One for Three [Elite Dragons 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (15 page)

Coulter, Trace, Corbin.
She was thinking about them even now.

Coulter told himself to keep it together. He had to focus. More worrying even than Brooke’s pain and anguish was what he was picking up from Pike, now. The foreman was looking for the vehicles he’d left out here in the woods. Snowmobiles, Coulter would bet. He suspected their plan was to escape north, toward the border.

For a moment, Coulter glimpsed Pike’s reasons for betraying the Elite Dragons, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it now. Brooke’s pain flashed in and out of Coulter’s mind. He had to put his mental barrier up again. However useful it might be to track them that way, he couldn’t risk preoccupation. Soon, he told himself, she would be safe in his arms again.

Pike and Katlynn weren’t getting away. Not on his watch.

* * * *

She was having trouble keeping up, as the snow was deep and she had lost her slippers in the snow. Her bones throbbed with the piercing pain from the cold, and she knew if they didn’t do something, she wouldn’t be alive to sign over her money.

“Wait, I’ve lost my slippers and my feet are going numb. If you don’t get me warm soon, I am going to die from exposure,” Brooke stated calmly but breathlessly.

“Fuck, Katlynn, can’t you do anything right?” Pike snarled.

When Brooke didn’t hear a reply she turned her head to locate the other woman and stumbled. She knocked into Pike, but he caught her before she fell and wrapped his arms around her. He turned her around until her back was up against his front. Katlynn was nowhere to be seen.

Pike moved one of his arms, and then the cold steel of a gun was pressed against her temple. She looked around frantically, searching for her men, because she knew they were there somewhere.

Corbin stepped into the clearing, a gun pressed against Katlynn’s head. “Drop the weapon or your woman dies, Pike.”

“She’s not my woman. Go ahead and shoot her,” Pike shouted next to Brooke’s ear.

Corbin flicked a switch on the side of the gun and pushed the barrel harder into Katlynn’s head. Brooke knew the woman probably deserved everything she got, but still she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to witness her death. But the report of the gun never came. She opened her eyes, and Katlynn and Corbin had disappeared.
Where the hell are they? What do they think they are doing? Playing cat and mouse?

“Drop the gun, Pike. You have two choices. You can let Brooke go and live, or you can die,” Trace called in a deadly cold voice as he stepped into view.

Brooke wanted him to look at her, but he didn’t. He completely ignored her.

“You and I both know you aren’t going to kill me. You can’t take the risk. I might just accidentally pull the trigger as I die,” Pike spat. “You wouldn’t want me killing your precious woman, now would you?”

The muscle in Trace’s jaw twitched, betraying the truth behind Pike’s words. She willed him to look at her, and when his eyes flicked to her briefly she held his attention.

“Do it. Shoot him,”
Brooked mouthed.

Trace took a step forward, and the gun in Pike’s hand left her head and pointed in her man’s direction. Brooke shoved her elbow into Pike’s gut and at the same time knocked his arm up. The deafening gunshot rang in her ears, and she felt a sting in her arm and wondered if Pike’s bullet had hit her.

When the smoke cleared from the gun, she looked up at Trace. He was running toward her, and his mouth moved, but Brooke only heard silence. She turned slowly and looked for Pike. He lay on the ground, a bullet hole right between his eyes and a look of shock painted his expression. She stood staring down at him, and even though she wanted to move, her body wouldn’t cooperate.

Her vision swirled, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground looking up at the sky. The winter sun illuminated the clouds, making them glisten and sparkle, and she stared, mesmerized. Three faces loomed over her and she tried so hard to focus and let them know she was all right, but couldn’t manage to get her mouth to form the words. She smiled at them and then closed her eyes.

* * * *

Trace’s brothers were at his side moments later, and they each knelt down in the cold snow calling Brooke’s name. She smiled up at them, and her eyes closed. Her skin was stark white, and she was shivering from the cold.

Blood seeped out onto the snow beneath her, and he carefully maneuvered her onto her side. He cursed a blue streak when he realized he was the one who had shot their woman. He ripped off his Kevlar vest and coat and reached under his shirt for the hem of his T-shirt. He ripped a strip off and tied it around her arm as firmly as he could to stem the flow of blood. He picked her up and, with his brothers’ help, wrapped her up in his jacket. He cursed again when he realized her feet were bare. They had to get her back to the house fast. They didn’t want her getting frostbite or hypothermia again, and they had to see to her gunshot wound.

“Wolf, Brooke’s been shot. I need you to be ready to attend her,” Trace rasped into his microphone.

“On it. Get her back to the house as quickly as possible,” Wolf replied.

Trace hurried back to the house and carried her into the room which had been set aside for just such medical emergencies. Wolf was already prepping to treat their woman. Trace placed her on the bed and began to remove her clothes. He didn’t want Wolf to see his woman naked, but knew he had to get her wet things off. Once done he wrapped her up in warmed cotton blankets and a thermal one. He grabbed some thick socks which Coulter handed him and covered her feet. He carefully lifted her injured arm and laid it on the bed.

Trace paced back and forth in the room as Wolf worked. His gut churned as he relived the moment he had shot Brooke. He couldn’t believe he had hurt their woman. He felt sick to his stomach.

“Stop beating yourself up, Trace. You did what you had to. You couldn’t have known she was going to move at the exact same moment you pulled the trigger,” Wolf said quietly.

“Fuck. I can’t believe I shot her. I should have waited. He wasn’t holding the gun to her head anymore,” Trace replied with anguish.

“No, he wasn’t, but if you had hesitated he could have swung back and shot her. She could be dead right now instead of just having a wound to her arm.”

“How bad is it?” Trace asked.

“Not bad at all. The bullet went right through, so I don’t have to go digging for it, nor did it hit any bones or tendons. She is going to be sore for a while, but she should have no lasting effects. I’ve given her a shot of antibiotics, a tetanus vaccine, and also a painkiller. She should be right as rain,” Wolf explained in a calm voice.

“Thank God,” Trace whispered and sank into the chair off to the side of the room as his brothers left. He had seen the concern in their faces as they waited for Wolf’s diagnoses. He was to blame for the fact their woman lay unconscious in the medical room. He just hoped that Brooke could forgive him for what he had done, because he knew damn well he would never be able to forgive himself.

Brooke woke with a raging thirst, a pounding headache, and a very sore arm. She opened her eyes a couple of times and blinked the sleep haze from her vision, then turned her head and looked around the unfamiliar room. Trace was sitting in a chair in the corner, fast asleep. He looked so uncomfortable. His big body was just too large for the small chair. His head was tilted to the side and down until it looked like his chin was touching his chest. His long legs were sprawled out in front of him, and he looked like he was in danger of falling off the seat onto the floor. Licking her dry lips and turning to look about the room, she discovered she was in a bed that looked like it belonged in a doctor’s office. Hearing a noise at the door and looking toward it as it opened, she smiled as Wolf entered.

“How are you doing, sugar?” Wolf asked.

“I’m okay,” Brooke replied quietly.

“What?” Trace rasped and sat up with a jerk. He only barely managed to stop himself from falling to the floor. He looked at Wolf and then at her. His eyes slid away from her again, and he rose to his feet. “I’m glad you’re awake, darlin’. How are you?”

“I’m fine. I want to thank you for saving me, Trace. If you hadn’t come along I would probably be dead,” Brooke whispered.

“Shit. I, uh, have to do…something.” Trace stood almost before he had his feet under him. “You just rest, Brooke. One of us will be back to check on you later,” Trace stated abruptly and then left without a backward glance.

Brooke felt tears prick her eyes and blinked a few times, refusing to let them fall. Once she had her hurt emotions under control, she watched Wolf as he checked her over.

“Don’t let him get to you, sugar. He’s feeling guilty over you getting hurt.”

“What? But that’s just ludicrous. How can he blame himself when he saved me?” Brooke asked, bewildered.

“He’s the one that shot you, Brooke. He just can’t let it go. He blames himself for your injury. He didn’t want to see you hurt by that bastard, let alone injure you himself.”

“He couldn’t have done anything different. If he hadn’t taken a shot at Pike, I’d probably be dead,” Brooke declared vehemently.

“I know that, you know that, but I don’t think Trace sees it that way, sugar. You are going to have to tell him.” Wolf gave her another shot for the pain. “Okay, you can get up if you want to. Coulter is getting you some clothes. You aren’t to do anything but rest, all right? I don’t want you pulling my stitches or wearing yourself out.”

“I have stitches?”

“Yeah, ten. Five in front and another five in the back of your arm. Come and see me if you experience too much pain,” Wolf advised.

“Okay, thanks, Wolf.”

“No problem, and stay out of trouble.”

“Oh, believe me, I intend to. I have had more than enough excitement from the last few weeks to last me more than a lifetime,” Brooke declared.

Wolf left, and minutes later, Coulter stepped in and closed the door.

“Hi, baby, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Oh good, clothes,” Brooke said when she saw the garments he had brought along.

“Yeah, I’ve brought you some of Trace’s sweats. I thought they would be easier to get in and out of with your injury.”

“That’s okay. I don’t care what you brought, just as long as I can dress and get up. Will you please help me?” Brooke asked.

“Sure, baby,” he replied.

She watched him as he set down the clothes. “Was anyone else injured?” she asked.

“Pike was,” Coulter answered. He picked up an oversized sweatshirt and shook it out, then came over to her.

She held up her good arm so he could slip the sweatshirt over her, but as he turned away to get the pants she touched his hand. Coulter stopped. “I know you want to protect me,” Brooke said, “but I have to know. What happened? Katlynn told me about the lottery money. Was she telling the truth?”

Coulter didn’t answer as he helped her work her injured arm through the other sleeve. She barely felt it with Wolf’s painkiller in her system. “It’s true,” he said. “You’re pretty rich, baby.”

Brooke wasn’t particularly interested in the money right now. She waited for Coulter to go on.

Not to be rushed, Coulter finished helping her dress, then scooped her into his lap as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed. “Katlynn was working for the organ dealers. She recruited Pike when she got here. Pike was bitter because he thought he was going to lose his job when my brothers and I eventually retire from the service. We do want to take a more active part in the farm, but we wouldn’t have sacked him.” Coulter sighed. “Pike got greedy, like Katlynn. Now he’s dead.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him you weren’t going to fire him?” Brooke asked gently.

“We…never exactly talked about it face-to-face,” Coulter said. “There are some things we should probably tell you about that.”

“About what?”

“Later, baby.” He set her carefully on her feet. “I think, first, you had better talk to Trace.”

That was indeed her intention, so Brooke let Coulter lead the way. He hovered at her side as though afraid to be more than six inches from her. Even though she wanted to tell him to leave her be so she could talk to his brother, she knew by the concerned expression on his face he would refuse, so she didn’t bother.

Trace was in the office with Corbin. She sank down on the sofa gratefully, realizing she wasn’t as strong as she had thought. She felt very weak and tired, but she wasn’t about to let on to her three men. She wanted to go over to Trace and sit on his lap, but she was totally drained and didn’t think she would make it.

“It wasn’t your fault, Trace. You did what you had to and saved my life,” Brooke stated firmly.

“Brooke, what the fuck are you doing out of bed?” Trace asked harshly. “Are you out of your mind? You’re recovering from a gunshot wound for Christ’s sake.”

“Trace, could you please come over here?” Brooke asked, looking at him. He ran his hand through his hair, and with a great show of reluctance he got up and walked toward her. He stopped beside her and slowly sat down next to her.

“Trace, will you please look at me?” Brooke asked and waited. She gasped when he did. His eyes showed her the guilt and anguish he was trying to hide. She reached up with her good arm and cupped his cheek with her palm.