Unbound (Crimson Romance)

by Nikkie Locke

  “You’ve been messing up the plan,” he said. “It was simple enough. Not difficult. An idiot could have handled it. Then you go messing it up. You’re making me look incompetent.”

  “Sorry?”

  The look he shot her made her shut her mouth. The bad fluorescent lighting in the bathroom flashed off the silver of his knife. She made the decision then to scream. She wasn’t stupid. This man would kill her given half a chance, but he really wanted to hurt Dean. The threat at the diner, the way Burke had worked out who this man was really stalking when. This man wanted Dean dead.

  Screaming would bring Dean running. This man in front of her might get his chance to go after Dean, but with the other guys here, how much damage could he really accomplish? Better a confrontation here and now with the guys to help him than this man catching Dean alone somewhere, right?

  She would like to get a little further away before she made her move, though. She didn’t particularly feel like getting murdered while she waited on the guys to show up. She’d never make it out the window. It was plenty big enough and was even open, but she knew she couldn’t run across the bathroom and pull herself out the window before the man caught up with her.

  The man paced across the small path in front of the door, blocking her way out. Sliding between his legs wasn’t an option. Besides, he had a knife. She didn’t want to get within arm’s reach.

  She heard the thunder of feet approaching. Someone was coming.

  The man moved toward her. She kicked out at him, causing her to tip backwards. She felt the slice of the knife on her shin. As she was trying not to let her head slam into the floor, the man kept moving. He launched himself over her. She watched from the floor as he grabbed the windowsill and flung himself out the window. He was out of sight when Dean burst through the door.

  “He went out the window,” she yelled, hoping someone besides Dean would go after him. “He has a knife!”

  Burke, Luke, and Kalvin raced past the bathroom door in the narrow hall. She heard the back door slam against the building as it was thrown open.

  Dean glanced out the window, but didn’t stop moving into the bathroom. He dropped to his knees beside her.

  He reached out to touch her face, but hesitated. “What hurts?”

  She flung herself into his arms. He held onto her tightly.

  Someone else hurried into the bathroom. She recognized Wade, the fire chief for the village’s volunteer fire department. She knew he had been in the crowd outside waiting for the meeting to start.

  “Is she okay?” he asked Dean.

  “Call an ambulance.”

  “Already did. They’re on their way.” Wade moved toward them. “Payten, are you hurt?”

  Dean loosened his hold on her, but she refused to let go of him. If anything, she clung more tightly.

  “Payten, I need to look at you. Your nose is bleeding and so is your leg. You’re going to be fine. I just need to look at them.”

  She looked down at her leg next to Dean’s. There was blood on his jeans. She let go of him to rub at it. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding!”

  He looked at it before grabbing her hands. “Payten, I’m not bleeding. I’m not hurt. You are.”

  She shook her head. He wasn’t hurt. She knew he wasn’t. The man had gone out the window before Dean made it into the room. But —

  “He said if I made a sound he’d kill you.”

  “Payten, I’m fine.”

  “I was going to scream any way,” she told him.

  Dean nodded. “You should have. The boys would have kept us safe.”

  “That’s what I thought. The boys would have kept you safe,” she said, rubbing at the blood on his jeans.

  “Payten, look at me. I’m fine.”

  She let out a shuddering breath before burying her face against his chest. She let out a yowl and jerked back. Gently, she touched the blood under her nose.

  “Well, I’m not,” she bit out.

  Dean choked out a laugh and hugged her gently.

  She clung to him. “I was so scared.”

  Pulling back, he looked her in the face. “So was I. I love you, Payten. I was so fucking scared I wasn’t going to get a chance to tell you.”

  His hand cupped her cheek gently. The pressure of his hand made her nose throb, but she didn’t care. His thumb slid across her lower lip.

  She didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Wade saved her.

  “Jesus, Dean. I can’t believe you’re telling her now.” He nudged Dean away from her to examine her injuries. “You’re going to want the paramedic to check that out, but I’d say your nose isn’t broken. I’m more worried about the leg.”

  Dean held her hand while Wade gently parted the opening in her jeans the knife had left behind. Underneath, her skin was laid open and bleeding.

  “Might need stitches,” Wade warned her. “It doesn’t look too bad, though. Not too deep. It could have been worse.”

  She looked at Dean. “You’re really not hurt?”

  He nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “Can I tell you something?” she asked.

  “Anything.”

  Payten had no idea what she had meant to tell him. The scene around her was too much. The crackle of Wade’s dispatch radio echoed in the tiny bathroom. The feel of Dean gently stroking the hand he was holding was magnified a hundred times in her mind. The sight of her blood on his jeans shook her to her very core. That man meant to kill Dean, and that was too painful to consider.

  “I love you too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dean decided he had spent way too much time in his father’s office in the past two weeks. He paced while Payten sat in the orange chair he hated so much.

  “How could he get away?” he muttered angrily.

  “He had a head start,” she reminded him.

  “They should have caught him.”

  She fiddled with the bracelet on her arm. “Are you mad that you didn’t chase him?”

  “What?” He stopped pacing and looked at her.

  “It’s my fault you didn’t go after him. I should have told you to go.”

  “No, sweetheart.” He moved to her and crouched beside her chair. When he held out his hand, she took it. “I’m not mad that I didn’t go. I wouldn’t have left you alone there.”

  She shrugged. “Wade was there.”

  “Would you have rather I left you with Wade and chased him?”

  “No. I’m glad you stayed, but you’re angry.”

  He stretched to kiss her cheek. “I’m not angry. I’m frustrated we didn’t catch him, but I’m glad you’re okay. If we had caught him, though, this would have been over, and you would be safe. That’s what matters to me.”

  “I should have screamed sooner.”

  “He had a knife, Payten. You were the only one in that bathroom. You had to look out for you first.”

  “I was going to scream when I first saw him,” she told him. “He said he would kill you if I made any noise. I was terrified he really would. It took me a bit to remember the guys were with you.”

  He pulled her into his arms. So close, he thought. Way too close.

  “We’re going to keep you safe, sweetheart. No matter what it takes,” he assured her.

  She pulled away to look at him. “I’m worried about you. How did you not get that from the ‘I was afraid he’d kill you’ bit? You keep rushing in to save me, Dean, and he’s going to get who he really wants.”

  “How could I live with myself if I didn’t?”

  “Think about it from my point of view. What happens if he does kill you? You rush in, save me, and die in the process. How do I live with myself? It’d be my fault. How would I live without you?”

  He couldn’t stop the happiness he felt from reaching his mouth. Christ, she loved him. Did it get any better than that? Well, it could get better if there weren’t a homicidal manic after them. Aside from that, though, it was great.

  She smacked his arm. �
��That isn’t something to smile about!”

  “You love me,” he reminded her. “You said you love me.”

  “I won’t love you if you’re dead!”

  The door to the office opened. Burke and Dean’s dad stepped into the office.

  “Well?”

  His father frowned at his sharp tone.

  “What did you find?” Payten asked.

  “Not a lot,” Carl replied.

  “Luke, Kalvin, and I chased him, but he had a car parked by the post office. I gave Rykers the part of the license plate number we managed to read from the car,” Burke continued.

  “I already heard this,” Dean answered.

  “I didn’t,” Payten said. “I was busy with the ambulance people and Officer Smith.”

  “Smith?” Burke asked.

  “She took her statement,” Carl answered.

  “Got it. The car came back registered to Elizabeth Nash. She’s sixty-five years old and lives over in Jonesborough. We called her, and when she checked the driveway, what do you know? Her car was missing,” Burke explained.

  “Does she have anything to do with this?” Dean asked.

  Carl shook his head. “Highly unlikely.”

  “So where do we go from here?” Payten asked.

  “The uniform definitely matched the guard uniforms from the prison,” Burke said. “I recognized it from my visit.”

  “A guard?” Dean asked. “How is that possible?”

  “I have no idea,” Burke answered. “It makes sense though. A guard could have smuggled a cell in for Peterson to call you. It’s possible Peterson is calling the shots on this.”

  “Holy shit,” Dean breathed.

  “I should have listened to you,” Carl told him. “I’m sorry. We could have spent more time looking in that direction if I had.”

  Dean shook his head. Shock that Peterson — the man from his nightmares — could hurt the ones he loved even from prison made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach.

  “Where do we go from here?” Payten asked.

  “The Chief and I are headed to the prison now to pick up staff records. The warden is pissed. He runs a tight ship and is pissed one of his guards could be involved.”

  • • •

  Dean nodded. “That makes sense.”

  “You two are going to stay the night downstairs. Rykers is going to hang here with you,” Burke said.

  “You’re not putting her in a cell,” Dean objected.

  “Dean, use your head. It’s a basement,” Burke reminded him. “No windows. No doors. No way to creep in. We’re not locking you in. We’re keeping him out. There are bunks down there. Sleep here tonight.”

  Dean looked at Payten. “We’ll both be safe here?” she asked.

  “It’s the safest place for you,” Burke answered.

  Payten took Dean’s hand. “We’ll stay, then.”

  “Good,” Burke said. “The chief and I are out of here. Do what Rykers says.”

  “Wait,” Payten said. “My clothes are all yucky. What am I supposed to sleep in?”

  Burke rolled his eyes. Dean frowned at him.

  “I’ll have Smith or Chase bring something over. Does that sound good?” Burke asked.

  She nodded.

  “See you later, then,” Burke said, moving from the room.

  Dean watched his father struggled to come up with something to say. “You’ll be fine.”

  Not the most reassuring thing, but better than nothing, I guess.

  Payten stood up and crossed the room. She moved her injured leg very gently, but she was at least still moving. The paramedic had cleaned and butterflied her cut. The cut hadn’t been deep enough to require stitches, but her slow movements indicated that walking with it hurt.“Thank you, Chief. And, umm… Sorry I yelled at you the other day. I haven’t had a chance to apologize for that yet.” She kissed his cheek, smiled at him, and followed Burke into the main area of the police station.

  Dean and his dad watched her progress.

  “Dad?”

  Carl looked over at him. “Yes?”

  “I can’t lose her, Dad. I can’t.”

  “You won’t. I promise.”

  • • •

  “We’re both supposed to fit on that?”

  He looked at the cot and grinned. “You want on top or bottom?”

  “Of what? It’s not like they’re bunk beds.” She glanced around the basement at the other cells.

  He knew what she’d see. Each cell had a cot in it, but none was any bigger than the one in the cell where they were sleeping.

  He pulled her back against him, his fingers toying with the bow of the drawstring pants Smith had brought her. “Do you want to be on top of me or under me?”

  He felt the shiver that went down her spine. She tilted her head to grin at him. He could see the moment when she realized he wasn’t teasing her.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “I just got stabbed,” she protested even as he kissed a line along her shoulder. “We’re sleeping in a jail cell so some psycho can’t kill us both in our sleep, and you want to have sex?”

  He turned her toward him. With little encouragement, she leaned in against him. He could feel the heat of her body through the lightweight pajamas. The smell of her engulfed him and grounded him in that moment, despite his mind’s insistence on seeing her bleeding on the bathroom floor of the city hall.

  He hadn’t lied to her when he told her he had been scared. When he figured out what Ms. Clarke was saying, he had been terrified. The run to the bathroom had seemed like hours. Thoughts that he would be too late clouded his mind and made it seem like he was running through quicksand.

  “I need you,” he told her.

  He needed to know she was really all right. He needed it, but didn’t know how to tell her.

  She didn’t need him to tell her, though. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until the choking fear in his throat faded. She lifted her head and nipped lightly at his lower lip.

  “I want to be under you,” she said.

  • • •

  Even as she’d protested, she’d known it wouldn’t take much convincing for him to get her into bed. That was exactly where she wanted to be.

  Bridgett had asked her if she loved him that morning. She hadn’t known the answer. When the man told her he’d kill Dean, she realized she did. She loved him more than she’d thought possible.

  When she’d heard the footsteps in the hall, she’d panicked. She knew it would be Dean running through the door, and she knew what the man wanted to do to him. When the man flung himself out the window, she’d never been more relieved.

  She wanted her hands on Dean. She needed to show him how much she loved him and to feel his love in return. She wanted to be in bed with him.

  It didn’t take him long to get her there. He gently helped her out of her clothing before he tore off his own, throwing them all around the cell in his haste. He maneuvered her onto the small cot. To keep her injured leg from getting jostled, he had her bend her leg at the knee and set her foot on the floor.

  He knelt in the space between her spread knees. “This is familiar,” he teased.

  She grinned up at him. “Next time, I want the top.”

  He laughed. “That’s definitely doable.” Leaning down, he nibbled at her neck until she giggled.

  “Dean,” she squeaked.

  He ignored her protests and continued to tickle her. She reached down and grabbed him. He made a harsh sound of pleasure and stopped tickling her. Instead, he held himself still over her as she explored him.

  She loved the way he felt. Warm, soft skin over firm hardness. Gently wrapping her hand around him, she stroked several times. He moaned. Taking delight in the sound, she continued stroking. Her other hand skimmed over the strong muscles of his back while she explored what she could reach of his chest with her mouth.

  “Sweetheart,” he murmured as he pulle
d himself away. “You’re killing me.”

  She pulled him down into a long kiss. “Please.”

  He slid his hand between them. She knew he found wet flesh. Tenderly, he stroked his fingers inside.

  “Dean,” she whispered. “I want you. Now.”

  Taking her at her word, he moved his hand aside to push deep inside her with one stroke. She whimpered at the sensation. He stretched her as he filled her. The fullness she felt with him inside her drove her wild.

  It didn’t take long for her to reach her finish. Thrust after slow thrust wound her tighter. Tighter and tighter and tighter, until everything around her disappeared except Dean. Until nothing mattered but him. Until she exploded in a thundering rush. He came with her, spilling into her in a rush of added fire.

  • • •

  When Payten could breathe again and wasn’t seeing stars, she nudged Dean. He grunted at her. She nudged him again.

  “One more minute,” he complained.

  “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  He nuzzled his face against her neck. “I don’t want you to go.”

  She laughed. “You just don’t want to move.”

  “That too.”

  When he didn’t move for several long minutes, she thought he might have fallen asleep. “Hey.”

  He grunted.

  “Don’t you dare fall asleep on top of me.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Dean! I mean it.”

  “I’m awake,” he muttered.

  “I think we should talk if you aren’t going to move.”

  Again, he didn’t say anything.

  “Do you really love me?”

  “What?” He jerked up, propping himself on one arm over her. “What did you ask me?”

  “Do you really love me?”

  “Of course I do. You think I say that to every woman I sleep with?”

  “How many woman have you slept with?”

  He stared down at her. “Seriously?”

  She shrugged. “You brought it up.”

  He sat up and pulled her up to sit next to him. “I take that very seriously. I’ve never told another woman I love her.”