Imperfect Saint

by Jess Bryant

  On instinct he reached for the gun he kept on his hip while he was on duty and cursed when he came up empty. It was locked up tight in his car. He never took it inside Millie’s apartment because he knew she wasn’t completely comfortable with the weapon.

  It didn’t matter. He didn’t need a weapon. When it came to protecting Millie he would fight with his hands and feet and teeth if need be.

  Hunter pushed through the door and was instantly overcome by the smell of something burning. He made a quick turn into the kitchen and gaped at the mess he found. Water and noodles covered the floor. The stovetop burned bright red from the heat where it was still on. Something in a back burner was smoking and though the fan hummed furiously trying to dissipate it the smoke was rolling up to the ceiling causing the smoke alarm to beep in warning.

  Movement out of the corner of his eye had him spinning towards the living room and when he did he stopped short. What he saw sent cold, dangerous fear sliding down his spine. It was Millie but, she didn’t look like his Millie in that moment and nothing confirmed that more than the gun she was holding in her hand, the gun that was pointed at the man lying on the floor, crying in agony, glass glittering as it protruded from somewhere that must be dangerously close to his kidneys.

  Hunter didn’t spare the man on the floor even a moment’s care. He knew who it was without looking. There was only one bastard in the world that would dare to harm Hunter’s sweet, sensitive Millie. And that bastard deserved to die but God help him, Hunter couldn’t let it be by Millie’s hand or she would never forgive herself.

  Whatever had happened here, however that asshole had gotten in this apartment and whether he’d landed on that piece of glass by accident or not, one thing was clear, he’d come here to hurt Millie and instead she was the one standing while Joshua Bell was on the ground.

  Hunter wanted to smile. He wanted to cry. He wanted to rush to her and hug her and tell her that it was okay, that she’d won and that everything would be fine. But he knew better than to do any of those things when there was a hurt, bleeding, and emotionally traumatized woman holding a gun.

  “Millie.” He spoke her name softly and when she didn’t so much as twitch he spoke a little louder, “Millie? Baby? Look at me. Look at me, Mills. Come on, babe. Look at me.”

  He wasn’t sure how long he spoke to her, gradually raising his voice, never daring to shout for fear of startling her and having that gun accidentally discharged or even pointed at him. He just kept his voice soft as he tried to bring her back to reality. He darted a few glances down to see that the bastard on the floor was still flailing and cursing and he told him to shut up but it didn’t seem as though Joshua Bell heard him either. He started to worry he’d walked in too late, that this was some sort of nightmare and he wasn’t going to be able to wake any of them up from it when finally, finally, he saw Millie sway slightly on her feet.

  “Millie.” He said her name sternly, a demand that she turn and look at him and to his utter amazement, she did.

  Her gaze flickered over to him and her lashes fluttered. Her brows knit together as she looked at him, as if she couldn’t figure out what he was doing there. She blinked again and the hands she had wrapped so tightly around that gun dropped a couple of inches, giving him hope that she was coming out of the fog of her struggle to survive and whatever else her wounds had caused.

  God, her wounds.

  Hunter forced himself not to focus on all the blood and instead kept his eyes on hers, “Millie, baby. It’s me. Baby, it’s me. I’m here, it’s okay. You’re okay. Come here. Come to me.”

  A tremor went through her and he saw her bottom lip quiver a moment before she gulped in a giant gasp of air and then sobbed his name out loud. She lowered the gun to her side and he swept forward to grab her when she made no move to come to him like he’d asked. His boots crunched in the broken glass and he carefully pulled Millie off her bare feet, lifting her into his arms and carrying her out of the wreckage of her living room.

  He placed her on top of the island in the kitchen after hugging her as tightly as he dared and then he went to work. He took the gun from her loosened grip and checked it. Loaded and with the safety off, it was a damn miracle it hadn’t discharged already. He unloaded it quickly with deft precision and then set aside the pieces for the cops to take a look at when he realized it wasn’t the weapon he’d gone with Millie to purchase.

  Hunter shot a glance back towards the living room, following Millie’s gaze, and he frowned. The man on the floor had gone still. The pool of blood surrounding him was beginning to look dangerous. He scowled but told Millie not to move, which he didn’t figure was a problem considering she was in shock, and then he crossed back over to check the bastard’s pulse.

  It was faint, but it was still there. He’d passed out. That was all.

  Hunter wanted to kick him. He wanted to take a piece of glass and slice his throat open. He wanted to kill Joshua Bell for ever having laid a finger on Millie, but he couldn’t let the asshole die. Not like this. Not if it meant that Millie would spend even a second regretting whatever actions she’d taken to defend herself.

  Instead of kicking that piece of glass straight through the other side of the bastard’s chest, Hunter pulled his cell phone out and dialed the first number in his phone. As it rang, he moved through the apartment, turning off the stove, moving the burned food and disconnecting the fire alarm so that it would stop blaring. He told Vaughn everything that he knew so far and his brother promised to get there as soon as he could to evaluate the situation. After Vaughn hung up, Hunter did the only reasonable thing and called 911. With the responsible actions taken, he finally let himself return to Millie, who still sat ghostly pale on the counter, unmoving and barely breathing.

  “Mills?” He said her name before he touched her but she still jumped, blinking at him as though he’d surprised her. “Baby, it’s me. I’m here. I’m here now. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

  “Hunter?” She spoke his name, her voice barely a whisper, as if this was the first time she’d noticed he was here.

  “Yeah baby. I’m here.”

  “Hunter.” She said again but this time his name pinched into a sob and she fell forward against his chest, crying as he wrapped her protectively in his arms and held her. He rubbed her back soothingly. He promised her that she was safe. But it took precious minutes before she stopped shaking enough for him to risk pulling back from her.

  She looked half dead and it scared the hell out of him. Her face was pale. Her eyes were bloodshot. She had a huge gash along her temple that ran up into her hairline and the blood had spilled down one side of her face, matted in her dark hair, and stained her clothes. She had other smaller cuts along her arms and legs and he could only assume those were from the entertainment center that lay in shards all over the living room. It was the cut on her hand that worried him most. It was a deep cut, lacerated straight through flesh and tissue and muscle, a straight line that he knew without a second thought would match the blood covering the piece of glass sticking out of that bastard’s back.

  He glanced up, tears in his eyes, “Millie?”

  “I stopped him.” She whispered, her bottom lip trembling again. “He was going to kill me this time but I stopped him.”

  “You did. You did.” He nodded, pressing kisses against her mouth, her cheek, her forehead, anywhere he could safely touch her without causing pain, trying to reassure them both that she was alive and okay and in one piece. “You stopped him, baby. You did good, you did so good. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should have been here.”

  “Shhh.” She leaned forward and put her head on his chest and he choked out a half sob, barely holding back the tears when he realized she was trying to comfort him.

  Her ex had broken into her home. He’d brought a gun. He’d hurt her. He’d tried to kill her. Millie had defended herself. She’d survived. And here she was trying to comfort Hunter instead of the other way around.

&
nbsp; “I love you. I love you so much. God, Mills.” He pulled back and held her face between his hands, the tears blurring his vision now, “You scared the hell out of me, baby. I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She didn’t smile but some of the light returned to her eyes and she raised her unhurt hand to cover his, “That’s why I couldn’t let him kill me. I couldn’t go. If I’d died, you’d never know…”

  “Know what?” He frowned when she trailed off.

  “That I love you too.”

  “God. Mills.” His heart gave a painful squeeze and he pulled her back to his chest and hugged her tight, “I love you and I love hearing you say that but please, please tell me again when you’re safe, okay?”

  “I am safe. You’re here now.” She nestled against his chest.

  “I’m here.” He confirmed, stroking her back again, “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’m never letting you go.”

  Millie stayed just like that, wrapped in his arms, her every breath reminding him that she was alive and helping to keep him sane, until the cops and the paramedics showed up. After that, their quiet, peaceful moment was broken and they were thrust back into the wreckage of the apartment, the crime scene, and their lives as they knew them. The first person that tried to take Millie away from him nearly got his nose broken but as luck would have it, Vaughn had been close and showed up only seconds later, pushing his way through the barrier of cops and breaking through Hunter’s fear enough to let the paramedics take Millie to be looked at.

  Hunter had never been so happy to see his older brother, or his younger brother for that matter. Tyler had come with Vaughn, they’d been together at the office when Hunter had called and they’d come running at the first sound of Hunter’s strained voice.

  He loved them for it even as he knew that their presence was pissing off the cops that wanted to talk to him.

  Vaughn was in full on big brother mode. He was acting as shield and bodyguard. He’d spoken to the detective in charge on the scene and once he’d given his credentials they’d unhappily let him stay. Not that he’d have been forced out even if they’d tried to get him to leave the scene. Nobody got Vaughn to do anything he didn’t want to do.

  Tyler on the other hand, was twisting his hands and attempting to nurse Hunter back to health with glasses of water and pats on the back. His younger brother looked shaken by the scene he’d walked in on which was somehow more reassuring than Vaughn’s utter control of the impossible situation. This was crazy and Tyler’s lack of experience in how to deal with it made Hunter feel a little bit better. He’d accepted the water Tyler kept forcing on him and then sent his brother to check on Millie again and again and again as the paramedics cleaned up and assessed her injuries.

  A second group of paramedics had rushed to Joshua as soon as they entered the apartment and gone straight to work. Hunter had watched them with only the vaguest of interest once he assured himself the guy was still alive. He might want him dead but he didn’t want him dying here and now from something Millie had done, for protection or not. After a long time Joshua was strapped to a stretcher and hauled out of the apartment and some part of Hunter that he hadn’t realized was holding his breath, waiting for the boogeyman to get back on his feet like he did in all the horror movies, finally breathed out a sigh of relief.

  “Hey, you okay?” He looked up to find Tyler hovering over him again like a mother hen.

  “Yeah. I’m okay.” He assured his younger brother with a nod.

  “You don’t look okay, dude. You look shell-shocked.” Tyler squatted down next to where Hunter had collapsed into a chair what felt like hours ago.

  “I’m fine. I’m just worried about Millie.”

  “That’s the girl, huh?” A slightly crooked smile played on Tyler’s lips and Hunter would recognize that teasing tone anywhere. “She’s the one that works for Lemon? The one you can’t stop talking about?”

  “Yeah. That’s her.”

  “She’s pretty and strong as hell. She…”

  “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.” Hunter growled through clenched teeth.

  Tyler only grinned, flashing his own pearly whites, “What?”

  “Don’t start. You say one word about her and the police will have another crime scene to deal with because I’ll straight up beat your pretty face in.”

  Tyler gave a low whistle, his smile never faltering, “Yep, Vaughn was right. You’ve got it bad.”

  Hunter glared at his brother, “Why have you and Vaughn been talking about me and my girl?”

  “It’s been over a month now since you started calling her that. Your girl. Your woman. Yours. We were just talking about how it would be nice to meet this girl that’s got our brother all twisted up in knots. I mean, we didn’t really want to meet her like this but…” Tyler gave a relaxed shrug, “Still nice to meet her, even under the circumstances.”

  Hunter groaned and swiped a hand over his face. This wasn’t happening. It really wasn’t happening. He’d somehow fallen asleep and this was just a bad dream. Maybe he’d fallen asleep at his desk writing the report about his day with the Senator and this whole thing was nothing but a bad dream. That seemed about as likely as all of this being real.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “What?” Tyler looked surprised when Hunter rolled his eyes.

  “I came home to find my girlfriend bloody and bruised, holding a gun on a man that tried to kill her, and you think that now is a good time to make me feel guilty for not bringing her to Vaughn’s for Sunday dinner yet?”

  “Hey, if you’re feeling guilty then maybe you should’ve brought her to family dinner and then we wouldn’t all have to be meeting like this.”

  Hunter groaned at the broad smile his pain in the ass little brother gave him. He wanted to strangle him almost as much as he wanted to hug him. Because as Vaughn started their way with a suited cop at his side, Hunter realized what Tyler was really up to.

  Distraction.

  If there was one skill his younger brother excelled at, it was certainly that. He was pretending none of this phased him. Giving Hunter hell about his girlfriend being pretty. Making him feel guilty by mentioning all of the Sunday dinners he could and should have brought her to. Tyler had been trying to distract him from the fact that Vaughn was standing across the room with the detective while the guy in the wrinkled suit questioned Millie.

  “Ty?”

  “Yeah?” His younger brother perked up, probably hoping for some sort of duty that would give him something to do other than fetch water and implement diversionary tactics.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  Tyler chuckled low and squeezed his shoulder as he pushed back to his feet, “You’re not even the first person to call me that today.”

  “Mr. St. James.” The detective stopped in front of them, glancing nervously from one of them to the next to the next and back again as Hunter pulled himself up and stood as well. The young-looking detective wiped his hand on his slacks and then offered it, “Hunter St. James?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m Detective Keaton Brian. I’m told Sergeant Bellamy already took your statement?”

  “Yes, when he first arrived but I can go through it again if you need me to.”

  “That’s okay. We’ve taken Ms. Turner’s statement and it matches with what you gave Shawn. You arrived after she’d fought off Mr. Bell who broke into her apartment armed with a weapon and intent on inflicting bodily harm on her.”

  “Bodily harm?” Hunter narrowed his eyes. “He came here to kill her.”

  “Yes. Of course, that’s what I…” Detective Brian cleared his throat and then lowered his voice, “Have you been informed of what the first officers on the scene discovered downstairs?”

  Hunter jerked his eyes from the detective to his brothers. Vaughn held his gaze but as per usual, his stony face gave nothing away. Tyler glanced away, looking over his s
houlder towards Millie and then down at the ground, anywhere but at Hunter.

  He frowned, “Apparently not.”

  “It wasn’t in your statement but I didn’t want to assume you didn’t see it…”

  “What are you talking about?” He pressed when the detective hedged.

  “The first officers on the scene swept the lobby and found the body of a Ms…” Detective Brian looked at his notepad and sighed, “Ms. Kendra Elm behind the check-in counter. She’d been shot in the head at close range. Her body left where it fell. You didn’t notice anything strange when you came in downstairs?”

  Hunter gaped at the detective as the words processed. Kendra. Dead. Shot. Downstairs. He shook his head automatically and then forced himself to stop and think.

  What had he noticed downstairs? The lobby had been empty. He’d thought it was strange. But he hadn’t gone near the check in counter, because he’d gone straight to the elevator. If he’d gone by the desk first, would he have seen her? Could he have helped her? Maybe she’d…

  It was Vaughn’s sudden and tight grip on his arm that jerked him back to the present, “She was gone the instant he pulled the trigger. There’s nothing you could have done.”

  Hunter gave a short nod, both of understanding and gratitude. Vaughn slowly pulled his hand away. Hunter forced himself to take a deep breath and accept the truth for what it was.

  He’d known that Joshua Bell came here to hurt Millie. He’d brought a gun and intended to kill her from the looks of it. But Hunter hadn’t thought for a second that the man was capable of killing someone just for getting in the way of his plan. By the time Joshua Bell reached this apartment, he’d already been a murderer. Adding Millie to his list would have been easy for him because she was the reason he’d come here in the first place.