by Celia Kyle
Instead, she swayed as she knelt and prayed the room would stop spinning. Pain did not-fun things to her head.
Bryson lifted his head and snarled. “Do you know who I am?”
An asshole?
“Mr. Davies, I know you’re about to be cuffed until we straighten things out. On your knees, hands up.” A growl filled the cop’s words, sending a happy shiver to her pink bits.
God, if a cop about to arrest her got her hot, it’d been way too long since she’d gotten laid.
Finally Bryson did as ordered. Large warm hands encircled one wrist and then the other, wrenching them to her lower back. She sucked in a harsh breath at the pain zinging through her. She coughed and fought for air.
“Quit resisting.” The words were garbled, the cop’s mouth next to her ear.
“Not.”
He pulled harder and she reacted, jerking back from the pain he caused. “Damn it.”
A cuff wrapped around her wrist, tightening until she thought she’d lose her hand. Her muscles reacted on instinct, twitching and spasming.
“Stop.” He yanked on her other arm a little harder, forcing her into position.
Agony pulsed through her, assaulting her from inside out, battering her with the pain from her injuries. She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the tears that threatened. She wasn’t about to turn into a sobbing girl.
Another set of booted feet echoed in the hallway, the owner moving at a brisk pace toward them. He dodged the cop holding her and came into view.
“Martin!”
He swung toward her. “Lauren?” He shook his head and sighed. “What’d you do—?”
“Anna’s in the kitchen. She needs an ambulance.”
The man holding her ignored her outburst and wrapped a hand around her bicep, yanking her to her feet. “C’mon. You have the right to remain silent…”
Lauren tuned out mister-not-so-sexy-anymore and focused on Martin. “Hurry.”
When Martin spun away she released a relieved breath. Martin would take care of Anna.
She spared a glance for Bryson. He was in the same shape as her, hands cuffed behind his back and moving stiffer than normal. Good. She still hoped she had broken something.
The cop ushered her toward the front door and onto the porch. She stumbled on the steps, but his firm grip held her steady, keeping her upright when she would have fallen.
She hadn’t spared him a glance, but she didn’t need to. His voice was deep—sexy—and his cologne was all smoky with a hint of sweet. The man could look like a dog as long as he never stopped talking.
He led her to a nearby cruiser and helped her into the back.
That’s when she got her first look at him.
Dayum. He was tall, gorgeous, and dead sexy. His shortly cropped brown hair matched the typical cop’s haircut, but the rest of him was no typical cop. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, instead he had a precinct shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, heavily muscled chest, and flat stomach. His brown eyes drew her to his face, with his chiseled features and angular lines. She imagined him to be strong, steadfast in his beliefs… immovable.
“Do you understand these rights as they have been explained to you?”
She tore her gaze from his lips and took him in as a whole. “What?”
Movement near the house grabbed her attention. Martin carried an unmoving bundle from the home, the slight package wrapped in a familiar quilt.
“Martin!” Lauren didn’t miss the anger, the rage, filling the officer’s face. “Anna?”
The hot cop, getting less hot by the second, stepped in front of her. “Ma’am, do you understand these rights as they have been explained to you?”
Chapter Two
The woman paced. No, not “the woman.” Van glanced at the paperwork in his hands. Lauren Evans. Twenty-seven. Five-five. Hundred eighty-five pounds. Blonde hair, blue eyes.
The camera captured the station’s holding cell and he saw Lauren pace. One arm across her stomach and pressed to her side, she walked from one end of the room to the other and back again. Never slowing, never increasing speed, she simply walked. Every other turn or two, there was a hitch in her step, a small stutter, and then she fell into the same rhythm.
They’d placed her in the holding cell while Bryson Davies was questioned, which left her alone.
His footsteps had faltered when he’d deposited her in the large space. His bear objected to leaving her there. Heavily. But she was alone, no one else with her while Davies was questioned.
He reasoned with his bear. She’d been hurt when left on her own. Wasn’t it better if she was protected by the bars while the male who hurt her was elsewhere?
It grudgingly agreed and settled just outside the edge of his human consciousness. Its big body far enough back to let his other half do his job, but close enough to rush to her aid if needed. Fucking bear.
Lauren paused in her pacing and turned her head, gaze darting toward the room’s door, which gave him another look at her fine features. Her plump lips, delicate eyebrows, little upturned nose.
He could stare at her forever.
Air in his lungs whooshed out in a rapid exhale and he sucked in a breath, coughing as it filled him.
Fuck no.
The click of a lock reached him followed by the door swinging wide to admit Martin. “Officer Abrams?”
Always with respect. His name was always preceded by his title.
Officer.
Enforcer.
Never only his last name like any other cop on the force.
I’m not any other cop, am I? Sometimes he wished he was.
“Yes?” He couldn’t tear his gaze from the woman, from Lauren. He’d touched her, enjoyed her silken skin beneath his fingertips as he cuffed her and led her to the cruiser.
At the scene, he’d been intent on securing everyone so they could figure out what cluster fuck they’d walked into. Cuffing her was his priority.
But then…
Peaches and cream and sex on two legs.
Then it’d taken everything in him to get through the damn Miranda rights and keep his bear at bay at the same time.
The damn beast roared at him when he slapped the cuffs on her. The next time he’d need them would be to secure her to his bed. And hadn’t that thought scared the fuck out of him. The bear had very specific ideas about Lauren Evans—handcuffed and naked.
Martin shuffled closer and the scent of the man’s unease reached Van before his physical body. “Have you spoken with Lauren yet?”
The bear objected to Martin’s familiarity, but Van mentally collared it and shoved it back into its cage. “No, I’m letting Miss Evans calm a little before questioning her.”
He refused to admit that he enjoyed looking at her. That instead of asking her a few questions and letting her go, he wanted to watch her ass sway as she paced. He liked the long, loose blonde curls cascading down her back and the way her eyes flashed blue fire at him. Her curves were more than a handful and his cock really liked that.
“Oh.” Martin shook his head.
“What do you mean ‘oh’?”
The officer rubbed the back of his neck, kneading the muscles. “Well, Lauren is… she…” He sighed. “Did someone at least tell her Anna’s okay?” Martin’s pain drifted to him on the cool air. “She’s gonna have scars, but otherwise she’s fine. If Lauren hadn’t…” Martin’s eyes shined a little brighter in the dim light. Interesting.
Martin had gone to the hospital with Anna Davies. The bear was intimately acquainted with the staff there. Martin had been attacked and left for dead by the same man who’d kidnapped Ty’s son and injured the Itan’s mate. Initially, he’d been assumed dead, but thankfully a clan member found him before he passed away on the side of the road. The thought of death had Van wondering what could have happened to Lauren had they arrived any later.
“Miss Davies will make a full recovery?”
Martin coughed and drew in a quick breath.
Damn interesting.
“She’s good. She’ll, uh, be staying with me until Lauren gets her head out of her ass.”
A growl burst from his lips, the rolling sound filling the room for a split-second before he was able to cut it off. Martin took a giant step back, his gaze fixed on the floor while his head slightly tilted to the side. The man swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing along his neck, and the aromas of his unease smacked him.
Damn it. Why the hell was he getting so pissed?
“Sorry, Enforcer.” His voice was low, placating.
Van shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. Long day I guess.” He wasn’t going to mention he’d only been awake for three hours. “What’s going on with Miss Evans?”
“Well… it’s just…”
“Spit it out, Martin.” His bear wanted him in that room with her. Beside her. Touching her. Holding her.
“This is a human issue, sir. I’m happy to—”
Van gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to hear that again, damn it. He wasn’t that much of a prick, was he? “Spit. It. Out.”
Martin’s shoulders slumped. “You’re not gonna like it, but remember human laws are different.”
“Just tell me.”
Martin sighed and gave him the information he needed.
Van listened with half an ear, his attention split between the bullshit the man fed him and the pacing woman filling the screen. The bear paced with her, growing more agitated the more he heard. The man’s voice trembled, the wavering becoming more pronounced the longer he spoke. It was then he realized his hands weren’t human any longer; fur coated his arms, and a deep growl lingered in his chest.
Van cracked his neck, rolling his head and shrugging his shoulders in an effort to throw off his beast’s reaction to the news.
But it wasn’t enough, wasn’t what his animal needed to calm. For some fucked up reason, it wanted Lauren. It wanted to be near her, scent her, touch her, taste her…
He was so fucked.
“Enough, Martin. Give me the agreement.” The bear wasn’t quite so evident in his voice any longer.
The officer handed over the page. Short, sweet, and to the point.
Apologize and all is forgiven.
Van turned his attention to Lauren, to the black and white image of her curved body, and agitation filled his taut muscles.
This wasn’t going to go well.
*
Lauren weaved between worry and anger. No, rage. Worry for Anna and rage at the asshole, Bryson. Well, a bit was left for the hot cop who arrested her. Except that was tempered by a good dose of OMG-he’s-gorgeous.
Stupid libido.
Stupid dry spell.
She clutched her side a hair tighter, holding her ribs steady. The added pressure hurt, yet relieved the throbbing pain. As soon as she got out and hid Anna somewhere safe, she’d go to the urgent care clinic. They could give her something to take the edge off the pulsating ache. Not enough to knock her out, she needed to remain alert for Anna.
The asshole had done this too many times, had beaten Anna and then walked away free as a bird. Though, she accepted a good hunk was because Anna never pressed charges.
Anna had been hit by a lot of kitchen cabinets in the last two years.
But after the last time, she’d convinced the woman that if she wanted to give Bryson one last chance, it needed to be the last. If she didn’t get out soon, he’d kill her. Each beating was always worse than the last and Lauren knew it was a matter of time.
She paused in her pacing and glared at the doorway, willing someone to come in and give her news, let her out, something.
It remained empty.
Dick cops. Dick laws. Dicks, dicks, dicks.
Though, that one guy was very, very nice to look at.
With a shake of her head she got back to moving. Walking kept her mind off the pain in her side and the pounding in her back.
The heavy thump of booted feet on thin carpet reached her and she stopped and turned toward the room’s entrance. A second later, her hot arresting officer came into view.
Still tall. Still had muscles that looked carved from stone. Still had brown eyes that screamed sex and unbending strength. Still sexy as hell.
“When am I getting out of here?” She made her way to the bars, willing herself not to lean against them to keep upright.
Nothing good came from revealing weaknesses.
The cop didn’t say anything, didn’t even acknowledge she’d spoken. Instead, he went to the lone desk in the corner and snared the chair. Grabbing the back, hooking his fingers into the handle, he carried it toward her. He carefully lowered it to the ground at the opposite end of the cell near a bench bolted to the wall. Silent, he focused on her, a single eyebrow raised as he tipped his head toward the seat.
She glared at him, pinching her lips. Damn man, stupid cop. Thought he could just order people around… She wasn’t about to address the fact that cops, by their position alone, were allowed to do that.
When he still didn’t utter a sound, she huffed and stomped toward him. Well, stomped twice and then froze. She gasped as pain assaulted her. She braced herself against the bars, gripping one rod as she fought for breath.
“Shit, that was a mistake,” she wheezed and waited for the agony to subside. She sucked in a breath and then forced it back out. “That was, too.”
Breathing, moving, living was bad.
“Fuck,” he spat the curse and rose from his chair, rushing toward the desk. He grumbled as he dug through drawers. A handful of garbled words reached her. Things like “human,” “stupid,” and “weak.”
“Fuck you, I’m fine.” She pushed herself vertical. She wasn’t stupid, she wasn’t weak. She was human, but she couldn’t figure out how that became a curse. What the hell else would she be but human?
“You’re not fine.” He yanked on another drawer.
“You’re right. But let’s get this over with and then I can get checked out.”
He paused long enough to glare at her. “You’ll—”
“Get looked at after I’m released and take care of Anna.” Crap, Anna. Here she was ogling the hot cop while her friend… “How is Anna? Is she okay? Where’s the dickhead?”
“Miss Evans,” he looked away from her, focusing on the wall.
Not good.
“Missus Davies is going to make a full recovery. I can’t give you further details.” He paused and took a slow breath. “We’ve spoken with both Mister and Missus Davies.”
Lauren’s stomach dropped. She knew that serious tone, she’d heard it often enough these last two years. “No, she’s not going back to him. She—”
The cop shook his head. “No, she’s not. Martin went with her to the hospital and indicated he’d take her home until you’re released and able to care for her.”
Okay. Not bad so far.
“So, when are you releasing me?” She clutched the bar. Pain pumped through her, but she needed to be there for Anna.
He still wouldn’t look at her.
“Mister Davies is pressing charges.”
She furrowed her brow. “For what? Who? His wife? The wife he beat to hell?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You.”
“Me?” she roared and then regretted the move. Fuck a duck that hurt.
“For assault.” He looked to her. His brown eyes filled with anger. “Unless you sign a formal apology and confidentiality agreement. You’ll never breathe a word about him or his marriage to Anna Davies.”
“Apology?” she hissed the word, careful of her injuries. “For what? Saving Anna?” Anna. “What about Anna? Isn’t she pressing charges against him? Why the hell isn’t he in here with me?” At least she could kick the crap out of him in the cell. Okay, she’d get the crap kicked out of her again, but she could get in a good punch or two.
She saw it then, in his eyes, in his posture. It seemed like a wave of anger spread from him and consumed the room.
&n
bsp; “No. She has to press charges. She promised. She promised.” They were going to put him behind bars. Mayor of Grayslake or not, he wasn’t going to do this to anyone else.
“In exchange for a quiet, uncontested divorce, she agreed to not say a word to anyone.”
Pressure built behind her eyes, a precursor to tears, and she squeezed them shut. “He’s not going to let her go. He says that now, but he’ll kill her. One way or another, he will.”
“I know.” The word so quiet yet echoing with its intensity.
“Why isn’t my word good enough? I’ll testify.”
His approach was slow, boots barely making a sound as he neared her. “Did you see him strike her?”
His scent, all musk and man, reached out to her and she found herself swaying toward the bars. “No.”
“Between the two of you, who swung first?”
“Maybe I need a lawyer.” She licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry.
“This is me and you. Van and Lauren. Not the cop and Miss Evans. Who swung first?”
Why the hell did she trust him? Why was she thinking of answering his question? Hell, she didn’t know why, but it didn’t matter.
“Me.”
And she wouldn’t ever apologize for it. In all honestly, she was sorry she hadn’t had more time with the man. True, she ended up hurt but so had he.
“Which means you’re on the hook for assault if he changes his mind.” The shift of cloth, the rustling of his uniform indicated he eased even closer. “You can’t watch over Anna if you’re here, Lauren. It was a good thing you did, but now she needs her friend.”
Lauren fought for calm. He was right. She knew he was, but that didn’t make swallowing the bitter pill any easier.
“Fine. But I want something from him, too. He signs a similar document. As of today, right this second, I’ve never hit him, snarled at him, or done anything to him, his home, or possessions.” She forced her eyes open and stared at the cop who both intrigued and scared the hell out of her. “As of right now, he’s never even heard of Lauren Evans.”
The cop—Van—grinned and the move changed him, transformed him from hard ass cop to sinfully sexy man. “What’d you do to him?”
