Natalie Acres (29 page)

Brock slowly turned his head and said, “I could be. If he violated you in any way, I swear to you, I could be.”

Hours later, detectives bombarded Trixie with questions. Doctors and nurses probed her with needles, blood pressure cuffs, and thermometers. And mere minutes after the convoy of strangers left, the familiar arrived.

After they made a fuss over her, things sort of fell in place and swung back toward the realms of normality, at least by Cartwell standards.

Her father ranted in the phone, pacing her hospital room and threatening everyone but the governor as he tried to negotiate Brock’s release. Finally, Kimberly ran everyone out of her room and sat beside her, holding her hand.

“Where’s Mitch?” Trixie asked in her drowsy state.

Kimberly looked down. “I’m sure he’ll be along soon.”

“Don’t do that,” Trixie said, her head rolling from side to side.

“Don’t put me in the middle of this,” Kimberly said, thumbing the door. “Daddy Kane can’t even look at me as it is. I don’t want to come between the two of you.”

“He told Mitch not to come.”

Rory entered the room and took a seat next to her. “Kane has his reasons for wanting him to stay away.”

“I need him here,” Trixie said, groaning when she rolled to her side. “Please tell him. I need him here.”

“Get some rest, baby,” Rory said, stroking her forehead. “Things will be all worked out when you wake up. I promise.”

She lifted her head away from the pillow but fell against it as quickly as she realized her struggle was in vain. “Tell Daddy to come in here. I want to talk to him.”

“He’s on the phone with an attorney trying to have Brock’s bond posted.”

“Bond? Why?”

Rory’s lips twitched. “Well, he interfered with an arrest. He drew an unregistered weapon and he then resisted his own arrest.”

Trixie had forgotten the last part. In fact, everything was a blur now. The whole episode seemed like a terrible nightmare.

“I need to see Brock.”

“He will be here soon,” Kimberly promised.

“Where’s Ansley?”

“Where do you think she is?” Daddy Kane asked, reentering the hospital room. “Sometimes I swear she thinks Brock is her real brother. She’s at the police station pitching a fit.”

Trixie laughed and immediately moaned, wrapping her arm around her bruised torso.

Kimberly patted her hand. “Relax, honey. Brock is in good hands. Besides, if I know Ansley, she’s sitting behind bars with him by now. They’re probably both in a holding cell trying to figure out how they can escape before morning.”

“A regular Bonnie and Clyde, hmm?” Trixie teased, feeling the morphine threatening to take her under.

“They are,” Kimberly said, clutching her hand. “Ansley gets it honest. I hear our big sister provoked a lunatic, called him out by name more or less.”

“I had to,” Trixie said. “Once the sun came up, he planned to leave the rest area. If he had made it out of that rest area, there’s no doubt in my mind, he would’ve tortured me.”

“Did he threaten to kill you?” Rory asked.

“Look at her,” Kimberly said. “Are you really so jaded that you can’t see what that man was capable of?”

Kimberly and Rory were close but since she’d arrived at the hospital, she’d been as snippy with him as her father had been. Trixie nodded off, trying to fight the medication but failing to succeed.

“Tell Brock. Tell Mitch. I love them. Tell them, Rory.”

“I will, baby.”

“I love you, Rory.”

“We all love you, baby.”

She slipped into a realm of unconsciousness and was immediately greeted by a few dancing clouds.

* * * *

“Ow!” Trixie jolted to an upright position, yanking at her IVs and trying to free herself from the bed.

“Hang on there, my fighting lioness,” Brock said, grabbing her hand and trying to settle her down.

Mitch hooked his arm over her head and leaned in where she could see him. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut but what he could see of her pupils showed haunting disturbance. “Baby, we’re here. I want you to calm down for me, okay?”

“Shit,” Kane grumbled from the corner. “I can’t stand this.”

He marched out of the room and a few minutes later, a nurse entered the room. “Her father said something is upsetting her.” She glowered over them. “Since both of you seem to have a vested interest in her, I think it would be best if she doesn’t have company right now.”

“I’m her husband,” Brock said.

“I’m also her husband,” Rory said, rising from a bench located under the elevated television.

“And I’m Mrs. Santa Claus bearing great gifts for all the good little boys and girls.” She pointed to the door. “Out.”

Mitch glanced at her nametag. “Marie, I’m Mitch Colony.” He stuck his hand out. “We own Cow Camp over in Abingdon. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. We used to bring our campers here back in the day.”

“Back in the day?” she asked, her voice pitched an octave higher. She ignored his hand. “Was that before or after you went to prison for killing a man, Mr. Colony?”

Mitch flinched. He dropped his arm and said, “I see some things never change. Give a woman a wee bit of power in a place like this and she rules the fucking world.”

“Mitch,” Rory snapped, easing beside the bed and kissing Trixie’s forehead. “We’ll be right outside.”

“Yes, dear. They’ll be outside until my shift ends—eight hours from now.” She grabbed Trixie’s chart and slapped it against her hip.

Brock didn’t move. He splayed his legs and crossed his arms. “I’m not going any damn where. I’m her husband.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll talk to security.” Marie swayed her hefty hips as she walked to the door. “I know who you boys are. You had quite the reputation back in the day. I don’t care where or when you married this girl. I don’t care how many women you’ve corrupted or how many men you’ve killed or tried to kill…” Her gaze settled on Brock. “You will leave this hospital room or security will remove you.”

She marched out and a few minutes later, a code was issued throughout the hospital. Brock stood. “I’ll handle this.”

Mitch shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Trixie tossed and turned, dozing in and out. She didn’t try to remove her IV again but she muttered their names a few times. Each time Mitch’s name slipped from her lips, a few choice words followed—dick, pussy, cock, and other select words randomly fell from her lips. Typically, she only used those words during fits of passion.

Mitch felt his mouth turn up in a smile.

“What are you grinning about?” Rory asked.

“She’s all grown up,” Mitch replied.

Rory frowned. “Let me guess. The stunt she pulled earlier led you to believe that she’s matured nicely while you’ve been away?”

“Leaving Cow Camp was a stunt. I’ll give you that, but let’s rewind the clock and revisit the time when Stephen kidnapped her. It was everyone else’s fault. She was also the victim. She didn’t fight back. She waited—because she knew we’d come for her—for someone else to find her and save her.

“I’m proud of her. She didn’t wait for somebody else. She used her head.”

“She could’ve gotten herself killed, Mitch,” Rory said. “She provoked a madman.”

“He’s right,” Ansley said, entering the room. “While I was down at the station, I overheard a few cops talking about what happened. Apparently, Cash Whitehead has raped countless women. The more brutal rapes were endured by the women who fought back.”

“And Trixie provoked him,” Rory said. “She’s lucky to be alive.”

Mitch studied her swollen face, the cuts and bruises fully formed and embedded in her pretty skin. She was a fighter, and regardless of her reasons for picking on the bully and calling him out as a wimp, she was also a survivor.

* * * *

Kane was on the phone, but Brock didn’t give a damn. He stalked over to him, took the phone from his hand, and slapped the device closed. “Call off your dogs.”

“What are you talking about?” Kane asked. “And hand over my damn phone.”

“You really want to have me removed from Trixie’s room?”

“Did you hear me say that?”

“Kane, I’ve always gotten along with you. You’ve been like a father to me and for some reason, you’ve chosen now to turn on me and while I can understand your frustration—and trust me, I can—I can’t understand why you would pull me away from your daughter’s hospital room when she needs me most.”

“I should’ve left your ass in jail,” Kane said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and marching away.

Brock noticed the security guards approaching from the other end of the hall. He turned to Kane once more. “Kane Cartwell, if you don’t stop this nonsense right now, when we leave here with Trixie, I swear to you I will return to Fletcher, put our house on the market, gather up my children, and move my family to Abingdon. Is that what you want?”

Kane rushed him then. He clenched his fists. “You think you want to test me, boy? Do you?”

“I want to get along with you but I will not let you or anyone else stand in my way of taking care of my responsibility.”

Kane snarled. “Except Colony?”

“That’s what this is about?” Brock asked. “You’re upset because Mitch is back in Trixie’s life?” He paused. “And somehow that is my fault?”

“You know what he is. He’ll have her collared, leashed, and living in a damn cage if she’ll go along with it.”

Brock snickered. “Believe me, Mitch’s reputation is earned, but he will not cage your daughter. I only know of two men who have caged their women—one of them is your neighbor and the other one is—”

“Well there’s my favorite brother-in-law,” Ansley said, joining them in the hallway. “Trixie will be awake soon and she’ll be asking for you again.”

She shot Brock a stern glare. Apparently Kane didn’t know about Neely’s steel cage and Kimberly’s house of horrors.

“Security is at the nurse’s station. Go see Marie and handle this.” Brock took a few steps. “Kane, I’d like to make amends, but if you can’t accept your daughter’s choices, then that’s your problem. Not mine. I won’t keep Trixie from the people she loves.”

“Then you’d better think about that before you threaten to move her to Virginia.”

Brock shrugged. “What can I say? I play the cards I’m holding in my hand. And your daughter? Well, she would move to South Holston Lake tomorrow.”

“There’s nothing for her in Abingdon.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Kane,” Brock said. “Mitch is staying there. He’s reopening a business at Cow Camp. He has no immediate plans of moving to Fletcher.”

Brock walked away, but not before noticing the look of satisfaction spread across Kane’s face. He didn’t like Mitch and Brock didn’t think that would ever change, but he would come to terms with Trixie’s decisions as long as he didn’t have to look at them every day.

Mitch living away from Fletcher would suit Kane just fine.

Brock entered Trixie’s room. “I talked to Kane and told him to stop this nonsense.”

“What’d you say to him?” Rory asked.

“You definitely didn’t bribe him,” Mitch said, rolling his eyes.

“We have an understanding,” Brock said, seeing no reason to throw fuel on the flames.

“You threatened to move me to Virginia,” Trixie said drowsily.

“Do you have ESP?”

“No,” she replied. “I dreamed it.”

“Your dreams are pretty accurate,” Brock said, kissing the tip of her nose. “How ya doin’, beautiful?”

“Never better,” she replied, forcing a smile. “How are you?”

“Tolerable.”

“That’s debatable,” Ansley said, returning with a tray of coffee.

“Hmm…smells wonderful,” Trixie said.

“Your nurse said she’ll check your vitals and decide then whether or not you can have caffeine.”

Trixie glanced around the room. “I gave you guys a scare, huh?”

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” Mitch told her, covering her hand with his.

“We can, you know. I have nothing better to do.”

“You need your rest,” Brock said, his heartstrings pulling tighter and tighter as he watched her talk out of the corner of her swollen mouth.

“Brock, what happened at the police station?”

“They let him walk,” Ansley said, waving her hand in front of her face. “You know how Brock is—he’s more of a pain in the ass than a real catch for the cops. They don’t want to fool with him.”

“I have a court date,” Brock said. “My attorney said it will probably be thrown out since there are recordings from the cruisers proving Cash taunted me.”

“What about the rest of it?” Trixie asked. “You could’ve killed him, Brock.”

“After what he did to you and scores of other women, I should’ve killed him.”

“Would it have made you feel any better?” Trixie struggled to ask the question.

“After what he did to you?” Brock asked, touching her cheek. “Probably, Trixie.”