The Trouble with Temptation (2 page)

Fuck, Griffin hated himself, but he hoped she’d been the target and not his cousin.

Some weird shit was going on and somebody might be trying to hurt Hannah.

As Brannon McKay came striding toward him, he crossed his arms over his chest and pasted a bland smile on his face.

Nobody was getting back there to talk to Hannah without the chief’s okay.

Including Mr. Mega-bucks here.

As far as Griffin was concerned, Mr. Mega-bucks didn’t ever need to talk to his cousin again. Unless it was over a child support hearing. Then he could bleed zeroes for being an asshole.

“Hey there, McKay.” Griffin gave him an easy smile. Nobody had to know that he felt like punching the bastard. Griffin and Hannah were close. Maybe they didn’t sit around and braid each other’s hair, but he knew his cousin and the woman was in love with this prick. Brannon McKay probably didn’t love anything other than his cars and himself. Maybe his sisters. But Hannah hurt over him.

“Out of my way, Parker,” McKay said, the words coming out in a low, nearly soundless whisper.

“Can’t do that.” He gave a mock grimace. “Hannah’s condition is pretty serious.” He paused and then added, “I assume you
are
here to see her. I think your sisters are down the other hallway—unless they’ve already come and gone?”

“Get out of my way,” McKay said again.

Griffin just smiled. “Come on, now. Shouldn’t you be sitting with Neve, patting her hand? She could have been killed tonight. Her and Moira both.”

McKay just stared at him coldly.

“That’s what I thought.”

Unblinking green eyes simply held his and Griffin suspected this could continue indefinitely. He crossed his arms over his chest and settled himself more comfortably.

McKay did the same thing.

His suspicion on how long this might last wasn’t tested, though.

In the next moment, the doors opened with a light
swish
behind him, and he heard a familiar voice. “Brannon. Had a feeling you’d show up.”

*   *   *

The affable smile on Griffin Parker’s face didn’t fool Brannon at all. He had to admit, Gideon’s timing was spot-on. If he hadn’t shown up, Brannon might have done something stupid. Something like gotten into a fist fight with a cop. He thought he could probably take Parker. He was bigger, and he suspected he was stronger. He had a healthy respect for the skinny, wiry type—he’d seen that sort lay a person out flat quicker than it seemed possible, but he’d tangled with his share of skinny wiry types, plus, he’d seen Griffin taking a go at both Gideon and Ian down at the gym.

It might have landed his ass in jail for a while, but Brannon would have had a chance to see Hannah with his own eyes and know she was alive, breathing.

Gideon had saved him from that particular complication and for a while yet, he could say he still hadn’t seen the inside of a jail. As he cut around Griffin Parker, he gave Gideon a hard look. “I’m seeing her,” he said flatly.

Gideon inclined his head. “Maybe in a bit. We need to talk first.”

That wasn’t a
no
. Running his tongue across his teeth, Brannon debated and then he gave a quick nod. “As long as you keep it short. I need to see her.”

“You can’t be alone,” Gideon advised.

“Fine.” As long as he got to see her. His gut had been in a tangle ever since he’d heard the news.

He’d gone to Neve first.

It had taken him too long to get to his sister, because he’d stood by helpless, as paramedics cut Hannah out of the mangled car, then loaded her into the ambulance. The doors had swung shut before he even had a chance to try and leap in.

So he’d had to follow, emergency flashers on. Heaven help the person who tried to pull him over or slow him down.

They hadn’t let him into the emergency room and nobody had told him shit. He’d gone to see Neve and Moira, his older sister’s words still playing in his head.
William was here.…

But for the first time in his life, he’d been torn between the love for his sisters and his need for Hannah. He’d clung to his siblings, breathed out silent prayers of relief over their safety.

And all the while, he’d worried over Hannah.

The calls hadn’t stopped coming in on his cellphone, either. Apparently Joe hadn’t seen the point in keeping it quiet. Half the town knew that Hannah had been driving like a bat out of hell, in
Shayla’s
car and thanks to too many people who didn’t have much of anything else to do but listen to a police radio, people also knew Shayla was dead.

Heard Shayla died.

Heard you found Hannah.

You got any idea what’s going on?

He just might have smashed the phone into nothingness, but he didn’t have the patience to get a new phone.

What in the hell was going on?

Not seeing Hannah was driving him nuts.

“Parker.”

Gideon’s brusque voice caught Brannon’s attention and he looked up just as Gideon gave his officer orders to take over for Ruiz.

Ruiz
—an image flashed through Brannon’s mind. Petite woman. Hispanic. Short cap of black hair, big dark eyes that should have looked soft, but they were wicked sharp and could go hard as nails in a blink.

Maria Ruiz—cop. She was guarding Hannah. The implication of that hit home,
hard
.

“You’ve got cops on Hannah’s door,” he said softly.

Gideon lifted a brow. “Yes, we do.”

“Why?”

“That’s my concern, Bran.”

Brannon dragged his hands down his face. “Let me see her,” he said abruptly.

“We discussed this.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he snarled, whirling on Gideon. “Just walk me by her damn door. I need to see that she’s…” His breath caught in his chest. “I have to know she’s okay. That’s she … she’s…”

He couldn’t even finish it.

He couldn’t say the fear that had taken root inside him when he’d seen her in the car, all that golden hair spilled around her, her face so still. And the blood …

All of his fears, all of them, had happened in one day.

Neve.

Moira.

Hannah.

Raggedly, he said it again, “You have to let me see her.”

CHAPTER TWO

Seven days had passed.

Seven days.

Brannon almost had the art of telling time down to a science, all by the annoying little
beep beep beep
that came from the monitor in Hannah’s room.

He had all but moved into this hospital room.

Hannah lay still on the bed. Her hair gleamed—he’d spent twenty minutes brushing it that morning, and before he left, he’d do it again.

Unwittingly, he reached out and laid a hand on her belly.

She was …

Clearing his throat, he withdrew his hand. Gideon had been the one to deliver that news, his voice calm and efficient. He’d also been the one to catch Brannon’s arm when he staggered under the news, and he’d been the one to force him to sit and listen.

Hannah was pregnant. But did it even matter?

The doctors had all been pretty clear.

They’d been optimistic the first day, even the second.

But the more time that passed, the less likely it was that she’d wake up. The swelling on the brain that had caused the coma was gone, but she still wasn’t waking up. It wasn’t good.

Did the baby growing inside her have a chance?

“Brannon.”

He lifted his head, but didn’t bother to look at the doorway.

Neve came in and sat down next to him.

“Why don’t you go get something to eat?” she said softly.

“I’m not hungry.”

“But you need to eat.” She leaned over and nudged her shoulder against his. “You’re not going to help her any if you fall over the minute she wakes up. You’ve already lost weight.”

He started to argue, but decided it would be easier to grab a sandwich and bring it up here.

Neve was turning out to be like their mother—unmovable once she set her course. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

A smile flitted across her face. “Wouldn’t expect it any other way.”

He leaned over the bed and pressed a kiss to Hannah’s brow. “Wake up.” He held still there a moment. “Come back to me.”

In his head, he relived those last few moments on her houseboat.

I’m not looking for any sort of relationship. Sex is all well and good, but I don’t want anything else … I get the feeling casual sex isn’t really your speed.

She just gazed at him. Calm, steady.
I’ve been in love with you since high school.

It had floored him, scared him, scarred him … or so he’d thought. What he hadn’t realized until it was too late was that her love, something she would have so easily given, could have very well saved him.

What had he done? Thrown it away. Walked away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I was so fucking wrong. Hannah, for fuck’s sake. Come back to me.”

It was all he could say at that moment. There were a thousand other things he needed to say, but he couldn’t voice even the first word until she was able to open her eyes and look at him.

He tugged on Neve’s hair and then headed out, blinking at the overly bright lights in the hallway. He’d kept the lights off for Hannah—when she woke up, they’d seem too bright. But that meant everything was too bright for him.

Wake up, Hannah. Come back to me. I’m sorry.…

*   *   *

Wake up.

Come back to me.

Those words were the only thing that felt real.

Other people would talk, but nobody seemed to talk
to
her.

Wake up.

Come back to me
.

She was almost
there
.

Groaning in frustration—or trying to—she listened for him again.

But his voice was gone.

Wake up … wake up.…

*   *   *

“Visiting hours are over, Mr. McKay.”

He didn’t look up from the book he was reading.

It was a romance Hannah had been reading—he’d gotten it from her apartment and it had been on her nightstand, so he figured she must be enjoying it. He felt stupid as hell reading it out loud to her, but Brannon had done some serious cramming on coma victims and the general consensus was that it didn’t hurt to read to a person in a coma. He took that to mean it helped. And if it helped, he’d read every damned book he could find.

If he’d found
War and Peace
in her room, he would have read that boring tome—and he’d lost a bet in college over that damn book. Somebody had said he’d never be able to finish it and he’d put down five hundred saying he would. He’d coughed up the cash just to
keep
from having to finish it. But if he’d found that book in her place, he would have read it, and happily.

“Mr. McKay.” The nurse’s voice was louder now, and firmer.

He put in the piece of paper he was using for the bookmark and looked up.

“As much as we’re enjoying the escapades of that young couple out here at the nurse’s station, it’s time for you to go home.” She arched her eyebrows. “And…” She glanced at the uniformed cop standing just outside the door. “I’m sorry to say this, but I think you’re embarrassing Officer Billings.”

“Officer Billings has two grown kids,” Brannon said sourly. “He has to know what sex is.”

The nurse, Ginny, just laughed. “I’m sure he does. He’s just never had to listen to a boy like yourself
read
about it.” Her voice softened and she came in. “Come on, Bran. Go home. Rest. Be back bright and early … and shock the day shift with your reading material, if you must.”

After a minute, he just nodded. “Fine.”

Then, as Ginny gave him a minute, he bent over Hannah’s quiet form.

“Wake up, Hannah. Please come back to me. I’m sorry…”

*   *   *

Wake up.

Come back.

I’m sorry …

She wanted to shout at him.
Don’t!
Don’t be
sorry!
Be here!

He was leaving.

He had to be. He only said the words when he was leaving and once he was gone …

Frustration flooded her, filled her until she wanted to shout with fury. The faint light that seemed to edge in was suddenly gone.
No!

*   *   *

“Huh.”

Ginny Rollings pursed her lips and pushed her glasses up her nose as she leaned in to study the monitor. The readings had changed.

“Everything okay in here?”

She looked over her shoulder to smile at Officer Billings. With the dim light it was hard to stay if his color had gone back to normal, but if it had, she’d be sure to take a moment to tease him. Just to get him going again.

She enjoyed seeing the man flustered. It was always fun to let his wife know how easy it was to get that big, gruff man of hers to blush.

“Oh, fine,” she said, looking down at her patient.

“Well…” She bent closer.
I’ll be damned
.

A faint line marred Hannah Parker’s brow and as Ginny watched, her mouth parted.

She reached for the call light, but then stopped. Every single day, Chief Marshall had been in to speak with the nurses who’d been assigned to care for Hannah—there were a set four who’d been given the task. His orders had been specific.

Perhaps the man was being overly cautious, but then again, perhaps not.

“Officer Billings,” she said quietly.

When he looked back at her, she gestured to him. “Would you step in here please?”

*   *   *

Brannon was tired.

He was sore.

His head hurt and he figured he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since … well, hell. The night he’d been with Hannah. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get another decent night’s sleep for a good long time. Maybe never.

He was existing on caffeine and donuts and anything he could get from the vending machine at the hospital, and that stuff was pure crap, as evidenced by the fact that his jeans were too damn loose. It was only a week and he had already lost weight.