“How do you know that, Beck?”
Dark eyes glittered as he sent her a mocking tip of his head. “If you’re never going to call me Sir, that’s Dr. Beck to you.”
Doctor…? “Surely not as in M.D.?”
He nodded, smiling as if he was really enjoying her surprise. “Dr. Kenneth Beckman, board certified vascular surgeon, at your service. I know exactly what’s happening with your veins right now, princess. Trust me. I didn’t really hurt you.”
Holy shit. Shock was an understatement. Beck the Sadist was actually Dr. Kenny, who healed people’s circulatory systems for a living? Raine blinked at him. Blinked again. She’d always known he was smart. In his late thirties, she supposed he was old enough to have achieved that level of education and experience. But hearing that the Jack-swigging, leather-clad sadist swaggering through these halls and melting the panties of every pain slut had a medical degree and practice just didn’t compute for her.
“Keep a lid on this, will you, princess? Don’t want the vanillas freaking out that their doctor enjoys inflicting pain. Hammer knows, too, in case you’re wondering. But he’s one of the few. He picked me to administer your punishment because he knew I’d scare the hell out of you and because if anything went wrong, there was a doctor in the house.”
So Hammer had been looking out for her…in his way. And she hadn’t trusted that he’d been looking past his anger enough to care for her. He always had, and her lack of trust now shamed her a bit.
“Thanks.” She lost her starch. “I needed to hear that.”
Beck shrugged a pair of massive shoulders. “You also need to hear why I threatened to hit you again.”
“You’re a sadist. Duh!”
That made him laugh outright. “Besides that. After the first blow, I knew you were never going to come over to my dark side. But I wanted to do a little test.”
Fury needled her. “To see how much of your shit I could take?”
“Low opinion of me much?” he drawled. “No, Hammer’s told me a little bit about your background. Remember when he took you to a rash of doctors shortly after you arrived?”
Yes. Lord, there had been a dozen. An internist, a dentist, a gynecologist, a plastic surgeon to repair some scarring her father had left behind. Even a shrink. Now that she thought about it, Beck had been lurking in the background a lot then. “You referred them?”
“Every one. From that, I know you’re not like the others. The pain sluts I see…” He shrugged. “Most haven’t had to endure what you have. They come to me for the release pain gives them. But yours was non-consensual. I’ve guessed that pain isn’t going to free you, just make you determined not to cow down to anyone again.”
Beck might as well have read her mind. “Exactly.”
“You’re a survivor, standing here so goddamn vibrant that you draw everyone to you. I’ve known Hammer for a long time. He needs you. I threatened to hit you again to see if he’d rescue you and finally fuck you, like he’s dying to.”
“He’s not.” Beck might be shocked to know how diligently she’d pursued that path, only to be rebuffed…
“Yeah, he is. Everyone else is a way to pass the time. You, he takes care of. He watches over. He guides. He loves. Don’t let him bullshit you into believing different. But I honestly didn’t see Liam O’Neill coming. That man has a serious hard-on for you.”
Yes. She’d been feeling it most of the night. Raine flushed.
“I wanted to see if Hammer would save you from me.” He grinned. “But I think it will be much more fun to see if he fights Liam for you instead.”
Raine opened her mouth to shoot off a snappy reply, but a yell interrupted her. Angry. Wounded. Unmistakably Hammer’s. Another heavy thunk of something wooden hitting the floor followed.
“Why don’t you go see what he’s up to, princess?” Beck suggested. “He sure as hell doesn’t want to see me.”
She didn’t bother answering him, but turned and jogged into the hall, heading for the stairs. Was Beck suggesting that Hammer needed her help?
Darting up, Raine ran as fast as she could to reach him, before he woke everyone up or did something reckless, like put his fist through a window.
Then she skidded into the bar and saw a shirtless Hammer lift a solid wooden barstool over his head. The muscles of his back and arms bunched and flexed as he hurled it against the wall with a mighty growl. It landed with a loud thump, then crashed to the floor. He cursed again, something really ugly that made her flinch. What the hell was wrong with him?
She was still puzzling out the answer when he zipped behind the bar and grabbed a bottle in his fist. He unscrewed the cap, then pitched the little plastic disc across the room with so much rage, Raine stared wide eyed.