“You’re awake,” he said.

  I could see the water droplets on his chest from his still-damp hair. He’d taken a shower. I thought about our last shower together.

  “You need to eat,” he told me, coming to sit on the side of the bed. “Let me help you up so you can use the bathroom, and then we will get you some food.”

  Both of those things sounded good. I started to sit up and winced.

  “Easy, baby,” he said, reaching for me. “The strongest pain meds have worn off. We need you to take some of the new ones once you eat something.”

  I let him help me up, and when I was finally standing, I looked down to see a soft, pale blue silk nightgown that came about mid-thigh on my body. I lifted my eyes back to meet his.

  “I sent for some things,” he told me.

  “From where?” I asked, knowing this had not come from the things Melanie had bought me.

  “Paris originally, but it was from a boutique that I own. The manager sent over things in your size that I asked for,” he said.

  “You own a boutique? With women’s lingerie?” I asked.

  He smirked. “I own several things. I’ll give you a list later. Right now, I need you to stop swaying in place. My stress can’t handle it. Let’s stay focused.”

  I let him walk me into the bathroom, but refused to let him watch me use the toilet. That was when I noticed I wasn’t wearing any panties. When I was finished, I stood up to walk out, and he was there again, holding on to me.

  “Do I have panties here?” I asked.

  “Many,” he replied.

  “Could I put a pair on?” I asked.

  He grinned. “Yeah, I’ll get that when you aren’t walking around. I’m not letting you go.”

  When I was sitting on the edge of the bed, he told me to stay and went into his closet. Then, he came out with a pair of panties that looked like they matched this gown perfectly. He bent down in front of me, and I let him put them on since he seemed determined that I couldn’t.

  I stood, and he slid them all the way up. His hands ran down over my butt before moving away.

  “These are new?” I said to him.

  “Yes, they are,” he agreed.

  “Blaise?”

  “Hmm?” he replied, moving me back to the bed.

  “How many new items from Paris do I have?”

  He shrugged. “A few.”

  “As in three?”

  “Or more,” he replied. “Now, stop grilling me on your lingerie and move back against the headboard. I’m going to have food brought to the top of the stairs.”

  I obeyed.

  Thirty-Three

  It took a week of Blaise waiting on me, nurse visits, and rest before I felt normal again. My head was tender, but Tylenol killed most of that. Luckily, my stitches were low enough on the back of my head that the hair that had been shaved was underneath and not visible. My bruises were starting to fade on my body.

  Blaise had gone upstairs an hour ago to handle some work. I had been upstairs once a day for the past four days. I had needed sunshine. Gina had been chatty and good company when Blaise left me with her the times he needed to leave the house.

  Yesterday, I’d seen Gage and Huck for the first time since they’d saved me. My memories were all back from that night, and I knew now that they had clearly killed without remorse. They had found me. They had been trained at what they did, and this had nothing to do with horse racing.

  I thanked them for saving me. They both looked uncomfortable, but then Gage made a joke about being glad Sax and Trev hadn’t also been killed. Huck had hit him and given him a warning look.

  The bathtub was filled with lavender salts and bubbles when I sank down into it. I had been waiting patiently for Blaise to be ready to talk. I knew he didn’t think I could handle it yet with my injury, but I was fine now. He pampered me and made sure I had everything I could possibly want. I needed to know what had happened that night.

  Why me? Why had his closest friends found me? How had they known where to look for me? Why were they trained killers? You know, normal stuff.

  I laughed at my train of thought.

  “Glad I didn’t miss this,” Blaise said as he walked into the bathroom.

  “Want to get in with me?” I asked, hoping he said yes.

  He had been careful with me. So careful that there had been no intimacy at all. I missed it.

  He looked at my breasts, then back at me. His jaw clenched, and I knew he missed it too.

  He shook his head. “Bad idea,” he said finally.

  I sat up straighter so that the bubbles didn’t cover my naked breasts at all. “I think it’s a really good idea,” I replied.

  He inhaled sharply through his nose. “How is your body? Sore?”

  I shook my head. “Not sore. But a little achy. Especially between my legs.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he walked toward me. “How about your head?”

  I stood up then and let the water and suds run down my body. “It’s good,” I said, reaching out to tug on his shirt. “Take that off. Please.”

  He picked me up under my arms and took me out of the tub. Grabbing a towel, he began to dry me while I stood on the rug. When he got to the top of my thighs, he slipped his finger inside of me, and I shivered from the touch. He continued drying me, placing a kiss on each bruise he came to until I was dry.

  He scooped me up into his arms and went to the bed and sat me on the edge. He pushed open my thighs with his hands and went down on his knees. When his tongue licked the inside of my thigh, I began to pant. He worked his way up until his tongue ran across my clit and then all the way back, flicking along the sensitive areas as he went.

  I watched him, my hands in his hair. He lifted his eyes to look up at me as his finger went inside me. I bit down on my bottom lip and rocked my hips against his hand.

  “Ah, yes,” I panted, wanting more.

  Blaise stood up and discarded his shirt, then removed his jeans and briefs quickly. I started to scoot back on the bed, and he grabbed my leg and shook his head. Then, he flipped me over so that my bottom was sticking up on the edge of the bed. His hand began to caress each cheek. A soft slap to the right side made me jump, and then he ran his hand over it before pressing a kiss to the spot.

  I arched, wanting more, and he slapped the other side. My clit began to throb with arousal. I shook it back and forth, looking back at him over my shoulder.

  His eyes went from my butt to my face. “You like me spanking you?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” I begged, drawing out the last word.

  His eyes flared, and he gave me a harder slap. I cried out and wiggled some more. He gave the other side a firm hit. The pulse between my legs was surprising me.

  “Please, sir,” I begged, and he growled before slapping my right cheek, then left cheek.

  I was close to an orgasm, and I snatched fistfuls of the sheets, begging him for more.

  His hands grabbed my hips then, and I felt his erection slide behind me until it was pushing inside me. When he was completely in me, it was deeper than he’d ever been. I felt slightly crazed, needing to feel that release.

  “FUUUUCK!” he roared as he slapped at my right cheek. He began to pull back, then slammed back into me. “GAH! I needed this pussy,” he shouted.

  My clit was swollen, and I knew if I reached between my legs and touched it, I’d shatter into the pleasure I was climbing to. But I wanted more. I didn’t want it to end.

  I looked back over my shoulder at Blaise. His arms were flexed, veins and muscles standing out on them. His heated gaze was on my butt, but it lifted to meet mine.

  “Spank me, sir,” I panted.

  The muscles in his neck flexed, and he slapped my right side hard. “My ass,” he growled. “When you’re better, I’m gonna take that ass. Fuck it like I fuck this pussy,” he told me.

  The heat in his gaze excited me. I felt it as the wave of my orgasm broke free, and I cried out his name, pushing back on him. He started to pull away, and I was still there. Riding it. I wasn’t done yet.

  “Fuck me! Harder!” I begged. “Harder! Fuck me!”

  His grip on my hips tightened, and he began to growl as he pumped into me harder. “Fuck!” he panted out. “God, baby!”

  I was trembling from the pleasure when another orgasm broke free, and I screamed his name. Clawing at the sheets.

  His pumping got faster, and I pushed back on him, meeting each thrust.

  “FUUUUCK! I’m gonna come!” he roared.

  I knew he needed to pull out, but I was out of control, rocking back on him.

  “AAAAAHHHHHH!” he shouted out as his body jerked against mine, his cock hitting inside of me as he released with each thrust.

  I shook as I felt the warmth inside me.

  When he pulled out of me, I collapsed on the bed, gasping for air.

  He lay down beside me and pulled me against his chest. His hand slid down my stomach and between my thighs. I jumped when he touched me. It was still too sensitive. He ran his finger inside of me, then pulled it out and began to run it along my thighs.

  I didn’t think I could get aroused again so soon after that, but it was happening.

  “You need to go get this out of you,” he said in a husky whisper near my ear. “But I fucking want to feel it on your skin, coming out of your pussy. Knowing that I’ve filled you.”

  He ran his fingers around my clit, and I gasped. It felt too good. My eyes closed, and I enjoyed the heat seeping out of me as he began to rub it around.

  “My pussy,” he said hoarsely. “Soaking wet with my cum leaking out.”

  His words, mixed with the way he was touching me, had me rocking against his hand.

  “This is dangerous,” he said. “So fucking dangerous. We need to get you on birth control.”

  Yet, as he said it, he didn’t stop touching me. My thighs were wet with it, and I began to moan as the build got stronger.

  “Baby, I can’t stop this if you don’t make me,” he warned. “Stop rocking.”

  I tried, but I couldn’t. “Feels so good,” I whispered.

  “Fuck,” he growled and pushed me on my back before sliding inside of me again. “You make me fucking insane.”

  I whimpered, lifting my hips, knowing this was bad, but unable to care about anything more.

  “Holy fucking hell,” he swore and held open my legs to look down at where he moved in and out of me. “Shit,” he breathed.

  I held on to the covers until I was once again crying out his name and lifting my hips to meet each thrust.

  When he came, he pulled out this time and shot his release on my stomach and breasts. He stayed there, looking down at me. His eyes taking in my body. “Mine,” he said.

  And I knew that I was. Completely.

  Thirty-Four

  It was three days later when we came up for breakfast to find Gage, Huck, Levi, and Garrett sitting at the table, eating, and I knew it was time I got my answers. Garrett had never been here. Seeing his father, who he seemed to hate, here was shocking.

  “Madeline,” Garrett said in greeting. “You look healthy. I’m glad you are healing well.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, then glanced up at Blaise.

  He pressed a kiss to my head and nodded toward the table. “Let’s go ahead and talk. Gina will bring us a plate.”

  I looked over at Gina, who was by the stove. I didn’t want her serving me. She winked at me and nodded her head toward the table.

  Walking over to sit down, I waited for Blaise to pull out my chair simply because I wasn’t sure where to sit. Once he did and took the seat next to me, I felt relief. I was going to know it all now. No more questions.

  Garrett leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “As you’ve figured out, there is a lot you don’t know.”

  I nodded.

  “Your grandfather was a man named Eli Marks. He was one of the best men I have ever known. He was my father’s best friend and closest confidant. When my father was killed, I was ten years old, and it was Eli who took over raising me and preparing me for the role I would one day hold. Eli held that role in my place until I turned twenty-one.

  “Eli’s daughter, Etta, was like a little sister to me. She was nine years younger than me and was only with him on the weekends. She lived with her mother most of the time. However, when she was sixteen, her mother was killed in a car accident. Etta came to live with Eli, and that was the first time she truly saw the family and its workings.”

  He paused, cleared his throat, took a drink of coffee, and I waited, holding my breath. He was telling me about not only my mother, but also my grandfather. I’d never had a name for anyone, except my immediate family.

  “The family can be referred to as many things. Some call it the mob, others the Mafia. We just call it the family because that is what it is. Not all are blood, but once they are family, that is the only thing that matters. Blood can’t always be trusted. The family can.

  “Now, Etta knew because her mother, Yvonne, had told her just enough so she understood things. Yvonne hadn’t wanted to be a part of the family, and she gave Eli a choice. It was her or the family. He chose the family. Your mother’s birth wasn’t something he knew about at first, but once he did, she was protected. He demanded a relationship with her.

  “Etta loved Eli, and she enjoyed being with the horses. The track was her favorite place to be. She accepted this life and lived it to the fullest. Until she met a boy at one of the races, who she fell in love with. She kept it hidden for a while, but eventually, Eli found out about him. Being who we are, he checked things out, and the boy, Liam, was the son of a group that we do not associate with. Their form of organization and ours are not the same. They have no standards. No guidelines.” He stopped then and took another drink of coffee.

  Blaise’s hand found mine under the table and squeezed it gently. I needed that. I knew more was coming, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. I hadn’t known this was going to be my family history. The one I never thought I’d truly know.

  “When Eli told Etta what he’d found out and that Liam had singled her out on purpose because of who she was, she was devastated. She was also pregnant. With you. I had taken over as the boss at this point. Eli thought she wanted to abort it, but he struggled with that option. Etta didn’t want an abortion, but she never talked to me or Eli about her decision.

  “One day, she was just gone. Of course, I sent out the best, and we found her. Etta, however, knew us. She knew how we worked. She got better at running. Until, one day, we couldn’t find her. It took years.

  “Eli died, not knowing where she was, where you were. If either of you was alive. I’d sworn to him I’d find you both. He had a heart attack and never recovered fully. He never made it home from the hospital. With his last breath, he had made me promise that when I found you, I would keep Etta’s wishes. Let you live your life but protect you.”

  My dad wasn’t my father. That news kept reeling through my head. Over and over. Cole wasn’t my brother. No. I didn’t believe that. They had been my family. All I’d known.

  “How do you know I’m that baby? I had an older brother, Cole,” I said, thinking that made more sense.

  “It was Blaise who found you. Living in Texas with a man you believed was your father and a brother. We sent someone into the apartment you lived in to take hair from your brush and test your DNA. It was a match. You are also an exact replica of Etta. I have pictures, when you want to see them,” he said, looking at me pointedly.

  “Blaise was nineteen when he got the lead that sent him to you. Eli was like a grandfather to him. He adored the man and was determined to find Etta and you. What Blaise found instead was that Etta had been gone for sixteen years, which was why finding her had been so difficult.

  “Luke Reese had lost his first wife and was raising his son alone. We know that he met Etta at a bar, where she was waitressing. They married, she became the mother of his son, and he became your father. The death of your mother, however, placed him with two kids to take care of. He was a weak man and eventually turned to a few addictions, as you know. You were the one who kept them fed, cleaned the house, made sure they made it home at night. What Blaise found infuriated him, and he was ready to charge in and take you out of that life. But I steered him away from that. You appeared to love Luke and Cole. I agreed that Blaise could keep an eye on things and check in to make sure you were safe. He did for six years. The time you were living in a shelter and the man appeared giving your dad a job wasn’t luck. It was on Blaise’s order. When food arrived at your apartment with no explanation, that again was Blaise making sure you were fed.” He paused and looked at Blaise. “So, it wasn’t until you were left alone that we sent Melanie, your mother’s closest friend, to come get you.”

  Garrett stood up then. “The rest of the story is Blaise’s to tell.” He turned and picked up his cowboy hat and put it back on his head. “Thanks for breakfast, Gina. Delicious, as always, my dear.”

  “You’re welcome,” she replied.

  “I’ll leave you to the rest,” Garrett said, then turned and walked out of the house.

  I sat back in my seat. I realized food had been set in front of me at some point, but I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t want to eat. I had to digest this. I needed the rest of the story. I turned to look at Blaise.

  “You watched me for six years?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “Yes, I did.”

  I was confused. He had looked for me, found me, and watched over me, so why had he treated me the way he did when I came here?

  I shook my head. “I am not understanding things. When I came here, you hated me,” I said.