Page 36 of The Healing Touch (Manwhore #3)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

She slept most of the train ride from Charleston to LA, and for that, Dimitri was grateful.

She hadn’t wanted to take the pain pills the hospital had prescribed for her, but the very nasty blow she’d taken to her cheek and eye all but vibrated with pain.

Not to mention the stab wound in her leg.

She needed the medicine. And the sleep they caused.

Her body healed better when she slept. Even the doctor told her that, so Dimitri was having none of her protests.

He’d also tipped the kitchen car well to bring them their meals. His woman wasn’t able to handle the crowded dining car. She was a little embarrassed of how she looked, but she needn’t have been. Those wounds were badges of honor. She’d held her own against crazy and walked away the winner.

Dimitri wished he could settle her fears about inheriting her father’s love of brutality as easily as he could calm her panic.

That was, unfortunately, something she’d have to come to terms with herself.

He didn’t believe Becca was anything like the man who’d raised her.

Or didn’t. From what she’d told him, Dallas Rhodes only paid her any attention when he needed food or his wounds patched up.

Eventually, he hoped she’d realize the difference between a bruiser and survivor. He’d do everything in his power to help her, but most of that was going to be a battle in her own head.

He checked his email and set up his ads for his book release.

It was the last book he’d written before his spinal cord injury.

Not a single word had been written since.

Hell, he didn’t even think he’d done much by way of revisions.

Even Becca told him it could be better. He only hoped people would forgive him for one less than stellar release.

Part of him wanted to pull it back and apologize, but he knew nothing else would be forthcoming from him. His depression had silenced his words.

“Hey.”

Her sleepy voice interrupted his musings.

“Evening, sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

“Around nine p.m. We should be arriving soon. You hungry, Krasivaya ?”

“No more train food.” She tried to laugh but winced instead. “We should call Uber or a taxi to have them waiting.”

“Already taken care of. Mason’s meeting us at the station.”

“The flirty one from the phone.”

“The fucker better not flirt with you,” he said darkly.

She laughed, and pain scrunched up her face. “Please don’t make me laugh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Did you call the others beautiful too?”

Ah, she’d looked up what Krasivaya meant. He knew she’d get around to it eventually.

“I’ve told women they were beautiful, but I never called them that. I reserved that term of endearment only for you.”

“You’d never called me that before, and I wasn’t sure if it was something you used when you were trying to seduce one of your weekly flavors.”

“I never called any of them anything except their names and sometimes not even that. I’m ashamed to say I forgot some of their names, especially the one-night stands.”

He hated the censure in her eyes, but he couldn’t change his past. All he could do was concentrate on their future. And getting her to agree to marry him. He didn’t understand why she was being so stubborn about this.

They loved each other.

They enjoyed being around each other.

They could have long conversations about silly nonsense or some deep subject.

They were meant to be.

So why the fuck wouldn’t she say yes?

The conductor’s voice announcing their arrival interrupted his silent struggle.

Best to get their things together. He’d already packed their luggage while she slept, so there really wasn’t that much to do.

He shooed her into the bathroom so she could brush her teeth and take care of anything else. The girl hated fuzzy teeth.

They were the last ones off the train, but it didn’t mean the station was empty. It was crowded as hell, and he glanced at her, worried. Her hand was wrapped tightly around his, and he felt the tension in her body.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you.”

She nodded and looked down. He could all but hear her counting in her head. She told him it helped her to focus on something other than the panic.

“Motherfucker, it’s about damn time you got here. I was getting ready to go get pizza to wait on your ass.”

His baby brother, Mason, stood lounging against the wall by the exit. He was the spitting image of Nikoli. The two of them could pass for twins. Mason had a laughter in him Nik didn’t, though. The kid was always smiling and goofing around. It set him apart from all of them.

“Mason.” He let his brother take the rolling luggage from him. “This is Becca. Krasivaya , this is my brother.”

“The cutie pie from the phone.”

“I like her already. She knows which brother got all the looks.” Mason laughed and bowed. “At your service, milady.”

“Really?” Dimitri quirked a brow.

“Have you seen all this?” Mason gestured at himself. “I have to beat the women off.”

Becca laughed, suffering the pain. He was probably right. He was as beautiful as the rest of the men.

“You look like dog meat.”

They all jumped at the sound of the voice—well, everyone but Mason. Conner Kincaid stood just to the left of them.

“Well, if you had a crazy ex-girlfriend try to smash your face into a mirror, you wouldn’t look so hot either,” Becca quipped.

Conner shook his head, a smile cracking his face.

She hadn’t seen him for a while, but the change in him was dramatic.

He was older, his face harder. She saw the darkness lurking in his eyes, but she saw something none of the rest of them did.

She saw the pain. She knew what that pain was about and why he was the way he was now.

Disentangling herself from Dimitri, she limped over and pulled him to her in a hug so tight, she knew she had to be cutting off his lungs.

Conner stood there, unmoving, and she just hugged him harder.

He hated that he’d confessed everything to her in a drunken moment, hated that she knew his pain.

It was why she’d told Dimitri to leave him alone.

Conner would come through this, but he would do it in his own time and when he found someone who could see past the brutal exterior to the weeping wound below.

Finally, his arms came up and wrapped around her. He crushed her to him. “You know I’m the one who usually does the smashing, Sunshine. All you had to do was call.”

He’d picked up on Nikoli’s nickname for her. She didn’t mind. She loved the Kincaid boys. They could call her what they wanted.

“Conner, if you don’t get your hands off my fucking woman, I will hurt you.”

Conner laughed, the sound so dark and full of rage, she winced. He’d probably welcome a fight, and poor Dimitri would come out of it looking worse than she did.

“I do believe I’m the one who hugged him.” She leaned into him and whispered, “You good?”

His nod was barely there, but she saw it. She stepped back and let Dimitri wrap himself around her again.

“Dude, don’t be hating on Conner.” Mason struck a pose. “Not his fault she was so blinded by all this that she got confused and hugged the wrong brother.”

“You are not right, brat .” Conner shook his head and slapped the kid on the back. Mason stumbled, not having the same strength as an ex-Marine.

“Nope, I’m just charming as sin and gorgeous as fuck.” Mason winked at her, and they walked outside into the cool night air of the city.

The stench of smog hit, and her nose curled. Sure, Chicago had its fair share of pollution, but nothing like this.

“You get used to the smell,” Conner assured her.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Dimitri pulled her closer, and she felt the tension vibrating through him. He didn’t know she knew Conner as well as she did. None of them knew that, though.

“I had a meeting about a job. Figured I’d hang with you and Mason for a couple days until he told me what happened with you and Sunshine.”

“A job?”

“Yeah. I thought maybe I’d get out of the cold for a while, but the little fucker told me he was transferring to NYU next year, and that means most of our family will be on the east coast.”

“See, I knew he missed us.” Mason beamed at him.

“No, fucker, I just need to keep you out of jail. Don’t think I don’t know about all that illegal shit you been doing.”

“Who, me?”

Both Dimitri and Conner glared at him.

Mason shrugged, not at all worried.

“You finally leaving Chicago?” Dimitri asked.

“No. Chicago’s always going to be home for me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t visit the rest of you fuckers.”

“Do you guys ever go more than three sentences without using the word ‘fuck’?”

“No,” all three answered in unison.

They were incorrigible.

“Mason, throw their shit in that deathtrap of yours, and then we’ll swing by and get Mexican. Dimitri and his woman need some time to themselves before they’re exposed to your shenanigans.”

Said death trap was some old model pickup that looked ready to fall apart.

“Is that thing safe to drive?”

“Mostly.” Mason shrugged. “I’ve only had to duct tape it a couple of times.”

Becca looked doubtful but knew if there was a problem, she’d most likely be able to fix it.

She got in the truck gratefully and waited on Dimitri to say goodbye to his brothers. They’d be at his place soon enough, though, so she wasn’t sure a goodbye was warranted.

Now that she was here in LA, she was nervous. This was where she and Dimitri were supposed to explore their budding relationship.

Not that he considered it budding. It was a done deal for him, and he expected her to say yes to a marriage proposal.

God, she wanted to say yes so badly, but she held herself back.

That old fear was still there. What if he couldn’t handle her anxiety or he got bored with her? She didn’t want to end up broken and crying. This way, she could see if there was a future without any pressure.