Mastered by Malone (Haven Texas Book 6) Page 9

  “Didn’t know I had to give you a rundown of my medical history.”

  To her surprise, he nodded. “And that’s on me. Should have asked you that when you first arrived here. But I’m making up for that now. These the only medications you have? What about birth control? Anything else I need to know about?”

  “I don’t think you need to know about any of it,” she snapped. “I need to get up. I’m running late. Were the guys pissed off that breakfast wasn’t ready?”

  She felt terrible about that.

  “They’re capable of frying some eggs and making toast. Don’t let them fool you into thinking they’re helpless, they’re not.”

  “I know that,” she said. Way to make her feel like she wasn’t important at all.

  Alec sighed then surprised her by sitting on the bed, facing her. “I didn’t mean that they didn’t miss your cooking. Moaned about it something fierce. But you’re allowed to sleep in. Especially when you’re not feeling well.”

  She was silent.

  “Calamity Jane? You know that, right? You’re not our slave. You can have a damn day off.”

  “And do what?” she whispered. Shit. She hadn’t actually meant to say that. “Forget it. Cool. Day off. I can do that. And stop calling me Calamity Jane. I know there have been one or two issues, but I don’t cause chaos wherever I go.”

  “That’s debatable.” He watched her carefully. “I want to know more about these anxiety attacks and this medication. It’s running low. You supposed to get a refill?”

  “Hard to do when I can’t leave a paper trail.”

  “How’d you get them and the other shit in the first place?” He looked down at the label.

  “Mike knew someone who owed him a favor. I guess I could call him, and he could organize some more.” Hope filled her.

  “No can do. Too risky to use the same person. And I don’t want you getting more pills without talking to someone in person first.”

  She ground her teeth together and tried to remind herself that she couldn’t tell him where he could shove his orders.

  “First, it’s going to be kind of hard to talk to anyone when I can’t leave the house. Second, what pills I do or don’t take has nothing to do with you.”

  “It does when you’re having panic attacks that make you curl into a ball and throw up then pretty much pass out in exhaustion on my watch.”

  “I’m not on your watch.”

  He just stared at her. Fine. She got it. She was on his watch.

  “You’re in charge of keeping me alive. You don’t have to keep me sane.”

  “Actually, I’ve got to do both. You think the defense attorneys won’t use this against you?” He shook the container.

  She sucked in a breath; she hadn’t even thought of that. Just the idea of being in front of a bunch of people, of seeing that monster again . . . her breath came in short, sharp pants.

  “Shit. Fuck. Babe, stop it. Slow your breathing. Come on. In then out. That’s it. Do it with me. Fuck. That’s it.”

  She focused in on him as she managed to fight back the impending panic attack. He held her hand to his chest but, as she calmed, he dropped it down onto her lap, still keeping hold of it.

  “How often do you have these attacks?”

  “N-not usually one after another like this,” she reassured him. She concentrated on her breathing. Slow and steady.

  “How many have you had since you’ve been here?”

  She didn’t really want to answer that.

  “How many?” he demanded in a voice she couldn’t ignore. Damn him.

  “Four, not counting last night.”

  “I don’t like that you kept that from me.” His voice was a dark warning.

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “Far as I was aware, your protection only regards my body, not my fucked-up mind.”

  He shook his head. “Again with the swearing.”

  “Again with the arrogant commands.”

  He eyed her. “I’d like to know what you planned to do once these pills ran out.”

  “Hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

  “Medication should have been at the top of the list I told you to write. The one I still don’t have.”

  “You just said that I can’t get hold of more,” she pointed out.

  “No, I said I didn’t want you getting more without talking to someone. You need to be talking to someone on a regular basis.”

  Not something she didn’t know. “Again, how?”

  “I know someone. She’ll keep quiet about you. And she can assess if you need more of these. Not good that you have a panic attack just thinking about testifying when you’ve got to actually do it in a few weeks.”

  Again, he wasn’t saying something she didn’t know.

  “You trust this person?”

  “Much as I trust anyone who isn’t family, yeah. Molly’s good people.”

  Molly. Was she an ex-girlfriend? And why did she feel so jealous at the idea of him seeing someone? She bet Molly was curvy and gorgeous and put together. Not a freaking mess.

  “Didn’t you say you had somewhere to be?”

  “Got plenty of places I need to be. But right now, I’m trying to sort this mess out.”

  Okay. That stung. She knew that she wasn’t important to him—not even close—but being called a mess was never something someone wanted to hear.

  “Fuck. Shouldn’t have put it like that.” He reached over and cupped her chin. “But you’ve got to know this is a mess, right? You on the run for your life, having to hide here, not being able to sleep in the dark, panic attacks. It’s a mess.”

  “Yeah. My life, right?” She tried to smile. Didn’t work. “But it’s not your mess to figure out. It’s mine.”

  “Afraid it is. You’re living in my house, under my protection.” He looked down at her. “Right now, you’re in my bed.”

  “Yes, but not like that. I mean . . .” Why had she slept in his bed last night? “You were just watching over me.”

  “Was that what I was doing?” he muttered. “Wasn’t quite sure.”

  What the heck did that mean? Before she could question him, he looked down at the bottle of pills. “You have to take these with food?”

  “Um, best to, yes.”

  “All right. You get up and dressed. I’ll make you some breakfast.”

  “I don’t need you to make me breakfast. You need to get to work.”

  He just studied her. “Fine. Make yourself breakfast. Then get some more rest. No housework today. No baking. You rest. You take your meds and you rest.”

  He stood and set the bottle down. “You never answered me before. Anything else about your health I need to know? There was no birth control in that drawer.”

  “I really don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  He just stared at her.

  “I get a shot twice a year, all right? I can’t remember to take those little pills.”

  He nodded. “I’ll call Molly, see if I can get her out here to see you. Sooner the better.”

  Right. Because she wouldn’t want this to happen again. Even if she didn’t particularly want to talk to some stranger about what she’d seen, it had to be better to living like this, surely.

  8

  Mia stood beside Alec on the porch and watched as the small car drove up the driveway, bouncing along the potholes.

  “You should really get those holes filled in,” she told him. “They nearly knocked out all my fillings when we were driving up here.”

  “That’s the idea,” he told her.

  “What? Do you get kickbacks from a local dentist if you send them a certain number of customers each month?”

  He just sent her a look. “No, they’re there to make people uncomfortable. So they don’t come back.”

  She didn’t really know what to say to that, so she just fell silent. The whole time she’d been here, there had only been one visitor to the Lonely Horse Ranch, and he’d been sto
pped at the gate. She only knew because Jaret had been cursing up a storm about someone called Osborne who wanted to buy the ranch and wouldn’t give up.

  So she guessed he was right, the potholes did the job. As did the gates. And the fact that there were always a couple of Malones around at all times.

  “Why do you have such security measures?” she asked.

  All she got in reply was another look.

  Right. She got it. He wasn’t going to answer that. There were a lot of things he wouldn’t answer. Nerves bubbled in her tummy. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t talk to a stranger. But she also didn’t want a repeat of the other night. Nope, she could puke on someone once but twice was just taking it too far.

  Oh, hell. She really was losing it.

  A woman climbed out of the car, and the sunlight caught her gorgeous, red hair. She had a killer figure. All curves. Mia was kind of surprised that she was dressed in just a pair of plain, black jeans and an oversized, bright-blue shirt.

  She clenched her hands around the porch railing. Her knees went weak. “I’ve changed my mind.”

  He didn’t say anything, but she could sense his gaze on her. Then he moved closer, not touching her, but his scent surrounded her. Mia felt the desire to lean back, just to lean into that strength for a while. But she held herself tensely. It was bad enough he’d seen her at her weakest. He wasn’t her boyfriend, he wasn’t even a friend, he was just the poor guy who was unfortunate enough to have to deal with her.

  “It’s going to be okay, Mia.” His breath whispered against her neck and she shivered slightly. The last two nights she’d dreamed about him, when she wasn’t having nightmares. Dreamed of him touching her. Tasting her. That instead of sleeping that night in his bed, he’d rolled over her, pressing his weight against her, telling her he couldn’t spend another moment in her presence without taking her.

  She didn’t know whether to be peeved or relieved that hadn’t happened.

  “How do you know? Do you talk to a lot of shrinks about your personal shit?”

  “One, don’t swear. Two, what makes you think I’ve got any shit to talk about? Three, the shit you’ve got going on is more than most people could take without having a breakdown. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Mia.”

  “One, I’ll swear if I want to. Two, I may not know you well, but I do know that there’s a lot you don’t talk about. Three, that’s exactly why I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to bring it up. I don’t want to think about it.”

  “Burying stuff doesn’t make it disappear. Believe me.”

  And then she had to shut up, because the pretty redhead had stopped talking to Tanner, who had somehow miraculously appeared out of nowhere, and was coming up the steps.

  Right. It seems she was doing this whether she wanted to or not.

  Turned out Molly was nothing like she’d expected. For one thing, she’d kind of thought she might hate her. Mostly because of the hint of fondness in Alec’s voice when he talked about her. But Molly was warm and funny and kind. She was also married to the Sheriff of Haven; which Alec had left out. The ass.

  “Thank you for coming all the way out here, Molly,” she told the stunning redhead. “I’m really sorry to be a nuisance. Alec wouldn’t let me go to you.”

  “Understandable. Best no one knows you’re here. Even though I trust everyone who lives in Haven, there are all the tourists and people driving through. You never know who might be around.”

  “There’s little chance he’d have anyone here.” But the thought of it was enough to keep her from protesting too much. Actually, from protesting at all.

  “But better safe than sorry,” Molly said softly.

  “Am I putting you in a tough position, with your husband being the sheriff? Alec never told me that and I wouldn’t want to make things awkward.”

  Molly waved that away. “Doctor-patient confidentiality. No reason for Jake to know.” Molly smiled. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “I know . . . it’s just . . . what about the medication? You can’t prescribe me anything unless you fake my name. Is that even possible? How does that work? Won’t you get in trouble?”

  “Mia. I can call you Mia?” Molly leaned forward in her chair. They were in her small living room.

  Not hers. Not her home.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Mia, I knew what Alec was asking of me when he called. You don’t need to worry about me. But if you don’t want to talk to me, if you’re being forced to see me—”

  “No, it’s not that,” she said quickly, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “Well, it’s not only that. I guess a part of me is scared to talk about it. I want to forget; I don’t want to relive it.”

  “I understand. But honestly, sometimes the best thing you can do to break free of the things that scare you is to talk about them.”

  “Yeah that’s kind of what I’d expect a shrink to say.” She slammed her hand over a mouth as she said, looking at Molly and horror. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

  Molly waved that away. “Oh, don’t worry, I know exactly what you mean. It does sound like a typical psychiatrist thing to say. After all, I wouldn’t have much of a job left if everyone stopped talking about the things that scare them or worry them or keep them awake at night. But I’m not insulted, believe me I’ve heard everything coming out here. These boys don’t hold back.”

  She wouldn’t exactly refer to the Malones as boys. But she thought it best not to say that. She kind of figured she’d insulted Molly enough as it was, and she was just doing her a favor. Or, rather, doing Alec a favor.

  She wondered just how well Molly knew Alec.

  Don’t ask. Don’t ask.

  “How well do you know Alec Malone?”

  Well, that whole don’t ask thing lasted all of thirty seconds.

  Molly looked slightly surprised. “Well, to be honest, not that well at all. Alec tends to keep to himself. I see him sometimes at the club, of course.”

  The club? Did she mean a BDSM club? Okay, this time she definitely couldn’t ask.

  Molly grinned. “I can see you’re dying to ask. Go ahead.”

  Mia bit her lip. “What sort of club are you talking about?”

  Molly tilted her head to one side. “You know what sort of lifestyle Alec is into?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Haven is a small town,” Molly told her. “You pretty much know what everyone else is doing, although Alec Malone tends to be a bit of a loner. Of course I guess it’s hard to be a loner when you have a heap of brothers.”

  She wasn’t sure. It seemed that even here, on his ranch, surrounded by family, Alec was still a loner.

  But she nodded anyway. Alec’s secrets were his own. And she wasn’t about to divulge anything. After all she owed the man big time.

  “So while I don’t know that much about Alec, we do belong to the same BDSM club. My husband Jake, is also a Dominant.”

  “He is?” She blushed. “Sorry, I’m being really rude. I shouldn’t be asking you about your private life.”

  Molly shrugged. “Like I said, Haven is a small town. Wouldn’t have been long until you found out anyway. And I don’t have anything to hide.”

  What would it be like to have nothing to hide? She didn’t even know how that would feel.

  “Mia, again, anything you say to me here is confidential. I won’t tell Alec, unless you want me to. He’s given me some background information about what’s happened. He also said you had a panic attack the other night. Do you want to tell me about that?”

  “The panic attack?” She didn’t know what there was to say, really.

  “Do you get many of them?”

  “Not as many as I used to get before I started taking medication.” She looked down to see she was pressing her fingers together so tightly they were turning white. She forced herself to let go. Then she looked over at Molly. “They started almost immediately after . . . after you know what.”

&nb
sp; “Have you talked to anybody about what happened?” Molly asked her.

  “I told the police. I told my cousin.”

  “Anyone else? Another friend? The psychiatrist that wrote this prescription for the anti-anxiety pills?”

  She shook her head. “The psychiatrist owed my cousin a favor. I had a couple of panic attacks in around Mike and he knew I wasn’t going to be able to function unless I got them under control.”

  “Drugs can be really helpful,” Molly said to her gently. “But they can’t fix the crux of the problem. They can’t help you process what happened. They can help manage the symptoms. How are you sleeping? Eating?”

  “Sleeping and eating have become harder,” she admitted.

  “Harder?” Molly said thoughtfully. “I bet they have. Nightmares?”

  “Yes.”

  “Every night?”

  “It had gotten to the point where they weren’t coming every night, maybe every second night. And then my neighbor was shot dead instead of me.”

  She suddenly realized that sometime while they’d been speaking, she’d pulled her feet up onto the sofa and had her arms wrapped around her legs defensively. Shit. Fuck.

  “Do you know anything about PTSD?” Molly asked her gently, watching her. She bet the other woman didn’t miss much.

  She shook her head. “A little. I know it’s what soldiers often get after they’ve been to war.”

  “You’re right. People often suffer from PTSD after they’ve been through a traumatic experience. They’ve seen something, experienced something that’s out of the norm for them. It can make them anxious, ill, can make it hard to sleep. It can make it hard for them to leave their home.”

  “And you think I have PTSD?”

  “Yes, I do. There’re a few things you can do to help. Talking like this can help. About what happened. About how it made you feel.”

  “I don’t think I can do that.”

  It sounded like a form of torture. She didn’t want to talk about what happened. She just wanted to forget. “I know it’s scary but keeping everything locked down isn’t healthy. Sometimes going back to the scene can help.”

  “What? You mean going back to the restaurant?” She wasn’t doing that. Not ever.