In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)

Beau cocked one inquisitive eyebrow in Caleb’s direction. The brothers had always been masters at silent communication. It was if they were so in tune with one another that a simple look could convey a wealth of information. Or questions.

Which is likely why Caleb had seemed confused and even angry that Beau hadn’t consulted him about Ari, not that Beau had been given the opportunity, given the speed in which Ari’s situation—and the danger to her—had escalated.

“She’s fine,” Caleb murmured. “Late night last night. Tori had a bad dream. Ramie stayed up with her.”

“Anything I should know about?” Beau inquired.

Caleb was silent a moment. “At the time, I wouldn’t have thought so. But now? Yeah, I think you probably need to hear this.” His gaze drifted over Ari’s unconscious form. “How is she?”

“I’d say she has zero tolerance for painkillers,” Beau said wryly. “Either that or she’s just exhausted, which is likely given the events of the last twenty-four hours. Doctor Carey gave her the all clear on the CT scan, but gave her an injection because she was out of her mind with pain. She was out like a light in less than five minutes. I had to carry her out of the clinic and into the car I called for while waiting for the results of her scan.”

“Put her to bed then,” Caleb said quietly. “We have a hell of a lot to discuss. Zack’s been doing a lot of digging. Despite you not wanting to involve Dane and Eliza, I did call upon Eliza’s expertise in accessing data not readily available to the public. Zack’s in the security room making some calls, but he’ll know you’re back, so I’d expect him here by the time you return from putting Ari down.”

Something about Caleb’s tone immediately raised Beau’s hackles and his internal radar started beeping like hell. His brother’s expression was grim and he radiated seriousness.

Cursing softly under his breath, he turned and carried Ari down the hall, but instead of putting her in the extra bedroom where she’d been before, he veered to the right, where the restructured master bedroom was located.

The original home had been two stories, but after having to escape from the second-floor window and climbing off the roof after a bomb had taken out most of the main floor, Beau had decided against rebuilding the home as a multilevel residence. He liked his escape options a hell of a lot better when he didn’t have multiple stories to contend with.

He settled Ari onto his bed, telling himself that he didn’t want her to wake alone and frightened, and that was his only reason for putting her in his room. Even as the defensive thought crept through his mind, he knew he was a damn liar.

Yes, he would sleep in the recliner in the corner of the room that faced the big flat-screen television mounted to the wall at the foot of the bed, but the simple fact was he wanted her in his space. He’d made her a promise, and perhaps he was using that solemn vow he’d made as an excuse to have her in his bed, but he was not going to leave her alone and unprotected, even for a second. That included when she slept.

He even tucked her in, for God’s sake, carefully arranging the covers so nothing lay directly over the now stitched and bandaged wound. The doctor had unwittingly made it far easier to stitch Ari by giving her the injection as soon as the CT came back within normal limits.

It had indicated what the physician had called a slight “bruise” to an area of the brain that Beau couldn’t recall the scientific name for. He’d been too concerned over the word “bruise” until the doctor had informed him that it was nothing to be concerned about. Unless she underwent further trauma.

Beau’s relief had lasted only about three seconds before he began to worry about “further trauma.” Did that mean if she incurred another bleed, the bruise could worsen? There were a thousand questions that in retrospect he should have asked, but he’d been too focused on Ari, and soothing the anxiety in her eyes.

And well, once she’d been administered the injection and had quietly slipped into unconsciousness, Beau had been relieved then. Because her eyes were closed, which meant he couldn’t see pain reflected in the mesmerizing depths. And he knew that she’d at least momentarily found respite from the physical and emotional hurts she’d endured.

The doctor had ruefully announced that he’d never had a patient fall so hard under the effects of the pain medication he’d administered, but he also acknowledged that it would make the task of numbing the area and stitching the wound much quicker and more efficient. And in fact, it had taken him little time at all to finish, write scripts in Beau’s name and give him instructions on her care for the next several days.