Sammi covered the wound back up and took a more detailed look around the room to try and keep her mind off of the pain. The bedroom was very plain and very neat. It could have passed as not belonging to anyone if it weren’t for the single picture frame on the nightstand. Sammi picked up the frame to investigate and her stomach instantly knotted. It was a photo of her nightmare from the night before, Mack Johnson. Also pictured with him, in a forced family pose, were a pretty woman his age and two children. It was Mack Johnson’s family, so was this Mack Johnson’s apartment?
Now even more confused and wondering if this was some bizarre kidnapping, Sammi tried leaving the room for the first time. The door next to the nightstand was unlocked so she let herself out into the nicely carpeted hallway. She explored the entire two-floor, three-bedroom apartment, looking for some sort of explanation of why she had been brought here but found nothing and no one. The front door was only locked on the inside, so it seemed that the homeowner was out, but that Sammi was free to leave.
Sammi started to exit the apartment, looking forward to getting home and back to familiarity. She hadn’t even closed the apartment door behind her when she realized that she couldn’t leave because she wasn’t wearing any pants. She hadn’t seen her own clothing anywhere at all while looking through the home. Still not entirely certain where in the city she was, she couldn’t risk going out in the street dressed the way she was, especially considering how guys looked at her when she was fully clothed. Defeated, she slowly let herself back into the apartment and crumbled to her knees, one hand still on the doorknob.
Frustrated by not knowing what was going on and not being in control of the situation, Sammi began sobbing on the floor. Tears started to roll effortlessly from her eyes and landed in tiny splashes on the hardwood floor. Sammi lost track of how long she remained like that before finally composing herself and deciding her next move. Even though her injuries were throbbing and she looked like a walking disaster, she had no choice but to get out of there.
Back on the second floor, Sammi returned to the bedroom where she had woken up and started throwing drawers open, looking for a pair of pants or a long coat, anything that she could wear to cover herself up just to get home safely. In the very last drawer, she found a pair of navy-blue sweatpants, also emblazoned with the New York Police Department logo. They were huge, but they had a drawstring so she hiked them up past her waist and tied them as tightly as she could, hoping the string and the elastic would be enough to hold the pants in place over her flat little bum just long enough for her to get across the city.
Fully clothed and with adrenaline now masking the pain in both of her gunshot wounds, Sammi dashed down the stairs and right out the apartment door. She hadn’t even made the complete turn out of the doorway before she came to a halt in front of Detective Mack Johnson returning home from work. Caught in his soulful blue eyes, Sammi was trapped, unable to break free from their extended eye contact.
“Oh, you’re still here,” Mack muttered as he tore his own gaze away, breaking the connection.
“I was just leaving,” Sammi replied quickly before making her run for it and tripping over the doormat that she didn’t even see under her feet. Luckily, she caught herself on her hands and knees, but bursts of pain shot through her injured thigh and up into her side, causing her to let out a slight whimper.
A hand reached down to help Sammi and she looked up, back into the detective’s soft eyes. She took Johnson’s hand and let him help her up as he kept an arm around her to make sure she was steady on her feet. As she stood, she caught a glimpse of the badge on Johnson’s belt and a breath caught in her throat. Being that close to law enforcement was making her understandably nervous.
“Careful,” Johnson whispered softly, keeping a hold of Sammi’s elbow. “Would you mind allowing me to check on your stitches before sending you out into the world? I must admit, I’m not a pro.”
“I guess,” Sammi gave in without a fight because of how much her thigh was burning after her fall. “The one on my side was bleeding when I woke up.”
Johnson grimaced for her as he guided her back into the apartment, still not letting go of her elbow. Sammi was torn between the warm feeling in her gut that she got from the cop’s closeness and the anxious feeling that she was about to be placed under arrest. She hated not knowing what was going on.
“Why didn’t you just take me to the hospital?” Sammi stuttered after swallowing hard as she followed Johnson through the apartment and upstairs to the master bedroom again.
“They would’ve asked too many questions. Then you’d be going to jail, and your friends would keep all the money they got away with,” Johnson explained matter-of-factly, waving his free hand out to the side as if his point were obvious.
“So, you’re hoping I’ll get the money back for you?” Sammi asked, raising an eyebrow in shock.
“What? No! If anything, I think you yourself should keep it all after that fight you put up last night. But when your brilliant team leader accidentally shot you instead of me, I couldn’t just leave you there to bleed out.”
“My team leader? I think you’ve got it all wrong. I was in charge that night.”
“Sorry. I must’ve misread the situation.”
By then the two of them had reached the bedroom and Sammi leaned against the doorway, watching Johnson as he quickly remade the bed from Sammi’s slumber earlier. Johnson was wearing a pair of tan khaki pants that hung perfectly on his waist and a tight black t-shirt that had to stretch over his bulging arm muscles. Noticing just how fit Johnson was, Sammi started to realize how attracted she was to him. There was something about his playful smile and caring blue eyes that were enough to make her forget that he was a cop. She suddenly found herself imagining what it would be like to run her fingers through his soft brown, longer-than-police-standard crew cut.
When Johnson finished what he was doing, he turned to face Sammi and opened his mouth to say something, but he saw the way Sammi was looking at him and had to turn away again to hide his smile. After taking a second to clear his own thoughts, shaking his head quickly, he finally walked back over to Sammi. He took her hand and helped her glide over to the bed without putting any weight on her injured leg. “Here, sit up against these pillows,” Johnson directed, patting the pillows on his bed.
Sammi obeyed and sat on the bed with her back up against the pillows, pushing one side of the stolen sweatpants down past the gunshot in her thigh. Johnson plopped down on the edge of the bed next to her and rolled the bottom of the NYPD t-shirt up over her thigh. He brushed his thumb over the first wound and then pushed against the skin around it, checking that his stitches would hold. Sammi squeaked once from the pain and pushed his hands away from her leg.
“Sorry!” Johnson chuckled and threw his hands up in forfeit. “I just had to make sure my stitches were secure.”
“Okay, they’re all good. I can leave now,” Sammi said and started to get up. Johnson quickly put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down against the pillows.
“Nice try. How about I make you a deal? You show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” Johnson offered and pointed to his shoulder where Sammi had shot him.
“Fine,” Sammi sighed and pushed the t-shirt up to uncover the bullet wound on her side.
Sammi couldn’t bring herself to look at the still throbbing hole in her side so she watched Johnson instead. He grimaced and she knew it had to be bad. He reached over and grabbed a bottle and a cotton ball out of his nightstand drawer. Then he poured a little bit of his homemade skin-safe antibiotic solution onto the cotton ball and suddenly Sammi felt the coldness on her side. She gasped in pain and squeezed her eyes shut, pushing out a single tear that rolled down her cheek. After a few seconds, she felt Johnson take the bottom of the t-shirt from her grip and roll it back down to cover her wounds.
“I’m done. You can open your eyes,” Johnson said, holding back a chuckle.
Sammi opened her eyes and Jo
hnson was standing next to the bed with his shirt off. Her jaw dropped and a crooked little grin appeared on Johnson’s face. Part of Sammi’s reaction was because of how great he looked, but it was mostly a direct reaction to his own bullet wound. It was much lower than she had originally thought and dangerously close to his heart.
“I’m really sorry that I shot you…and broke your nose,” Sammi said, trying to seem innocent as she sat up from the pillows and glanced at his swollen nose.
“I’m sorry as well,” Johnson said kindly and sat back down on the edge of the bed.
“So, do you always bring the bad guy home to your place?” Sammi asked, teasing.
“No, you’re honestly the first.”
“Well, I’m honored, but I should get going. Eli’s going to start to worry.”
“Eli? I see. Well, look, take my card. Call me if you ever get into serious trouble.”
“With all due respect, Lieutenant Johnson, I’m always getting into trouble.”
Then Sammi stood up from the bed and fixed her much too baggy clothing that she knew she must’ve looked absolutely ridiculous in, like a child playing dress up in a parent’s wardrobe. She started to leave but as she reached the doorway, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist to stop her. She turned back to look at Johnson and saw concern in his eyes.
“I saw the bruises,” Johnson said calmly. Sammi’s face fell and angry embers danced in her cold eyes.
“That is none of your business,” Sammi hissed and pulled her wrist free from Johnson’s grip.
“Samantha, I’m a cop. I’ve seen how these things end. It’s my job to keep you safe.”
“So that’s why you brought me here? So my boyfriend wouldn’t beat me to death?”
“No, but that’s why I’m insisting you stay here, at least for the night.”
“You’re insane.”
“Sammi, if you walk through that door, I will personally arrest you and all of your friends from last night before the sun comes up tomorrow.”
Sammi stormed out of Johnson’s bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her. Instead of heading downstairs to leave, she walked to the end of the hallway where there was a sliding glass door that led to a balcony. Letting herself out onto the small city balcony, she sat down on one of two cushioned chairs and pulled her knees to her chest. She wasn’t afraid of being arrested; she knew the consequences of her line of work. But she would protect her friends if she could, no matter what the cost.
*
“I actually thought you had left,” Johnson said, appearing next to Sammi on the balcony a few minutes later.
“I’m not afraid of you. But I won’t betray my team like that,” Sammi responded without even turning to look at him.
“Come have dinner with me and get out of the cold,” Johnson replied, offering her his hand. Sammi hadn’t even realized how brisk the December air was.
Sammi hesitantly took Johnson’s hand and he led her downstairs to the kitchen. They walked over to the large island and Johnson pulled a stool out for Sammi to sit down before he picked up his cellphone and ordered a pizza. Then he sat next to Sammi to wait for the food in total awkwardness. The two of them were quiet at first, both lost in their own thoughts about the uncomfortable situation they had found themselves in.
“So, who is he?” Johnson finally broke the silence. There was no need to specify who he meant.
“Believe it or not, he’s the idiot who shot me instead of you,” Sammi told him.
“That’s your boyfriend? Do you think maybe he missed me on purpose?”
“Definitely not. He’s not dumb enough to kill me. No one else on the team can plan a heist like I can.”
“So, you do this type of thing a lot?”
“Like I said, I’m always getting into trouble,” Sammi taunted then quickly got up and walked over to the window in the adjoining living room.
Sammi didn’t like talking about herself at all, especially with a stranger. It made her uncomfortable and, more than anything, it made her feel weak. As she watched the cars on the street below the apartment, she silently wished for the pizza to get there quickly so Johnson would stop asking her questions.
Johnson hesitated, but he eventually joined Sammi by the window. It was obvious that something had upset her, but he didn’t know how to ask. He had never been good with feelings and communication, which he always thought made him a good cop. But it also made him a bad husband.
“You know, I’m really starting to think I should turn you in,” Johnson teased, trying to keep the mood light.
“I don’t believe you would, not even if I walked out of here right now,” Sammi challenged him.
“Oh really? And why is that?”
“Because you didn’t notice me at the mall for looking suspicious.”
“Touché.”
Sammi knew she had made Johnson uncomfortable this time because his voice got quieter and he took a casual step away from her. She wanted to take advantage of his moment of vulnerability, but there was a knock on the door and Johnson hurried over to retrieve the pizza. Sammi slowly returned to the island to join Johnson for a silent meal together.
The awkwardness only continued after dinner as Sammi wasn’t sure of Johnson’s expectations for the evening and Johnson hadn’t thought this far ahead.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” Johnson asked, still playing the polite host.
“I’m okay. I’d just really like to get this night over with,” Sammi told him, trying to make him feel bad about keeping her there.
“Come on, you might as well take my room again,” Johnson offered as he got up and headed for the stairs.
*
Back upstairs in Johnson’s room, Sammi sat on the bed while Johnson got a few things out of his closet. He was silent so Sammi looked uneasily around the room. Spotting the photo of Johnson and company, Sammi picked it up.
“Who are they?” Sammi asked, holding the frame out to show Johnson.
“That’s my son, Luke, my daughter, Julia, and my wife, Lori,” Johnson said, sitting next to Sammi and taking the framed photo out of her hand.
“You’re married?” Sammi asked, surprised.
“Separated. I haven’t signed the final divorce papers yet.”
“And she has?”
“Yeah, about a year ago.”
“And what are you waiting for?”
“I don’t like the idea of failing at a marriage.”
“I can respect that. But I think it’s a little late for that. You both failed. You need to move on.”
“Nobody fucking asked you.”
Then Johnson slammed the frame back down on the nightstand and stormed out of the room with his change of clothes. Sammi felt bad for making him so upset, but she was just trying to be honest with him. She couldn’t fall asleep because she was worried about how mad she had made Johnson and because she was so out of her comfort zone being away from home. She had never had a home before Eli came along—that was the only reason she stayed with him.
Around three o’clock in the morning, Sammi couldn’t take it anymore and decided she had to get out of there. Listening at the door, she didn’t hear anything in the hallway, so she made her way to the stairs and stopped at the bottom to listen for any movement. The entire apartment was quiet, so she slipped out the front door, being mindful of the doormat, and figuring Johnson didn’t care if she spent the night or not after cursing her out.
Chapter Three
Mr. Sensitive
When Sammi got home to the tiny apartment she shared with Eli, she found her boyfriend passed out in their bed. She kind of laughed to herself as she realized he hadn’t worried about her one bit. But the exhaustion from the past forty-eight hours finally overcame her, and she gladly crawled under the blankets and instantly fell asleep next to him.
The next morning, Sammi woke up to the sound of Eli yelling and cursing. She opened her eyes without stirring and saw that he was on the phone, standing next
to his side of the bed. Sammi grumbled aloud, knowing that there was no way she was getting back to sleep, and flung the blankets off her body. She shot out of bed and headed out into the kitchen.
After grabbing an energy drink out of the fridge, Sammi sat down at the wobbly little table in the kitchen. Enjoying the peaceful moment to herself, she wondered why Eli hadn’t gotten them a bigger or nicer place to live by this point; she knew they could afford it. But as Eli sauntered into the kitchen and leaned against the doorway, Sammi completely forgot what she was thinking about.
Eli was unreasonably attractive, with long chestnut hair that had grown just past the collar of his shirts. When he looked at Sammi with his sea-green eyes, she always felt like he was looking straight into her soul. He came across as a rugged man with his baggier style and the fact that he was built like a hockey player, but he had the sweetest, softest smile that put Sammi at ease and made her feel safer than she had ever felt in her entire life. It was when that smile faded that he wasn’t the man Sammi loved.
“I thought you were arrested,” Eli smirked.
“I’ve never been arrested,” Sammi responded, full of sass. “Who was on the phone?”
“Howard. The robbery was covered on the morning news. They only got good descriptions of Shay and Kodi, so they’re going to lay low for a while.”
“What about the money? I’m assuming Kodi got away with it. Did you guys split it?”
“Yeah, I already put your share in your bank account.”
“Awesome. Thanks!”
Happy to have her money and even happier for being able to avoid the topic of her whereabouts for the past twenty-four hours, Sammi got up from the table and grabbed her favorite black travel mug out of the cabinet above the sink. She got some ice out of the freezer and put it in the cup before adding what was left over in her can of Monster Energy Zero Ultra. Lost in her own thoughts of how she wanted to spend some of her latest income, she didn’t notice that Eli wasn’t moving as he kept his gaze on her.
Love Against the Law Page 2
