Stranded with My Stepbrother Chapter 152

Will

The first thing I realized when I woke up was that McKenzie was not beside me.

This was not acceptable.

I touched her side of the bed, which still had an indent from her body, hoping it might manifest her. But no, she was gone.

My head throbbing with a horrible headache, I sat up. I didn’t bother calling her name. I knew in my bones she wasn’t in the bathroom or the closet. I could feel her absence as though my heart had been torn from my body.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, bracing myself on the bedside dresser as I stood and fought a wave of dizziness. Whatever Marvin—or, rather, Bran—had given me had some nasty side-effects. I wanted to throw up.

But I wasn’t willing to sit in the bathroom with my head in the toilet while McKenzie was God only knew where.

I weaved my way to the door and tried the handle again. It was locked. No surprise there. I balled up my fist and banged hard on it. “MARVIN!!!” I bellowed.

The door unlocked, and Bran’s loyal minion stood in the doorway. “Mr. Masterson, how can I hel—?”

I punched him in the face. I was beyond finished with Bran’s games, Bran’s house, Bran’s minions… anything to do with Bran.

Marvin cried out in surprise, holding his eye. I grabbed him by the starched shirt front and drew him close so we were nose-to-nose. “Now, you listen to me. If you don’t want your jaw wired shut at the ER, I suggest you tell me where McKenzie is. Right now!”

“B-But, sir, I have orders—” he jibbered.

I pulled my fist back and took aim.

He wasn’t as stupid as I thought. Pointing down the hall, he said, “The guesthouse. They’re in the guesthouse.”

They? My blood ran cold. I shoved Marvin in front of me, keeping a hand on his shoulder in case he tried to escape. “Show me.”

He nodded vigorously and quickly guided me through the mansion out to a paved walk that led to the guesthouse.

I forced him to take me all the way to the front door. There was no way I was going to be defeated by another lock. “Open it,” I ordered him.

Marvin pressed in a code with shaking fingers.

The keypad turned red and made an angry sound.

“Sorry, I must have put it in wrong,” he said, the look in his eyes telling me he’d done it on purpose.

Red rage struck me like a bolt of lightning. I grabbed the back of his head and slammed his nose into the door.

There was a loud crunch, and he squealed.

“Now, I’m hoping I don’t have to ask you again,” I whispered dangerously in his ear.

“No, sir. Sorry, sir,” he groaned and began punching in the numbers again.

A loud scream echoed from inside the house.

Marvin stopped typing, his jaw dropping in surprise.

I tightened my fingers in his hair. “Don’t just fucking stand there, open the goddamn door!”

“Yes, sir!” He typed frantically, and the keypad finally turned green, and the door unlocked.

I shoved him aside and yanked the door open, panic making it hard to breathe at the same time it spurred me on. “McKenzie?!” I yelled, glancing around frantically.

“Will!”

My gaze snapped to the kitchen where McKenzie was sitting on the floor, bruised. Clearly, she’d been beaten.

Bran Lockwood the Fifth was a dead man.

I ran to her side, gathering her carefully in my arms. “Where’s Bran?” I asked, trying not to sound harsh.

“I-I don’t know. I stabbed him, and he ran away,” she hiccupped. “He… he hurt me. He wanted to r-rape me. I fought him, but he was so much stronger. He kept hitting me.”

“Oh, honeybee.” The part of me that was boiling over with anger wanted to go find Bran and tear his dick off, wherever his cowardly ass was hiding. But I couldn’t leave McKenzie alone.

“He didn’t, though. He didn’t rape me.” She sounded particularly proud of that fact.

“He hurt you. That’s what matters to me.” I kissed her hair. “We’re going to take you to the hospital to get you looked at, okay? It looks like he hit you in the head a few times, and I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

McKenzie clung to me, pressing herself against my bare chest, her arms around my neck. “How do we get out of here? He still has our car.” Her breath hitched. “I just want to go home.”

“I know, honeybee. I know.” I carefully pulled her into my lap.

Marvin was hovering, and I speared him with a cold gaze. “Get our fucking car.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, looking at McKenzie and deflating. “I didn’t know things would go this far, sir. I do apologize.”

“The. Car.” I gently peeled her off me so I could stand and scoop her up in my arms.

I didn’t like the way she groaned.

“Dizzy?” I asked worriedly, my own dizziness kept at bay by sheer adrenaline.

She nodded, then groaned again. “Maybe nodding wasn’t a good plan,” she said.

Marvin scampered off, and I carried her out of the guesthouse, following the path to the front of the mansion where, blessedly, the McLaren was waiting.

“Where is Bran?” I asked Marvin as he handed me the keys.

“I don’t know, sir. And that’s the honest truth. I didn’t see him on the way to the garage,” he said.

I set McKenzie carefully in the passenger seat. “When you do see him, tell him I said his days are numbered.” I went to the driver’s side and got in.

“Are you sure you should be driving, sir? The sedative in your tea was very powerful,” Marvin fretted.

“I don’t trust anyone else here to drive us. Not even you,” I said. Then I threw the car in gear and headed down the drive.

Marvin had the good sense to make sure the gate was open, and I barreled through it, not wanting to risk being caught in that hellhole one more minute.

“Do you think he’s dead?” McKenzie asked softly.

“Bran? I sure as hell hope so,” I replied, navigating around Lake Minnetonka to get us to the nearest ER.

“It was just a paring knife,” she mumbled. “I’m not sure I got him good enough to kill him.”

“Then I’ll finish the job later,” I promised darkly.

She didn’t answer. I glanced over to see she’d passed out.

“Shit!” Keeping one eye on the road, I gave her a shake. “Honeybee, you can’t go to sleep yet. We have to see the doctor first.”

McKenzie didn’t respond.

Panic set in, and I floored it, almost hoping we’d get pulled over. However, no police showed up between Lake Minnetonka and the ER at North Memorial Hospital.

I screeched to a stop at the ER doors and leapt out of the car.

A rather annoyed woman in scrubs came striding out. “Sir, you can’t park here—”

“My fiancée was beaten, and now she’s passed out and won’t wake up,” I said frantically. “You have to get her help!”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me you beat your fiancée unconscious, sir?”

“No—fuck, woman, does that really matter right now?! She needs help!” I shouted.

“I see. Please stand aside. I will assess her and see if she needs immediate help. We’re rather full up today.” The woman pushed me aside while I stared openmouthed at her.

She took McKenzie’s pulse then took out a penlight and flashed it in her eyes.

Meanwhile, I tried very hard to stop myself from making a scene.

“I believe she has a concussion. I’ll call for a gurney, and we’ll get her into a CT scan right away. Unfortunately, you can’t accompany her, sir. You will need to speak with the police first,” the woman said firmly.

“Fine. Here’s the keys to my car. Move it if you want. I’m not running away,” I responded, dropping the keys into her palm.

She nodded, and, when the gurney arrived, so did security. She gave my keys to one of the guards then had a murmured conversation with him while four people in scrubs gingerly moved McKenzie to the gurney and began wheeling her away.

I watched her go, feeling as though I was being ripped in two. But I didn’t want anything getting in the way of her being treated. Especially not some futile tantrum on my part.

“Sir? Please come with us. The police should be here shortly,” a security guard said, firmly taking my arm.

While another security guard drove my car away, I turned to the one who had me by the arm. “I’m going to need a drug test,” I informed him.

He frowned at me. “You think being high is going to save you from being charged with assault?”

I took a deep breath and mentally counted backward from fifty. “No. I was knocked out so I couldn’t stop someone else from assaulting my fiancée. I’m still not a hundred percent, and I want to be when McKenzie wakes up. I might need medicine.”

“You… were knocked out so another man could assault your fiancée?” the guard repeated.

“Yes. That’s what happened.” I walked with him to a small office where he sat me down at a table.

“The police will be here soon, but I’ll call someone up from the lab for a tox screen,” the security guard said, sounding dubious.

Even though he doubted my story, I was glad he was at least doing what I asked. “Thank you.”

He nodded and spoke into his walkie-talkie, summoning a young lady in a white coat to come take my blood. When she left, the police arrived.

“Mr. Masterson,” they said without even asking for ID. “We had a call from Mr. Ike Freeborn. Apparently, you and Mr. Bran Lockwood had an altercation?”

So that’s how they’re going to spin it. “If I say yes, does that mean McKenzie Kent is absolved of any wrongdoing?”

The officer blinked at me. “Mr. Freeborn told us there had been a drunken misunderst—”

“He misunderstood that his fist did not belong in my fiancée’s face,” I said angrily. “That’s the only ‘misunderstanding’ there was.”

“Is that why you stabbed him?” the officer asked.

“Like I said, if I say yes, does that get McKenzie Kent off the hook?” I replied.

“Are you… trying to tell me that Miss Kent stabbed Mr. Lockwood after he assaulted her?” the officer said shrewdly.

I nodded. “But if she’s going to get into any sort of trouble for it, I will swear under oath that I did it.”

“That’s… not really something you’re supposed to do, Mr. Masterson. That’s called perjury.” The officer who was speaking to me sat down across from me while the other silently guarded the door. “So, what I’m hearing is that Miss Kent stabbed Mr. Lockwood in self-defense.”

“Yes.” I folded my hands on top of the table. “But, as I said before….”

“You’ll swear under oath that you did it if it will help Miss Kent avoid any consequences,” the officer said. “Yes, I understand. Where were you when the altercation happened?”

I scowled at the table. “I was drugged.”

“You were drugged?” he echoed. “How do you know you were drugged?”

“I passed out, and I hadn’t had anything to drink but tea with a sedative in it, or so Mr. Lockwood’s lackey told me,” I said. “But I just had my blood taken for a tox screen, so I suppose we’ll both find out what they gave me.”

He turned to the other officer. “Make sure they put a rush on that, Edwards.”

Edwards poked his head outside the door and spoke with security.

“I’ll have to question Miss Kent. Where is she?” the officer asked.

“Mr. Lockwood beat her unconscious. I don’t know where she is right now. They won’t let me see her until I’ve resolved matters with you,” I said.

“That’s just a precaution, sir. We don’t know that it wasn’t you who beat her. Yet.” He sounded sympathetic. “I know this must be torture. I’m sorry.”

I raked a hand through my hair. “I honestly don’t care what you need to do as long as I’m there when she wakes up. I don’t want her to be alone.”

“We… really do need to question her before you can see her,” he apologized.

“No matter what my tox screen says?” I sighed.

“No matter what your tox screen says,” he confirmed.

I groaned and rubbed my hands over my face. “This is a nightmare.”

“I’ll personally ensure that Miss Kent does not wake up alone. And that you can be reunited with her just as soon as we get her side of the story,” he said. “Don’t worry about—”

The door opened, and a woman with a stride and confidence that told me she was a doctor walked in. “Officer Pence. I was just given the results of Mr. Masterson’s tox screen.”

“That’s excellent,” he said. “What were they?”

“Mr. Masterson, please sign this waiver so that I can give the results to the police.” The doctor laid a form in front of me.

I barely read it. I signed my name and handed it back.

The doctor placed the form on her clipboard, then turned to Officer Pence. “Judging by Mr. Masterson’s bloodwork, we have determined he ingested a large amount of phenobarbital.”