“Will you be back?” Cade didn’t look up. Brock knew what he would see if he did. Pain, anger, blood.
“I’ll be back in the morning for most of the day. I’ll drive the distance for the time being.” Brock shifted, watching Cade’s hands work stubborn leather, his head down bent.
“Marly still crying?” Cade’s voice reflected his torment now.
He couldn’t bear Marly’s tears. Never could. The sound of her sobs, or the whisper of tears over pale cheeks destroyed him. He would kill the man or woman who deliberately made Marly cry.
“No. I took care of it.” Brock clenched his teeth. Cade’s body tensed further.
“It’s best.” Cade finally nodded. “No sense in someone else being hurt by this, Brock.”
Cade was alone. Brock felt betraying moisture prick his eyes and he fought it back. The time for tears was long past. But damn, seeing his brother drawing away, being separated from him, tore at him. He pushed his hands through his hair, exhaling with a fierce breath.
“She’ll accept it, Cade. If you explain it to her.” It was a heavy disagreement between them all.
Cade refused to tell Marly the details of the abuse, in even the vaguest form. He wanted her shielded, sheltered. His fury when he learned Tara, Marly’s former bodyguard, had revealed part of it, had ended in a vicious, bloody fight between himself and Tara’s brother-in-law, Rick.
Cade shook his head.
“Let me tell her, Cade,” he urged him, unable to bear the lonely pain he knew Cade felt.
“No one tells her, Brock.” Cade moved to lift the saddle oil from the bench beside him, and Brock felt a shaft of agony pierce his heart.
His brother’s face was lined, rough with unshed pain, unshed rage. His eyes were bleak, and so damned dark they looked like violent thunderheads. Brock clenched his fists, sucked in a hard, silent breath. He could do nothing, say nothing. He could only watch as Cade tended a piece of their past that was forever gone. Like their innocence. Except innocence was irreparable.
“What do I do, Cade?” he asked, clearing the emotion from his throat. No emotion. No need. He couldn’t, because he couldn’t bear the return of the nightmares, the horrible memories. “It’s my home, too. Will you sacrifice us all without even trying?”
Shock bloomed through Brock when Cade faced him fully. God. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t look in those eyes, nearly black with memories, with pain, shame. They had no reason to feel shame. Yet, he knew Cade did.
“I will not take her sense of security from her, Brock.” Cade’s voice vibrated with all the shattered hopes and dreams of a man who had once been innocent. Young. “I won’t do it, and neither will you. When I can control my need to part from that bond with you and Sam, you can bring Sarah home.”
Brock looked around the tack room and thought of the large house. It echoed with Marly’s laughter and sometimes with Cade’s. More often with Sam’s. And Brock knew that if this didn’t resolve, then as long as he had Sarah, he would never be able to return.
“Yeah. Sure.” Brock straightened from the wall, avoiding Cade’s gaze, avoiding more than just a look, and he knew it. “Just let me know, Cade.” And he knew Cade never would.
He turned without giving his brother a chance to speak and left the room. He wasn’t sure, but when he reached the wide stable doors, he thought he heard an animal’s whimper of pain. That lonely, haunting sound burst over his soul with the agonizing force of time. A young man’s whimper, his eyes black with shock, shame, his body—
He shook his head, pushing it back. Back. Far away where it couldn’t hurt the man, where it could never destroy ever again. Back to the past, where the shame, regret and blood were forever hidden.
CHAPTER SIX
Sarah couldn’t believe what Brock had done. The appointment at the doctor was bad enough. A thorough exam and blood testing resulting in a quick shot into her forearm of a birth control medication. Dr. Bennett, pleased to learn that her cycle had just passed, was happy to begin the shots immediately. Then, to her immense mortification, with a nonchalant attitude blithely handed her the report on Brock’s last blood tests as well. Disease free. Her face flamed as she remembered the doctor’s curious glance at her.
Normally, she would have balked at Brock’s domineering attitude when he informed her of the appointment. But there had been something about him. Something broken and lost, an edge of desperation in his look that had halted her. The way he touched her cheek, pulled her to him, his arms tight, his breathing harsh as he held her. So she had given in instead. And she wasn’t certain what she had glimpsed, or why it had hurt her to the soles of her feet.
“All set?” Brock stood to his feet in the outer office as she walked out of the examination room.
He ignored her blush. She was certain he had noticed it.
“Yeah, all set.” She drew close to him, overwhelmed once again by the sheer maleness of him. He exuded testosterone. Hard and handsome, warm and strong, and if the bulge in his pants was any indication, more than ready to take her to bed.
“I just got a call from the sheriff,” he told her as he led her from the doctor’s office. “Mark and his little friend are gone, and the cleaning crew just finished cleaning the house. You’ll have to replace most of the clothes he destroyed, but other than that everything seems in order. I also had your bed replaced.”
Sarah sighed. He was taking over. Why was he taking over? What the hell was going on here? She brought a man home for a night of rough and tumble sex, and all of a sudden she had blood tests, a birth control shot, and a new bed. None of it made sense.
“Thank you, but there was no need to bother,” she told him a bit desperately. “I didn’t mean for you to be put out this way.”
“That’s okay, love, I haven’t been put out.” He placed his hand at the small of her back as he led her to the jeep. “Mark doesn’t seem to be real accepting of this divorce though, Sarah. What’s up with that?”