by Lily Black
She stirred in her sleep, and her hair fell across her face. He brushed it back, careful to smooth it away from the bandage on her temple. Her hair slipped through his fingers like silk… or feathers. Drew grinned at that last thought.
When he was a boy, he’d stayed for a summer with his mother’s parents on their farm in Pennsylvania. They’d had a whole flock of reddish-gold and brown chickens, and he used to chase them all over the pasture, trying to catch one. Eventually, he got tired of running and started making whistles from the tall grass. That led to braiding the grass into ropes, and somewhere in the middle of that project, he kept having to shoo one particular chicken away. She took to hanging around him, and eventually, he could turn and catch her without getting up off the ground. When he did, he would snug her close and stroke the hen’s smooth, soft feathers. She didn’t seem to mind too much. She had never pecked him and was slow to move away once he’d set her down.
Stroking Alexa’s hair, Drew smiled to himself. Maybe that was what he needed to do now. Just swallow his pride and stick around, even when she acted stiff. Eventually, if he just kept things pleasant, she would stop running and accept him. Or so he hoped. Meanwhile, he would keep her safe from her stalker if it was the last thing he did.
He tucked the blanket around her a little more snugly and made sure Fieldgar was handy if she needed something to hug. Time to do a check of the house.
As he rolled away from Alexa, a flurry of yellow and orange leaves blew by, smattering against the window. In the darkening sky, they stood out like bright flecks of flame. He’d heard earlier that a storm was coming. Lots of rain was predicted, as well as high winds. Typical for this time of year, but terrible timing for Alexa and him. Nothing like the sound of a storm to cover the approach of a would-be intruder.
Starting with the master bathroom and working his way around the upstairs, he checked each window. Once he was convinced everything was secure upstairs, he stepped back into his bedroom to check on Alexa.
She stirred in her sleep. Her body stretched out under the covers, accentuating her womanly shape, and Drew felt a stirring of interest in his lower parts. He took a firm rein on his desire and tucked the blanket back around her feet. She looked so sweet, snuggled under the covers. A stranger would never guess the resilient, fighting spirit inside nor fully understand her keen mind. She really was amazing.
He waited until Alexa was back to a deep sleep then headed downstairs. He would finish the perimeter check then whip up a snack. It was almost time to wake her up so he could check for a concussion, and he wanted to get a little food into her while she was awake. Soup wouldn’t take long to make.
As he started pulling out cans of beans and chicken broth, Drew decided to turn on a nightlight in the guest bedroom and perhaps set something up in the bed. If he stacked pillows under blankets, they could be mistaken for someone asleep. His gut said the stalker was on the move somewhere in the town tonight, and over the years, Drew had learned to trust his gut.
Chapter Fifteen
Alexa woke with a sense of loss, and for a minute, she couldn’t place where she was. Then she noticed Drew’s jacket thrown over the back of a chair and one of his martial arts books on the bedside table. She was in his room, and now that she thought about it, she vaguely remembered him asking her if it was okay to put her there. He’d said something about wanting to protect her. At the time, his question had seemed inordinately silly, but that must have been the pain meds talking.
Fieldgar jumped off the chair where he’d been curled up and cat-footed across the puffy duvet to poke his nose under Alexa’s fingers. She stroked his head then cupped his face in her hands and gave him a kiss on the nose. He hated that, but she couldn’t help herself.
She heard Drew’s voice on the stairs and looked up to see him come through the doorway with a tray in his hands and the other cats trailing him. The scent of delicious chicken broth preceded him into the room.
He looked slightly harassed, but he smiled when he saw her. “I gave them a little of the chicken I put in the soup, and now they won’t stop following me and begging for more. I keep telling them it’s been soaked in salsa and they don’t want it, but they’re quite sure I’m holding out on them.”
Alexa laughed. “It’s probably true that Ragbag doesn’t really want it, but Oreo has rather gourmet tastes. She’d probably love it and forever after beg for salsa to go with her chicken. And be warned, she always gets her way in the end.”
Drew came across the room and set the tray on the bed, across Alexa’s lap. “I stand forewarned. Let’s hope none of the soup spills where she can get it.”
On the tray was a knotted wood bowl, filled with little round slices of toasted Italian bread. Alongside it was a deep dish filled with a clear soup that was chock-full of beans, chicken, and salsa. Drew had also peeled and separated an orange, which was on a plate next to the glass of water.
“This looks fantastic.” Alexa scooped up a bite of bread and tried the soup. “And tastes even better. Thank you.”
“The doctor said to wake you every hour or so for the first half of the night, and to make sure you eat when you take your pills.” Drew slid the chair with his jacket closer and pulled a pill bottle out before sitting down.
When Alexa took the pill from his hand, their fingers brushed. The little tingle that followed warmed her faster than the soup. She smiled at Drew, and he smiled back, but then he stole a piece of bread and sat back, out of her reach.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Alexa enjoyed the feeling of being warm, safe, and reasonably pain free. Drew’s company didn’t hurt, either.
Oreo jumped up on the bed and nosed through Alexa’s tray, looking for any likely bits. When Alexa slipped a bit of chicken off her spoon so the cat could have it, Fieldgar prowled over to get a taste too.
“Feeding them off your spoon, eh?” Drew asked with a chuckle. “No wonder they seem to think they’re entitled.”
Alexa struck a snotty pose. “For your information, cats always feel entitled, and there isn’t a single thing you can do about it.”
“Okay, okay.” Drew threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I don’t have a problem with that. Around my sister’s kids, I prefer the status of indulgent uncle, anyway. There will be time enough to figure out the discipline half of things when I have kids of my own.”
He leaned back in the chair, and when he spoke, his voice was musing. “I’ve always thought how great it would be to have a child of my own and guide them in their search for life’s answers. I think most kids feel they’re missing something. Being a parent ought to be a chance to explore along with them, help them identify what it is they’re seeking.”
Alexa stared at Drew, the spoon forgotten in her hand. “You want to be a dad?”
Drew shrugged. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because…” Alexa fumbled around in her brain. “Well, because you never seemed the type to—” She cut herself off. She’d almost said that he didn’t seem the type to stick around once the baby showed up.
Drew frowned. “My dad was gone a lot, and my mom left when I was ten. So yeah, maybe I don’t have lots of firsthand memories of good parenting to draw on. But that’s all the more reason I want to be a good dad someday when I get the chance.”
Alexa was struck speechless—first, because she was hit by how wrong most of her perceptions about Drew had been. And second, because she could so easily see what a great dad he would make.
Drew seemed to realize they’d drifted into uncharted conversation waters. He shifted and spoke casually into the silence. “I suppose taking care of your cats is like being a mom for you.”
Alexa’s melting heart felt a quiver go through it, not entirely unpleasant, but still… unsettling. All her friends knew how much she hoped to someday have a family of her own, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to chat with Drew about pare
nting. It felt incredibly intimate, even more so than kissing in some ways.
She put on a grin and spoke lightly. “Maybe. I guess it will depend on how much like a cat my someday-kids are. I suspect they’ll need a bit more than food, water, some cuddles, and safe places to climb.”
Drew laughed, but she was grateful he also let the subject drop. He leaned down to pick up Ragbag. “What about this guy? How come he doesn’t get a share of the helpings?”
Alexa swallowed a mouthful of Italian bread and shrugged. “He doesn’t want it. He’d rather explore and get into trouble, take the house apart or escape out the door when you least expect it.”
“A cat after my own stripe, then.” Drew’s eyes were distant as his hand stroked Ragbag’s fur. “I never understood the other kids. Wasn’t looking for the same things they were. Maybe because I moved around so much and came to like the constant change. Or maybe I just wanted adventure.”
Alexa swallowed around the lump that seemed to be blocking her throat. Drew’s eyes were moody and open, giving her a look deep inside the man that had claimed the right to protect her. “And did you find adventure?” Her voice sounded just a little funny in her ears. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
Drew’s hand stilled on the cat, and his eyes suddenly came back—deep brown and intensely focused on hers. “Yeah, I think I have.”
Alexa wanted to say something light, flippant, and change the mood. Instead, a sudden flash of unbidden images filled her mind. She remembered the first night she’d had sex with Drew, five years ago. They’d spent a lot of time rolling around while making love, but for the act itself, he’d been on top, his eyes looking straight into hers with such intensity and tenderness, she almost couldn’t breathe. The intimacy of that moment was almost shocking, like jumping feet first into cold water. But the pleasure that went with it was beyond anything she’d ever imagined.
Fieldgar bumped Alexa’s hand, looking for more chicken, and she dropped her eyes. Her face felt heated, and her throat dry. She grabbed the glass of water and used the pretense of taking her pills to gulp down half the glass.
This conversation and all the revelations she’d uncovered about Drew in the last couple days were enough to make her head spin, even without the excuse of having been recently whacked in a car accident. She looked away from Drew, down at the blanket, then around the room.
“I need… I need a few minutes,” Alexa said. “To use the bathroom and get ready for bed. Those pills are going to make me sleepy again, right?”
“Quite likely.” Drew got to his feet. “I left your pajamas folded in the bathroom, right through there.” He pointed to a door adjacent to the vanity and sinks. “Just let me know if you need anything. I’ll be close by while you’re sleeping, and I’ll need to wake you up again in an hour or two.”
Alexa nodded. Her fingers plucked at the loose threads in the duvet as she watched Drew walk to the doorway. When he’d almost closed the door behind himself, she spoke up. “Drew?”
He poked his head back in.
“My sleeping in your bed… I can’t remember what you asked me. This is just for protection reasons, right? ’Cause this room is more secure?”
Drew grinned, and for a moment, his face looked positively devilish. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ravish you in your sleep. I’ll only be in here when you need me.”
“Oh. Good.” Alexa nodded, a little annoyed with herself at the spark of arousal she felt when he grinned like that, and even more annoyed that she was maybe just a teensy bit disappointed.
“Good night, Alexa,” Drew said. “Sleep well.” He closed the door.
Alexa climbed gingerly out of the bed and made her way to the bathroom. She cringed when she saw the bruising on the side of her face that had hit the window. She looked awful. But whether she cared about that because she was naturally vain or because she planned to seduce Drew sometime tonight, she really couldn’t have said. That uncertainty seemed kind of symbolic of her general state of mind right now.
She’d gone from being a regular small-town librarian to someone who had a stalker among her friends, whom she was hiding from in the bed of a Ranger bodyguard. And on top of that, she suspected she was falling in love with her ex, who also happened to be her direct competitor. It was all just a bit much. So many of her beliefs had been toppled lately, and so much of her world had turned upside down. It was as if she’d gone for a sunny cruise but instead found herself tossing about on stormy seas. It was going to take her a bit to get her land legs back. The question was, what did she want her life to look like when she did get back on her feet? To that question, she had no answer.
Chapter Sixteen
Cold fear washed over Drew, clenching his gut and pinning his body to the chair he’d pulled close to the bed, where he sat watching over Alexa. The blue light from the laptop cast eerie shadows, reaching out long chilly fingers toward Alexa’s sleeping face. He stared at the masked face looking back at him from his laptop screen. Those eyes… they sparked a roil of dread and recognition.
After leaving the hospital, Detective Rawlings had emailed him the blurry red-light photo taken moments before the truck smashed into Alexa’s car. The bottom half of the face in the photo was obscured by a ski mask, but the area around the eyes was open, and Drew was accustomed to identifying teammates and targets from half-hidden faces. More importantly, he recognized the expression of intense cruelty in those eyes, the need for domination that twisted the attacker’s features. He’d seen those eyes with that expression before.
Taking control of the adrenaline rushing through him, Drew opened a second window on his laptop to Crouching Tiger’s website so he could double-check his suspicion. Detective Rawlings had suspected the stalker was someone connected to the school, but Drew had seen all the students who interacted regularly with Alexa, and nothing before had sparked recognition. He clicked through the Crouching Tiger website and found the pictures showing recent tests, including students who’d tested.
Stuart Odel tossed a mocking smile off the page. Stuart was a brown belt, according to the Crouching Tiger website. And based on the date of his last testing, he was overdue to test for black. Drew couldn’t believe he hadn’t made the connection before, but Stuart’s new look was as good as any disguise. The brown belt had recently transformed himself from an average-looking guy to a wannabe Tibetan monk, complete with a shaven head and long dangling mustache. He also could have passed for a South Seas pirate. Either way, he wasn’t pulling it off. The website had pictures from both before and after Stuart’s transformation, so putting them together was easy.
Drew leaned back and scrubbed his hand over his face. His eyes rested on Alexa, still peacefully sleeping. He realized that he’d seen Stuart several times since this whole thing began—at the dojo on the day of the break-in and standing in line to buy a used book at the library on the day Alexa was nearly hit. Drew hadn’t recognized him because the new look changed Stuart’s face. He’d also lost weight in the years since Drew had last seen him. Still, Drew was surprised he hadn’t made the connection, and even more surprised Stuart didn’t have a rap sheet that would have flagged Detective Rawlings’s attention.
Drew had known Stuart as a kid. Stuart’s dad had been the head custodian at the same college where Drew’s granddad was the dean. Every once in a while, Drew and Stuart would be tossed together at a college Christmas party. Drew hadn’t liked him then. He was the kind of kid who let others take the blame for his pranks. But it was near the end of the three-week leave when Drew and Alexa were dating that he’d gotten to know Stuart better than he ever wanted to.
It had been a lovely evening, and Drew was walking back to his car after dropping Alexa off at her friend’s house, where she was spending the night. He had just gotten his orders and knew his leave was up, but that evening, Alexa had been his whole focus. The moon shone as bright as a giant spotlight in the
sky, and a spat of rain earlier in the evening had cleared the air.
Just before he reached his car, Drew heard a girl sobbing. He stopped to listen and turned back toward the noise. When he reached the cluster of trees where the girl was crying, he saw a figure standing over her and heard a male voice speaking in low, ugly tones—Stuart’s voice. When the girl didn’t stop crying, Stuart drew back his foot and kicked her in the stomach.
Drew leapt forward and tackled Stuart. The fight would have been over pretty quickly, except the girl started screeching and kept getting in the way, trying to separate them. Then there was the sound of police sirens, and before Drew knew it, he and Stuart were sitting in the back of a police car, on their way to be questioned. Apparently, the girl had been gang raped earlier in the evening but had run from the scene when the cops arrived—possibly because she’d been there to buy a joint. When the officers found her with Drew and Stuart, they thought they’d caught the perpetrators.
Waiting at the police station for the next hour had to have been the lowest point of Drew’s life. He was terrified that his granddad would hear, or that by some miscarriage of justice, he would be found guilty and court-martialed, never able to accept his first mission as a Ranger. But perhaps the worst part of it was that he had to spend the hour with Stuart, who laughed at the whole situation. He said he knew the girl would set them free because she was his girlfriend and he was the only man who would take her now. He also didn’t see why she was upset about the rape because she’d offered her body to men in return for drugs or cash in the past—he’d even arranged it for her once or twice. So what if she got a bit more than she bargained for this time? What was the big deal?
