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  Detective Orsbey walked out with her parents, followed by Kel and Mal.

  When it was just the three of them again, Chelbie started to cry.

  The men flanked her on either side of the bed, holding her hands, Rich on her left, Nick on her right.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Nick said. “I wish you would have just let us leave and deal with this when you feel better. We don’t want to come between you and your parents.”

  “I’m crying because I’m in fucking pain, not because of that.”

  “It’s all right to admit you’re upset, you know,” Rich said.

  “I am upset. Some fucking psycho tried to kill me!”

  “Chel, stop,” Nick said, squeezing her hand. Which, fortunately, didn’t have the IV in it. “This is us. Drop the snark and talk to us.”

  She stared into his blue eyes. “I knew they might freak a little, but I wanted them to be okay with this,” she said. “Why can’t they understand?”

  “Honey, poly isn’t something everyone accepts. And that’s their right not to. But this wasn’t the…best time to break that news to them.”

  “Are you saying I fucked it up?”

  “I’m saying they should be cut some serious slack. You weren’t exactly…tactful.”

  “And you’re on really good drugs,” Rich said.

  * * * *

  They let Chelbie out around noon and told the guys to not let her go to sleep until later that night, and to bring her back immediately if she had any complications.

  Chelbie tried to listen to that part, but boooring.

  She let the men—her men—handle it for her.

  A nurse had pulled her IV a couple of hours earlier, and she hadn’t had any pain meds since then.

  And she was really starting to hurt.

  A lot.

  A fuck-ton of pain.

  Baaaad kind of pain.

  Before she was discharged, they got the hospital’s pharmacy to fill her prescription for pain meds for her, enough for a week. They got her into Nick’s bed and Rich brought her a glass of water and a pill.

  “Take this, babe.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, struggling not to burst into tears. “I’ve fucked everything up, haven’t I?”

  “No,” Nick assured her. “We’re not going anywhere. We love you. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” Rich said.

  “I love you guys. You’re the best. Can you lay here with me?”

  “You’re not supposed to go to sleep,” Nick said.

  “I know. That’s why I need you.” She fumbled for their hands and pulled them up, holding them over her heart. “Please?”

  Rich looked at Nick. “I’m supposed to work tonight. I need to call in.”

  “Go work,” Chelbie said. “I’ll be okay. I don’t want you to get in trouble. And bring me knots home, pleeeease?”

  “It’s all right,” Nick said. “This is your biggest night.”

  “I hate leaving her.”

  “Subby says it’s okay for Sir to go.”

  Rich sighed. “I can tell the drugs are kicking in again.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sunday morning, Rich decided he’d better get someone to cover his Monday night gig at the coffeeshop. He didn’t want to, and his bank account would be screaming at him over it, but better to arrange a replacement than to outright cancel and piss off the owner. Tom had been very kind to him over the past couple of years, and he didn’t want to do anything to harm that relationship.

  And he felt horrible that he’d worked Saturday night. He should have stayed there, with Chelbie.

  I’ll just have to make cuts in my spending somewhere. She’s more important.

  When he rolled out of bed, Chelbie reached out. “Where are you going?” she mumbled.

  He leaned in and carefully brushed a kiss across her forehead, mindful of her stitches. “I need to cancel my gig for tomorrow night. I need to find someone to take it for me.”

  “I’m okay. Don’t cancel.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “We still don’t know who did this to you. I don’t want to leave you alone if we can help it.”

  “Nick will be home.”

  Nick sat up. “It’s okay.”

  “I want to do this,” Rich insisted. “Okay? It’s no big. I’ll find someone to cover for me. Maybe even swap gigs with them so I don’t lose the pay altogether.” He met Nick’s gaze. His brother stared him down, flinching first.

  “Okay,” Nick softly said.

  “I don’t want you to lose the money,” Chelbie said, nailing the heart of the matter. “Please. Go play.”

  “Let me be the judge of that, missy,” he teased using Dom tone.

  Either way, he still needed to go by the coffeeshop that morning to pick up a check for the previous week. He didn’t want to do it tomorrow, because Nick had to work, and he didn’t want to leave Chelbie alone in the apartment.

  Would not leave her alone.

  “You’re stubborn,” Nick said.

  “Yes, I am. So are you, bro.” He went and started a pot of coffee, going to take his shower while that brewed.

  He thought about who he could call to take his place. He’d start with the musicians who regularly played at the coffeeshop. Two of them he knew had other jobs that would prevent them from doing it, so he scratched them off his list.

  Maybe I should go get my check and ask if he minds if I cancel first.

  Surely if he explained what had happened, Tom would be sympathetic. And it would be the safer option, instead of just springing it on the man.

  I can’t afford to lose this gig.

  Closing his eyes and turning his face into the hot spray, he thought about it. Second-guessed himself. Nick and Chelbie were telling him not to cancel. If he sussed Tom out and the man did seem irritated over it, he could just go ahead and play anyway.

  Dammit.

  How could he be a Dom to Chelbie when he felt like he wasn’t even in control of his own life? At the mercy of his bank account?

  She deserves better.

  A light knock sounded on the bathroom door. “What?”

  The door opened. When he looked, Chelbie was bringing him his coffee. “Babe, why are you out of bed?”

  “Because I want to be.” She set the coffee on the edge of the sink and then dropped her robe. She was naked beneath it. Undeterred, she pushed the shower curtain aside and stepped into the back of the shower with him.

  Ugly black and purple bruises marred her arms, her back, and stiches crossed her forehead, where the baseball bat had hit her.

  Folding her into his embrace, he kissed the top of her head. “You didn’t have to get up, babe.”

  “I know I didn’t. I wanted to. You need to stop feeling guilty about this.”

  Shocked, he looked down to find her staring up at him with those sweet brown eyes of hers.

  “What?”

  “You feel guilty that you weren’t there. Stop it. You are in no way responsible for this. And I made you go to work Saturday night. You had to. It’s okay.”

  Actually, that was exactly how he felt, even though he couldn’t adequately explain why. “But I want to be here for you now.”

  “I know. And I love you for it. Nick will get home Monday and be with me. Then you can go play your gig. I’m serious. I want you to go play.”

  “I hate that I can’t take better care of you.”

  “I’m not asking you to take care of me. I’m not a child. I was going to be moving out of my parents’ house anyway. I have an income. I honestly don’t give a shit how much money you make. Am I going to lie and say it wasn’t something I used to look at in guys? No. I was shallow in some ways. But you work your ass off. You’re trying to better yourself. You’re a talented musician. You make people smile when you play. I’ve readjusted my priorities a lot in the past couple of days. All I care about is that you have the heart of a workhorse. And that you love me.”

  “It mean
s this much to you?”

  “Yes.”

  He couldn’t say no to her. Who was he trying to kid? “I still need to go get my check so Nick can deposit it for me tomorrow.”

  “Okay, that’s fine.” She smiled. “You can bring me back a couple of blueberry scones.”

  “Deal.”

  * * * *

  Rich tried not to think about how badly he did need the money from the gig. Especially with the damn car repairs digging into his budget.

  I catch the asshole who did it, they’re going to be fucking sorry.

  Not just a locking gas cap, but locking lug nuts were in his future, too. Although the money for those wasn’t really in his budget right now, either.

  When he walked into the coffeeshop, he was surprised to see Tom behind the counter taking orders. Usually he worked in back, or was in the office. It was only him and two other people.

  And they had a line.

  Dammit.

  He got in line and waited, because he didn’t want to interrupt the man.

  “I can wait,” Rich said, “but after I place my order, when you can, I came for my check. But seriously, no rush.” This morning wouldn’t be the morning to cancel. Fuck it, he’d play.

  “Thanks,” Tom said. “It’s ready. I’ll just have to go grab it. What’ll you take?”

  He looked in the case. “I’ll take all six of those blueberry scones that are left, and a black daily pick coffee. Large.” He and Nick could have the other scones.

  Tom bagged the scones for him, rang him up, and gave him his change. “I’ll get the coffee for you in just a minute, and your check. Hold on.”

  Rich stepped aside so the next person could order while Tom dashed into the back. He returned a moment later and got Rich his coffee after handing him his check.

  “Why shorthanded this morning?” Rich asked as he folded it and tucked it in his back pocket.

  “Damn Alexis flaked on me. She called off yesterday, said she was sick. Fifth time this month. I told her I’m done, and she needs to get her ass in here today or she’s fired. She’s already fifteen minutes—for fuck’s sake, what the hell happened to you?” Tom gaped at someone behind Rich.

  Tom never swore in front of customers. Rich had heard the door open and didn’t think anything of it. When he turned to look, he spotted Alexis scurrying toward the end of the counter, a pair of large sunglasses hiding part of her face, and wearing a hoodie, the hood pulled up.

  Rich frowned. “It’s nearly ninety out there. Why are you…”

  She glanced at Rich, and he realized why she wore the hoodie. Her face was a mess, what he could see around the glasses. Several regularly spaced gouges across one cheek, a couple of larger circular-shaped injuries on the other. On both cheeks there were lined patterns of smaller circular marks.

  It slammed into him, immediately, a baseball bat to his brain.

  Oh, shit. I’m a fucking idiot.

  With no further notes or incidents, none of them had thought about mentioning those events to the cops.

  “Hi, Rich,” she shyly said, ducking her head away from him and darting around the counter.

  Tom shook his head. “Alexis. What the heck happened to you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s nothing.” She pushed through the swinging door into the back.

  Rich now understood what writers talked about in horror books, that cold, creeping feeling washing up a person’s body and freezing them in their tracks.

  He knew.

  Tom went after her, following her to the back room. Rich grabbed his coffee and the bag of scones and bolted from the coffeeshop.

  I have to call Detective Orsbey.

  * * * *

  Rich sat in his car, nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and waiting. When the unmarked cruiser pulled into the parking lot twenty minutes later, his nerves were nearly shot.

  The detective opened the driver’s side door. Rich got out and headed toward him as a marked sheriff’s cruiser pulled into the parking lot.

  “Where is she?” Orsbey asked without hesitation.

  “Inside. Her first name’s Alexis. If she isn’t the one who attacked Chelbie, then I’ll fucking eat my goddamned guitar. She’s about the right height, and Chelbie said the attacker sounded like a young teenaged guy. Her face is covered with marks. She’s seen Chelbie with me and Nick here at the shop.”

  “Okay, calm down. We’ll handle it.” The uniformed deputy, a woman, had walked over to the detective. “You stay here,” Orsbey said to Rich, motioning for the deputy to follow him.

  Rich leaned against the cruiser. He hadn’t called or texted Nick and Chelbie yet, wanting to know for sure before getting their hopes up.

  In his heart, he knew.

  He jumped when his phone went off in his pocket fifteen minutes later. Digging it out, it was Nick.

  “You okay, bro?” Nick asked.

  “I’m…fine.”

  “What’s going on? What happened?”

  In the background, Rich heard Chelbie yell, “Is he okay? What happened?”

  “I’m fine. I’m still at the coffeeshop.”

  “Okay. We were just getting—”

  “Hold on.” Detective Orsbey had emerged from the coffeeshop, Alexis following behind him, the deputy bringing up the rear with one hand holding Alexis’ arm.

  Alexis still wore the hoodie, the hood back, no sunglasses.

  Her arms were handcuffed behind her. The deputy carried a purse Rich had seen Alexis enter the coffeeshop with a few minutes earlier.

  Alexis stared at the pavement. She had a black eye, and more scrapes.

  “I’ll call you right back,” Rich said. “I think they just caught Chelbie’s attacker.”

  “What—”

  Rich hung up on him, his heart pounding as the three walked toward the unmarked car.

  Detective Orsbey walked up to Rich while the deputy put Alexis in the back seat of the cruiser. “She confessed. Didn’t even try to deny it once I asked her how she got the facial injuries. And you had a car problem a couple of weeks ago, didn’t you?”

  Rich’s phone rang and he silenced it, sending Nick’s call to voice mail.

  “Yeah. We’d forgotten about it because it didn’t happen again and we didn’t know who did it. There was a note, too, left on my brother’s car.” He looked toward the cruiser. Alexis was now staring at him through the windshield. “So she really did do all that, huh? I wasn’t going to accuse her of it because I didn’t have any proof.”

  “Yeah. We’re taking her in now to book her and get her full statement.”

  “She just admitted it?” Rich sent another call to voice mail.

  “I Mirandized her, and asked her about her injuries, and she told me everything.”

  “What the hell? Why did she do it?”

  “She’s has the hots for you, apparently. She got pissed off that you had a girlfriend and she decided to try to hurt her. She said she didn’t expect her to fight back.”

  “She was going to kill her, wasn’t she?”

  “She didn’t say exactly that, but I’m betting in the interrogation room she clarifies a little.” He handed Rich a business card. “Can you bring Miss Larson in? That’s the address. I know she said she didn’t get a good look at her during the attack, but I still want to have her take a look and listen to her voice, just in case. Formality.”

  “Yeah.” This time, he answered Nick’s call.

  “Dude, what the—”

  “Get dressed,” he said. “And have Chelbie get dressed. I’ll be home in twenty minutes. Be ready to leave when I get there. We have to take Chelbie to the station. They caught her.”

  Nick went quiet. “They caught her?”

  “Yeah. I’ll explain when I get there.” He hung up. “We’ll be there in less than an hour,” he told the detective.

  “Good.” He stuck his hand out. “Good observation there, son.”

  Rich shook with h
im, feeling a little sick at heart as he glance at the cruiser again. “Wasn’t good enough or we would have thought about it sooner.” The deputy was getting behind the wheel of her cruiser, and Alexis still had a creepy, intense stare going on.

  “Hey, doesn’t matter. We got her, that’s what matters. You did good.”

  Chelbie had been hurt because of him. “Thanks.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nick nearly tackled Rich when he walked in. “What the hell’s going on? What happened? Who is it?”

  Chelbie emerged from Nick’s bedroom, her purse in her hand. “He can tell us in the car. Let’s go. Are those my scones?” She took the bag from him and looked inside. “Oooh, extras.”

  Once they were in Nick’s car, with Chelbie happily nomming on her scones in the backseat, Rich explained as Nick drove.

  “Son of a bitch,” Nick said. “Didn’t you say she comments on your videos and stuff?”

  “Yeah.” He thought about it. “Dammit. She’s been stalking me. I bet she’s the one who left the note on the car.”

  “I wish we still had that note.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Rich pounded his head against the head rest. “I’m so stupid. It was obvious.”

  “No it wasn’t,” Chelbie said from the backseat in a spray of scone crumbs. She held a hand up to her mouth to contain the crumbs. “Sorry. She’s a whackadoodle. Like my TRO guy.”

  “I barely even knew her name before now,” he said. “I’ve been playing there for two damn years, and she’s been working there about a year. Why the hell would she be obsessed with me?”

  “Bitches be crazy,” Chelbie mumbled from the backseat around another bite of blueberry scone.

  “Present company excluded,” Nick teased, glancing in the rearview mirror.

  Chelbie swallowed. “No, I absolutely am crazy, I’ll admit it. But I’m the good kind of crazy.”

  “I didn’t know there was a good kind,” Rich said.