Hightower’s gaze shifted guiltily between where Honor softly sobbed into the sheriff’s chest, her back hitching slightly with every breath she took, to Zeke’s stony face as he murmured something inaudible against Honor’s temple. Shaking his head, he ran a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s on me, Zeke. This is on me,” he admitted apologetically.
“You better hope like all fuck that isn’t true, man,” Zeke bit off, his arms automatically tightening around the woman in his grip.
“Zeke…” Ice’s deep voice admonished from somewhere behind the sheriff. “Let the guy tell us what went on here before you start making plans to rip his head off. I doubt seeing that will help Honor at all.”
Turning to narrow irritated eyes on his big brother, Zeke’s jaw clenched. The fucker wouldn’t be so calm if it was his woman crying in his arms, he thought irritably. Frustration built within Zeke, and he knew that much like a pressure cooker, eventually he was going to blow his lid. And Ice was right; the last thing he wanted was for Honor to witness that. She was obviously shaken up enough. So, pulling his self-control around him like a cloak, he jerked his head up and down in a nod. “You’re right,” he stated with terse acceptance before turning back to the deputy that’d been responsible for Honor’s safety.
Holding his girl in the circle of his arms, he reminded himself that Hightower had done something right. Honor was distressed, but physically unharmed, and that counted for a lot in his book. Taking a deep breath, he focused on his officer again. “Sorry, Jeb. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I’ll tell you what’s goin’ on,” Honor finally spoke, tilting her tear soaked face back to look up at Zeke. “I’m moving! To Taiwan. Or Tibet! Monks are better than monsters any day of the week. Seriously, I’m open to anywhere as long as the place doesn’t have monsters breeding faster than mice!”
Ignoring his brother’s low chuckle, Zeke lifted his hands to cup her wet cheeks. “You really think I’m gonna let you leave me after last night? Not likely. Now, why don’t you or Jeb tell me what’s gone on here this morning, baby?” he suggested. “Then, I’ll see what I can do about handling it.”
Honor sighed and leaned her body against his chest again before twisting her head to look at Deputy Hightower. “He’s gonna lose his mind,” she warned the man grimly.
Jeb nodded. “Probably so, but he needs to be aware of everything, Miss Honor,” he replied before raising the red piece of construction paper up so that Zeke could see the perverted poem typed there.
“What in the actual fuck,” Zeke hissed, his eyes narrowing on the threatening words as he read.
“He knows you call me ‘Kitten’, Zeke,” Honor whispered, her arms tightening around Zeke’s waist as she squeezed her eyes closed. “He’s close.”
Curbing his rage, Zeke swallowed. “Baby, if the bastard has been in Paradise more than five minutes, he’s known for awhile now that’s what I call you. Been doin’ it since you were sixteen years old. Word’s gotten around, honey.” Turning his attention back to his deputy, Zeke stared at Jeb with stormy eyes. “How’d he slip through to get close enough to her to leave this piece of crap for her to find,” he growled, lifting his chin to indicate the poem.
“All I can figure is that he made his move when there was a semi stalled in the middle of the street,” Deputy Hightower responded, lifting an arm to point to the space where he’d parallel parked his cruiser across the road. Whoever this is that we’re dealing with here, he’s a clever fucker, Sheriff. It’s like he was just patiently waiting for an opportunity to strike. Luckily, Miss Honor was still inside with her doctor.”
“No, he meant for her to find this. It’s why he wrote it. He didn’t want her, per se. He wanted to scare her.”
“It worked,” Honor’s muffled voice claimed as she burrowed closer to Zeke. “I’m terrified. Mostly because I’m convinced my stalker is my rapist now,” she further shared.
Zeke’s heart skipped a beat at that assertion and he bent his head to hear her better. “Why? What makes you say that?”
“He calls me ‘Pussycat in that poem, and I remembered, Zeke,” she choked, pressing herself further into the curve of Zeke’s body almost like she was trying to crawl inside his skin. “I wish I could forget again, but I can’t. I remember.”
“What, baby? What’d you remember?”
“Reading those words musta triggered one of my memories because I can remember one of ‘em calling me that the night they… the night they took me. I can still hear him saying that he liked it when I clawed and spit at him,” she wept.
Burrowing one hand in her long, thick hair, his fingers tightened on her scalp as he held her against him. “Fuckin’ hell,” he cursed, meeting his brother’s dangerously glittering eyes with a wild eyed look of his own above Honor’s head. “I want this bastard, Ice. I want this fucker to hurt.”
“Steady, brother,” Ice counseled, nodding his head toward Honor. “We’ll get him.”
Zeke nodded stiffly at his sibling, silently thankful that Ice had stopped by the station to share a cup of coffee and a conversation on his day off from the construction site he was working on this week. Since Zeke had been staying with Honor again, he hadn’t seen much of his brother. Between Honor and their work, they’d both been busy. This morning Ice had stopped by the office and caught Zeke in one of his rare unoccupied moments. So, when Zeke had heard Deputy Hightower’s officer-in-need-of-assistance call, Ice had been right there, and his brother hadn’t wasted any time following Zeke to his ride.
“Why don’t I take a walk through those woods back there,” Ice went on to suggest, his shrewd eyes scanning the tree line on the west end of the parking lot. “If this asshole went through there, I might be able to track him. I find something; I’ll call it in.”
Zeke nodded. “Want me to call in Slade?” he asked, privately thinking Honor’s cousin might have better luck than Ice when it came to looking for tracks. His brother had been a sniper for the Army and was magic with a gun, but Slade was a trained Navy Seal with a specialty in reconnaissance.
Clearing his throat, Ice shook his head slightly. “Uh, Slade was a little under the weather when I talked to him last night, man.”
“What?” Zeke grunted impatiently. “I’ll tell him to pop a Tylenol then,” he growled. “This is important.”
Honor lifted her head to find Zeke shooting a harsh look at his brother. Patting a hand against his chest, she shook her head and sniffled. “I think what your brother means is that Slade tied another one on last night, Ezekiel.” Looking at Ice, she sighed. “I’m right, aren’t I? He’s drinking heavily again, isn’t he?”
Ice grimaced. “Man’s got ghosts in his past that haunt him, sweetheart. You can’t blame him for tryin’ to escape ‘em for a while.”
“I tried to get him to see that doctor that Cain saw for his PTSD,” she muttered, mentioning her brother-in-law. “He wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Cain only agreed to talk to somebody because he wanted Faith back in his life and his bed after he broke her heart while he was in Afghanistan. Slade doesn’t have that kind of incentive,” Zeke explained.
“Still…” Honor began worriedly.
“I can look in on Slade this afternoon, Honor. You focus on you right now,” Ice interrupted. “For now, though, I need to get in those woods.”
Eyes going to the pistol clipped to his brother’s side, Zeke nodded his agreement. “Call in if you need backup.”
“Will do,” Ice returned before turning to jog toward the tree line.
“While he does that, Jeb, I want you to get that fuckin’ paper bagged, tagged and sent over to the crime lab. I don’t expect to get lucky but maybe they’ll be able to find something useful on it. A fingerprint would be nice. I’ll take over watching over Honor.”
“No,” Honor denied, shaking her head as she lifted her hands to wipe her cheeks. “I’m fine. Just drop me off at the diner and go to work, Zeke.”
“Like hell. You’
ve had a fright. I’m takin’ you home and you’re gonna rest for a bit before one of those headaches start. Maybe we can head one off with an aspirin and a nap.”
“I’m going to be okay, Zeke. I don’t want to give this bastard any more power over me than he’s already gotten. Those men… they’ve stolen enough of my life away from me. I refuse to let them intimidate me into hiding. I’m better than that.”
Zeke smiled. A year ago… hell, even a month ago, he couldn’t have imagined his beautiful girl saying anything like that to him. Quite the contrary. She’d probably have hidden in her house for days if she’d felt threatened. But therapy had strengthened her resolve and while he knew she wasn’t fearless (because that would be stupid and his Honor was anything but dumb)…. she was courageous enough to get on with the business of living.
“What?” she questioned suspiciously a few seconds later when he remained silent. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I’m proud of you, baby. You’re scared, but you’re so damn brave. You know it would be easier to hide, but you’re not gonna do it.”
“I’ve wasted almost half my life hiding, Zeke. I allowed my youth to pass me by because I was afraid something else bad would happen to me. I’ve lived terrified that those remaining men would find me and finish what they started all those years ago. And now they have. Hiding didn’t stop it from happening. So, I’m done with that,” she said softly. “I might never be a risk taker, but I refuse to be a coward any longer.”
“You were never a coward, Honor.”
“What would you call it then?” she asked, looking up at him with sad eyes.
“I’d call you a survivor, baby. You survived the best way you could until you were strong enough to take a different path. Don’t you ever bash yourself for doing what you needed to do to keep yourself sane. Not unless the idea of me paddling your round ass turns you on.”
“It does not,” Honor retorted, blushing faintly.
“Then don’t badmouth yourself. It pisses me off.”
Honor rolled her eyes. “Can we go to the café now?” she questioned impatiently. “I wanna lose myself in my baking and clear my head. I feel a chocolate crème pie craze comin’ on fast.”
Dropping a kiss against her forehead, Zeke nodded. “Yeah, baby. I’ll take you to the café. But while you’re bakin’ and clearin’ that head of yours, I’ll be right there beside you in the kitchen.”
“Why?” Honor tilted her head and stared at him.
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Kitten? Right beside you is where I was always meant to be.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Saturday, July 2, 2016 – The I Don’t Care Café
10:00 am
Honor
“Then what?” Patience questioned sharply, her keen blue eyes directed at her baby sister’s face.
“Then Zeke brought me back here just like I asked him to and I made chocolate and coconut cream pies all afternoon,” Honor answered with a bored shrug as she drummed her fingers against the scarred wooden table in the corner of the restaurant.
“I don’t think that’s what Patience meant by ‘then what’, Peanut,” her eldest sister Harmony admonished sternly.
“It certainly was not,” Patience griped huffily. “I’m talking about the investigation. What’s the next damn step? What’s Zeke gonna do about the damn prick leaving poems on your car!? Do we need to hire you a full-time bodyguard. Because if Deputy Dipshit can’t keep you safe….”
“Patience, I don’t think Jeb Hightower intentionally ignored a threat to our baby sister. We’ve known him for years. He went to school with Slade, for heaven’s sake,” Faith chided, rocking her daughter gently in her arms as she shifted in the booth beside Honor. “Besides, you heard Honor. He couldn’t see her for the stalled truck in the road.”
“Then why the hell wasn’t he parked beside her in the parking lot? You know, where he could actually have done her some good!” Patience scowled, her pretty face conveying that – like her little sister – she was beyond fed up with the entire situation.
“Now, untwist those panties, Little Momma,” Aunt Orla ordered as she burped Patience’s daughter Harri against her shoulder. “All that bad temper is gonna turn these babies’ milk sour and then you will have problems,” she warned with a playful wink at the young mother.
“Then would I be able to call my boobs my own again? That is the question I want answered,” Patience countered hopefully.
“You’d take away the breast from your babies?” Faith gasped, shooting her sister a dirty look.
“Oh, boy,” Honor mumbled, looking between her two warring siblings. The debate over breast or bottle was an ongoing battle between Faith and Patience. Faith had readily embraced the whole earth mother mentality when she’d given birth to little Anna, but Patience had been a bit more reluctant. In short, her husband, Abel, and Faith had bullied her into breastfeeding. Personally, she agreed with Patience, albeit, for different reasons. In the interest of modesty and convenience, if she had a child she wanted to bottle feed. After all their mother had relied on formula to feed her children and each of them had been healthy as a horse.
“Babies can survive just fine on formula,” Patience retorted, aiming a glare across the table at her sibling. “I swear, Faith, I may never forgive you for convincing my husband to join your breastmilk brigade. I love my kids, but seriously, I miss my tequila,” she shared grumpily. Leaning forward to peck her daughter’s plump cheek, she smiled. “You understand, don’t you, Harri? Mommy just needs a teeny tiny touch of tequila.”
Orla snorted. “Don’t lie to this child, Patience Orla McKinnon Turner. Her mommy wants a whole bottle of Jose Cuervo and a straw.”
“Aunt Orla, she shouldn’t get an opinion anyway,” Patience asserted, frowning at Faith. “She’s only got one kid depending on her for sustenance. I have THREE. Do you people have any idea the toll three hungry infants have on the female breast?”
“NO, nor do I want to know,” Honor assured her sister quickly. “Let’s just all agree to disagree about this topic and agree that we all have the right to control our own bodies.”
“And boobs,” Aunt Orla added cheekily.
Clearing her throat, Harmony wrapped her knuckles against the table to get everyone’s attention. “All this talk about our ta-tas is empowering and all that jazz, but I still want to hear what’s going on with this poem. Jake showed me a copy of it last night, Honor. It was terrifying. Are you really okay?”
“Okay?” Honor scoffed. “No, I’m not okay. But there’s not a lot I can do about it. Zeke has decreed that I’m never to be out of sight from whoever is guarding me from now on. Which means, even at the café, I’ve got to have someone standing over me.”
“It’s for your own good, child,” Aunt Orla pointed out firmly. “Nobody wants to take any chances with you. Especially not your man.”
“Aunt Orla, Zeke is not mine,” Honor insisted, her face reddening. Mostly because she was beginning to feel like she was telling a bald-faced lie. Because the longer Zeke stayed with her, the closer they grew. And the closer they grew, the more it felt like they really were a couple.
Which was going to make this last therapy appointment’s homework hard to complete.
And that was the reason she was actually sitting at a table with her sisters. “You know, I didn’t actually call you all here to talk about the poem I got yesterday. There’s not much we can do about that. Ice didn’t find any trace of the guy in the woods. And Zeke sent the paper off to the crime lab to see if there are any prints on it, and so far, we haven’t heard anything one way or another. As you can see, I have protection this morning,” she said, nodding at where Harmony’s husband, Jake, sat with his business partner, Diego, by the door to the restaurant. “So my security is covered. I needed to talk to you all for an entirely different reason,” she admitted as she lowered her voice.
“Sounds juicy. I’m intrigued,” Patience murmured, settl
ing back in the booth.
Looking from one sister to another, Honor wriggled uncomfortably under the weight of three stares. “The truth is, I sort of need help, and Bree suggested I talk to you all.”
Harmony’s brow furrowed. “What’s goin’ on, Peanut?” she asked worriedly.
“I need to start going out on dates. ASAP.”
“Pardon?” Harmony yelped in surprise.
“What?” Faith blurted, her eyes bulging.
“Oh, this’ll end well.” Patience smirked.
“It’s not that earthshattering, is it?” Honor frowned around the table at her sisters.
Aunt Orla cackled as she rocked little Harri in her arms. “Lordy be! That may be the funniest thing I’ve heard in a coon’s age. Tell us, does our fine Sheriff know ‘bout this, Honor Grace? I can’t imagine he does since he’s not gone on a tear through the town square yet.”
Honor’s chin dipped as she lowered her head guiltily. “Not yet,” she admitted on a low moan. “How in the world do you tell the man that already thinks you’re his that you intend to spend time with other men?”
Harmony chuckled. “Not sure ‘bout that.”
“I’d start with having about three states between Zeke and you before you open your mouth about this one,” Patience advised.
“You know, I know that Patience and I haven’t agreed about a lot of things lately, but I gotta say, I think she’s on to something there,” Faith added with a ready nod.
Honor groaned. “This is all Bree’s fault!” she hissed. “I’m not gonna need to worry about this jerk stalking me. Her and her stupid homework assignments are gonna be the death of me!”
“Exactly why has she assigned you a dating assignment? What was her logic on this? She’s an educated woman; she does know Zeke carries a gun.”
Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4) Page 36
