Keeping What's His: Tate (Porter Brothers Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

Tate gave a strangled laugh. “How many did he bring?”

“Six.”

“The fucker couldn’t be inconspicuous if he tried.”

Sutton jumped when she heard a knock on the door.

“Let them in.”

“Hell no. You’re safer in jail.”

From the look of the men she had seen getting off those motorcycles, help wasn’t what they were going to be giving Tate. They were more likely to finish the job of his unknown assailant.

“Let them inside. They’ll know how to stop the bleeding.”

Sutton reluctantly went to the door. Her hand trembling, she opened the door slowly so the group of men could file inside. She stood by the door, trying to decide if she should make a run for it while she had the opportunity. Or so she thought until she noticed one of the bikers standing outside the door with his arms crossed against his chest. He was wearing sunglasses and covered in tattoos.

Sutton slammed the door in his face, deciding she was safer inside.

Cash stood behind the couch, staring down at Tate while one of his friends went around the couch to squat down next to him, checking on his wound.

“What in the fuck happened?”

“Someone knocked me out, and then the bastard stabbed me while I was out and planted the gun on me that killed Lyle,” Tate answered Cash’s question, his voice filled with pain.

“You sure you didn’t do it?”

“I believe I would know if I blew someone’s brains out.” Tate tried to shift away from the man who had picked up the disinfectant and gauze to clean his wound. “Dammit, Train, do you have to be so rough?”

“You want me to stop the bleeding?” the man answered without remorse, continuing to work on him.

Tate’s mouth snapped closed.

Sutton went into the kitchen, turning off the boiling water. Using a hot pad, she carried the water into the living room, setting it on the coffee table so the biker named Train could reach it.

When he shrugged off a small backpack, pulling out several items, she moved back, watching as he cleaned Tate then methodically sutured the wound. The other bikers stood silently as Tate cussed.

“Rachel could have fixed me up without making me wish I had bled to death.”

Cash’s mouth tightened. “Maybe so, but I’m not putting my child at risk because you’re a pussy.”

“Rachel’s pregnant?”

Cash nodded.

“She didn’t tell me.”

Sutton squashed the sympathy that his words stirred.

“She was going to tell you this weekend when we came over to dinner after Holly and Logan came home. She wanted to tell you all together.”

“Oh, I’m glad you didn’t tell her, then.”

“I told her. I don’t keep any secrets from my wife. She understood why I didn’t want her to come. She wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from helping you.”

Train stood up, reaching into his backpack and pulling out three bottles of pills. “One is for pain, one for infection, and the last one is an iron pill. All three of them are marked.”

Sutton took them from him.

“Give me one of those pain pills and some whiskey if you have it.”

“I don’t, but I have some beer.”

“That’ll have to do.”

Sutton went to get his beer, offering it to him after Cash helped lift him so he could swallow the pills then laid him back down. Tate’s eyes closed before his head was back on the pillow.

“What am I supposed to do?” Sutton asked Cash when the group of men went to the door.

“Keep his wound clean and dry for a few days. It shouldn’t take that asshole more than a couple of days before he’s back on his feet.”

“I can’t take care of him for that long. The police are looking for him, and I’m not going to jail for being an accessory.”

Cash’s lips twitched. “I’ll keep Knox off your property until Tate’s up and around and can figure out who attacked him. I’ll go by and let Greer know he’s okay. Maybe, between him and Dustin, they can figure out who wanted to pin Lyle’s murder on him.”

“You don’t think he did it, either?”

“Fuck no. If Tate killed Lyle, he would be bragging about it, not hiding out. Keep inside the house and don’t let anyone in but me and Knox.”

“Why would the sheriff help?” Sutton asked, confused.

“Because he’s a friend of mine. He’ll give Tate a few days’ head start to clear his name. After that”—Cash shrugged—“he’ll have to find some other place to hide out. As long as it’s not my house, I really don’t give a fuck. If he hadn’t pissed off most of the town, people would be more likely to believe in his innocence.”

Sutton silently agreed. Tate and his brothers would never win a popularity contest. Most of the townspeople would probably cheer if he was locked up.

Sutton stood in the doorway, watching the men ride away with mixed feelings. The bikers were intimidating on
and
off their bikes.

She checked on Tate, seeing he was asleep. His cheeks were flushed and his hair damp. Sutton’s hand went to his forehead, checking for a temperature. He was warm but not hot. She hoped the antibiotic she had given him would prevent him from getting an infection.

Using the hot water, she washed his hands and chest, wiping the dried blood away. Tate didn’t wake. When she finished, she pulled the blanket she kept at the foot of the couch over him then carried the dirty water to the bathroom to dump it down the drain.

Going back to the living room, she straightened up the mess, feeling her own eyes droop with fatigue. She hadn’t slept last night, and it was catching up with her.

She sat down at the end of the couch, placing his feet on her lap. If he moved, she would feel it and wake up. Letting her head fall to the back of the couch, she stopped fighting to stay awake, dozing off while wondering if she had lost her mind again by trying to help a man who wouldn’t appreciate it, much less thank her for risking her own freedom.

Sleepily, she opened her eyes to check on him. “You haven’t changed. You never could stay out of trouble.”

Chapter 10

Tate woke, wondering why in the fuck he was so sore. Opening his eyes in the dark room, he stared around, disoriented. Thinking he had drunk too much the night before, it was only when his gaze fell on Sutton that his memory returned.

Wincing, he tried to maneuver his body to take the pressure off his sore ribs. His hand rubbed the spot where he was sure someone had kicked him after knocking him out.

“Can I get you something?” Sutton’s husky voice drew his attention back to her.

His feet were laid casually across her lap, and her drowsy gaze hardened his dick despite his body being unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Water and another pain pill,” his voice croaked out the request.

Sutton raised her arm to look at her wrist watch. “It’s almost time for it, anyway.”

She scooted out from under his feet, stiffly rising to go the kitchen. It was only a moment before she was back, holding out the pain pill and a bottle of water.

Tate took the pill, chasing it down with the water thirstily.

“I’ll heat you up some soup. If you don’t eat something, the medication will make you sick.” She didn’t wait to hear if he wanted it or not, going back to the kitchen.

Tate tiredly rested his head back on the pillow, listening to her movements in the kitchen. When he smelled the soup, his stomach growled.

“What time is it?”

“Three in the morning,” Sutton said, coming back, carrying the cup of soup and setting it on the end table. Then she helped him to rise to a sitting position, and he thought he might pass out.

“The blood you lost will make you dizzy for a while. The knock on your head will make it worse.” She sat down next to him, handing him the soup.

His hand shook when he took it from her.

“Careful. It’s hot,” she warned.

Tate took a small sip, feeling as if he would hurl it up immediately. Sutton’s hand under the cup encouraged him to take another drink.

“The more you drink, the less you’ll feel sick.”

“Why in the fuck do you care?” Tate regretted the harsh words as soon as they left his mouth. His throbbing dick was aggravating the hell out of him. How could he still be attracted to the cheating liar?

“I don’t.” Her hand dropped to her lap.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “You’re being nice by letting me stay here, and I was being an ass.”

Sutton gave him a cold smile. “It comes naturally to you and your brothers. That’s why you’re holed up here.”

“We’re not ass-kissers; that’s for sure.”

“You’re in your thirties now, Tate. Don’t you think it’s time you grew up?”

His mouth twisted. “That’s twice this week I’ve been told that.”

Her head tilted to the side. “Who else said that to you?”

“Your father.”

Her expression became even more remote. “Then that’s the first thing we’ve agreed on in years.”

“Really? According to him, you haven’t talked to him in years. He said to tell you to call your mother, she’s not doing well.”

Sutton stood up, going to the window to look out, remaining silent.

“Must have been a pretty bad argument to cause a rift between you and your parents. From what I remember, you three were pretty tight.”

“Things changed.” She didn’t turn around or elaborate on the distance that had developed between her and her parents.

At one time, she would have told him without asking. She had been an open book. Now, she was closed off emotionally and physically, not just from him, but others who had been important in her life. Could her husband’s death have affected her so badly?

“Your father said you’re a widow.”

“Is that all he told you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“No reason, just curious. I didn’t know if he knew Scott was dead.”

“That must have been some fight you had with them.”

Sutton turned back from the window. “Can I get you some more soup?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be lucky if I can keep this down.”

Without a word, she left the room. She was gone several minutes, and he was beginning to wonder if she had gone to bed when she returned.

“I made Pap’s bed for you. You’ll be more comfortable there.” She held her hand out to help him up from the couch.

Tate stared at it for a second before taking it, trying not to give her too much of his weight. He grimaced as the pain in his chest and ribs nearly made him fall back, but Sutton grabbed his belt, steadying him.

“Put your arm over my shoulder,” she ordered.

Tate hesitated, but he knew he couldn’t make it to the bedroom alone, and if he spent another minute on the old couch, he would be a cripple come morning.

He placed his arm over her shoulder as they walked in the direction she led him.

“Do you want to use the bathroom before you lie back down?”

“Yes.”

She opened the door next to the open bedroom door, leading him inside after she flicked on the light switch.

“Open the door when you finish,” Sutton said, leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

Tate used the toilet then went to the bathroom sink. The man reflected in the mirror wondered how Sutton didn’t believe him capable of killing Lyle. His hair was plastered to his head, and he had a drugged-out look in his eyes. He looked like a serial killer.

He ran the water, making it as cold as he could. Using his hand, he splashed water onto his face and hair. When he finished, he opened the door to find Sutton waiting patiently.

He let her help him into the bedroom where he dropped onto the mattress, feeling too weak to bend over and take off his boots. As Sutton crouched down in front of him, doing it for him, Tate felt his dick stirring again.

She glanced up, catching him staring at her.

“Do you need some help to get out of your jeans?”

He was tempted to ask for her help, but decided his dick wouldn’t be able to handle her hands anywhere near his belt buckle.

“I can do it.”

Sutton nodded. Going to the boxes stacked against the wall, she rummaged through the one on top, pulling a pair of pajama pants and top from inside. She handed them to him.

“They might be a little short, but they should fit well enough.”

“I usually sleep naked,” he taunted to see what kind of reaction he would get.

“Go for it, but if the state police come to arrest your ass, don’t blame me if they carry you out of here with your dick flapping.”

Unable to help himself, he laughed then held his ribs from the pain it caused.

“You’ve become sassy. At one time, you would have turned bright red and taken off.”

“I’m not seventeen anymore.”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed, his eyes going to her full breasts and curvy hips.

She ignored his appreciative gaze. “Do you need anything else? If not, I’m going to bed.”

“You ever regret dumping me for Cash?” Tate didn’t know why the question came out of his mouth other than it had been one he wanted answered.

“Really?” She stared down at him angrily. “You want to ask that at three in the morning?”

“Never mind. I don’t give a fuck about the answer, anyway.” He wasn’t about to let her think it had bugged him over the years.

“If you didn’t want to know, then why ask? No, I never regretted Cash. What’s wrong, Tate? Does it burn your Porter pride that you weren’t the one who broke up with me?”

“You were replaced”—he snapped his fingers—“like that.”

Her mouth gave a curl of contempt. “Do you honestly think I didn’t know that? The Monday after prom, half a dozen of my friends told me by the end of first period that you spent the night with Lisa in the motel room you had reserved for us.”

He stiffened as he sat on the side of the bed. For a split-second, the controlled mask she kept on her face had dropped, and her agony and humiliation were revealed before being concealed once again by her nonchalance.

“Sutton…”

“Forget it. It didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t now.” She went out the door, leaving him alone, heading into the bedroom across the hall.

He wanted to go after her; instead, he changed into the pajamas she had given him then lay down on the bed after turning off the bedside lamp.

He stared up at the ceiling as the hurt she had shown played over and over in his mind. Had she regretted breaking up with him? Had it been a ploy to get him jealous?

Tate didn’t even know why it mattered after all this time. Then again, the sexual chemistry was still there between them, so maybe he wanted a taste of what he had been denied back then. Maybe he wanted to even the score and be the one to dump her this time.

Tate closed his eyes, the pain pill finally making him drowsy enough to ignore the pain. He wouldn’t be able to leave for the next few days. If he was lucky, he would finally be able to put his past with Sutton to rest. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and neither was she. Sutton was a widow. She probably had a couple of lovers before she married, and after the death of her husband. They both were adults, and if he decided he wanted to get her out of his system, there was nothing to stop him, not even Sutton.