Heart Of The Billionaire(47)

Sam frowned and he opened his mouth to argue, but the doctor in charge of the E.R. entered before he could answer.

Maddie was acquainted with the older, gray-haired doctor, and she stepped closer to him to discuss the treatment and care needed for Sam’s injuries. From the corner of her eye, she could see Max helping Sam back into his shirt, leaving his jacket off for comfort. Sam was grumbling, irritated about anything that slowed him down.

The moment the E.R. doctor left the room, Sam was headed determinedly for the door.

“Whoa…we need to get your script and you need to sign your discharge papers, Sam.” She grabbed the back of his shirt gently as he clasped her hand in his and tried to drag her out of the hospital.

“We’re leaving,” he rasped, tugging on her hand, Max following behind her.

She shot a look back at her brother, his grin lighting up his face as he watched Sam striding hard-headedly toward the door.

Max shrugged and Maddie rolled her eyes. Luckily, the nurse met them at the door, and Sam picked up the pen and scribbled his name on the discharge instructions, barely breaking his stride. Maddie took the papers and snatched the script, smiling at the nurse as she happily followed Sam.

“I don’t need the damn pills. All I need is you,” he rumbled, heading for the exit, his grip tightening on her hand.

It wasn’t exactly romantic or tender, but coming from Sam, the comment was heartfelt and it made Maddie sigh.

Twenty minutes later, they were home.

**

“Why didn’t you take my virginity when we were younger?” Maddie asked as she lay as close as she dared beside Sam in his massive bed. He’d kept trying to bring her closer, but she scuttled away, concerned about causing him pain.

Sam’s entire back and legs had bruises forming and he had strained some muscles. Luckily, nothing was broken, but he had to hurt just about everywhere. She could see it in his walk, the pained expression on his face. She had stripped him down to his silk boxers and put him to bed, getting into bed and lying beside him after she had donned a silk nightshirt herself and had practically needed to force-feed him one of his pain pills.

“I couldn’t do it,” he answered roughly, hesitantly, his hand raking through his hair as though he was frustrated, not quite sure of how to answer.

Maybe at an earlier time, Maddie might have taken his answer as a rejection. But not now. Not after all that had happened between them. She pretty much knew the answer, but she wanted him to tell her. “Why?” she asked softly. “Was it because you were assaulted and molested?” She was tired of dancing around the issue.

“You knew?” he answered quietly, his low voice astonished.

“I read your medical records, Sam. Remember? Those records were there, too,” she admitted, her hand moving down to take his to reassure him.

“Fuck!” he rasped, his hand squeezing hers tightly, his body tense. “I never meant for you to know. You shouldn’t know. I was tarnished. I wasn’t worthy of you. I was a street rat who let men use my body.” His voice was hoarse and tormented.

“You were molested,” Maddie insisted indignantly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Sam. It wasn’t your fault.” She sat up on one elbow, able to see his face in the moonlight, but not his eyes. Sam was lying on his back and his whole body was rigid, unmoving.

“I wasn’t molested. I let them do it,” he replied flatly.

“To protect Simon,” she added. “So they would leave him alone.”

“Doesn’t matter why. I agreed,” he answered stiffly.

“It matters, Sam,” she told him softly, her hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “Tell me about it,” she pleaded.

How could she tell him that it was even braver of him to sacrifice himself for Simon? He’d submitted to the pain and humiliation to keep his younger brother from being a victim, his father getting payment in drugs and alcohol for the use of his son’s body.

Sam released a masculine sigh. “I heard the men talking with my father one night, trying to make a deal. They were a bunch of sick bastards from the organization that got their rocks off by screwing young boys. They wanted Simon because he was young, helpless. My father was going to do it; he was going to let them do that to Simon. Goddammit. How can a man sacrifice his kid like that for any reason?” Sam’s chest was heaving as he continued, “Simon was in fucking grade school, still so damn innocent and young. I told my father I’d kill him if he touched Simon and he said he had already agreed and we’d all be in danger if he didn’t deliver. So I let the bastard give me over to them instead.”