Chapter Twelve
L orelei’s eyes fluttered open and she ended up staring at the ceiling. She didn’t need to look to know Cross wasn’t next to her, and she wasn’t sure what to think after last night. Wonderment might be the right feeling, but a ribbon of embarrassment also lingered. She knew about sex, of course, but for the past five years it hadn’t even been a thought. At Noble Vale, she’d been under constant surveillance, so even masturbating was out of the question.
She headed to the en suite to empty her bladder and wash up. When she went back, she noticed a set of clean clothes rested on the end-of-the-bed bench. Tags were still on them. Jeans, a t-shirt, even clean panties and a bra, although when she looked down at her chest, she decided to forgo it. Wasn’t like she needed to secure them. She’d always been a slight girl, but living five years in a cage with mostly healthy meals and no desserts seemed to have stunted her natural growth.
Lorelei dressed, grabbed her notebook and pen, and then headed out of the room to find Cross. In the short amount of time they’d been together, she had come to rely on him. Maybe one day she wouldn’t need him as much, but truthfully, he made her feel safe. That was something she desperately craved right then.
The penthouse was huge and beautiful. A wall of windows overlooked the Las Vegas Strip, giving a breathtaking bird’s-eye view. She could barely see people moving about, resembling ants scurrying around their anthill. A baby grand piano rested in the corner near a modern glass fireplace. Expensive art decorated the walls. Buttery-soft-looking leather furniture added to the tasteful decadence of the décor. She followed faint noises down a hall and discovered Cross sitting at a large dining table opposite a large, imposing man with carefully groomed silver-threaded hair. The jagged scar on his cheek looked like it had been a nasty wound. She wondered if she could fix scars. Maybe the man would allow her to try someday. The sleeves on his button-down shirt were rolled up, revealing forearms covered in tattoos. Next to him sat another man, although he seemed a lot less foreboding than the other one, with neatly groomed dark hair.
“Oh, shit,” he said. “Lowen Mailliard was found dead in the courtyard of her home. It’s being ruled a suicide.”
“Her husband is a bastard,” the older man muttered, touching the scar on his face. “If she did kill herself, I don’t blame her. I’m sure she encountered more than her fair share of beatings.”
“I met her once, the evening of her engagement party.” Regret clouded his voice. “She had kind eyes and a soft smile. Such a fucking shame.”
At that moment, Cross glanced over and their eyes met. A charge of electricity shot through her as he rose to greet her. Cupping her face, he kissed her forehead and then took her hand and led her to the chair next to his. She sat and he scooted her in before grabbing her plate to fill it with some fruit and a croissant. Last, he filled a glass with orange juice and slid it near her. The other two men sat with their mouths hanging open, dueling expressions of surprise and shock flittering over their faces.
“Are you going to introduce us?”
“No,” Cross grumbled.
Lorelei studied the older man and figured he must be Jeremiah. She remembered Cross talking to him. She waved, and puzzlement furrowed his brow.
“I’m Jeremiah,” he said, then thumbed to the man next to him. “That’s Evren.”
She bobbed her head in a friendly greeting and then picked up her croissant to nibble on it. Evren opened his mouth, clearly intending to say something, but suddenly loud, off-key singing filtered from the hallway.
“Great,” Cross muttered, shooting his stepbrothers a glower. “Did you tell him to come by?”
“Sax comes and goes as he pleases,” Jeremiah replied, waving his fork around like it was no big deal. “You know none of us can make that man do anything he doesn’t want to do.”
Curious, Lorelei watched the doorway. A tall, muscular man stepped into the dining room, throwing his arms wide as he belted out a note. He wasn’t half bad. His blond hair was shorn on the sides and the top spiked with gel. Royal blue eyes that observed everything in a second. Tattoos lined the sides of his neck. Although he looked like an angel, there was a hint of cruelty etched in the brackets around his mouth. He focused on her for a moment, calculation floated through his gaze, as if he was trying to work out how she could benefit him. Perhaps that was how he assessed the world and how it revolved around him.
“Aera!” he cried. “Big bro has come home!”
“I’m not staying, Saxon.”
Saxon pouted. “You’re the only one not living in Vegas.”
“That’s what I said,” Jeremiah said.
Cross rolled his eyes.
“And who is this lovely lady?” Saxon asked, making a beeline for her. He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Tell me your name, so I might dream of you tonight.”
“Knock it off, Sax,” Cross warned.
Saxon winked at her and jabbed a thumb toward Cross as he addressed her. “Overbearing, isn’t he? Does he speak for you, Miss...?”
“She can’t talk,” Cross said quietly.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t. She’s mute.”
All the playful humor left Saxon. He moved forward and sat in the chair next to her, angling close as he studied her. “Were you born mute?”
Lorelei shook her head.
“How?” he asked Cross, pinning him down with a frown.
Cross raised an eyebrow, asking her silently if it was okay to tell them, and she nodded.
“Her parents were killed by a man who kept her locked up in Noble Vale Sanatorium. For five years, he beat her and hurt her. I went to rescue her, but she was able to escape on her own by killing the guard who was trying to rape her.”
Fury darkened Saxon’s face, and he didn’t once look away from her. “What did this walking dead man want with you?”
“She has a gift of healing,” Cross answered. “He sold her services.”
Confusion filled their faces.
“What does that mean?” Evren asked.
“It means exactly what I said. She heals people.”
“How exactly do you heal people?” Evren probed more. “Are you some sort of genius doctor like that old show we watched, uh ... what was it called ... oh, House ?”
Lorelei shook her head, then looked at Cross. She didn’t mind answering the questions, but she didn’t know if they’d believe her. Not many people had superpowers.
“She heals with her hands,” Cross replied.
Still, confusion lingered.
“I don’t get it,” Jeremiah said.
“I was shot last night.” Cross looked at each of his brothers. “That asshole I killed shot me first. I was dying. Lorelei laid her hands on my wound, and then I wasn’t shot anymore. She absorbed the wound. That’s why she was sick. She had to purge it from her system.”
“Are you trying to be funny?” Jeremiah demanded.
Lorelei looked down to her plate, understanding why he didn’t believe. It was a fantastical notion for any paranormal movie, but not necessarily in real life.
Next to her, Saxon suddenly pulled out a butterfly knife, grabbing her attention. With an expert shake of his wrist, he exposed the blade and then cut his hand. Blood squirted over the white tablecloth.
“What the fuck, Sax!” Jeremiah snapped.
Saxon watched, waiting, not even flinching at what had to be a painful cut. Before Cross could stop her, she laid her hand on top of the wound and immediately sank into his skin. Closing her eyes, she focused on knitting the flesh and muscle back together. It only took a few minutes because it wasn’t that bad of a cut. Once she was done, she opened her eyes to find Saxon staring at her in absolute disbelief. Cross took hold of her hand.
“Let me see,” he ordered. She opened her fist, knowing there wouldn’t be a wound. He pressed his hand to her forehead. “You seem a little hot...”
She took his hand in hers and smiled as she mouthed that she was fine.
“You aren’t fine,” he grumbled. “Don’t do that again.”
“Holy fucking witch balls!” Saxon exclaimed. He held up his wound-free hand. “This is some voodoo shit right here.”
“How’d you do that?” Evren asked, sounding awed.
She shrugged. Truth was, she really had no idea. It had been something she’d been able to do since she was a child. Her first memory of her so-called gift was when her mother had broken a finger and she instinctively fixed it.
“Where can I find someone like you?” Saxon asked, awe threading through his voice.
She wasn’t even sure how or why she had this power, let alone where others might be.
“Who was the son of a bitch who abused her?” Jeremiah steepled his fingers. “The man who sold this gift to others?”
She answered and held up the notebook so he could read the name.
“Costello Birsha,” Saxon muttered. “What a godawful name.”
“Wait,” Evren interjected. “Was the man last night sent by this Birsha asshole?”
“Yeah,” Cross replied.
“Someone fill me in on what happened,” Saxon ordered.
Lorelei reached for her juice, washing down the last part of her croissant, as she listened to Cross explain their journey so far. Anger darkened their faces, with Saxon looking downright murderous. She figured men like them wouldn’t care about one innocent woman being held against her will. Cross had already admitted he wasn’t a good man, but was anybody truly good or bad? She had killed someone, quite brutally. Was she bad? It was certainly a grey area, at least in her mind. To her, more monsters hid in the name of medicine then those who admitted it freely. The Noble Vale orderly who tried to rape her was a prime example, and how many other women had he violated? She lost no sleep over that predator.
“Are you keeping her?” Saxon asked his brother. There was an odd note in his voice. His tone more formal, or perhaps solemn might be a better description.
“Yes,” Cross replied.
“Good.” Saxon nodded his acknowledgment. “She needs to be treasured. And this Birsha. He still at Noble Vale?”
“He better be,” Cross said darkly. “I won’t hesitate to slit his throat if he comes after her again.”
“Welcome to the family, Lorelei,” Evren said.
Emotion welled through her. His words made her heart soar. It had been a long time since she’d felt cherished, not since her parents had been alive. Yet these men accepted her, like how family should.
“Aera,” Jeremiah said, capturing his attention. “Do you still want to leave Vegas?”
“You know how I feel about this city.”
“Then I have a proposition for you. I have acquired a place in Reno that needs ... attending.”
Cross snorted. “I’m not exactly manager material.”
“I don’t need a manager.”
“I’m not breaking the law anymore.” He glanced over at Lorelei. “I can’t do that to her. I made a mistake yesterday, but I’m all she has. I can’t risk prison time.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Aera,” Jeremiah said. “You think I’m a monster but you are family, and we’re all that each of us have.”
Lorelei laid a hand on his arm, and Cross looked at her. She hoped he saw the understanding and acceptance on her face. The absolute trust she had in him. Without hesitation, she knew he would protect her until he took his last breath.
He turned back to Jeremiah. “What’s the job?”
“I confiscated a gentleman’s club, located in Reno, from a man who failed to repay his loan. I’ve already sent a crew up there to inspect it, and they reported the place was overrun with less, how should I put it, desirable people. Apparently, a local pimp and his minions are terrorizing patrons and abusing the women.”
“So, what, you want me to Roadhouse the place?”
“In a nutshell, yeah.”
Cross leaned close to her. “What do you think? Wanna go to Reno?”
She cocked her head as she contemplated the suggestion. Although Reno wasn’t one of the cities they had discussed, it didn’t really matter to her when they went. She nodded her agreement.
Cross turns back to Jeremiah. “I guess we have a deal.”
“Great,” Evren added. “I’ll have a house waiting for you there.”
“Little sis,” Saxon said, grabbing her attention. “Don’t worry about this Birsha asshole. You have us now, so he’ll never bother you again. Okay?”
She really hoped not.