Текст книги "Checkmate"
Автор книги: R. L. Mathewson
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"But you weren't here," she pointed out in an innocent tone that she knew would drive him crazy. It was probably wrong of her to enjoy tormenting him, but she didn't care. It was one of the few pleasures in life that she allowed herself.
"If it hadn't been for you, I would have been here and my men wouldn't have been delayed," he snapped, sounding more irritated.
With a sigh, she removed the final crate and brought it over to the other wall. "You shouldn't have to babysit your men, Connor. It's a waste of time and resources," she simply said as she walked back to the area she'd just cleared and inspected the wall.
The wall was made of wood, rotting wood, but that would work. She frowned as she looked down at her feet. Although the area matched the rest of the room's floor, dirt mixed with a heavy layer of dust, it didn't feel like dirt beneath her feet. Was it a wood floor, she wondered idly as she dragged her foot across the surface, shifting the dirt and sand to the side to reveal old rotting wood.
"Don't tell me how to handle my men, Rory. In fact, I'd appreciate it if you just stayed the hell out of my way completely," Connor snapped.
"That's going to be kind of hard to do with us working together, don't you think?" she mused.
"We're not working together, Rory. I'm running this site with the use of your men and equipment. You’re going to stay out of my way. If you can manage to do that and cut the bullshit like this morning then you'll come out of this a very rich woman," he said, ramming his fingers through his hair in frustration.
She ground her teeth together as she reminded herself that she had to play nice, well, at least while they were at work. Outside of work she didn't have to take his bullshit. "We signed that contract together, Connor, so whether you like it or not I will be working on this project and if you don't like that then you can-"
She never finished that sentence as the sounds of planks cracking cut her off. Before she could move so much as a muscle, the floor beneath her gave way and she found herself falling into darkness.
"Rory!" she thought she heard Connor yell, but she wasn't really sure since she couldn't hear much of anything above her own screams of agony.
Chapter 10
"Rory!" he yelled again as he gripped the edge of the splintered wood floor and pulled, uncaring that the dry rotting wood was tearing into his hands as he widened the hole she'd just dropped through. "Answer me goddammit!"
Nothing.
"Shit," he muttered, yanking his two way radio off his belt. He knew that he should call 911, but he needed help now. Besides, he wasn't about to leave Rory wherever the hell she just landed, alone, so that he could run outside and try getting a signal on his cell phone.
"Andrew!" he said, clicking off and dropping the radio by his side so that he could widen the whole while he waited for a response. When one didn't come quick enough he tried again with the same results.
Cursing his foreman to hell, he switched the radio to the channel he knew the James brothers used. "Craig, I need someone to call an ambulance and I need help down in the basement, fourth storage room to the right," he said, releasing the button with a click and praying that someone heard him.
"Connor, what the hell is going on?" Craig returned almost immediately.
"Rory's hurt. I need an ambulance and help," he said, quickly releasing the radio to set back to work on the hole.
"If you hurt her, I will-"
"I didn't hurt her!" he snapped, feeling his patience fray as his body shook. Please let her be okay, he prayed as he ripped another chunk of wood away with one hand. "Call a fucking ambulance and send some men down here now!" he snapped, tossing the radio down and promising to kill the bastard if he didn't move his ass.
Not even a minute later he heard the sounds of men running in his direction.
"Rory!" he heard Bryce yell.
"In here!" he answered as he ripped another piece of wood off, but it wasn't wide enough.
Shit!
He tore off another piece and then another until he was sure the space was big enough for him to fit through. He grabbed her flashlight and aimed it into the hole and squinted. He couldn't see anything but a set of stone stairs
"Rory!" he called down, but there was no answer.
"Shit!" he snapped as he dropped down onto his ass and shifted until his feet were in the hole. He shoved the flashlight in his pocket and moved to go after her.
"Where the hell is she?" Sean asked as he ran into the room with three of his brothers close behind him. He didn't need to look to know that Craig wasn't with them. The last he'd seen of the oldest brother he'd been on the roof tearing it apart. He also knew that Craig probably wasn't too far behind them.
"Rory crashed through this hole. Make sure they send Fire and Rescue with that ambulance," he said as he lowered himself into the hole, quickly, ignoring the sharp shards of wood that sliced through his clothes and skin as he went.
"Get the hell out of there and let one of us go. It's our sister down there," Johnny said, reaching to grab his arm and yank him out of the hole.
"Back the fuck off. I've got this," he said as he sucked in a breath and worked his way through the opening. Johnny paused in surprise just long enough to give him a chance to work his shoulders through the hole and when he dropped down, he released his hold on the splintered wood and did his best not to fall down the stairs and land on Rory.
With a grunt, he landed on his feet and quickly righted himself before he toppled over into the pitch black. He yanked the flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on, chasing away the darkness. He aimed the beam down the stairs and nearly dropped to his knees when he spotted her.
"Oh god......," he mumbled even as he raced down the stone stairs. "Rory? Rory!" he said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice, but failing miserably.
He dropped by her side, careful not to brush against her and quickly looked her over with the flashlight. She was on her side. Her left arm was obviously broken, blood trickled down her forehead and onto the dirt floor, forming a small pool of blood beneath her head and she was out. He wasn't sure what else was wrong with her so he didn't dare move her.
"Rory? You have to wake up," he said gently as he pressed his fingertips against the cut on her temple, careful not to apply too much pressure and hurt her.
"Is she okay?" Sean yelled down the hole.
"Her arm's broken, she has a head wound and she's unconscious," he yelled back, never taking his eyes away from her.
He heard her brothers arguing about who was coming down, but he didn't pay much attention to them as he placed the flashlight on the ground with the beam pointed at her. With a shaky hand, he pressed two blood stained fingers against her neck and searched for a pulse.
When he didn't find it, he promised everything that he had and was if she would just be okay. Hell, he couldn't imagine a world without Rory in it, didn't want to think about that happening. The moment his fingers came in contact with the proof that she was still very much alive, he nearly sagged with relief.
"Connor?" Rory said weakly.
"I'm here," he said softly as he let out a shaky breath. She was going to be okay. He'd make damn sure of it.
"We're all coming down!" Johnny yelled.
"She's awake!" he yelled back, noting Rory's cringe. Her head was probably pounding, he realized and having five brothers fussing over her and bickering wasn't going to help with that. "Stay up there and make the hole big enough for the stretcher and EMTs!"
There was a short pause before they started bitching, but thank fucking god they did as they were asked. He looked back at Rory and even in the dim light cast off by the flashlight he could tell that she was pale. Her mouth was pinched tightly and he had no doubt that she was struggling not to scream or cry.
"Where does it hurt, Rory?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his tone soothing even though he was panicking on the inside. What the hell was he supposed to do? He didn't know jack shit about first aid. The one and only time he attended a class on first aid hadn't ended well.
Then again, if the instructor had read the memo the school gave her, she wouldn't have made the mistake of placing them in the same class. She certainly wouldn't have ignored the other students' pleas, shouts and warnings about placing them together in the same group. Of course, he could have said something and Rory sure as hell could have said something, but they'd both been more than eager for a little payback after the incident at the convenient store the night before. It really shouldn't have surprised anyone when a demonstration in the Heimlich maneuver turned into him on his back with Rory straddling his waist and trying to shove a fistful of gauze down his throat or him flipping her off of him and onto her stomach and hog tying her with medical tape.
He still wasn't sure why the principal kicked them out of the class or blamed them for the woman's meltdown. It's not like it took her an hour to spit up all the bits of gauze that Rory managed to shove down his throat. Curling up into the fetal position beneath the desk had been a bit much for something so minor. Clearly the woman had no business teaching kids if something like that would set her off into full blown panic attack that needed five teachers, four cops and the paramedics to get her to come out from beneath the desk.
Now he was regretting not taking that course they offered every year at the community center. After this incident he was going to damn well make sure he went and he'd make his men do it as well. It was stupid not to have all his men trained in first aid, he realized as he grabbed the flashlight and ran it over Rory's body, taking a closer look to make sure that there wasn't any other damage.
"I think my arm's broken," she said, sucking in a breath before she continued, "and a few ribs might be bruised."
"Well, then try not to move," he said lamely, feeling like an idiot.
"Yeah, I'll get right on that," she said dryly as she noticeably cringed.
Her smartass remark helped ease some of his worry, but that only made way for the anger that had been simmering in the background. Now he couldn't hold it back any longer. She'd scared the shit out of him when she disappeared through the floor. Then when she didn't answer him and he couldn't get to her fast enough he'd feared the worse.
"What the hell were you doing down here by yourself in the first place?" he demanded as he continued to look her over, ignoring the way his hands shook at the memory of her falling through the floor.
"My job," she said tightly as she sucked in another deep breath.
"You had no business being down here, Rory," he said, noting the way she shivered. He pulled his long sleeve shirt off and laid it over her, leaving him in a white tee shirt.
"McGill called up and asked me to look into making the wine storage room bigger," she explained with a tremor in her voice as she did her best to hold it together.
"Then you should have waited for me, Rory," he snapped, feeling like an asshole yelling at an injured woman, but he couldn't help it. He knew he was taking it out on her, but god help him, he really just couldn't help it. He'd never been so frightened in his life.
"You were kind of tied up at the moment," she said, smiling weakly.
"And if you weren't interfering with my job, Rory, I would have been here!"
"Stop yelling at me, you insensitive bastard! You had it coming and you damn well know it," she said, forcing her eyes open to glare at him, then immediately winced and closed them right back up again as she assumed her grimace of pain.
"All I know is that better be the last time you pull a stunt like that, Rory. Whether you like it or not, this is my project and if you want to stick around then you're going to start doing things my way and that includes not taking bullshit chances," he bit through clenched teeth as he fought against the urge to pull the infuriating woman into his arms and comfort her.
"Doing my job is not taking chances and this is my project as well so you need to get the hell over-ow!" she cried out, turning her face towards the dirt floor as if she were trying to hide from the pain.
"Rory?" Brian yelled down the hole.
"She's fine!" Connor yelled back, never taking his eyes off her. Not knowing what else to do at the moment, he reached out and took her good hand into his and held it. He was surprised when she didn't try to pull her hand away, but instead gave his hand a squeeze.
"This is my project too, Connor, and if you can't accept that then we're going to have some serious problems," she said evenly after a minute as she continued to clasp onto his hand like a lifeline.
He sighed heavily. She was right of course. They were going to have problems.
* * * *
"I'm going to kick his ass," Craig said, earning approving nods from the rest of her brothers who were lounging around her bedroom.
"I told you," she said, sucking in a breath as sharp pain shot up her left arm and raced around her ribs as she slowly made her way from the bathroom to her bed, "he didn't do this."
Her brothers grumbled something, but quickly they let it go, which she would forever appreciate. Her head was pounding, her side hurt, she was starving and her arm was killing her. She couldn't wait to get into bed and take a few of the painkillers the doctor had given her.
As soon as she made it to the bed she let out a sigh of relief and proceeded to take her pills. She considered asking her brothers to get her something to eat, but that would mean having them stick around longer. Unfortunately for her, her brothers weren't exactly known for their domestic skills or their ability to be quiet and right now peace and quiet were the things that she craved more than anything.
Carefully, she laid down and closed her eyes, releasing another sigh of relief. Sleep, she just needed a little sleep and she'd be fine, she decided as she felt the first tendrils of sleep pull at her.
"Who's staying the night?" Sean asked, yanking her right back to reality, but since she was comfortable she decided not to bother with opening her eyes as she said, "No one is staying. Now get the hell out so that I can sleep," she mumbled around a loud yawn.
Her brothers weren't the coddling type and took her at her word. Craig took Bunny home with him for the night and they promised to give Dad an update so that he wouldn't worry. Not that he would. If it wasn't serious enough to warrant a night in the hospital then it wasn't serious enough to worry about, was her father's motto. He'd checked up on her at the ER, spoke with the doctor and when she told him that she was fine, he took her at her word.
Her brothers weren't so easily dissuaded, but giving her a ride home was pretty much the extent of their nursing abilities. They made her promise to call them if she needed anything, but other than that they left her to get a good night's sleep. That was all she needed, she thought as she drifted off.
It was pitch black when she woke up, biting back a cry of pain. Why did it hurt so much? It hadn’t hurt this badly when it broke and that had definitely been a memorable occasion. Her head pounded and with every breath she took, her ribs screamed in protest
Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to send her brothers away, she realized as she turned slightly to bury her face against her pillow and let out a scream of agony. She needed her pills or at the very least have someone knock her out so that she didn't have to experience this much pain.
"Shhhhh."
She barely heard the whisper or registered the large strong hands on her shoulders as she was turned over onto her back and pills were pressed against her lips. Once she accepted them into her mouth, the rim of a water bottle quickly followed. She swallowed her pills as she struggled not to scream out against the pain.
This was too much. She couldn't handle this, couldn't do this, she realized, panicking at the thought that there would be no escaping from this pain. She would have to-
"Shhhh, I've got you," the deep familiar voice said soothingly as she was carefully shifted until she was lying on her right side with her injured arm resting across a firm stomach. Her face was pressed against a warm shoulder as a strong arm came up behind her and pulled her closer.
"Connor?" she whispered softly, but apparently not softly enough since the sound tore through her already throbbing head.
"Go to sleep, Rory," he whispered against the top of her head.
If Connor was taking care of her, it could only mean one thing.......
"How long do I have?" she asked, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain.
She felt him go still beneath her. "How long do you have for what?"
She scoffed even as she adjusted herself so that she was lying tightly against him, accepting the comfort he offered during her last hours on this earth.
"Before I kick the bucket. What the hell do you think I'm talking about?" she snapped, immediately regretting the action when it sent sharp pain through her skull.
"That really depends on how much you piss me off," he sighed as he pulled her impossibly closer as if he needed the comfort as much as she did.
She thought over what he said and could only come to only one conclusion. "So it'll be soon then?"
He chuckled softly. "Probably."
Chapter 11
She was so damn beautiful, he thought as he gently pushed her hair away from the small cut on her forehead that hadn't needed stitches. He hoped it didn't leave a scar, not that it would lessen Rory's appeal, but it would be a constant reminder of the time that he failed her.
Instead of stubbornly standing there yesterday while she worked, he should have taken over. Then it would have been him falling through the floor and not her. He'd take a broken arm and bruised ribs over the scare she'd given him any day.
After she was placed on a backboard, hoisted up through the hole and placed in the back of the ambulance, he forced himself to walk away like it didn't bother him. He spent the rest of the night thinking. Rory was stubborn, holy hell was she stubborn and no matter what he did or said the damn woman wasn't going to stay away from the job site even with a broken arm. He could either fight with her and waste precious time and energy or he could give in, with a few conditions of course.
Rory needed someone to watch over her and since her brothers were too damn lazy to do it, that left only him. Not that it bothered him. He'd been doing it for most of their lives after all. At first he did it because he hadn't liked the idea of anyone else tormenting her and of course it did make it easier to make her life a living hell, but later on when they were both adults he did it out of guilt. He'd fucked up her life, big time, and he couldn't stomach the idea of her ever going through that much pain again, not because of him.
He'd tried to apologize several times, but she wouldn't listen to him. She hated him and he couldn't blame her. He'd done it for her own good, but he knew there was nothing that he could say to get her to see that. So instead, he kept an eye out for her and if anyone hurt her, he stepped in. A few of her boyfriends hadn't treated her right. They treated her like shit, cheated on her left and right, and just made her miserable.
A few of them, her brothers stepped up and handled, but there were a few that slipped their notice. He noticed. The asshole that shoved Rory in the parking lot over on Harrison after she dumped his ass ended up in the hospital later that night when Connor caught up with him. The asshole that bragged to his buddies that Rory was a bad lay ended up taking back every last word through a mouthful of broken teeth. He did his best to make up for what he’d done and this time would be no different.
He'd watch after her and keep her out of danger. Keeping an eye out for her would add to his workload, but if it meant keeping her safe then he'd do it. He owed her that much at least. If he hadn't interfered all those years ago she'd probably be head of the PTA by now with a dozen or so kids at home fighting for her attention instead of the pain in the ass dog with a fucked up name. Thanks to him that's not how things turned out. Thanks to him, she was doing a job that she had no business doing and was alone.
Not that he took the entire blame for her being alone. He didn't. Rory was easily the sexiest woman in town. Every man in town with two working eyes agreed. She was Playboy level hot. Great body, beautiful long hair with natural highlights and a face meant to take a man's breath away and she knew it, too.
Rory James knew how hot she was, but didn't care. Her focus was on her company and that was the problem. If she stepped back or let her brothers take over, she'd be able to find a decent guy to settle down with. Not that he was going to push for that. Oh hell no, she was his to torment. He might watch over her because of the damn guilt that racked him, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy their daily antics. He did and he fully planned on continuing with them until she either slapped a restraining order against him or a doctor called his time of death.
Until this project was over, he would have to keep an eye on her and while he did that he would continue to work on winning her brothers over. They'd gotten off to a rough patch, but now he knew what he had to do. Thanks to her father's invitation to join them this Sunday it was just a matter of time before the James boys ditched their sister and came to work for him, hopefully taking Rory's best employees right along with them.
If Rory needed a job after she lost her business because her best employees came to work for him then he'd consider letting her be his assistant. She could fetch his drinks and food all while wearing a tight Highland Construction tee shirt and tight jeans that showcased her ass perfectly. He'd be able to keep her safe, keep her close by to torment and really, that was all that mattered.
* * * *
"What the hell are you doing?" Rory demanded as she sat up, a little too quickly, she realized a few seconds later when the dull ache above her temple protested.
Without taking his eyes away from the laptop on his lap, Connor reached over and grabbed the prescription bottle off the night stand and handed it to her. "I'm working, Rory. What does it look like?" he asked distractedly as he looked at a file that he had spread open on the bed next to him.
"It looks like you're half naked in my bed!" she said, screeching just a tad bit.
He simply shrugged one wide shoulder as he grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to her. Since her head hurt and her arm felt like someone was shoving hot pokers into the bone, she decided to take her pills before she killed him. She took the pills, never taking her eyes off of him while she did it. Connor simply ignored her as he continued typing away at his computer, only pausing long enough to absently scratch his bare chest.
Her eyes darted down to the pair of charcoal colored sweatpants he wore and back up to his bare chest and then finally to his face, confirming her first observation, the man truly was half naked in her bed.
"Get out," she said, inwardly cringing when pain radiated up her arm as she slowly climbed off the bed and got to her feet.
"Can't," he said, keeping his focus on his computer while she looked around for something to throw at him. When she spotted her boots she considered throwing them, but they really wouldn't get the job done so she settled on glaring at him while she made her way to the bathroom.
"Out," she said firmly as she closed the bathroom door behind her.
He didn't say anything so she decided to take that as an agreement. Now that he annoyed her first thing in the morning he would be content on going about his day and leaving her alone. By the time she stepped out of the bathroom he would be gone and she would unfortunately be spending the rest of the day in bed since the damn doctor opened his big mouth and told her brothers that she shouldn't work today.
At least she'd get some paperwork done, she thought as she used the bathroom and cleaned up. She hated doing paperwork, but now that she was stuck in bed for a day she had no excuses not to do it. That wasn't entirely true since she was pretty sure that she could come up with a good excuse not to do it. Maybe she should just suck it up and get it over with, she decided as she opened the door and sighed with relief.
Connor was gone.
She didn't even bother wasting her time trying to figure out what the man thought he was doing in her bed this morning. It would just be one of those things that was best left alone. Her stomach rumbled as she reached her bed and she tried to ignore it, but it refused to be ignored.
Grumbling and admittedly bitching a little, she padded barefoot out of her room, down the hall and down the stairs as she prayed that her brothers hadn't hit her kitchen on the way out. Her cabinets were mostly empty to begin with, but if her brothers somehow forgot to make a side stop on their way out the door last night she should be able to whip something up with the half sleeve of saltines, third of a jar of olives and scrape a teaspoon or two of peanut butter out of the jar that probably should have been thrown away last year to make something somewhat edible.
Her stomach rumbled approvingly at the thought of an oily peanut butter and olive dip smothered over dry brittle saltine crackers so she quickened her pace only to stop abruptly when she passed the open double doors of her living room. Knowing, hell, praying that she was wrong, she backtracked until she was in front of the open doorway. She took a deep, calming breath and slowly turned around until she was facing her living room.
"They cleaned you out," Connor said as he stared intently down at his computer screen, which was now on her oak coffee table with about a dozen files scattered around it.
"What the hell are you still doing here?" she demanded as she walked into the living room.
"Working."
"I told you to get out," she reminded him as she crossed, well, tried to cross her arms over her chest, but her left arm apparently wasn't happy with that move. She settled for propping her hands on her hips and glaring down at him as he continued to ignore her.
"I did," he said.
"No, you didn't!"
With a heavy sigh, he sat back on the tan couch and finally looked at her. "You told me to get out and I did."
"No, you only left the bedroom," she pointed out, sounding a little irritated. "I told you to get out so you should have left the house."
"You didn't clarify that," he pointed out with a shrug.
"It was implied," she snapped.
"It really wasn't.
"Get out!"
"Sorry, can't do that," he said, shrugging.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm waiting for my food to be delivered and you and I have some work to do here since you decided to lounge around all day," he said, gesturing to the computer and the files before he flicked his hand lazily in her direction.
"I was not lounging around!"
"What do you call sleeping until one in the afternoon then?" he asked with a frown as he once again focused on his computer, clearly dismissing her.
"I call it being knocked out by painkillers, you jackass!" she snapped even as she desperately tried to reign her temper in, but it was always a difficult thing to do where Connor was concerned.
Her stomach wouldn't stop rumbling, her head was starting to pound and her damn arm was killing her. All she wanted to do was get something to eat, grab some aspirin and go back to bed, but she couldn't do that until her unwanted guest left. If he didn't get off her couch and get out of here soon she was going to-
"Come over here and sit down before you pass out," Connor said, concern coloring his tone as he stood up and gestured for her to sit down, taking her off guard.
"I'm fine," she said, casting a discreet look around the living room as she wondered what his game was. Connor O'Neil was not nice to her, never had been and as far as she knew, he never would be. So she obviously found this little act of concern a little unsettling.
"I need you conscious so that we can get some work done," he said on an exaggerated sigh as if that much should be obvious. While he took her elbow and led her to the couch, she guessed that maybe it should have been. The man wouldn't do anything unless it somehow benefitted him. Still........
Having Connor nice to her for any reason was unsettling so while he settled back on the couch next to her, she cast another look around the room, looking for hidden dangers. Maybe he was going to get rid of her once and for all so that he could have Strawberry Manor to himself, she thought.
"There's no poisonous spiders or snakes ready to leap out at you," Connor said, sounding amused as he handed her a bottle of aspirin. When she remembered a certain incident at summer camp when they were twelve and he laced her chocolate chip pancakes with laxatives she hesitated in taking the bottle from him.
With a sigh and a few muttered words about her being a big baby, he opened the bottle, popped two pills in his mouth and swallowed them dry as he handed her the bottle. Reluctantly, she took the bottle. When he handed her a bottle of water she glared at him and swallowed her pills dry as well.
"No trust," he said, shaking his head in disgust as he took the bottle from her and handed her a file.
"What's this?" she asked, opening the file and nearly groaned when she realized he'd handed her a spreadsheet. Since looking at numbers aggravated her eyes she shoved the file back at him and settled for bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them while she laid her head against her arm.
She couldn't believe how badly her head hurt. It seemed with each passing moment that it became progressively worse. Between that, her arm and ribs, she really wasn't in the mood to deal with Connor's bullshit today. She suddenly felt tired, so tired. Hadn't she just slept all night and most of the day away, she wondered as she felt herself drift off, but she fought it with everything she had.
