Page 18 of Wicked Need


  The wooden porch at the top of the stairs is empty, but there were some technicians up there when I arrived a bit ago dusting for prints on the door. They had confirmed it was still locked and the apartment was secure, but they figured the attacker could have tried to get inside first before Cat arrived. Black dust smudges the doorknob, but I ignore it as I release Cat's hand to pull my keys out and open the door.

  We're all silent as we walk in, and I quickly turn on lights in the living room and kitchen. Cat goes to the couch and sits on it with a sigh. Her plaid blouse is still open, the white camisole underneath demurely hiding everything, but I don't miss the fact the buttons are missing with pieces of thread hanging from the places they were once secured.

  My teeth clamp down harder and my jaw starts to hurt from the force of it. I want to kill someone... well, Kevin to be exact because I know damn well he's behind this. Then I want just a few minutes with the guy who dared to attack Cat because he's going to regret the day his sorry, piece-of-shit mother ever gave birth to him because he'd rather have not been born than what I intend to do to him.

  I go to the cabinet to the right of the sink and pull out a can of chicken noodle soup. It's the best I can manage for Cat at this moment, and I go about making it silently because I'm afraid if I open my mouth to talk about the events of the last hour I'm going to lose my shit. Bridger comes into the kitchen, takes a seat at the table, and watches me silently. He said we need to talk and I'm not sure what he's waiting for, but I wait all the same. Not sure if he means he wants to talk to me privately or if he's just waiting until I can feed Cat.

  While the soup heats, I pull an open bottle of white wine from the fridge that Cat had put there. I also grab two beers for Bridger and me. Cat gets up from the couch, walks into the kitchen, and accepts a glass of wine from me as she sits down at the other chair I have at my tiny table.

  "Why are you here?" she asks Bridger bluntly after taking a sip of the wine and setting it down before her. "How did you know this was going on?"

  "I didn't," he says. "Shocked the shit out of me when I pulled up and saw the circus. Jake and that cop filled me in."

  Pouring the soup into a bowl, I set it before Cat with a large spoon. I almost expect her to push it away, but instead, she starts eating it, taking the time to blow on each spoonful she brings to her mouth.

  "So what's up?" I say as I lean back against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. I want Bridger to hurry up, say whatever he needs, and then get the fuck gone. I have a woman who was attacked and I need to check her over. I need to see with my eyes that she's okay, and I need to feel with my hands the same. I need to give her the opportunity to tell me how fucking scared she was, and then I need to reassure her she's safe and that will never fucking happen again. And then... if she's still not exhausted and ready to go to sleep, I need to take the time to let her know how valued she is and that I want something more.

  That was made abundantly clear to me the minute Lorelei called me at the hospital to tell me what happened. I always knew Cat might leave the area and go back to Vegas, but tonight I came very close to losing her and it made me prioritize a bit.

  Made me realize she's my top priority.

  "Jenna went through the entire trust agreement you gave me," Bridger says while tapping his index finger on the table. Cat pauses with a spoon of soup halfway to her mouth. "Cat stands to inherit a bit more than just five million and a house. That's why I came here."

  "What?" Cat says, dropping the spoon back down.

  "Yeah... the five million and the house was an immediate bequest to get you set up, but later on in the document, he also gives you ten percent of all profits from the hotels and subsidiary businesses under them for the remainder of your life, and then that reverts to his kids if you die before them."

  My mind quickly calculates. Ten percent of a billion is one hundred million, and that's just estimating Samuel's worth. It's probably more.

  "Holy fuck," I say as I turn my gaze upon Bridger and he's watching me carefully. "Now that is something Kevin would kill over."

  "Yup," Bridger agrees and cuts a glance at Cat. "Did you know that?"

  "No," she says in astonishment. "I mean... Samuel said he'd take care of me, but I thought the five million and a house was more in line with what he meant."

  I don't say it, but all I can think is, Yeah... that fucker must be showing his appreciation for all the times his wife took someone else's cock so he could humiliate her.

  "I don't want that money," Cat says bitterly, and I know she's thinking the same thing. What that money really represents.

  But fuck if I'm going to let her walk away from her due. "Yes, you do."

  "No--"

  I cut her off with a sharp, "Yes, Cat. It's yours under the law and you are not turning your nose up at it. Your husband may have been the ultimate prick, but in the end, he was looking out for you."

  Her mouth snaps shut and she glares at me. I know there's more argument there, but we'll worry about that later. Turning to Bridger I say, "We need to go down, grab that detective, and tell him this."

  "Already did that when he walked out. He wants a copy of the trust agreement."

  "I'll get it to him tomorrow," I say, but my mind is already racing ahead, trying to figure out how Kevin could be connected to the attacker.

  But as usual, Bridger is uncannily ahead of me. "Cop told me a description of the guy that attacked Cat. Sounds like he could be a member of Mayhem's Mission."

  I nod because that's what I had been thinking. While plenty of people ride bikes in this area, there's a huge motorcycle club-- Mayhem's Mission--and they are definitely shady. Without a doubt, Kevin would get someone to do his dirty work, and I could see him being stupid enough to approach a biker to do it.

  "I'm going to call my buddy, Kyle Sommerville, tonight. He rides with them. I'll see if he's heard anything." Bridger stands from the table indicating that's all the information he has to share.

  "Think he'll know something?" Cat asks him as she stands up too.

  He turns to her. "Maybe, and if he does, he still might not tell me anything, but I figure it's worth a shot."

  "Well, thank you," Cat says as she steps into Bridger, wrapping her hands around his waist. He seems surprised for a moment. The man is not the huggy-feely type. But then his face softens, his arms come around her upper back, and he gives her a quick squeeze before releasing her.

  I walk Bridger to the door, noting that Cat sits back down to continue eating her soup. Still, to make sure she can't hear, I step out onto the small porch behind him and pull the door shut behind me. He turns, knowing I'm here seeking a private word.

  "You think it was Kevin behind this?" I ask to make sure we're on the same page.

  "Yup. Same as you."

  "Then I'm going to pay him a visit after Cat goes to sleep tonight," I say with a nod. "I'll get the truth."

  "Yeah, you are absolutely not going to do that," Bridger says gruffly and steps into me. "You're going to let the police handle this."

  I might not have his bulk but I stand eye to eye with him, so I lean into him rather than back. "That fucker hired someone to kill Cat. Someone who didn't intend to just do it easily. He was going to rape her first. Not going to let that slide."

  Bridger doesn't physically back away, but his voice softens a bit. "I get it, man. You care for her and you want vengeance. But it's not going to make anything better for her. If you go there tonight and beat the shit out of him, the only one who that is making feel better is you. Trust me... you're best served to go back in there and hold that girl tonight. She needs that more than you running off on a fool's errand."

  In that moment, I hate him for being right, calm, and wise. I hate he can take the high road and still be able to sleep tonight, but if I do as he asks and take the high road, I'm going to burn from the inside-out with my failure to protect her.

  Still, I can't disagree with him that at least for tonight, Cat needs
me by her side, not running off to avenge her. So, I nod at him curtly and turn to head back inside.

  Before my hand touches the knob, Bridger asks in a low voice that's sure not to filter down to the cops pacing around the yard with their flashlights. "You ever coming back to The Silo?"

  I look over my shoulder at him.

  His face is inscrutable.

  I shrug and say, "No immediate plans, but if I do, it will be with Cat."

  Bridger lets out a deep chuckle of understanding as I walk back into the apartment where I find Cat at the sink, washing out her bowl. She doesn't turn to face me but instead asks, "Everything okay?"

  "I'm the one who should be asking you that," I say as I walk up behind her. Reaching around with my hands, I take the bowl from her and place it in the sink, then turn her around to face me. She does so easily, looking up at me with curiosity. Her eyes are wan, but still she smiles at me.

  My eyes drop to the bandage and with slightly shaky hands, I peel the tape and gauze back so I can see for myself.

  A thin, red line about three inches long, about two inches above her left collarbone. The air wheezes out of my chest as I realize just how much worse it could be. Placing the bandage back in place, I press the tape onto her skin and look up at her with an encouraging smile that takes all my willpower to give her.

  "Not bad at all," I say. Her eyes shine with amusement at me that I'm trying to downplay what happened, just to take the weight and magnitude off her shoulders a bit.

  "You need to eat," she says, hands sliding up to my chest. "And you still haven't told me if Tarryn's okay?"

  My hands capture hers, and I hold them in place right over my heart. "Tarryn's fine. She's having surgery tomorrow on her ankle, and I've asked her to stop contacting me."

  "Rand," Cat says in a censuring tone.

  "Don't, Cat," I warn her, still trying to gentle my words as she's had a shittier day than I have. "You let me handle Tarryn and trust I'm doing what's right and I'm doing it in a way that's not intentionally hurtful, okay?"

  Immediately, her cheeks turn pink and her gaze drops. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have..."

  "Cat," I say softly but firmly to cut her off, and she looks back up. "Let's talk about you, okay?"

  "Me?"

  "Yeah... and me."

  "And you?" she asks hesitantly.

  "Let's talk about us and if there's a concept of us," I clarify with a smile, taking her by the hand and walking her into the living room. My desire is to walk her right into the bedroom so I can undress her, examine her fully to make sure I'm not missing anything, and then pull her into bed where I'd also really like to fuck her but know that I'll ultimately just end up holding her.

  But this conversation needs some boundaries, so it's to the couch I lead us. She takes a seat and rather than sit beside her, I plop my butt on the coffee table instead where our knees bump together.

  She frowns and says, "Uh-oh... this is serious."

  "Yeah," I admit.

  "You want me to leave?" she asks softly, her eyes shining at me with some understanding she thinks I need but totally don't want.

  "No, I don't want you to leave," I tell her with exasperation as I take her hands. "I want to talk about you staying... forever, if you want."

  "Staying?" she asks carefully. "You mean more than just here at the apartment with you?"

  I don't answer her directly but rather turn back to where we had left things at the Snake River Brewery before I'd got called away by Tarryn. "You told me tonight that you were afraid that I was going to wake up one day and realize you're not the person I'd want to give the time of day to."

  She nods, lips pursed in an ashamed grimace.

  "Well, my fears are a little different," I tell her as I press forward. "I'm afraid I'm going to wake up one day and you'll be gone because I didn't make the bold move to tell you how I'm feeling. I know you said you're afraid you can't give me what I'm expecting, and the ironic thing is, you already give me that and so much more, and you don't even realize it."

  "Rand," she says, and she sounds desperate. Her face is pale and she looks decidedly uncomfortable, but I decide to push forward.

  "I'm crazy about you, Cat," I tell her firmly, looking her dead in the eye. "That call tonight from Lorelei was my wake-up call and I realized I was not ready to lose you in any fashion. I'm falling in love with you and I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but you need to know for a woman who doesn't think she amounts to much, you're pretty much amounting to my everything."

  Cat blinks at me, her eyes getting shiny. "You don't mean that."

  "I do and one day, you'll believe it too," I tell her with utter confidence.

  "I don't know if I can love," she whispers fearfully. "I mean... look at what I know of it. A cold, derelict mother who only wants to use me and a dead husband who got off on humiliating me... a father who abandoned me. I don't know what it even means to care for someone."

  "That's bullshit, Cat, and you know it," I tell her. "The mere fact you're worried about not giving me what I need tells me you care for me. Hell, the fact that you were more worried about how Tarryn was tonight than yourself tells me that you've got a heart the size of this state."

  She blinks at me again, and I can see she's confused. She even shakes her head in silent denial, opens her mouth to do the same, and then seems to reconsider because she closes it just as quickly. Her gaze slides over to my bookshelf that holds photographs of me competing and with my family. It tells of a happy, fulfilled life surrounded by people who love and care for me.

  And then she totally changes the subject.

  At least I think it's a change of subject.

  "If Kevin did this... hired someone to kill me, do you think that's something within his very makeup or was it learned behavior from maybe his father... to sort of take what you want?"

  Well, shit. That's a deep as hell question and I don't know much about Kevin or Samuel. She has to have a reason for asking it, but I'm not sure what she's looking for, so I'm a little hesitant when I say, "I have to believe that his father's influence played a role. His father pretty much taught him he could have what he wanted without working for it. You're the example of that. He let that shit have you... someone beautiful, amazing, and totally beyond his reach, and he just handed you over without his son even earning the right to breathe the same air as you."

  She nods, gaze coming back to me. "I think that's probably true. Although Richard doesn't seem to have that same entitlement."

  "Or maybe he's involved in this with Kevin and we just don't know it," I point out.

  "Also true," she says softly, and then changes subjects again. "I wonder what type of influence my father would have been on me. You know, if he'd have stuck around... been involved in my life."

  "You don't know that he abandoned you," I say carefully, so she's not making conclusions about a situation she truly knows nothing about.

  "That's what my mom says," she says bitterly. "But I can never trust what she says, so who knows?"

  "Well, you didn't have very good role models in your life," I tell her, as this is something I am sure about. "And yet, you're still an incredibly caring and empathetic woman, so I'm going to have to say that part is inside of you somehow. Maybe that's part of your dad."

  Her smile softens, lips curved in a wistful arc while her eyes get dreamy. "You know... if I get money from Samuel's estate, I think I'm going to try to find my dad. It may be a chase after nothing, but it seems the right thing to do if I were to have a windfall of some sort."

  "That inheritance is not a windfall," I remind her. "It's your due under the law as his wife. And we're going to make sure you get every penny."

  She nods with another smile, and then yawns. It's my cue that this deep conversation is over for now. While that part of me that is dying for her to admit her feelings for me wants to bully her into it, I think enough has been said tonight to at least make her think. She knows that this is more than just cas
ual for me, so now I really just need to sit back and let her try to figure things out.

  Chapter 22

  Cat

  I walk into The Silo with my head held high but my palms sweating fiercely. While my head tells me this is a good idea, my heart is already hurting in anticipation of what Rand will think.

  It's been four days since I was attacked and things have not gotten any clearer to me. In fact, I feel like I'm struggling to stay afloat in muddied waters.

  Detective Blanton brought Kevin in for questioning the very next morning. According to the detective, Kevin acted shocked he was being questioned in relation to the attack and of course, denied any involvement. He was released after two hours of being grilled and maintaining a consistent refusal to admit to hiring someone to kill me.

  This was frustrating, especially because the detective told me he didn't buy Kevin's innocent act for a moment. He had asked Kevin about the supposed will he claimed cut me out, and after a lot of hemming and hawing on his part, he did finally admit there wasn't another will. He said he didn't believe I deserved anything and that's the reason why he said there was. He didn't even act abashed that he kicked me out of my home on a lie.

  This of course raised a huge, red flag to the detective and has motivated him to push harder to find my attacker, who could then possibly turn on Kevin.

  The other thing that happened was Richard called me that evening, as apparently he'd been questioned by the detective via telephone immediately after Kevin was. If I can believe him, and I think I can, Richard was appalled that Kevin claimed there was another will and used that to kick me out of the house. He confirmed for me what Bridger had revealed just four days ago.

  I was going to get five million dollars, the Jackson house, and apparently yearly profits in the amount of ten percent. Richard didn't seem put out in the slightest. The best thing that happened was he assured me Kevin had vacated the house today to return to Vegas and I could move back immediately if I wanted. He also opened up a bank account in my name and transferred some immediate funds until he could get a larger transfer done, as well as turned my credit cards back on, not that it mattered. I had cut those cards up days ago, as I didn't want anything reminding me that I was once Catherine Vaughn. I even went and got a new Wyoming driver's license with my maiden name of Lyons, although I hadn't decided whether or not to stay here.