Everyone makes
mistakes in life. Unfortunately, Holly Richards has become an expert at taking
the wrong path in life. This time, she may have gone so far that she has
alienated the one person who has always been there for her. Will she be able to
make the right decision for once in her life?
Tommy Reed’s world shifted the night he found Holly Richards lying in a pool of blood on the ground. For reasons he can’t explain, he feels the need to protect Holly from her own past. In the process, he’s hoping to also teach her that there is more to D/s than releasing pent up emotions.
Life isn’t easy for the former-junkie and the cop. Some of those closest to Tommy are less than thrilled with his devotion to Holly. Those who pressured Holly into her former life are worried she’ll share what she knows. Is there any way for both of them to come away from the situation unscathed?
Tommy Reed’s world shifted the night he found Holly Richards lying in a pool of blood on the ground. For reasons he can’t explain, he feels the need to protect Holly from her own past. In the process, he’s hoping to also teach her that there is more to D/s than releasing pent up emotions.
Life isn’t easy for the former-junkie and the cop. Some of those closest to Tommy are less than thrilled with his devotion to Holly. Those who pressured Holly into her former life are worried she’ll share what she knows. Is there any way for both of them to come away from the situation unscathed?
Prologue:
(Tommy)
Unexpected Protector Tommy Reed I don’t
know why I’m here. I walk into her room with a cup of coffee and a bagel every
day and sit with her until late at night. The nurses think I’m the
compassionate boyfriend, not willing to leave her side. The truth is, I’m no
one to her.
“Holly, I don’t know if you can hear me,”
I whisper in her ear, wrapping my hand around her fingers. “You need to wake
up. Tasha’s starting to think you’re slipping away but I told her she’s wrong.”
There’s no response. There hasn’t been for
the past two weeks and I’m starting to worry there never will be. The first ten
days, they kept her in a medically-induced coma so she wouldn’t suffer from the
drug withdrawal. They started easing her off the medication a few days ago and
she should be awake by now. The doctors are now classifying her as being in a
“vegetative state” because she’s breathing on her own. If only she would give
us some sign that she’s still in there…
I reach for bottle of lotion beside the
bed. Every day, I massage her hands and arms, hoping that my touch will cause
her to open her eyes and say something. My fingers trace the outline of every
flower inked from just below her elbow up to her shoulder. Her half-sleeve
gives her a hard exterior from a distance, but upon closer inspection, the
tattoos form a magnificently detailed garden on her pale skin.
As I take her hand in mine, preparing to
work the lotion into her fingers, I feel her jerk away from me. Startled, I
look to the head of the bed and see her eyes open, staring at me.
“Hey, sleepy,” I say, my throat dry and
raspy from the recycled air in the hospital. “You had us scared for a while.”
There’s no recognition in her eyes, no
sign that she’s hearing what I’m saying. I should get the doctors, but after so
many days spent sitting next to her, I want a minute alone with her. It’s
illogical since, as I said, I’m nothing to her, but I need this time.
“I don’t know if you heard me earlier,
but Tasha’s been worried about you.” Holly blinks hard at the sound of her best
friend’s name, making me wonder if it was a mistake to mention Tasha. My only
thought was to let her know that people care about her and want to see her
healthy, but I realize now that Tasha is also a reminder of the mistakes that
put Holly here.
Wiping away the moisture seeping from the
corner of her eye, I allow my hand to rest on her cheek. “Hey, no tears. She
loves you. Do you want me to call her?” Holly shakes her head, stopping almost
instantly as she winces in pain. “Okay, I won’t call her yet, but I am going to
get the doctor.”
I don’t want to leave the room, but I
have to. Sure, I could hit the nurse call button, but I don’t trust them to
come quickly and I heard the attending physician in the hall just a few minutes
ago. If I can catch him, he can detour from his normal routine to check on her.
By the time I return to her side, Holly’s
eyes are closed. There’s no sign that she’s been awake and I’m sure the doctor
thinks I’m losing my mind. “Come on, Holly. You can’t make a liar out of me
now.” Once the doctor examines her, telling me he sees no change in her
condition, I slide my chair closer to the bed, hoping to close my eyes for a
few minutes. I reach for her hand, praying she’ll wake up again and I’ll feel
her movements.
The sleepless nights are catching up with
me; every time I close my eyes, I see her body lying in a pool of blood on the
concrete. If we had gotten there sooner, she might not be here.
The only saving grace of her being in a
coma is that she hasn’t suffered the violent withdrawals from cocaine. Her body
still went into shock, but she didn’t have to battle the emotional demons. I’ve
already talked to a friend of mine in the addiction recovery department and he
has a bed waiting for her as soon as she’s healthy enough. But before that can
happen, I need her to wake up for good.
“Tommy?” The soft voice at the door
sounds almost as weary as my own. I turn and see Tasha. She’s alone today,
which is highly unusual. Dylan hasn’t been thrilled with the idea of leaving
her alone since the attack. “What are you doing? You need to get out of here,
go do something.”
I’m used to this fight from her. She
doesn’t understand why I am willing to sit with Holly every day since the girl
doesn’t even know I exist. Hell, I don’t understand it either, but that doesn’t
mean I can change it.
“It’s not like I have anything better to
do,” I grumble, leaning back in my chair. “They aren’t ready to wrap up the
investigation yet. It seems there are a lot of people hoping your friend wakes
up so she can give her statement.”
At this point, I’m not even sure I want
to go back to work. The past six months, I’ve wondered if being a cop is what
I’m meant to do or if it’s me hanging onto the dream of a child. When I was a
kid, I thought being a police officer would be awesome; you get to save people,
catch the bad guy, drive fast and carry a gun. What’s not to love?
What’s not to love? Most of it. I’m not
out saving lives. I’m taking reports at fender-bender car accidents, arresting
abusive husbands so their wives have a night away from them before they take
the men back. And they always take them back. That’s one of the things I hate
the most. The problem is, I’m not sure what I’ll do if I quit.
Right now, I have time to think about
that because I’m on administrative leave. I wasn’t at Nick’s house on official
police business that night, but the fact that I shot him means I’m not allowed
to work until they clear me of any possible charges.
By the time we got to his place, Holly
was lying in a pool of blood, unconscious, and there was a good chance he was
getting ready to do something to Tasha against her will. I’ve had enough
dealings with Nick to know talking to him wasn’t an option. When he’s strung
out, he’s not thinking at all. That’s why I took the shot when I had it.
“What’ll happen to you if she doesn’t
wake up?” Tasha asks, tears filling her eyes. I can’t imagine the pain she is
in, seeing her friend lying in this hospital bed with a variety of probes and
wires attached to her body.
I resist the urge to tell her that Holly
opened her eyes today. If it hadn’t been a fleeting moment, if anyone besides
me had seen her deep brown irises, it would make sense to mention it. But, for
now, I keep that information to myself because Holly is once again lying in her
bed with no signs of waking any time soon. Not only that, but Tasha will hate
herself if she knows Holly woke up and she wasn’t here.
Professionally, I’m confident that I will
be fine once the investigation wraps up. I know I did nothing wrong when I
fired a round at Nick Romero, Tasha’s ex-husband. My paid administrative leave
is a formality while they try to conclude the investigation of the night’s
events. Personally, I can’t bear the thought of Holly not pulling through.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure Tasha, motioning
for her to join me in the chair between the bed and the window. “Where’s Dylan
today?”
“He’s finally getting back to work,” she
sighs. “Between the two of us, I was starting to wonder if he would ever leave
town again.”
“You can’t really blame him, can you?
Look at everything the two of you have been through since you met.” I don’t
bother listing off the number of police reports I filed on her behalf because
all that will do is get her thinking about what she could have done differently
to stop Holly from going in debt to a drug dealer.
Tasha doesn’t answer me. Instead, she
stares at the monitors, as if they will give her some insight as to what’s
going on with Holly. No one knows why she’s not waking up. The doctors think
her body might just need time to heal itself from the combination of drug abuse
and the assault.
At some point, I drift off to sleep. I
can hear Tasha talking to Holly, begging her to wake up so they can get past
their problems.
“Please, Holly, you have to wake up,” she
sobs. “You can’t leave me, especially when I was mad at you when you saw me
last. You have to wake up so I can tell you how sorry I am for not trying
harder.”
“Next week is Thanksgiving. Dylan and I
are having a bunch of people over to the house. I know you probably won’t be
out of the hospital by then, but I can see if they’ll let me bring you some
pie.”
I’m awake now, but I stay as still as
possible. I want the girls to have this time together and Tasha gets quiet
whenever she knows I’m listening. This is how I learn the most about Holly;
eavesdropping on Tasha’s ramblings, hearing about the trouble they used to get
into. Despite her frail, bruised appearance, I know she’s a spitfire. I only
hope that someday I will be able to experience her attitude for myself.
(Holly)
My body feels pulled toward the ground by
lead weights, I can barely move. Even if not for the pressure, everything feels
stiff. As I assess my situation, I hear voices around me, arguing. I focus on
my breathing, trying to keep it steady so they won’t know I’m awake. If I open
my eyes, I’ll have to face him and I’m not ready to do that.
“I’ve already arranged to help her get
clean, I don’t see why you think we owe her anything beyond that.” I may not
know Dylan well, but it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s pissed off. But at
whom?
“Dylan,” a deep male voice warns. I’m
trying to figure out why that voice sounds familiar to me. “Do you really mean
to tell me you’ve never fucked up?”
“Like this?” He sneers. “No, I’ve never
almost gotten myself and someone I claim to care about killed because I was so
fucked up I couldn’t think straight.”
The words are completely true, but that
doesn’t make them sting any less. While I have no clue what day it is or how
long I’ve been asleep, I remember everything that led to me being here. I wish
this was one of those times when the movies had it right, that I had no clue
what happened to me.
“Dylan, you’re not being fair,” Tasha
sobs. Her voice is further away than the men. Knowing she’s in the room causes
an internal struggle. I want to see her, to apologize to her, to beg her to
forgive me, but I’m not sure I deserve her forgiveness. I’m the one who led her
into the arms of her ex-husband in a feeble attempt to save myself.
“Tasha,” Dylan scolds her in a low voice.
“You’re the only reason I’m even standing here having this conversation. Don’t
push your luck tonight.”
“Dylan, calm down,” the deep voice
encourages. There’s no one in my life I can think of who would be sticking up
for me this way, so who is he? “Take a look at your woman. Do you see how much
this hurts her? How torn she is? Don’t make this even harder on her. Holly
hasn’t always been the mess you know her as…”
“And how would you know? You’re the one
who told me she was bad news. Now, all of a sudden you’re saying she’s not
really a messed up junkie?”
Gee Dylan, don’t hold back now. Not that
he has ever been one to censor his thoughts, but I hate him for being so frank
when, for all he knows, I’m lying here fighting for my life. And how does the
deep voice know anything about me? It’s going to drive me nuts, not knowing who
that voice belongs to, knowing that we’ve obviously met before.
“As I said before, everyone makes
mistakes. Do you really think Tasha would be fighting this hard for us to help
her if there wasn’t something good in her, even if it’s buried deep down?”
Between the kind words and the way I feel his voice as he speaks, I want to
leap into the mystery man’s arms and thank him. Well, I would if the mere
thought of moving didn’t send shockwaves of pain through my body.
“I have to get going,” Dylan says curtly.
Thank God for small miracles. “Tasha and I will stop by tomorrow to see how
she’s doing. But Tommy, you really have to let this go. She’s not yours to
save.”
Tommy? I don’t think I know anyone named
Tommy. Whoever he is, I’m grateful that he is here, no matter how much I don’t
deserve anyone’s kindness.
When Tasha squeezes my hand, I almost
work up the courage to look up at her, but I can’t. I know Dylan is still here
and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him again. If I thought he
hated me before all of this, I can’t imagine how he feels now.
I lie perfectly still until there’s no
noise in my room. Slowly, I open my eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dim
glow of the light over my bed.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.” I turn my head,
realizing that the man with the sexy-as-hell voice is still in the room. “Are
you actually going to wake up this time?” His voice is more compassionate now,
as if he’s trying to soothe my nerves.
As the room around me comes into focus, I
see a man folded into a chair next to my bed. He looks uncomfortable as hell
but makes no move to get up. His dark blue t-shirt is pulled tight across his
chest. A light gray hoodie covers his arms, but that doesn’t keep me from seeing
that this is a man who takes care of himself.
It’s when my eyes travel to his face that
I’m thankful I’m already lying in a hospital bed. The lines at the corners of
his eyes and dark circles below don’t detract from the warm honey color staring
at me. His cheeks are coated in just enough growth that I can’t tell if it’s
from a lack of shaving or his normal style. He’s gorgeous. And he’s the last
person I expected to see defending me.
Is this some sort of sick joke?
“What are you doing here?” I croak. My throat
is so dry the words barely form. Shock and relief fill his eyes as he looks up
at me.
About The Author:
Sloan
is a Midwestern mom who began writing nearly seven years ago as a way to make
money while staying home with her daughter. Now, with two kids in tow and
having written more articles on how to assemble various pieces of furniture
than she can count, she is reaching to make her dreams
come true.
Have you read the first book in the Isthmus Alliance Series?
Unexpected Angel
Synopsis:
Tasha Skinner finally
shed the baggage of a failed marriage. Now, she’s looking forward to a night of
margaritas and man-bashing. Tasha’s friends have other plans, including
Leather, Lace and liberation.
Dylan Caprese didn’t
want to go to Marquee, but he and his friends were on a mission. They took it
upon themselves to make sure things didn’t get out of hand when wannabe Doms
mixed alcohol with playtime at the monthly Leather and Lace night.
From the moment he
set eyes on Tasha, he knew there was something different about her. She wasn’t
some bondage babe who thought she knew what it meant to be into BDSM. She was
much, much worse; she was innocent and trusting. He can tell she is something
precious.
When Tasha’s past
threatens to destroy her, Dylan begins to realize that while their paths have
never crossed, their lives most definitely have. Will he be able to save her
before it’s too late?
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