by Stella Moore
“Y-yes, Officer.”
“Detective.” With one hand still holding her gun trained on MaryAnn, Rogers reached for her phone and dialed. “Yeah, I got them. We have backup yet? Send ‘em in.”
Moments later, the house filled with cops in tactical gear shouting orders. MaryAnn was handcuffed despite Olivia’s shouted protests. Rogers gently removed the ropes from Olivia’s wrists, but kept her pinned to the chair when she started to rise.
“EMTs are on their way to check you out. You’ve got a nasty bruise there, Mrs. Monroe.”
At the reminder, her cheek began to throb. “It hurts like a mother. Fucking asshole.”
“Probably a good thing we’ve got your husband in cuffs,” Rogers said with a chuckle. “I’m not sure we’d be able to keep him from killing the bastard otherwise.”
“You arrested James? Why?”
“He’s not under arrest. We had to keep him from getting himself killed. When that gun went off, he made a run for it. For you.”
A pair of paramedics joined the officers in the house. A tall brunette with pink streaks in her hair offered an overly enthusiastic smile. “Hey, there. Olivia, right?”
“Yes. I think I need to go to the hospital.”
“You sure do. Can you look straight ahead for me? I hate to do it, but I gotta shine this light in your eyes real quick, okay?”
“Okay.”
Staring ahead as she’d been told, Olivia tried not to flinch when the light flashed into her eyes.
“Pupils are equal and reactive. Let’s get you up on this stretcher and into the ambulance.”
“I can walk, really,” Olivia insisted, pushing up from the chair.
But pink hair wrapped a surprisingly strong hand around her arm. “Sorry, ma’am. Protocol, ya know? Up you go!”
Rolling her eyes would be torture, so she settled for pouting as they helped her up onto the stretcher. Her stomach rolled at the waves of pain, so she closed her eyes and focused on not puking on anyone.
“Livvy! What the hell happened to her?”
Opening her eyes again, she squinted up at James. His face was even whiter than MaryAnn’s had been. “I’m okay. Just a bruise.”
“You’re covered in blood, Livvy. Where are you hurt?” Lifting his head, he bared his teeth at Detective Rogers as she came jogging up. “What the fuck did he do to my wife?”
“The blood isn’t hers, Mr. Monroe. Just a little splatter from where your receptionist shot her boyfriend.”
“What?” James’s voice rose with a fury that sent a chill down Olivia’s spine. She’d never heard him so angry. “What the fuck happened in there?”
“He hit me,” Olivia offered, swallowing hard. “Hurts.”
Fury took a backseat to concern, though she could still see it burning in his eyes. “I know, baby. I’ll be right behind you.” He started to lift his arm, but the movement was cut short. Growling, he glared at Detective Michaelson. “Do you mind?”
Olivia couldn’t help it. The sight of her daddy in handcuffs sent her over the edge and she began laughing hysterically.
“What’s wrong with her?” Bryant demanded.
James leaned over the stretcher, panic clear in his crystal blue eyes. “Livvy? Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I-I’m supposed to be the one in handcuffs!” she managed between breathless fits of laughter.
There was a moment of dead silence before Bryant let out a howl of laughter. James’s mouth fell open for a moment before his face turned a shade of red she’d never seen before.
“Let’s get you in the rig, sweetheart,” pink hair cooed. “Before you give your man there a heart attack.”
“He’ll be fine.” Waving a hand dismissively, Olivia grinned at her daddy.
The EMTs lifted the stretcher into the ambulance, and as soon as the handcuffs were off, James tried to climb in behind her.
“Sir, you need to ride up front.” With a smile that bordered on manic, pink hair popped up and pulled the doors shut on James’s shocked face.
“I think I’m a little in love with you,” Olivia said, her head rolling to the side as whatever drugs they’d pumped into the IV started to kick in.
“Back atcha, cutie. Now you just sit tight and let us take care of you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
She woke alone in her own bed the next morning. Well, unless one counted the blinding pain in her cheek. Whimpering, she stumbled to the bathroom to inspect the damage.
“Motherfucker.” The whole right side of her face was various shades of black and blue. According to the doctors, it wasn’t broken, but they could’ve fooled her. She poked at the bruise, hissing when searing pain shot through her skull.
“That looks painful, little one.”
“It is.” Lifting her gaze, she met his eyes in the reflection and sent him a smug smile. “But you should see the other guy.”
“According to the detectives, he’ll live. Unfortunately.”
“MaryAnn is either a crap shot, or an excellent one.” Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she turned to slip her arms around his waist. “Daddy?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you gonna fire MaryAnn?”
The muscles in his back tensed. “I assumed that was a given. She helped a killer abduct you, Olivia.”
“I know, but I don’t think she really knew what was going on.”
“How could she not know? We had no less than five meetings about how a deranged killer was after you.”
“She loved him. From what I could tell, he didn’t tell her who he was. He just said he wanted to talk to me, probably about the job.”
“Be that as it may, she will most likely spend some time in prison. We can’t hold her position open for an indefinite amount of time, baby.”
Pulling away, she frowned up at him. “She doesn’t belong in prison, James.”
His eyes narrowed in a dangerous look she knew all too well. “Don’t take that tone with me, little girl. Or you can sit your pretty little bottom down at your desk and write lines all day. Understood?”
“But it’s not fair. She saved my life!”
“I know.” When he sighed, she knew she was winning the battle. “I’ll have Bryant find us a lawyer for her. He’s bound to know someone who can help.”
“Thank you, Daddy!”
“I’m not promising anything, little one. Just that we’ll do what we can to help her.”
“That’s enough.” Her tummy chose that moment to loudly protest the lack of food it had received in the last twenty-four hours. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Waffles.” Slipping an arm around her waist, he led her from the room.
“Waffles! And ice cream?”
“Absolutely.”
“Wait, really?”
“If anyone deserves ice cream for breakfast today, it’s you.”
The excitement she felt over the ice cream quickly gave way to guilt. Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. “I don’t deserve ice cream.”
Stopping at the top of the stairs, he turned to her. “Why not?”
“I broke the rules. And I got hurt and you got arrested and MaryAnn shot someone!”
“That’s all true.” Lifting a hand, he feathered his fingers over her cheek. “But this seems like punishment enough.”
“Oh.”
“You seem disappointed, little one.”
As always, she struggled with how much to tell him and exactly how to say it. “I guess I am. I broke your rules, even though I knew better. When MaryAnn called, I knew you were going to spank me but I did it anyway because I wanted to.”
“Well, I think it’s safe to say I won’t be spanking you for anything until your cheek is healed.”
“But Daddy, I can’t wait that long,” she whined.
“Then I’ll have to think of something else.” He nudged her forward and they started down the stairs again. “Since you broke the rule because of a phone call, I thin
k a week without phone privileges sounds about right.”
“A week? I can’t go a week without my phone! What about work?”
“You’re taking at least that long off to heal. Patty is covering for you in the meantime.”
“You can’t really expect me to give up my phone for an entire week, James.”
They’d reached the bottom of the stairs, and he once again stopped to face her. Only now, disapproval was etched into every line of his handsome face. “I do expect it. Do you know why, little one?”
Her heart nearly beat out of her chest at the serious, stern tone. “Because you’re my daddy?”
“Exactly right. And as your daddy, I can and do expect you to follow my rules. And I expect you to accept whatever punishment I decide on when you break those rules.”
“But a week is a really long time!”
“It’s nothing compared to the eternity I spent waiting for you to come out of that house. I expected you to leave in a body bag.”
Guilt twisted her stomach into knots. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I know, little one. And while this is going to be a long week for you, I would never let your career suffer. I’ll have your phone with me at all times in case something urgent comes up. But there’s no social media, no texting, no internet for a week. Understood?”
With a heavy sigh, she nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s my good girl. Now, let’s get you some ice cream.”
The End
Stormy Night Publications would like to thank you for your interest in our books.
If you liked this book (or even if you didn’t), we would really appreciate you leaving a review on the site where you purchased it. Reviews provide useful feedback for us and our authors, and this feedback (both positive comments and constructive criticism) allows us to work even harder to make sure we provide the content our customers want to read.
If you would like to check out more books from Stormy Night Publications, if you want to learn more about our company, or if you would like to join our mailing list, please visit our website at:
http://www.stormynightpublications.com
Stella Moore Links
You can keep up with Stella Moore via her Twitter account, her Facebook page, and her Goodreads profile, using the following links:
https://twitter.com/authorstellam
https://www.facebook.com/authorstellam/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17060627.Stella_Moore
