The Heathen (Preacher Brothers 2)

The sound of water trickling had me trying to open my eyes, but the pain was sharp and fierce, and I groaned.

“Shhh.”

Who was that? One of my brothers? Was I at Dom’s place?

I couldn’t open my eyes, couldn’t even move. I felt hazy, drugged. My arms and legs felt like they were held down by lead weights, their hard and violent pulse moving throughout me.

“You’re okay. Don’t try to move though.”

I didn’t know the voice, but as soon as I waded through the muddled mess of my head, I realized it was definitely a female. Dom’s woman?

I tried to move, tried to push those heavy weights off my arms and legs, knowing I had to move past this, had to get through it. I couldn’t let something keep me down, even if I couldn’t remember what that something was.

I tried to sit up, my eyes feeling fused shut.

“Hey, easy now,” that voice said, and then I felt someone touch me on my shoulder, this light, warm feeling moving through me.

That weight had me stilling instantly.

“That’s right. That’s better.”

I turned my head toward the voice, my eyes feeling heavy as if coins covered them. Maybe I was dead? The pain, the inability to move… the weakness was all reminiscent of hell, right? And I certainly earned my place next to the very devil himself.

“Once the storm lets up, I’ll call for help, an ambulance, the police.”

I was shaking my head, groaning, trying to open my eyes. Why couldn’t I fucking open my eyes?

She started talking again, but I couldn’t understand what she said, her words starting to become one, strung together so they started sounding like a melody, a note on a chord.

“No help,” I finally managed to say, but my voice sounded garbled, thick, and unintelligible. I cleared my throat, and it felt like I’d swallowed rocks. “Don’t call anyone. No help. No police.” That’s the last fucking thing I needed.

Had she heard me? Had I said the words out loud? It didn’t really matter, because I felt that darkness wrap around me again, it’s icy, sharp fingers digging into my throat. And I let it take me under, because right now, I just didn’t give a fuck to fight harder.

Chapter Four

Kimber

I sat in my recliner with a cup of tea resting on one of my thighs, my fingers wrapped around the ceramic, the warmth from the mug seeping through my skin. But I was still chilled, and it had nothing to do with the weather outside.

For the hundredth time, I felt how stupid this was. I wasn’t a doctor despite the fact that I was confident in my medical abilities.

I should have taken him into town even with the shit weather and dangerous roads.

But just thinking those things over and over, a part of me knew I’d made the right call.

I checked my cell phone again. No bars of service. No signs of Wi-Fi or data. It was worthless at this stage.

I stared at him as he lay on the couch, his big body dwarfing the piece of furniture. It had been a pain in the ass getting him into my house, and after a scraped-up hand, banged-up knee, and my shoulder smacking into the banister on the porch as I tried to maneuver him inside, I’d finally got him where I could.

I preferred to have him in a bed, but even though I was fairly certain he didn’t have any life-threatening injuries, no broken bones or internal bleeding or anything like that, continuously moving him around wasn’t good. So, the couch it was.

He’d been in and out for the last couple hours, mumbling and groaning in his sleep, trying to move, even though he needed to be stationed for a time so he could heal.

I looked over by the door to where his black duffel bag was. Once I got him inside, I went back out and grabbed it but had forgotten all about it until just this moment. I stared at his face, at the gash I’d stitched up. The bruising and swelling were even worse now.

I set my mug down and went over to the door, picking up the duffel and bringing it over to the kitchen. I set it on the table and sat down, still able to see him from my spot. I gripped the little silver zipper and pulled it open, looking inside at the contents.

He’d had no ID on him, and I’d been so focused on getting him out of the car that I hadn’t checked the SUV more thoroughly to see if he had one in there. But maybe he had something in the duffel that could give me more information on who and what I was dealing with.

I pulled out a couple pairs of jeans, three white T-shirts, socks, and boxer briefs, a bottle of sleeping pills, and then… jackpot. His wallet. I set that close to me to look through it as soon as I was done.