Battered Not Broken (4 page)

“Why don’t you and Ronan see about dinner
while I take care of our Gilly?”

With that, Max, clutching his jars of
medicines and bandages disappeared down the hall.

*

Max was thankful for the bottles and bandages
in his hands, they masked the fact that his hands shook and
twitched. Anger of the likes he’d never known coursed through his
blood, pushing it closer to boiling with every step he took.

Max stood outside the bathroom door, pausing
for a moment as he took a deep breath, releasing it slowly through
his mouth. Anger and nervous tension buzzed through his body now.
He needed to do his best to balance the anger of the beast and the
nervousness of the man while he spoke with and tended Gillian. Too
much of either would definitely scare her and push her away from
him, and them.

Twisting the knob with care, he nudged the
door open and stepped into the steam-filled bathroom. The
increasingly familiar scents of vanilla, lavender and mint
assaulted his senses, but now there was the added scent of his
favorite shampoo.

Max called out Gillian’s name, alerting her
to his presence.

“Gillian?”

“I’m still in the shower… I had a bit of
trouble and…”

Her voice trailed off to a quiet mumble he
couldn’t quite make out. When he turned the corner, he saw her
problem immediately. She had managed to drape the towel around her,
but couldn’t quite get it beneath her rear end, leaving that bit of
pale, delicate flesh exposed.

His eyes swallowed her body whole. Max hadn’t
managed to get more than a glimpse of her tiny form when she lay in
Ronan’s bed, but now he had the opportunity to see her—all of her.
From her water-soaked golden ringlets to her buttermilk skin and
luscious curves, Max could see it all. Her pale brown eyes locked
with his and a light blush dusted her cheeks before she looked
away.

Damn, he needed to get a hold of his lust and
rein it in. His cock was way too interested in what lay hidden
beneath Gillian’s towel. And if Conner was right about her past
abuse, it could very well be a while before he’d have a chance to
explore her body.

Remembering Conner’s words, Max looked at her
exposed flesh with new eyes. He picked up every discoloration and
marking which marred her beautiful complexion. Conner had been
right. Someone had harmed Gillian, grabbing, pulling, and possibly
even hitting her hard enough to leave bruises. Some looked weeks
old while the one on her neck looked fresh and new.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there and
stared at her, but by the time he finally snapped out of it, her
light blush had deepened to a bright red. Max stepped into the
shower and dropped to his knees before her, placing his jars on the
ground.

“Here, you hold this,” Max handed her some
bandages, “while I treat these sores.”

He wrapped his palm around her calf and
raised her foot, propping it on his thigh. She jerked her foot back
as if scalded.

“I can take care of it. Just leave the stuff
with me and I’ll be fine.”

“No, I’ll put the salve on and bandage you
up.”

He was doubly careful when he picked her foot
back up and replaced it on his thigh. She jerked it away again.

“Gilly, will you put your foot on my leg so I
can take care of you already?”

She didn’t seem to notice when he grabbed her
leg again and began working on applying the salve.

“Gilly? Since when did I become Gilly?”

Raw sores and blisters covered the tops and
sides of her foot, but the sole seemed to have fared well during
her trek. With soft touches, he smoothed the sticky medicine on her
various injuries before wrapping her foot in gauze. Removing her
foot from his thigh and grabbing the other, he answered her.

“From the moment Conner told me your name was
Gillian.”

She snatched her foot away again. Damn, the
spirits were testing him. He was going to have to develop the
personality of a saint if he had any hope of getting through this.
Every time he moved the towel rode higher on her thighs. Soon, he’d
be staring at her sweet mound, and more than anything, he wanted a
taste.

“You’re not Conner!”

Sighing, he placed her foot back on his
thigh. Of course she snatched it away again.

“Of course I’m not Conner, I’m Max. Do I look
like Conner to you?” He held up his hand to stave off her reply.
“Never mind, don’t answer that. To you, I must look like him.”

He picked up her foot. Before he even got it
to his thigh she’d snatched it back again. This was really
beginning to annoy him.

“You could have said something when you came
in. I asked for Conner.”

Sitting back, he let his eyes travel to hers.
“Conner and Ronan are making our dinner and I’m the one in the
family who knows first aid. I’m sorry I didn’t say something right
away, but I tend to forget not everyone can tell us apart.” Running
his hands through his hair, he dropped his eyes to his lap. His
cock was getting very interested in his half-clothed mate, even if
she was pissed. “If you want Conner to come in and bandage you
up…?”

“No,” she cut him off. “I was just surprised,
that’s all. You’ve…you’ve been nothing but kind to me. Please, I
appreciate you taking care of me.”

This time she placed her foot in his lap
without his urging and when his eyes moved back to hers, she gifted
him with the most amazing smile he’d ever seen. It was as if the
spirits had gifted him with the sight of heaven in his home.

Max broke eye contact before he embarrassed
himself, instead focusing his attention on the task of treating
Gillian’s foot. When that was done, he rolled to his feet, but bent
down to look her in the eyes.

“I’ve taken care of your feet, how about I
take care of your neck as well?.”

The blood drained from her face, leaving it
deathly pale and her eyes dropped to her twined fidgeting
fingers.

“I’m fine,” she whispered in a tiny voice,
almost too low to hear.

“No, you’re not, Gilly. You’ve got some nasty
bruising. If I was a betting man, I’d think someone did this to
you.”

“No.” Her eyes shot to his. “I…” She licked
her lips and he could practically see the wheels spinning in her
head as she sought a good lie.

“Let me guess, you had a run-in with a
door?”

Gillian’s eyes dropped to her folded hands.
“Yes, that’s right, a door.”

Sure it was.

“A door that happened to have four fingers
and an opposable thumb?” His hands covered hers, stopping her from
rubbing and twisting them together while stealing her attention.
“Gilly, you don’t have to tell me who it was, just tell me if
they’re coming after you. My brothers and I want to help you, but
we can’t if we don’t know some of what’s going on.”

Tears threatened to pour from her eyes and
his heart broke for her. From what he could see of her body, it was
apparent she was a strong woman who was willing to fight.

Sniffling, she shared her story with him.

“The door’s name is Kyle. He’s been following
me for about a week and keeps finding me. This…” she gestured to
her neck, “is from the last time he found me. I don’t want to drag
you three into this. I just need some time to rest and then I’ll be
on my way.”

“Gilly, how are you going to get out of here
without a car? Without warm clothes? You go out in the blizzard and
you’re as good as dead.”

Wiping the tears away, she stared at him. “My
car broke down at the beginning of your driveway. But I’d rather
the elements take me to my death than him.”

He believed it. Max felt the truth of her
words through his soul and knew if push came to shove, Gillian
would rather die in the cold than by Kyle’s hand.

“Okay, Gilly. We’ll take a look at your car
tomorrow if the weather allows it. But you’re staying with us until
it’s fixed. There’s no way we’ll allow you to go traipsing through
the mountain side dressed in jeans and sneakers.”

“But he’ll find me. And he’ll find you. I
don’t want that.”

“And we’ll protect you, Gilly.” As if
possessed, he cupped her cheek and his thumb brushed away her
single escaped tear . “The Bearclaw brothers can take care of
themselves and, if you’ll let us, won’t let anything happen to you
either.”

Straightening, he grabbed the robe Conner had
hung on a nearby hook and held it open for her. “Now, if we’re done
arguing, let’s go see what Ronan and Conner have made for us, shall
we?”

Max turned his head as she stood, trying not
to look at her nude body when she dropped the towel. He winced in
empathy when she groaned—the salve had some anesthetic properties,
but it couldn’t take away all of her pain. When she slid her arms
in, he released his hold and allowed her to wrap it around her
body. After she tightened the tie and turned around, he scooped her
into his arms, laughing at her high-pitched squeak.

“All set, beautiful?”

Gillian slid her arms around his neck and he
nearly groaned at her touch. When she laid her head on his
shoulder, her breath feathered across his skin and his cock took
notice.

“All set.”

Gillian stretched her tired, aching muscles
as she snuggled under the covers in the Bearclaws’ guest bedroom.
Over dinner she’d found out the room she guessed was the guest room
wasn’t the guest room at all. It was Ronan’s.

That had been an embarrassing moment. Sitting
around their kitchen table, scarfing down the dinner Conner and
Ronan had made, she nearly choked on a big hunk of steak when they
told her. Face burning, her eyes shot to Ronan’s. How could a man
surrounded by so much happiness have such a sparse, cold room? His
unblinking gaze rested on hers, as if challenging her, until she
dropped her eyes to her plate. His look spoke volumes; Ronan was a
man who had lived through a tremendous pain which he still carried
with him every day.

Their dinner continued, peppered with bursts
of laughter as the three men told stories of their childhood.
They’d told her all sorts of things about them under the guise of
storytelling and she’d realized they were good men. Now she felt
more comfortable around the three of them than she had when she’d
first awoken. After the brief conversation in the bathroom with
Max, no one brought up her bruises or why she wandered the miles
down their road. They treated her like an old friend stopping over
for dinner.

When Conner scooped her into his arms and
carried her to the guest bedroom, Gillian didn’t protest. She was
starting to get used to being carried around by the brothers. Then
again, Ronan still hadn’t touched her and she wasn’t sure if she
wanted him to.

The cold look in his eyes frightened yet
intrigued her. In one heartbeat she felt the need to comfort and
kiss the hurt away and in the next, she wanted to cower behind Max
and Conner. It was crazy. She shouldn’t want to do anything with
any of them. And yet she did.

Closing her eyes against the soft lamplight
in the bedroom, she pictured the three of them in her mind. The
natural honey tone of their skin pronounced their Native American
heritage proudly. Their hair was cut short, but there was enough
for a woman to wrap her fingers around.
Not that she wanted to,
or anything.
And then there were their eyes. They were the
color of the deep blue sea and Gillian half expected to see
dolphins swimming in their depths.

Once she’d finally calmed down, dinner had
been the perfect opportunity to stare at all three of them. True,
they were triplets, but there were subtle differences between them.
With the three of them surrounding her at the table, she could see
it now. Max was quick to smile and crack a joke, never seeming to
take anything seriously while they talked and threw insults at one
another. Ronan’s personality seemed to venture to the opposite side
of the spectrum. Smiles came, but seldom and never quite reached
his eyes. Conner appeared to be a balance between the two of them
with easy smiles with and a hint of vulnerability which lingered
beneath the surface. Their muscular bodies were the same, but
inside they were all different.

Geez!
Their bodies!
Their muscles had
muscles. Every inch she could see seemed chiseled and cut from
stone. With broad shoulders tapering to trim waists, she wondered
if they each sported a set of washboard abs beneath their shirts.
Their thighs bulged and shifted with each step they took and she
snuck more than one look at their backsides as they moved around
the kitchen, preparing their meal.
Heaven.
Gillian was in
hot man heaven and she didn’t want to ever leave. Too bad she
would…soon. Kyle didn’t leave her any choice.

Rolling over, she stared at the wall. Sleep
wasn’t coming and her bladder was making itself known. Throwing the
covers off, she hung her feet off the edge of the bed and stared at
the floor. Walking would have to happen to get to the bathroom down
the hall, but she wasn’t looking forward to it. Damn, it was going
to hurt, but what could she do about it—nothing. Easing off of the
bed, her breath came in great puffs as she bit her tongue to keep
from crying out.
Fuck! It hurt!

Padding across the room, one aching step at a
time, Gillian took a deep, calming breath when she reached the
doorway. Even with the salve and bandages, the pressure of walking
on her feet sent slices of pain up her legs. Fighting the urge to
moan and groan with each step, she leaned against the closed
bedroom door as she caught her breath. The seconds ticked by as she
waited for the majority of the pain to subside. Gathering her
resolve, she twisted the knob on the door and opened it to the
pitch-black hallway.

The moment her foot stepped across the
threshold, the door opposite hers burst open and Ronan stood before
her. Gillian jumped in surprise, her muscles tensing as her heart
beat like a hummingbird’s wings in her chest and she let out a
small squeak. Her hand flew to cover her mouth, preventing any
further sound from escaping.