"Yeah, I bet you do, being the oldest."
"But go on, please. It's your story."
"Kevin managed to get messages to me, begging to try again to escape. He—" She gulped. "He was going to end his own life if he couldn't get out."
"No," he whispered.
"So I couldn't fail. We planned. We waited. He endured more beatings. I had to meet with my future 'husband' and sit there while he touched me. Inspecting. Even with clothes on, it was disgusting."
Vaughn's hands tightened on her upper arms as a growl came from his throat. The cocoon sensation intensified, along with her headache. Her shiver certainly had nothing to do with the cold.
"A few nights before my so-called blessed union, I picked a lock on the window and escaped. Kevin and I crawled out again and got through the fenced perimeter. This time, we made it to Salt Lake City and found an aunt and uncle who took us in."
"And then you became a doctor?"
"Eventually. And Kevin made sure no one could ever beat him up again. He's into MMA. The guy is terrifying in the ring."
"What weight class?"
"Bantamweight. Why, are you a fan?"
"Well, yes. Again, not my story. Please continue."
"The rest is history. Here I am in Copper River, paying off my loans by working in an underserved area. Kevin's in Salt Lake City working at Starbucks to support his MMA habit." She smiled into his chest and inhaled his warm scent, as heady as mulled cider, and served with a hug. "And I help him out with the finances a little bit, too. He needs something in his life to be proud of."
"He's proud of you."
"Sure." She shook her head. "But I meant personally proud. Something he can call his own. Something he's created. I'm just the nagging older sister."
"Never." He rubbed his thumb over her upper arm, sending a welcome tingle down to her fingertips. "Are you two close?"
"Talk at least every week, usually much more." The remainder of her tight fear uncoiled and released, like a terrified animal finally brave enough to walk out of its hiding spot.
"He sounds like a good guy."
"He's great. For a little brother, that is."
"I know how about that sentiment." His rolling chuckle rumbled into her chest. "You still want to keep him safe? Even now?"
She rested her cheek against his torso. "Of course. Who wouldn't, after all of the junk we dealt with?"
"Good point."
Another few minutes went by until she leaned away. "So, I should probably do something about what happened back there."
"What do you mean?"
"The part where we were threatened with guys with guns."
He snorted.
She studied the shadows of his hard face. "What?"
"I'm not laughing at you. It's just... yes. You are correct, we should at least fill out a police report."
"But?"
"But it's not going to help. They'll just say they were defending their property against trespassers. And once they learned who we were, those guys did put down the rifles. Besides, Tommy Brand, who was the guy with the messed-up eyebrow standing in front of the truck with a gun? Yeah, he's the sheriff."
