Fight For Me

by Hayden Braeburn

  “Of course you did,” Cam said through a giggle. “I should've guessed with the color.”

  “Kat likes green, too!” Cassidy protested.

  “Yeah, but it's your favorite color.”

  Her little sister might be onto something there. She'd just opened her mouth to spit out a pithy retort when she heard a car door slam, and she peeked at her phone screen. Mason was punctual—the bride and groom had arrived. Cam was around the corner like a shot. “Kat! Come back here with Cass and Mom and me!”

  Mom? Mom wasn't with them, Cassidy thought with a shrug. She let Cam be the welcoming committee, staying hidden until she heard Kat put the pieces together, ending with a breathless, “Wait... Just wait,” before she made her way from behind the house, flanking Kat on the opposite side of her sister. “Nope, no time for waiting. You don't want to be late for your own wedding, do you?”

  “I hate being late,” Kat replied quickly. Her black hair whipped around her when she turned to face to Cassidy, eyes wide with shock. “What?”

  “Oh, there's a party tonight, but first there's a wedding!” Cam exclaimed.

  Cassidy held back a laugh when Kat's bright blue eyes widened even further. “Oh my God.”

  ~*~

  Dylan limped into the room Charles Everett indicated to find Mason and Caleb laughing. “I'm here,” he announced unnecessarily.

  “Don't look so happy, Black. Seeing as I owe my life to you and all, I wanted you to stand up there with me.”

  He understood that, and he was happy to do it, but he'd rather face down another crazy woman than spend the next six hours in a monkey suit. “A tux, Everett? I could've handled a suit, or, hell, a uniform...” he trailed off. What good was complaining? He was already wearing the damn thing, anyway.

  “You'll never have to wear it again,” Mason promised.

  “This is supposed to make me feel better?” Dylan muttered, causing Caleb to sputter with laughter.

  The doctor's eyes narrowed as he turned to Dylan. “How's physical therapy coming?”

  “Bullets tear muscle,” Dylan answered. “Muscles heal.” He felt the weight of the other man's gaze and wondered what he was thinking. Considering the last time they'd seen each other, he wasn't excited to answer whatever question came out of Cassidy's younger brother's mouth.

  “How's Cass treating you?”

  Like a damn china doll. “I'm wearing out my welcome.”

  “I'm sure things are getting easier. Before long you'll be driving and chasing bad guys.”

  “I don't think I'll be chasing any perps for a while,” Dylan responded. He wouldn't be doing much of anything until he had control of his body. He'd been shot once before, that bullet blowing through the muscle in his left calf two years ago. The pain then had been excruciating, but the two bullets this time made that one feel like child's play. While his major organs had been spared, he not only had muscle damage, but nerve damage affecting his entire right side. He grimaced. Too bad he was right handed—or had been. He would do everything the same if he could go back, but now he had to rethink his life plan. Not that he'd had much a life plan after Iraq. He shook his head as if to shake the dark thoughts free. “Let's go stand up for your brother,” he said to end the conversation.

  Caleb tugged on the lapels of his tuxedo. “After you, Superman.”

  Dylan forced himself to smile. He was many things, but he wasn't a superhero. A chill ran down his spine. He hoped Cassidy—and everyone else—was safe today. If someone was trying to silence his prosecutor, now would be a good time to attack, with all her family in the same place. He clenched his working fist. He would deal with whatever was thrown at them, no matter the cost.

  ~*~

  Cassidy held Kat's bouquet along with her own as the bride and groom exchanged rings, happy she'd worn waterproof eye makeup. It was impossible to keep the tears from falling, no matter how many times she blinked. She sighed. She'd never seen a couple more deeply in love than Kat and Mason, her own parents not withstanding. She'd always known her brother was a good man, but to hear him promise his undying love to Kat had been moving. Kat's vows, although obviously less rehearsed, were just as touching. Kat professed that Mason was all things—tough yet thoughtful, patient yet kick-ass, and Cassidy couldn't help but look at Dylan, his eyes snaring her in their golden heat. Her heart kicked, her cheeks flushed, and she forced herself to tear her gaze from his before she embarrassed herself. Good Lord, the man was potent.

  If Dylan kept looking at her like that, she was afraid she'd walk across the ceremony and offer herself to him in front of God and everyone. She closed her eyes. She was here to honor her brother, not have eye sex with a groomsman. Oh, but his gaze was full of promises she wished he could keep. She watched him subtly shift on his feet and was rewarded with a glimpse of the tent in his tuxedo pants. Served him right; she was standing there in a damp thong and there was nothing she could do about it either.

  ~*~

  “I can't believe I doubted her,” Cassidy confessed later.

  “You had every right to be leery.”

  “Maybe, but am I that jaded and cynical I can't believe someone would love my brother because he's honestly a wonderful man? Do I have to assume the worst in everyone?”

  Dylan smiled down at her. “You didn't assume the worst of me.”

  “Yes, I did,” she argued. “You about ran me over in the bank hallway, and I laid into you.”

  “What did you think, honestly?” Dylan asked, curious about her answer. He remembered thinking she would be pretty if not for the bitchy attitude, and he'd been right in spades. She was an incredible looking woman, her face expressive, her eyes dark, her lush curves real. His hand itched to touch her, and he tucked it in his pocket.

  “Honestly? I didn't have time to be knocked over and then ignored by tall, dark men.”

  “Just tall and dark?” he asked with a smirk. “I don't get the third one?”

  “I'm sure you thought I was a bitch.”

  He tilted his head slightly. “A pretty one, at least.”

  “And you were a handsome jerk,” she agreed with a laugh. When she looked up, her eyes had darkened with heat. “Kiss me, Dylan,” she whispered.

  She didn't have to ask twice. He danced them to a corner away from the rest of the family, pressed her back to the wall and captured her lips. He'd wanted to do this for hours, days, weeks, and finally had her lips on his again, his tongue in her mouth. He savored her taste, her flowery scent, her arms clutching him to her. God, how he wanted this woman, but not here, not now. He had to stop or take her right her against a wall in her parent's house, at her brother's wedding. It was with great effort he pulled his mouth from hers, smiling at how thoroughly loved she looked. He'd shifted her fancy hair do, her lips were swollen with his kisses, her dark eyes were glassy with lust, and all he wanted to do was dive back in to her, make her his. He swallowed. He had to remember where they were. “Cassie, darlin', we have to stop.”

  No matter how sexy she looked, he couldn't believe they had just acted like teenagers at her older brother's wedding. If he hadn't come to his senses when he did, she'd be pinned to the wall full of him, and he wouldn't have cared about the audience, the venue, nothing. Just her body beneath his, his mouth, hand, and cock working her to a frenzy. He shook his head. That was a much too tempting scenario.

  “We should...” she started, breaking the heated silence.

  “You bet your ass we should.” He laid a finger across her wet mouth. “But not here, not now.”

  “Last time I nearly killed you.”

  He chuckled. “Honey, that was two weeks ago, and I'm much better now.” He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. “Much better.”

  He watched her mind fight her body, the heat in her gaze dimming slightly before coming back full-force. What he'd give to know what kind of battle just went on in that head of hers, but since he was pretty sure he'd like the outcome given her expression, he bit his tongue.

 
“When we get out of here, you're proving just how much better you are.”

  He let his smile break free at her demand. “Gladly.”

  ~*~

  Dylan adjusted himself as best he could in the seat of his truck. It was still strange to be shuttled around by a woman, but until the doctor signed off on his paperwork, he wasn't allowed behind the wheel. He remembered similar orders after his sister had her first seizure. No driving for three months, no matter how she felt. He scrubbed his hand down is face. He hadn't thought about Emily for a long time, losing her years ago. He turned to look at his companion, beautiful in her green dress, the fussy hair she'd taken down as soon as she'd sat in the driver's seat now floating around her in dark reddish waves. She was his focus tonight, not thinking about things he couldn't change and hadn't done.

  Idly he wondered when he would be cleared to drive, effectively ending his need for Cassidy's cab service. At first he'd thought it lucky he hadn't been constricted for a set amount of time, thinking he would get out of her hair and stop imposing as soon as possible. Now, there was no way he was leaving her until the threat to her was neutralized, even though he had no leads regarding the car bomb, and Chris has been tight-lipped about the case, stating Dylan was too close to it. Just because his friend might be right didn't make him any less annoyed with the assessment. He just had to get back to fighting strength now to insure his Cassie was safe.

  He mentally kicked himself. She would not appreciate that statement, but he wasn't leaving until he knew there was no threat. He would just have to recover slowly, and make sure he had to stay with her. Not a hard sell, honestly. Although he could use his arm, there was a burning sensation from the nerve damage, one he was afraid would never leave him. Would he ever be back to one-hundred percent? He didn't know, but he had to believe he would. He couldn't let anything happen to her.

  ~*~

  Cassidy drove carefully, her speeding heart the only thing giving away the nervous thoughts running through her head. Dylan was so quiet in the passenger seat, she wondered if he'd changed his mind. God, she hoped not. He had revved her up so much they'd nearly made voyeurs of all the wedding guests, and she planned on having him when they got home. She hoped he was truly as healthy as he said, because she couldn't bear talking to Caleb again if this round of lovemaking caused the same reaction as the last. Dammit. No, not lovemaking. Fucking. She took another look at her temporary roommate turned lover. Oh, yeah, she was looking forward to good, hard fucking.

  When they pulled into the driveway she couldn't help but let out a gasp. Her front door was wide open. “Dylan?” she whispered.

  “Call the police, Cassie,” he ordered before throwing open the truck door and dropping quietly to the pavement. “Stay here.”

  “You stay, too. We don't know who's in there, and you're still hurt.”

  “If someone's in the house, they're not getting out.”

  Her phone connected to 911 then. “Yes, this is Assistant Commonwealth's Attorney, Cassidy Everett. I'd like to report a break-in at my residence.” She nodded and gave short answers before disconnecting the call. “Someone is coming out now. We're to stay where we are.”

  “Fine,” Dylan agreed, albeit reluctantly. She knew he didn't want to leave her alone anyway. Less than three minutes later, she heard a vehicle. It looked like the cavalry had arrived.

  ~*~

  Detective Brandon Davis stepped out of his unmarked car. Cassidy Everett was in trouble again, her bounty hunter boyfriend with her. What did she see in the injured man? Sure, he had thrown himself in front of bullets meant for her brother by Brandon's own insane ex-stepsister, but Dylan Black was too tall, too broad, too rough for a lady like Cassidy. No matter. He didn't want to get mixed up with a prosecutor anyway—she was too observant for his tastes. He liked his women easy, beautiful, and clueless, and Cassidy Everett only fit one of those criteria.

  He made his way to the Bronco the couple was standing beside to have them explain they had just returned from Mason's wedding and found her front door standing open.

  “Your brother didn't waste any time.”

  Cassidy nodded, her lips pursed. “After facing his mortality at the hands of Priscilla, wasting time was not on his agenda.” She paused, shooting a pointed look at her door. “Could you please, oh, I don't know, investigate or something?”

  Bitch. “Yes, and I will. I was trying to be polite.” He caught Black's cough meant to cover a laugh. “I'm going in now, stay here.”

  “Whatever you say, Detective,” Dylan responded stiffly.

  He did a sweep of the townhouse, finding couch cushions shredded, papers everywhere and an astounding lack of computers. It looked like someone was looking for information, as the television and stereo system were undisturbed, while the rest of the place had been torn apart. Given Cassidy's and Black's professions, he was sure the suspect list would be a long one. Just what he needed, a crime he had no part of to actually investigate. Maybe he could pawn it off on one of the uniforms. He smiled at this thought. Tiffany Morgan was clamoring for his attention and would love for him to toss a case her way. Maybe he'd get a blow job out of the deal too.

  He made his notes and returned to the parking lot. “I'd say they made off with your computers,” he said, all semblance of courtesy gone from his voice. “The furniture is torn up, there are papers and files all over, but the other electronics are still there.”

  “Dammit!” Dylan exclaimed before turning to Cassidy. “Who would want your files?”

  “Any number of people either headed to or currently in court.” She thought a moment. “I have fourteen pending cases right now.”

  “You're in danger, Miss Everett, and I'm happy to again offer my protection,” Brandon started, ready to enumerate why he was a better choice than her brother's hand-me-down hero. She didn't need to know the offer was more for his preservation than her own. He didn't know what she knew about his manipulation of the system, especially when it came to her brother and new sister-in-law's recent problems. He focused on hiding a smile. This threat could work to his advantage. He loved when a plan came together, and even more when a plan just appeared.

  “Fat lot of good that would have done,” Black growled. “She was with me, and she will remain with me.”

  He gave the tall bounty hunter a once-over, spending extra time on his immobilized arm. “You may be a hero, Black, but how do you plan on protecting Cassidy with only one working arm?”

  Black closed the space between them, towering over him by a good four inches. “Cross me, and you'll see just how lethal I can be.”

  The other man's yellow eyes were hard, full of spite. In a fair fight, he was sure Dylan Black could best him. Of course, there was no way it would ever be a fair fight if Brandon were involved. “Is that a threat?” he asked as nonchalantly as if Black had just asked him about the weather. He hadn't made it this far by showing his cards, and he wasn't even sure what game they were playing yet.

  Black was seething, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I don't make idle threats. You do your job—find the bastard terrorizin' Cassie—and I'll do mine.”

  He couldn't hide his smirk at Black's use of a nickname for a stone cold bitch. Maybe she wasn't as frigid as she'd come off. Interesting thought. “Cassie, is it?” he repeated. “I didn't know you were fucking your nursemaid.”

  Black had his fist pulled back before Brandon had finished his sentence, Cassidy clinging to it like a child. “He's not worth it,” she whispered.

  Fuck her. He was worth it and more, but that didn't matter.

  “Don't disrespect her again, or next time even she won't be able to stop me,” Black warned instead of letting his fist connect with his face.

  He almost wished Black would've hit him, but aside from the sympathy he might get from Tiffany, he could think of no good reason to take a punch from Black's massive fist, offhand or not. He affected as innocent a look as he could muster. “It was just a question.” Turning his hazel
eyes to Cassidy, he promised, “Think about it, dear Cassie. I can protect you.” Her features twisted into a disgusted look at his offer, and while he wanted to smack it right off her pretty face, he kept his own expression bland.

  “I'm quite happy with my current arrangement, thank you,” she snapped.

  Fucking bitch. Let her fuck a gimp, let herself get killed. No skin off his nose. “I'll just bet you are,” he sneered before turning and walking away.

  Chapter Four

  Her house had been ransacked. Why the hell had her house been ransacked? Cassidy paced the parking lot, unable to make herself go inside. She felt violated, and even with Dylan there, she couldn't get to a place where she'd feel safe. Whirling to face a stoic Dylan she said, “Take me home.”

  He stood still for a long moment, his jaw and left fist clenched, his eyes unfocused as if what she'd said didn't make sense. He shook his head slightly before answering her, “You have to drive.”

  “Right. Lock the house—for whatever that's worth—and let's get out of here.”

  “Yes ma'am,” he agreed.

  She raised wide eyes to his. “What if they were after your stuff and not mine? I mean, both our computers are missing, right?”

  “It was your house, your car, Cassie. There's a better chance someone is after you and not me.”

  “I'd gotten the occasional threat before, but nothing until you came to stay with me. What if it's you in danger? I can't protect you the way you can me.” Shit. As true as that was, she hadn't meant to sound so attached.

  He smiled. “We'll just have to watch each other's backs then.”

  “Deal.”

  ~*~

  Dylan watched her drive for the second time tonight and wondered what was running through her mind. A little more than an hour ago they'd been this close to making love in public and now she was scared stiff and driving on autopilot. He hadn't even had to give her directions, she had just gotten in the truck and driven straight down the road. She was quiet, scary quiet, and he braced himself for the torrent of emotion that would pull him under when she finally let it go.