by Shyla Colt
“I am. A month is far too long to go without seeing each other, but with inventory in the store, and their jam packed schedule…” Devlin shrugged. “I don’t like leaving you here though.”
“Why? I’ve closed by myself a million times before. We all have.”
“I know, but you’ve been jumpy lately, and not sleeping well.”
“That’s normal after dredging up memories of that night. Even my shrink agreed.”
“I know.”
“Go Dev, seriously. If I wasn’t okay, I’d say so. I know I’m on the edge, but I imagine I will be until this whole thing is said and done.” Claire placed a purse she’d cleaned in the display counter and stood to her full height. “Right now I need normalcy. You’ve all been tiptoeing around, coddling me, and while I love you for it. Knock it off!”
Devlin laughed.
“Okay, okay, I’ll spread the words.” She ran over and embraced Claire. “I owe you one.” She ran for the door, opening it, and locking it behind her.
Claire watched Devlin get into her car and drive off with a smile on her face. She was glad it was working out between the three of them. When she’d come back and told them she was seeing Jace along with his best friend, Tristan, she’d been skeptical, but supportive. Perhaps, some people were lucky enough to find more than one love. She hadn’t been. Even now dating felt wrong. She always compared her dates to Campbell, and none came close to measuring up. How could they? She closed the glass case, locked it, and headed to the back. The drawer was counted out. The deposit bag was locked in the safe for tomorrow. Only thing left was to turn off the main lights, set the alarm, and head home to her apartment.
She frowned. Once her oasis and retreat from day-to-day stress, her home turned into a prison over the past couple of weeks. In the silence her mind worked over time. The night of the robbery replayed in her mind, and every creak and unexplained noise had to be investigated. The trial was set up for a month from now, and ever since she’d gotten the date she swore she saw the gunman’s accomplice. She’d thought about calling Detective Quinn, but pride and fear she was mistaken held her back. It wouldn’t look good for a witness to be getting cold feet and hallucinating. Disgust curdled her stomach. I’m made of sterner stuff. Why am I letting this get inside my head? The only place she managed to find relief these days was at her Roller Derby games when she was forced to use her complete concentration on winning. Thirty more days and this nightmare would be over.
She flicked the last overhead light out, walked over to the wall, armed the alarm, turned to the front door, and jumped. A silhouette stood outside the glass, peering in, and it wasn’t a woman. Her heart rate doubled. Play it cool, some guy’s browsing for his lady. It’s not impossible. Gut instinct made her kneel. A light shone into the window. He had a flashlight! Crouched down by a display a few feet away she was hidden from his view. She inched over and stuck her head out just enough to look up. The tinkle of glass made her spring into action seconds before the store alarm sounded. She was in the back struggling with the lock when an explosion of glass against the wooden floor told her the intruder had abandoned plans of stealth.
Footsteps pounded over wood. The lock turned. She swung open the door and came out the back. The closest place open and public was a gas station, half a mile down the street. She kicked off her heels and ran full out, pumping her legs, swinging her arms. The crunch of feet on gravel behind her told her he’d given chase. Don’t look back! People always fall when they do that. Her lungs burned. The sound of cars whooshing by filled her ears. The station that had been a light in the distance was now a safe haven. The traffic signal on the cross street went from green to yellow. No! Faster, faster. The mantra played in her head on repeat. She ran into the crosswalk on wings of faith. The yellow light would hold. A blaring horn reached her ear as she made it to the opposite side of the road. The light turned red. Cars filled the space between her and the purser. Yards away from the gas station she felt safe—for now. Her eyes strained as she tried to find the man through the sea of vehicles, but the search was fruitless.
Her legs shook as she walked the rest of the way to the gas station. It’s time to call Detective Quinn. She stepped inside the building, and the chime alerted the slender women behind the counter, who eyed her warily. I must be a sight.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry. You can’t be in here with no shoes on.”
“I own the shop up the road, Vintage Vixen. Someone just tried to break in and chased me down here. Can I use your phone?”
“Oh my God, you poor thing, of course. Let’s call the police.” The women jumped into action, waved her over and guided her down into a seat behind the register. She picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1, talking with the operator while she digested what had occurred.
****
“Hey Quinn, you’re covering the Reading girl’s case, right?”
“Yeah.” He glanced up to see Officer Swanson in his door. “Why?”
“Cause she’s been involved in an attempted robbery.”
“Shit! Where? When?”
“Less than thirty minutes ago. Dispatch has someone on their way out to Joe’s Gas and Go on
Beechmont Avenue
.”
“I know the place, I’m going to head that way, tell them to wait for me. I got a feeling this is connected to my current case.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Swanson shook his head. “Craig Jonson is still at large, and those boys always clean up each other’s messes.”
Not going to happen. I promised her once everything would be okay, and I’ll be damned if I let her down. Blind panic struck him at the thought of seeing her broken and bruised like so many women these two men came into contact with.
He hurried to the unmarked black sedan, hit his ear bud and dialed his superior.
“This better be good.”
“Chief, there’s a new development on that Reading Case. She was just involved in another attempted robbery where she works. The man gave chase, which indicates she was the target. I want to request she go into protective custody until the court date.”
“Done. These two bastards intimidate every decent witness we have or make them disappear. This time we’ll be one step ahead of them. I’ll have the paperwork ready for you later on tonight.”
“Thanks, Chief.”
“Anytime. You’ve been waiting on this day for years. One of those cases that get under your skin and stuck, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go to her and don’t let her out of your sight. Sleep on her couch if you have to.”
“Understood.”
He pulled up into the parking lot, parked behind the black-and-white squad car, and hopped out. He walked in, and his heart dropped into his shoes. She looked terrified. The officers dwarfed her tiny frame as they stood beside her, pad in hand, jotting down details. Mascara was smeared beneath her red-rimmed eyes, her hair was windblown, and she stood with her arms wrapped around her waist. Her eyes held a determined glint, but he could see through her to the fear that lived in her heart.
“Ramirez, Simmons.” He greeted the two officers on duty as he walked up.
“Hey Detective, what are you doing here?”
“Ms. Reading here is under my protection now, straight down from the chief.”
Their eyes squinted, and they exchanged a territorial look that made him mentally roll his eyes. Rookies.
“We think this incident is connected to a case I’m currently working on. Sensitive information, so I can’t really speak freely. You can call it in if you want. I know it’s procedure, and I literally just got off the phone with the new orders.”
“No offense to you, Quinn, but we have to follow the book.” Simmons stepped to the side.
“Be my guest.” Quinn leaned down to speak to Claire. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, just shaken. I’m so stupid. I should’ve called you before this happened. I thought it was my imagination working overtime.�
��
“What are you talking about, Claire?” He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “Take a deep breath and start from the top. No one is going to hurt you while I’m around.”
“I thought I saw the other robber. At first it was fleeting. I’d be in a crowded place and swear I caught a glimpse of his face, but when I focused he’d be gone. Then it started happening more frequently. I thought it was the stress, old memories coming to the surface.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to ruin my credibility as a witness.”
He straightened.
“How long has this been going on?”
“About three weeks?”
“Have you ever seen him near your house?”
“I think so … you think it’s him?” Her eyebrows arched. The pulse in her slender neck went wild.
“Yes, they have a history of pulling this. You need to come with me right now.”
“Wait! What? I can’t do that. I need to handle the break-in at my store, talk to my co-owners—”
He wrapped his hands around her forearms, marveling at the strength he felt. Small, but not so weak. A sharp jolt of desire ignited and burned in his belly. Her skin was velvet soft and silky. “You’re in danger. We need to get you someplace safe now. There’s no time for anything else.”
“It all checks out.” Ramirez’s deep voice interrupted their heated conversation. He ripped his notes out of his pad and handed them over. “We’ll head on over to the store, see what we can salvage there, and let you take care of Ms. Reading.”
“I appreciate it, Officers,” Claire said.
“The pleasure was all ours.” Simmons tipped his hat, and they turned to exit. He took her hand.
“Wait, where are we going?” she asked.
“My car, he could be watching right now.” His words silenced her protest, and fear flickered in the depths of her brown eyes. Good, she should be scared right now. He glanced down. “What happened to your shoes?”
“I kicked them off. Running in heels is the first don’t in a horror movie or a thriller. I hate the things, but my best friends made me watch enough to know that.”
“Somehow I think you’d be the girl who survived in the end.”
She gave a sad smile. “Story of my life, isn’t it?”
They reached the car, and he opened her door, helping her step in. What could he say to that? He slipped into his car and turned on the ignition. “I want you to place a call to a friend you trust to get the word out about you going underground, then I want you to turn off your cell phone. We’ll get you a prepaid one tomorrow, but I’m not taking any chances. He’s a scumbag, but he’s not stupid. You don’t get away with the things these two have without smarts.”
He pulled out of the parking lot, listening as she placed her call. Her voice wavered as she explained what was going on with her friend and she promised to call her as soon as he said it was safe. Fuck! The circumstances sacked him like a three hundred pound linebacker. She was going to be glued to his side for the next month. The first woman who made him want to get his dick wet for more than just pleasure in the past few years, and she was off limits. Only for a month, and even then it wouldn’t be the first time things got heavy while someone was under custody. He rolled down the window, grateful for the air that cooled down the lava his blood had become. She needed closure so she could make a clean break. Not an old man who swore like a sailor, drank whiskey like water, and had a bad habit of putting his career first. Sure, he was only in his early forties, but in cop years that was like sixty. He’d seen too much evil in this world not to be affected. She still had a chance to step back into the light. That’s what he needed to focus on.
Chapter Three
Blood, on her hands, her clothes. She wiped them on her shirt, tried to get the sticky residue off, but it wouldn’t budge. Not again, please not again. I just need sleep. She didn’t want to look! Regardless of the mental screams going off she glanced down. The rotted, bloated, and discolored corpse of Campbell greeted her. A shrill shriek rent the air, jerked her from her unrest, and rescued her from the reoccurring nightmare. The door to the bedroom swung open, and Quinn emerged on one knee. His nine millimeter ready and aimed as he scanned the perimeter with his gaze.
“Clear?” he asked.
“Clear. I’m sorry. It was a nightmare again.”
He stood, and her breath caught. The white wife beater he paired with gray sweat pants outlined his broad shoulders, slim waist, and an impressive six-pack. Hell of a time for my hormones to come to life. He looked good with a bit of nighttime scruff on his face and messy hair. They’d been living together for about two weeks, and she couldn’t shake the sense of intimacy that came from sharing the same space. He de-cocked his gun, set it on the table in front of her, and sat on the edge of the couch next to her.
“It’s okay. What are you doing out here on the couch instead of in the guest room?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d watch some TV, instead it ended up watching me.”
He snorted, ran a hand through his hair and over his face before he turned his gray gaze on her full force.
“You have to sleep, C. You know you’re safe here. Anyone coming through that door will have to get through me first, and that’d be after they even found you. We’ve been careful. No trips back to your house or work. Hell, we didn’t even put you in the witness housing because we were afraid of trickle down, and knew the last thing anyone would expect from us is to be here.”
“I know, and I appreciate it, but this isn’t about fear.” She toyed with the soft, brown blanket on her lap. His hand came down and covered hers, stilled the motion and sent tingles through her body and down to her throbbing clit. Her nipples went stiff. Please don’t let him notice. Kelly Quinn was a sexy man who made her feel safe. Her libido worked overtime as the lines blurred between protector and friend. He placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her face to meet his stare.
“Then what is it about?” A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed around it.
“Guilt.”
“Why?” His gruff voice was gentle and softened. It did funny things to her tummy.
“Because I’m still here, and the men who killed him are still out there … I don’t know. Usually I have a better handle on things.” She shrugged.
“Survivor’s guilt, I understand it. Felt it more than once. When the guy on the same run takes one and is never the same and I wonder what’s so special about me? Then I start thinking I have to live on and be something great, push harder to make up for the break fate gave me.”
“Yes. He only asked me one thing, to live my life. I try to honor that wish as much as possible.”
“Is that why the makeover?” He nodded toward her.
“It’s how I’ve always felt on the inside. Like I got lost in a time vortex and ended in the wrong time. Only, my parents didn’t approve, so I didn’t. I did a lot of that when I was younger. Putting my wants off for others.”
“And now?” His fingers traced her jaw line. Heat blossomed in her cheeks. She loved the deep timber of his voice. Her eyelids fluttered down.
“Now I live for me.”
“Good, life’s too short to do otherwise, and you’ve got the whole word at your fingertips.” The feather soft touches continued to relax and arouse her. He moved down to her neck to trace her collarbone.
“Quinn.” Was that her voice all wibbly wobbly and breathless?
“I think it’s past time you call me Kelly.” The distance she desperately clung to disintegrated with her next word.
“Kelly.”
“I like how it sounds on your tongue.” His breath caressed her face. The scent of minty toothpaste and masculine body soap teased her senses. Her nose twitched like a rabbit’s, and her heart pounded like a drum. Her muscles tensed as every part of her being awaited his next move. His lips pressed against hers. A shock of current lit up her nerves. Kelly Quinn does not disappoint. Scruff scraped her
sensitive skin. She moaned, savoring the delicious sensation. He took advantage of her open mouth, slipped his tongue inside and explored her. His kisses were like him, firm, demanding, and in total control. She yielded, going boneless.
The heat that rolled of his body seared her flesh.
“Can I touch you?” he whispered against her lips. He pulled back with passion-glazed eyes that made her whimper.
“Please.” She brought her hands up against his chest. The steady heartbeat comforted her, just like the man himself. “You make me feel … it’s been so long.”
“It’s a two way street, sweetheart.” His gruff tone washed over her, stroked parts long untouched. Her center moistened and gave way to a flow of nectar. He trailed his hands down her arms, leaving chill bumps in his wake. She caressed his firm chest, moved her hands up to stroke his chin and into the thick, silk of his dark hair. He scooted back onto the couch and pulled her into his lap with her legs on either side of him. His hardness pressed up against her. She tensed.
“No pressure, C. No expectations, just us.” He massaged her lower back.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes when his lips met hers once more. His massage moved up her back, and his kisses drugged her. She felt warm, protected, and safe. Their kisses tapered off, and he moved her head to rest against his shoulder.
“I should get off you.”
“No, you should stay exactly where you are.” His chest rumbled. Exhaustion delivered its deathblow, and she found herself surrendering to sleep.
“Wrap your legs around me.”
She did as he requested. He stood, held her close, and supported her weight. The bed met her back. Her heavy limbs fell onto the bed.
“Sweet dreams, C.”
“No.” She reached out to grab his wife beater with the last of her strength. “Don’t go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The bed dipped beneath his weight. He lay down beside her and pulled her body to his, front to back. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she rested.
