands, throwing me for a loop.

“Why do you need to talk to him? I’m fi... Hey!” I throw daggers at the man in question when he snatches the phone from my hand, gets up to walk to the window, and puts it to his ear.

“Kim? Hey. I’ll look after her. I’ll give you a call later with an update. What? No, I’m not planning to. I know. Yes, I know.”

I can only hear his side of the conversation, and as soon as he turns and puts the phone down, I pounce. “What did she want? Planning to do what?”

“Relax,” he says with a smile as he sits back down. “She’s only looking out for you.”

“I know that,” I bite off ungraciously, not comfortable being the subject of discussion when I’m not participating in it. Talking to Kim reminded me to mention the box of books in the back of my car. I paid five thousand bucks for those babies, I didn’t want them to get lost.

I don’t have a chance to pursue it any further when the door pushes open and the attending with one of the nurses walks in.

“Ms. Emerson, it looks like you were lucky. Other than being a bit banged and bruised, eight stitches to close that cut on your head, and a mild concussion, you managed to escape without serious injury. You are free to go home.”

I barely let the man finish before folding back the sheet and swinging my legs off the edge of the mattress. “Told you I was fine,” I mumble stubbornly at no one in particular, before a wave of dizziness has me grab onto the side of the bed.

“Whoa—easy does it, babe,” Damian shoots out of the chair and stabilizes me with his hands on my shoulders.

“As I was about to explain,” the doctor continues rather sardonically, “you received a hard knock to the head, and even though there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage as a result, you’ll likely experience some headaches and occasional bouts of unsteadiness. You may want to take it easy for a few days. I’d recommend having someone check in on you regularly.”

“Taken care of,” Damian’s deep baritone sounds over my head, and I slump my shoulders in resignation. For now.

Leaving a sheet with instructions and a prescription for painkillers, the doctor exits the room.

“Sir,” the nurse who’d been silent up to that point directs at Damian. “If you’d give us some privacy, I’ll help getting Ms. Emerson dressed.”

“I think I can manage,” I sputter, having reached my limit of being talked about. “Been pretty proficient at it for at least forty years now.” I’m being facetious, but I’m tired and cranky, and my head is starting to pound like a son of a bitch.

The older woman shrugs her shoulders and points at a closet door over her shoulder. “As you wish. Your clothes are in there and feel free to call for help when you need it.” I’m not imagining the sarcastic tone of her voice but I shrug it off. Seems I’m not making anyone happy today. I’m glad to see the back of her when she leaves the room and pulls the door shut, a hint more firmly than is necessary.

“Nice to see you’re making friends.” Damian’s calm observation ruffles my remaining feathers but mostly because his remark cuts. He’s right, I’m being an outright bitch. “I’m gonna help you into the bathroom and quickly grab your clothes. Sit your ass down on the toilet if you get woozy. I’ll be right outside the door.”

I’m grateful when he does as he says, hands me my clothes and shuts the door, closing me into the bathroom. If he’d insisted on helping, I might’ve just let him and that has nothing to do with the fact his hands on me make me feel warm all over. Nothing at all.

DAMIAN

“How’s she doing?”

It’s the first thing Bella asks. I spoke to her briefly last night when Kerry was taken for a scan, wanting to warn her not to wait up for me. She’s immediately concerned when she picks up the phone.

“She’ll be fine,” I answer truthfully, even though I’m not just talking about the injuries she’s sustained. The entire picture is one that begs me to recognize these are not isolated incidents: the break-in at her store, the missing computer and list, and now a hit-and-run accident. My gut tells me this is all connected.

Thank God for the presence of mind of the truck driver last night. He not only managed to give police a decent description of the vehicle, but also part of the license plate number. On top of that, he’d reacted quickly when he saw Kerry’s Subaru teetering on the edge of the drop off and was able to drag her from the vehicle just seconds before it crashed down the mountain. Saving Kerry from being crumpled on the rocks, along with her car, thirty feet below.

Despite the recent steady flow of new investigations, which had taken precedence over the Interpol investigation, the case involving the stolen books and manuscripts just found its way back to the very top of my priority list.

I meant what I said. Kerry will be fine—I will personally make sure of that.

“Do you need me to do anything?” my sister wants to know.

“Actually,” I consider. “It would be great if you could grab me a change of clothes. She just went down for a nap, and I don’t think I should leave her. I’ll have Luna drop off my files and work from here for a bit. I’ll text you directions.”

In the pregnant silence that follows I can hear the wheels turning.

“Can I just say I’m thrilled right now?” she finally says, a smile evident in her voice. “Mama and the girls are gonna be over the moon.”

“Bella...” I groan, definitely not looking forward to fielding phone calls from all the women in my family. “I’m just keeping an eye out. She doesn’t have any family close by.” It’s not the only reason and I’m sure Bella sees right through it, but still I’m relieved when she concedes.

“Fine. I’ll let you off the hook for now, even though you and I both know what a load of crap that is.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” My sister makes me smile. One of the reasons we get along so well is her ability to call a spade a spade. Unlike my mom and my other sisters, who twist themselves into pretzels in attempts to be tactful and sensitive—something that grates on my nerves—Bella just gives it to you straight. In between the eyes with a two-by-four.

I quickly shoot her directions when I hang up the phone and proceed to dial the office. Jasper answers, apparently Luna is in the field, so I quickly tell him what I need.

I hang up the phone just as I hear a toilet flush. It’s barely been thirty minutes since she went down, so I’m a bit surprised to hear the soft slap of bare feet on the floor coming down the hall.

“You’re still here.” Her voice sounds groggy and no less tired than it did earlier.

I don’t respond, I just watch as she pads over to the couch, plops down and pulls up her knees, holding her head in her hands. Even with her hair looking more like a bird’s nest, the dark bags under her eyes, and wearing ratty old men’s pajamas, she still manages to stir me. Body and soul. I abandon my perch on the kitchen stool and go to sit beside her, putting my hand on her knee.

“Head hurts?”

“Hmmm...neck is killing me.”

“I bet it does,” I sympathize, shifting sideways with one leg propped on the couch and pull her toward me. “Turn your back to me, Kerry.”  For a moment, I think she’s going to refuse, but then she shrugs her shoulders and does as I ask. I’m tempted to pull her even closer into me, but given the current state of my body, she’s probably better off where she is.

“Oh my God,” she groans, the moment my fingers dig into the muscles between her shoulder blades.

Using firm steady pressure, I slowly work the tight knots out of the muscles in her shoulders and neck. The little pleasure moans and groans coming from her are sheer torture, and I finally resort to pulling a throw pillow in my lap. When I feel her shoulders start to slump, I encourage her to scoot down and put her head on the pillow. I curse myself for even suggesting it, but she seems to relax under my hands and she needs her rest.

“Stop moving, babe. You’re killing me,” I whisper when she shifts around, trying to get comfortable. Her movements stop immediately as she glances up at my face. The tension is largely gone from hers and replaced with a hint of humor in the tilt of her lips at my current predicament. She slips down a little further, relieving a bit of the pressure, and chuckles when I blow out a sigh of relief.

I slip my hands palms up under her, cupping one at the base of her skull and with the fingers on the other, I gently stretch the muscles in her neck, alternating occasionally. Her eyes are locked on mine, completely open and unguarded, giving me full access to her emotions. We don’t talk, and other than my hands on her neck and head, we don’t touch—Still, I swear it’s the most intimate experience I’ve ever had.

A few minutes in, I see her eyes flutter shut as her breathing deepens, and she finally falls asleep.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here—maybe an hour or so—just running my hands over her skin and hair while watching her sleep, when a sharp knock at the door snaps my head up. Kerry moves restlessly at the sound but quickly settles back down, allowing me to slip my hands and leg from under her.

My damn leg is numb from being folded under for so long, and I nearly do a face-plant in the little front hall. Jasper is outside, holding a box that has my laptop, a stack of files, and my portable scanner. I take the box from him and set it on the hall table, checking to see if he remembered my Rolodex, when he steps around me into the house.

“Hey,” I hiss after him, but he’s already moved into the living room and is standing over a sleeping Kerry by the time I catch up with him.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, and before I can yank him away, Kerry is already blinking her eyes at the intrusion.

“Dammit, Greene. Get your ass out of here,” I bark, no longer concerned about waking her since she’s already scrambling to sit up.

Jasper ignores me and sticks his hand in her face. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had the pleasure.  Jasper Greene.” His fucking smile is so bright, Kerry has to blink a few times against the glare before she shakes his hand.

“Kerry Emerson.”

“Greene,” I growl, as I watch Kerry trying to pull back her hand when he doesn’t let go. I aim a hard punch for his shoulder, which has him release his hold on Kerry and grab onto his arm.

“Damn,” he turns his big grin on me. “You still have some power left in that old body of yours, boss.”

Fuck. I know I’m letting him get to me. I open my mouth to let him have it when another voice joins in.

“Suggest you don’t poke the bear or you’ll find out exactly how much power my brother is packing.”

Bella stands in the doorway, all five foot and change of her, with her hands on her hips and her eyes throwing flames at Jasper, who looks—for once—lost for words. She must’ve walked right in the front door we’d left open. Kerry is just sitting on the couch, cross-legged in her threadbare, ugly-ass pajamas, watching the interaction with great interest.

“Now I know I haven’t had this pleasure.  Jasper Greene, at your service.” The idiot has his hand out again, this time approaching my sister, who looks at him like something she just scraped off the sole of her shoe. He really has no idea the kind of danger he’s putting himself in right now. My sister can be like a rabid Chihuahua, especially with men. It’s that I’m her brother, or her current hatred for all God’s creatures cursed with a Y-chromosome would have me shredded to strips with her sharp little canines.

I decide to intervene before blood flows. “That’s my baby sister Bella, Greene. Isabella, Jasper is one of my agents.” I emphasize the word baby on purpose, and Jasper reacts as I hoped, by immediately tucking his proffered hand in his pocket. Smart man.

A soft chuckle reaches my ears, and I turn to find Kerry’s smiling eyes on mine. In my peripheral vision, I see Jasper backing away from my sister and cautiously rounding her on his way to the front door.

“Yes, well...I should get back to the office,” he mutters. “Nice to meet you all.”

“You too, Jasper,” Kerry calls out to him, dissolving in a fit of giggles when Bella makes a growling sound by way of response.

The moment he pulls the door shut behind him, Bella turns to Kerry, her face morphed into one of sweet concern. “Nice to see you again, Kerry. How are you feeling?”

“Better. I...”

“Should be sleeping,” I finish for her with a stern look for my sister, who seems less than impressed.

“Don’t put that on me. Take it out on your cocky, self-absorbed pretty boy, who obviously thinks he’s God’s gift to women.” I smile at the description. Jas is all that with his long, lanky frame and California good looks. He looks more like a happy-on-life poster boy for Calvin Klein, with his sun-bleached hair and disarming smile, instead of a highly respected FBI agent with an IQ at genius level topped with some serious ninja skills. He knows how to use his looks to his advantage, but they’ve been more of a hindrance than a benefit in getting where he is today. I’m not about to tell my sister that, though. Let her think he’s a player. I don’t need her getting any ideas.

“I actually do feel a little better. I wouldn’t mind some coffee. Anyone else up for a cup?” Kerry stands up and gingerly moves toward the kitchen.

“I’d love one,” Bella pipes up and makes herself comfortable on the couch, ignoring my glare.

I follow Kerry into the kitchen, where she’s already scooping grinds into a filter. “I can send her home, you know?” I walk up behind her, boxing her in with my hands resting on either side of her on the counter. “She’s just dropping off my gear.”

“Gear?” she asks, continuing to prep the coffeemaker as if she can’t feel the heat radiating off my body only a few inches away from hers.

“Need a shower and some clean clothes. I figured you’d be out for a while, so I had Jasper drop off some work and Bella grabbed my stuff.”

Now she turns in my arms, her shoulder lightly brushing my chest. “You realize that may not have been the smartest idea, don’t you?” She smiles, placing a casual hand on my arm.

“I do,” I admit. “Now.”

Kerry flaps her hand in front of her face. “Those were some serious fireworks,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Don’t even go there, Gypsy,” I warn her, bending my head closer to steal a kiss. “I don’t want to know about those fireworks,” I mumble with my lips caressing hers. “Not with a nuclear fusion going on here.”