Heather's Gift (Men of August 3)

Marly cried out in pain behind him as he held her close, feeling her body sag against the wall.

“No,” she cried out. “Please, no.”

“Marly, you don’t understand.” Anna shook her head, her eyes glittering with demonic fervor. “He protected us, baby. All he needed was Sammy. But Sam had to go and hit him and piss him off, and then Cade and Brock hit him. They had to pay, baby. Jedediah was a great man, Marly. Hell, they deserved it; even then the bastards shared their stupid girlfriends. Perverts. They all were.”

“He nearly killed Cade,” Marly screamed out in pain, fighting Sam harder now. “Damn you. Damn you. You’re not my mother. Never. Never, by God, will I know you as my mother.” She kicked at Sam’s legs, clawed at his arms, fighting to be free as voices began to raise the alarm downstairs and Cade came barreling up the stairs.

“Fuck. Anna.” He slid to a stop beside Sam, confusion marking his features as he stared at the gun and the wild-eyed woman waving it.

“Well, there he is,” Anna snarled viciously. “Big brother. Ever tell your lover how often you fucked your brothers, Cade? Or how many times they fucked you? Since we’re all here, maybe we oughta just reminisce for a while.” Gleeful laughter echoed in the air for a brutal, agonizing second before the shot was fired.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“I hate stupid people.” Sam watched in shock as Heather stepped from his room, fully dressed, her revolver held carefully in front of her as she stared at the fallen woman.

Silence reigned for long seconds, then rushing feet as Tara and Rick and nearly two dozen body guards ran upstairs.

“Call an ambulance, Tara,” Heather barked out the order roughly. “She’s not dead, but she’s not in good shape.

“Momma.” It was Marly’s broken, tear-filled voice that drew their eyes from the scene of the bleeding, unconscious woman slumped along the wall.

She moved slowly from behind Sam. Her eyes were wide, dazed as Cade caught her slight body in his arms.

“Keep her back, Cade,” Rick ordered abruptly as he knelt in front of Anna. “Damn, it was Helena,” he whispered again.

“Her name’s Anna. She’s Marly’s mother,” Cade bit out.

“Explains why she refused house duty and night shifts. She couldn’t take the chance that any of you would see her.” Tara knelt beside the fallen woman. “I allowed it, because she seemed so quiet, so sad.”

Rick shook his head. “She signed on with the agency a few years back, when we worked on the Stewart case. She worked with us off and on after that until we came here. She had perfect papers under the name Helena Doraga.”

“That was Grandmother’s maiden name,” Marly whispered, her voice hoarse. “She was going to kill Sam. She tried to kill Sarah.” She looked across the room to where Sarah watched the scene in amazement.

“Munchkin.” Sam touched her cheek as Cade held her upright. “This wasn’t your mother, baby. Not this woman.”

Sam saw the tears that rolled down her cheeks, saw Cade’s bitter helplessness in his eyes. The rage was gone from his brother’s face though. The dark, grief stricken anger that had lingered there for years was missing. Sam realized since finding Marly, his brother had slowly come to terms with the past.

He turned back to Heather, arching a brow sardonically as she tucked the pistol in its holster behind her hip. “Hey, Hot Stuff,” he growled. “I was supposed to be protecting you.”

He moved to her, jerking her into his arms, his lips covering hers in a kiss of thanksgiving, of joy. Her lips opened to him, her arms tightening around his shoulders as her breath hitched in her chest.

Pulling back, he stared into her damp eyes. “What?” He frowned down at her. “Don’t even think about leaving me, Heather. I won’t let you go.”

“Leaving you?” she questioned him roughly, her green eyes sparkling with her tears. “Sam, I was terrified. Completely terrified. You would have let that evil woman kill you. I know you would have. You walked right out of our room like a fucking sacrifice.” Her fist bounced on his upper arm as she struck him harshly. “Damn you. You know better than that.”

Sam laughed. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stem the happiness overflowing inside his soul. “Oh no, baby. The minute I had her outside she was done for. I would have come back, Heather. I wouldn’t, couldn’t let you go, baby.”

He held her close again, her slight weight enfolded in his arms as Sam looked over her head to Brock. He had stood before the door, knowing what would happen if Heather walked out unwarily. He had covered the slight crack she had made when opening it, had eased aside for the gunshot. But he had stood there, protecting her, ensuring her life. The same as he had protected Marly.

Rick’s men applied first aid to Anna, prepped her for the ambulance and moved her quickly downstairs as Cade and Marly followed. It would be hard on Marly, he knew. Her gentle heart, her dreams of her mother returning, were shattered forever. But she wasn’t alone. And she never would be.

“I owe you a bath,” Sam whispered into Heather’s still damp hair. “A bath and a lovin’. Think you can handle me?”

She snorted tearfully. “You and two more just like you…” She paused. “Well, maybe we’ll wait to try that one again.”

Sam chuckled, held her closer and drew her slowly into their room. The past was over. There were still questions that needed to be answered, and he knew his returning memories wouldn’t be easy on any of them. But the demons were gone. The fears were laid to rest and his life stretched out before him now, devoid of the loneliness, of the bleak, desperate pain. And Heather’s gift of love had healed those raw, aching wounds in his soul. Her acceptance, her love. The gift of her heart to them all.

Chapter Forty