Bringing Delaney Home (Cates Brothers #1) (11 page)

The nightmare that used to freak her out once or twice a week was now showing up nightly. It always started out the same, but it had taken a heinous twist.
Blood. Screams. Pain—sharp and searing. The hand, every night reaching out to her for help, which she never gives. She’s immobilized. Her gaze stares down into a pair of big brown eyes. A child? Blood splatters across the child’s face. A wave crashes into her, dragging her out into a sea of blood. Her heart pounds as a shark brushes her leg. The shark clamps on, razor sharp teeth slicing into her foot, and drags her down
. Down deep into her own hellish never-ending rabbit hole. Every night, she’d wake with her heart racing, sweat-soaked, afraid to dig for details, and even more afraid to go back to sleep.

She knew the nightmare was about the explosion, but she couldn’t figure out whose liquid brown eyes were looking up at her. And why she ignored the cry for help. She’d wake up struggling to breathe just as the ocean of blood filled her lungs.

Sleep’s decision to play twisted games with her had her practically mainlining anything with caffeine. The growing exhaustion was taking a toll on her chances of winning Miss Congeniality anytime soon. People at the gym had started to leave a wide swath of space for her to be alone in.

Except Quinn. No, Quinn Cates made it very clear what he wanted, only he didn’t know what a bad bargain she was—physically and emotionally. He had no respect for her bubble of personal space. He made sure his hot, toned, sculpted body entered her bubble at least once a day. He’d look at her with his light blue eyes with the melt option turned on and make it real personal. She shivered when the heat from his body warmed her cool skin every time he leaned in and adjusted her rowing machine (which didn’t need adjusting) or checked the cables on the back extension machine (that she had already checked). He’d get so close, she’d smell his Ivory soap with a hint of dark musk that made her want to lick him all over. And that pissed her off, so she’d direct all that anger into her workout, which was not good for her injured leg.

Her injured leg hurt like a bitch. Of course, it was her own fault she was still wearing the older, temporary limb since she’d missed the final fitting for her new modern prosthesis when she played hermit for a few weeks. No room for doctor’s appointments when you’re busy not sleeping, watching
Sesame Street
, and dulling your pain with wine.

You’d have thought that mistake would have taught her she couldn’t hide from her problems. Nope. Her phone was filling up with messages from her doctors, but calling them back meant answering questions she didn’t have the answers to. Reality was knocking on her door letting her know she couldn’t put off calling them forever. Thank God the nurse in her wouldn’t let her neglect the daily care to maintain her prosthesis. It was probably why she was still managing. Barely.

She was so close to the edge of imploding she could feel the hum in her nerves and blood. There was a buzzing in her brain. She was nitroglycerin in a test tube about to simmer over. Pain shot up her injured leg, but that was fine with her. Pain she could handle. It was putting her life back together that was knocking her on her ass. She sucked in a lungful of air, tightened her hold on the treadmill, lowered her head, and walked faster.

Quinn was heading home from work, still grinning over his last call. He didn’t mind working nights, but he much preferred day shift. Climax was a sleepy little town overnight. After his years of being a three-sport athlete in high school and college, he was used to staying busy. His mom used to say staying busy was what kept her boys out of trouble. Well, except maybe for Tynan.

He’d been busy this morning, but it wasn’t the kind of busy he preferred. Rescuing kittens from trees, helping change tires, chasing down shoplifters, or investigating break-ins was the kind of busy that kept work interesting. Working accidents in front of the high school, on the other hand, was just plain painful. Literally. It had taken twenty minutes of listening to the youngest Marshall girl cry over the dented hood of her brand-new Mustang before she’d calmed down enough for him to fill out the accident report. Hell, it was a sweet car. It was all he could do not to cry along with her. He liked to stay busy, but not with paperwork and definitely not with crying teenagers.

The day got a little more interesting when Ol’ Jeb McClatchy’s meanest steer decided to escape his fencing over on Weaver Dairy Road. They were able to answer that age-old question, how many cops does it take to move an ornery steer out of the road? More than they had. They were about to call in the vet to tranquilize the beast, when it caught the scent of Officer Rojas’s peanut butter crackers. Scared the heck out of Rojas, but they’d quickly laid down a trail of crackers and darned if the old steer didn’t just eat his way back into the pasture.

He was heading home when he saw Delaney’s Jeep parked in front of the 24/7. Without thinking, he turned his truck into the gym parking lot. He couldn’t help it. He was beginning to think she was his true north and damn if he wasn’t trying to reorient his life in her direction.

He walked into the gym still in his police uniform, figuring he’d just catch a glimpse of Delaney before heading home. He stopped at the front desk, where Greer stood talking with Gage and Hawk. It was early afternoon and the gym was buzzing with the afternoon rush. High school jocks and gym rats were grunting and sweating over by the squat rack and bench press area.

On the opposite side, everyone had wisely left one corner of the gym to Delaney, who walked the treadmill while ignoring everyone else. Even Barbara, who tried to offset her lush figure wrapped tightly in a metallic purple leotard against Delaney’s dark baggy sweats, seemed to know not to get too close. She fluttered around with some light weights while walking in a wide circle around Delaney’s treadmill. When even that didn’t seem to get the attention she wanted, she made a beeline for the front desk.

Barbara squeezed herself in between Quinn and Gage and leaned against the desk, rubbing up against them both. Both men stepped to the side.

Greer snorted, and then turned to watch Delaney. “Hey, Quinn, how would you say Delaney’s workouts went this week?”

“Other than showing up, I wouldn’t know. She’s like a wounded animal. She won’t let us near her. She won’t let us develop a workout for her.” Quinn shook his head. “She’s just going through the motions for you.”

“Isn’t it sad some people are so vain they make a big deal out of one little injury?” Barbara pondered aloud.

Greer’s eyes flashed toward Barbara and then back to watch Delaney.

“It’s pretty amazing what some people will do to get attention. I mean, I remember the pain I was in when I tore the ligament in my heel last year,” Barbara said. “You didn’t hear me whining about it six months later, did you?”

“You fell off your high heels, Barbara,” Greer said. “The whole gym had to listen to you complain for months afterward.”

Barbara turned a disdainful eye on Greer. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but Delaney’s accident was almost one year ago. I’d call that milking it, honey.”

An angry snarl rose from the treadmill zone. Quinn pushed off the counter to intervene, but Greer stopped him with a hand on his arm and a shake of her head.

“That figures,” Barbara complained. “She doesn’t have enough attention so she’s moving on to throwing a fit to get it.”

“Jayden! Heads up at the squat rack!” Hawk called over to the trainer closest to the high schoolers in the corner. “These freshmen don’t know dirt about securing weights.”

Quinn tracked Hawk’s gaze over to the far side of the gym, where one skinny high schooler was trying to out-lift his friend in an overhead squat. Jayden hustled but was still two steps too far away to help fix the situation. “Cover your ears.”

Maybe if Delaney had seen the weightlifter drop the weight, she could have stopped her reaction. But she didn’t. Metal weight plates hit the floor with an explosive crash. After the first crash of the forty-five pound plate, the weightlifting bar, suddenly lighter at one end, tipped the other way, allowing two other plates to slide off with a harsh metal clang on the gym floor. The successive blasts were a shock to her system. She instinctively let go of the treadmill to cover her head and ears. She stumbled, which caused her prosthetic leg to slip out from under her and she landed on her knees, only to slide off the end of the treadmill. One last clang of the barbell onto the floor had her huddled into a ball with her whole body shaking.

Her heartbeat pounded in her head and fluttered painfully in her chest. Life slowed down to a series of slow-motion freeze frames. Her ragged breathing amplified in her head as if it was being piped over loudspeakers. When the fear gripping her ebbed, the anger flowed in like a stormy tide. All her tamped-down anger erupted up from the deep place she’d crammed it.

Unaware of the silence in the gym, Delaney struggled to her feet. “Dammit!” She reached out and started grabbing and throwing anything nearby. Her gym bag, her towel, her water bottle, a medicine ball, some high schooler’s backpack. Her throws were wild and her anger so frantic, she couldn’t keep her balance and fell on her butt again. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” Delaney’s hands shook as she pulled frantically at her baggy sweats. Finally stripping down to her shorts underneath, she scrambled up, flinging the sweatpants off to the side.

All eyes in the gym watched the sweats fly through the air.

“Son of a bitch!” Delaney bent down, unstrapped her prosthesis, and threw it as far as she could. It hit the mirror cracking the corner of glass, raining glass down in glittering shards. Delaney dropped on her ass for a third time and stared at the shattered mirror as she wiped angry tears from her eyes.

The gym stayed silent. It wasn’t the shards of glass on the floor that held everyone’s attention, but Delaney’s size-seven neon-green running shoe with her prosthetic foot in it.

“Holy crap,” Gage and Hawk both said.

“What the hell, Greer?” Quinn could not take his eyes off Delaney. He had to grip the counter in front of him because the shock had him swaying.

“Oh, shit,” Hawk said. “I’ve seen that reaction plenty of times before. I don’t think she was in a car accident. I’d bet my house she was in the war.”

“
What
?” Damn if his decision five years ago to avoid hearing about Delaney’s life hadn’t just bit him in the ass. Quinn’s gaze speared Greer anyway. “Is that true? Where?”

“Afghanistan. Hey, I told you she was in an accident. I just didn’t tell you what kind. She didn’t want anyone to know. The gossip mill jumped to the conclusion it was a car accident, and you jumped right along with them. I’m sorry.” Greer bit her lip as she looked back toward Delaney. “I’ll pay for the mirror.”

Quinn was still caught in the undertow, unable to find firm footing or a lucid thought. In his gut, though, he knew this was a game changer. All these weeks he’d been rearranging deck chairs while Delaney’s Titanic was sinking. No wonder she thought he was an idiot. “Don’t worry about the damn mirror.”

“Um . . . what just happened?” Barbara asked in a high-pitched voice.

Greer turned back to the front desk to glance at Barbara. “Yo, Gage—grab Barbara. She’s going down.”

Gage turned just in time to grab her as she fainted. “Yeah, pretty surprising, your sister. Look at that sweet ass she’s been hiding under those sweats all this time.”

“Gage, you’re an idiot.” Hawk still looked over at Delaney.

“Quinn.” Greer grabbed on to his sleeve. “Get over there and talk to her. She needs to see people act like this is no big deal. Go over there and act like it isn’t a big deal.”

“It’s a pretty big fucking deal, Greer. One you should have told me about.” His body was frozen in his spot. Hell, that wouldn’t do. He headed in Delaney’s direction, each step heavier than the next, as if he were wading through quick-drying cement.

“She does not need pity,” Greer hissed after him.

“That is probably the only thing I know right now.” He ground out the words from a throat too tight to swallow or breathe.

Quinn stopped next to Delaney, searching his brain to find something to say and coming up empty. He looked down at her, his shaking hands safely hidden in his pants pockets. “Hey, Laney. What are you doing?”