The Summer He Came Home Part 3

It was a good thing that her lack of funds bothered her much more than it did her son.

After she vacuumed, Maggie headed downstairs and attacked the kitchen with vigor. Michael settled in to watch TV in the family room, and they chatted during the commercial breaks.

It was nearly three thirty when she finished, and Maggie was hoping they'd be able to catch the four o'clock bus. They had a good fifteen-minute walk to the bus stop, since it didn't come as far as Lauren's house, so they'd have to get cracking. She pocketed the envelope left for her and hung the damp rag over the gooseneck faucet to dry.

She turned and spied the blue towels sitting near the bas.e.m.e.nt steps. "Michael, I'll be right back. I'm just going to run something downstairs."

Maggie scooped up the towels and headed down. It was dark and cool. She s.h.i.+vered as the air rushed along her damp skin. The bas.e.m.e.nt was a huge open s.p.a.ce with a pool table and bar located at the far end and a sitting area to her left that featured the largest flat-screen television she'd ever seen.

Lauren had once confessed she never watched the d.a.m.n thing and only kept it because it had belonged to her deceased husband.

Maggie smiled wryly. Typical. What was it with men and the size of their toys?

She hurried ahead toward the last door on the right, which led to a small office with an adjoining bath. The handle turned beneath her fingers, and she stepped inside. There were no windows in this particular room, so it was pitch-dark. She bit her lip and squinted. Usually a night-light illuminated the room.

c.r.a.p. Where was the light switch?

Her fingers crept along the wall to the right but came away empty. Maggie didn't clean the room often, because it didn't get used unless Lauren was entertaining, but she knew the bathroom was to her left.

She stepped forward, and her foot landed among a tangle of something on the floor. Shoes, maybe? She tried to balance, but her other foot got caught as well. A curse slid from her lips as she fell, and her hands reached blindly for anything to grab hold of. But there was nothing, and she cried out, twirled crazily, and went down hard, a loud crack echoing inside her head as her skull glanced off something sharp and unyielding.

She rolled to the side and took a second to get her bearings. Her eyes blinked rapidly, and her lungs grabbed for the air that had been knocked from her chest as she hit the floor. Maggie groaned. Pain splintered along her head, and her fingers touched the tender spot near her temple. She felt something wet and knew it was blood.

Dammit. She'd smacked her head against the desk. She pushed herself up and winced, her head swimming dizzily. Blood flowed freely now-she felt it trickle down her cheek-and a stab of fear shot through her gut. What if it was a serious injury? She was here, alone.

Michael.

Light cut through the dark suddenly, and she squeezed her eyes shut at the brightness, her hand cradling her head. "Oh G.o.d," she groaned, exhaling in an effort to focus.

"What the h.e.l.l?" The voice was male, deep, and raspy.

Once the world stopped spinning, Maggie's eyes opened. She saw legs-masculine legs. They were spread slightly, and her eyes moved up to muscular thighs, a pair of plain black boxers that left nothing to the imagination, and abs that would make an athlete envious. She winced once more as pain shot along her skull and she angled her head to stare up into Cain Black's dark eyes.

His hair was mussed as if he'd just woken, and his jaw was shadowed with more than a day's worth of stubble.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing in here?" He was angry.

Unease uncoiled inside her, and she broke out in a sweat when he kneeled down. s.h.i.+t, she didn't know anything about the man. Didn't know what he was capable of, other than the fact he looked d.a.m.n good half-naked.

Oh G.o.d, she must have hit her head hard to be thinking such thoughts.

"Christ, you're bleeding."

She wanted him to move away, to give her some s.p.a.ce and room to breathe. He was too close. Her thoughts were fuzzy, and she needed to think.

Michael. Suddenly her anxiety surfaced and her stomach churned crazily. Where was her child?

His hand reached for her and she flinched. "Don't touch me." Her words were hoa.r.s.e, and she hated that she couldn't hide her fear.

Cain was silent for a few seconds, then rose. "You're hurt and need to see a doctor." His voice was softer now.

"No!" She was now on her knees. "I'm fine, I just..." Her voice trailed away and she clenched her teeth in an effort to combat the dizziness. There was blood everywhere, it seemed. On her T-s.h.i.+rt, her fingers...the carpet. Oh G.o.d, what would Lauren say?

"Mom?" Michael's voice cut through the haze inside her head. "Mom! Are you all right?"

"She's okay, buddy. It looks a lot worse than it is. Head wounds always bleed like a son of a...like crazy. But we're going to take her to the hospital just to make sure, all right? You think you can help?"

"Sure."

"Do you know where your mom left the keys to my truck?"

The boy nodded. "I think she left them on the counter in the kitchen."

"Good. Grab them and unlock it. Leave the pa.s.senger door open, okay?"

"Okay." Michael ran from the room.

Maggie heard the sound of a zipper. When she chanced a look, she was happy to see him dressed in jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt. He knelt in front of her. In his hand was a towel, which she accepted and held against her head.

"Let me help you up."

She couldn't go to the hospital. She had no insurance. Panic set in at the thought, and she tried to clamp down on it, but it was no use. How could she? A trip to the emergency room would wipe out her savings, because she sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't apply for Medicaid. That meant paperwork, and that left a trail.

"I'm fine, Mr. Black. Please give me some room."

"You're not fine. Ten to one, you have a concussion. At the very least, you'll probably need st.i.tches."

He was right. Maggie gritted her teeth.

"And the name's Cain. Mr. Black really isn't me."

He offered his hand and reluctantly she used it. Once she was on her feet, the world tumbled again and her stomach rolled over. A groan escaped, and helpless tears threatened.

"Just give me a second."

His arms slid along her shoulders and under her arms, and he lifted her before she could protest. Cain filled the s.p.a.ce around her-his hard, muscled body, the chocolate eyes that stared at her intently, and the solemn tilt of his mouth.

He held her close. Every inch of her was pressed intimately against his flesh as he lifted her into his arms.

"Please, I'd rather go home."

Cain ignored her, took the stairs two at a time as if she weighed no more than a child, and headed outside to his truck. His voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke, tickling her cheek. "Lady, I'm not giving you a choice."

The sun was still hot, bright, and it hurt her eyes. Maggie closed them and finally relaxed her limbs when he placed her in the pa.s.senger side of the SUV.

She rested her head against the soft leather and held the towel he'd given her against her head.

Cain slid in beside her, and the truck roared to life. "Seat belt on, buddy?"

"Yup," Michael answered from the backseat.

Maggie gritted her teeth as a wave of dizziness rolled through her head.

Guess the ice cream cone was going to have to wait.

Chapter 4.

Cain kept up a light chatter with the boy in the back even as he drove like a maniac through the streets of Crystal Lake. The hospital was at the north end, and he thanked all that was holy the town hadn't changed much over the past ten years.

New construction was evident around the lake, and a small subdivision had sprung up near the one mall on the outskirts of town, but for the most part, it was old-school. The town had been founded in the 1800s, during the lumber boom, and was full of stately century-old homes, American pride, and a population that was tight-knit.

He knew exactly where he was going. Lord knows, as teens, he and the boys had visited the emergency room on numerous occasions. Mackenzie Draper had held the record for hardest head. h.e.l.l, he'd taken more hits to his cranium and had had more concussions than anyone else on the football team. It was a miracle the man had escaped brain damage.

And that didn't include any of the injuries his father had inflicted.

He glanced at Maggie. Her eyes were closed, her skin pale except for the blood smudged along her cheek. It was already congealing. At least he could be thankful for that.

Guilt washed through him. Christ, if he'd just crashed in one of the guest rooms upstairs instead of hiding in the bas.e.m.e.nt like a hermit, none of this would have happened.

Except he'd gone nearly forty-eight hours without sleep, had been half-drunk and jet-lagged, and had wanted nothing but complete silence and darkness.

His fingers gripped the steering wheel as he turned off Main Street onto Oak. They were nearly there, maybe two minutes out.

He glanced at Maggie once more. It bothered him...the look in her eyes when he'd knelt down to help her. She'd looked scared, and that made him feel even more like an a.s.shole. He wasn't used to getting looks like that from women.

They barreled toward the emergency doors, and the SUV skidded to a stop in the no parking zone. Cain hopped out and yanked the pa.s.senger door open.

"Let's go." He reached for Maggie, but she hunched her shoulders and shook her head, her features pinched.

"I'll be fine. Thanks for the ride." Maggie slid from the truck, and Cain stood back as she took a couple of steps.

His temper flared, but he kept quiet and stood to the side.

"I got ya, Mom." Michael smiled up at his mother.

Cain watched the way they moved together-their steps in sync like a perfect harmony. There was no doubt the two of them belonged to each other. Michael tucked his hand into hers, and Maggie tousled his hair and kissed the top of his head as they walked away.

He didn't have that connection.

Family wasn't something he'd considered before-at least not one of his own. Natasha had brought up the subject once, but he'd shot her down cold. Even then he'd known she wasn't the one he'd raise kids with. h.e.l.l, he wasn't sure he wanted a family at all. It took a special sort to be a parent. His mother was an ace, but his father? Major fail. The man had left two days before his fifth birthday, and neither he nor his mother had seen him again.

Gerald Black was a sperm donor-nothing more-and truthfully, for all he knew, the man was dead.

His eyes remained glued to Maggie's slight form.

As far as he could tell, she was on her own, but the love of her son seemed to be enough. He thought of what his mother had said the night before and scowled. Who the h.e.l.l did he have? Christ, he didn't even own a dog.

He thought of Jesse and his widow, Raine. If Cain died tomorrow, who besides his mother would mourn his pa.s.sing? Really mourn him?

h.e.l.l, his record label wouldn't bat an eye. If his a.s.s ended up on a slab in the morgue, he'd make them a fortune. Dead rockers sold millions.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h! I heard you were back in town."

Cain turned toward a tall paramedic who'd just walked out of the emergency room entrance. The man had some paunch around his midsection, his light brown hair was thinning, and for a second, Cain couldn't place him. The paramedic smiled a wide toothy grin, and it came back in a flash.

He shook the hand that Luke Jansen offered. They'd played football together, and he'd been a member of the team Cain led to a state champions.h.i.+p their last year of high school.

"Hey, sorry to hear about Jesse Edwards. I know you guys were tight." Luke paused and looked around. "What are you doing here? Is your mom all right?"

Cain nodded toward the doors. "She's good. I brought a woman in who does some work for my mother, Maggie...possible concussion." She'd disappeared inside, and Cain took a step forward. "I really should go and check on her."

Luke's eyes widened. "Maggie...Maggie O'Rourke?"

At Cain's nod, Luke held up his hand. "Hold on." Luke shouted to the other paramedic who stood several feet away, near their ambulance. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Dave."

Cain was silent for a moment. There was interest in the other man's eyes, and for some reason he didn't like it. "She was at my mother's place and had an accident." He paused. "How do you know her?"

Luke walked alongside him, and they entered the emergency room together. "She rents the bungalow beside my house. Moved in about a year ago. I try to look out for her, you know...cut her gra.s.s and stuff when I can."

"She got family close by?" Cain was curious.

Luke shrugged. "Not that I'm aware of. I've never seen anyone visit other than your mom a few times, and Raine Edwards. I've asked her out, but she shot me down cold. I don't think she's interested in anything other than her kid."

"His name's Michael."

"What?" Luke looked confused.

"The kid. His name is Michael."

"Yeah, that's it...Mike." They stopped just in front of reception. "There she is." Luke pointed to the waiting area. Both men crossed over, and when Maggie looked up, Cain noticed her hand was trembling. She was flushed, her cheeks rosy, and sweat beaded along the top of her lip.

"Hey, Maggie, I'm going to make sure you get in to see the doctor right away, okay?" Luke turned. "I'll be right back."

She held a clipboard, a pen between her fingers. Blood was smeared near her temple where she'd wiped it. Michael's face was pale and he looked worried.

Cain winked at the boy and sat beside her. "Do you want some help with that?" He pointed to the forms she held.

"I...no, I can do it. I just...my eyes hurt. The lights are bright in here."

Cain reached for the clipboard and gently tugged it from her grip. "Let me help. I feel like a total a.s.s as it is. If I hadn't left my c.r.a.p on the floor, you never would have fallen." He knew that Maggie most likely had no insurance. The least he could do was pay for her visit.