Page 35 of Reconciling the Consequences

“Who beat her?” another male voice asked.

“A dead man.” Derrick growled.

There was a pause before the guy asked, “What’s that story? I’ve heard talk, but what happened?”

“We met her when we started doing construction on the Carmichael building downtown. Kevin’s worked there for years, and they’ve been friendly.” Derrick shrugged. “One thing led to another, and eventually the three of us got together. When King was arrested, we asked Kara for help. She’s the managing partner of Carmichael and Associates. She agreed to help our lawyer with King’s case. She found some shit happened between her father and King back in the day that Carmichael would kill for if it got out…Kara threatened to expose him, and he hired someone to kill her.” Derrick summarized and glazed over some of the story.

She kept her breathing even as he shifted in his seat and pulled her closer to him. He straightened her bad knee out, and she almost groaned in relief.

“Who got the joy of killing the fucker that hurt her?” the guy asked, his voice husky.

Derrick chuckled. “Kara did. She managed to fight the guy off. More than twice her size, and she was half dead already, but she managed to get his gun and empty the clip in his chest. Mayhem got there just in time to pull her out of the house before it went up in flames.”

“Well holy shit.” The guy’s voice held nothing but respect in his tone. “You got yourself a real badass there, brother.”

“Yeah, Railroad, I know.” Derrick laughed. “She’s a firecracker. Tough as nails, not afraid to stand up to Mayhem. She’s amazing.”

“Good for you, brother. There’s nothing greater than the love of a good woman,” Railroad said softly.

The guys continued to talk, their conversation taking on a dull buzzing in the background as she was slowly lulled deeper into sleep in Derrick’s arms.

Lifeafterthefuneralfound a steady rhythm. Most of the visiting charters went home, and Kara started physical therapy three times a week. The boys all went to work during the day, though they rotated who would take her to physical therapy since she couldn’t drive.

She made her appointments earlier in the morning, so whichever of her boys took her that day would stay home and have breakfast with her before driving her. After, they made sure she was settled in on the couch with everything she’d need before they headed off to work.

By the end of the second week of rehab, a solid month since her attack, she was getting antsy. She wasn’t used to sitting around so much. She was getting around better. She had officially moved into Johnny’s room, unpacking all her belongings into his dressers and closet. All of her clothes had either been dry-cleaned or washed.

She’d had her girls’ night with Slade and Rachel last Friday night. It was a shopping night that had turned into more drinking that shopping, but she had a good time and made a new friend in Rachel. She had been giggly and slightly drunk when she had stumbled in the front door of Johnny’s house around two in the morning.

She’d sent several drunk and disorderly texts to the group chat she had with her three men throughout the night, and she’d gotten flirtier and flirtier as the night wore on. By the time she stumbled into the house, her boys had jumped her at the door and carried her up to bed… where they thoroughly enjoyed her inebriated state.

Today was Monday and time for her four-week follow-up. Johnny would be taking her before he headed into the office… his office, for Taylor Construction.

It made her realize she didn’t know what to do about her own job. She hadn’t talked to her father since the attack. According to Marlie, her father informed the company that she’d been in a car accident.

It was a decent enough explanation of her whereabouts, she supposed, but she still needed to figure out who in the office she could trust. Marlie had agreed to keep her updated on all things Carmichael, but she was just a paralegal on ten, not exactly someone on the executive level that could keep her up to date on her father’s doings.

She was thinking about which partners she might be able to trust when her phone rang. She looked up from the book she had been reading and froze when she saw the unfamiliar number. She frowned and slowly picked up the phone. “Hello?” she answered cautiously.

“Miss Carmichael?” a male voice asked. There was a lot of commotion in the background; she could hear beeping, like a truck backing up. There were several voices yelling back and forth.

“This is she,” she answered professionally.

“Hi, Miss Carmichael. This is Kenny Maris. I’m the security guard down at the Carmichael Eastlake Storage facility.”

Kara froze and her mouth dropped open in shock; she had completely forgotten.

Johnny had just walked into the living room and stopped as he took in her expression. “What happened?”

“It appears we’re getting a rather large delivery of boxes from the Mourningside Doc-U-Store? Are you aware of this?” Kenny continued.

“Yes, sir,” Kara said quickly. “I had to call back several of our early case files. How many boxes are there?”

“Uhh. Three box trucks, ma’am,” Kenny said, flummoxed.

“Alright. Will they help you unload?” Kara questioned.

“Looks that way,” Kenny said. “What would you like me to do with them?”

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