Intimate Honor

by D. C. Stone

  “Fuck,” Davis said from behind.

  “My words exactly,” Squirrel said.

  Chris couldn’t say anything, though. He stared at the nightmare unfolding before them. A nightmare coming to his town. A town that held nearly everyone who meant something to him. A headache that had been hinting at making an appearance again began to throb behind his eye.

  He went to the bathroom, wincing at the muted sunlight coming through the window, causing his head to pierce with sharp pain. The earlier throb had turned into a full-fledged migraine that matched the beat of his heart.

  He grabbed the pain pills from the cabinet and paused at the weight, still unnerved about how much wasn’t in the container. Surely, he hadn’t taken so many in the short time he’d been home. With his parents’ addictions, he had made a point not to put himself in a situation where he’d want to rely on something other than what his body needed to survive: food, water, the daily cup of Joe. He could only recall taking two the first night after his run, and that was more so to get his body to settle and get some shuteye. But from the looks of it, the bottle was half-empty.

  He stared at the empty space, trying to think through the pain in his head. His vision swam, his stomach clenched, and all the while, the ache was a constant reminder that he hadn’t fully recovered.

  Disturbed at the missing pills, he shook two out of the bottle and tossed them to the back of his throat, swallowing them with a slurp of water from the faucet.

  Needing to sleep off the migraine and what the pills would soon do to him, he fell onto his bed, giving a little bounce before settling his head on the pillow with a sigh. He hated how the meds made him feel—out of sorts, woozy, and unable to focus.

  Sam came into the room, looking like an angel sent to slay his demons, her long red hair falling around her shoulders. A heavy dose of humidity hung in the air today, and that moisture had caused her wavy hair to turn into big curls. The curve of those curls brushed against her breasts and arms, and if he hadn’t been in so much pain, he’d show her exactly how beautiful she was. Instead, he verbally relayed his thoughts.

  “You’re gorgeous, Red. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman as gorgeous as you.”

  Her cheeks pinkened and she shot him a small smile. “I think you need your head examined. I’m a hot mess.” She came and sat on the bed, leaning over him to brush an imaginary hair off his forehead. He knew it imaginary as his hair was cropped short, but he didn’t call her out on the action as he liked her touching him, too.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “Breakfast is ready and I have a feeling if you don’t get out there soon, those friends of yours are going to eat through everything, maybe even this house.” The side of her mouth quirked up in humor.

  He matched her grin. “I’ve got a migraine taking its shot at me. Just need to lie down for a bit.” He intertwined their fingers and idly rubbed his thumb across the smoothness of her hand. “While I’m thinking about it, have you used any of my pills?” He shook his head, then added, “It’s not a big deal if you did. I’m trying to account for the ones that seem to be missing.”

  A V formed between her eyebrows. “No, I can’t—what kind of pills are we talking about?”

  “Oxy.”

  She whistled low. “That’s some serious painkillers. How many are missing?”

  He shifted on the bed to get more comfortable. His mind grew a little lazy and warmth started spreading through him. A nap sounded like a great idea. Hopefully, when he woke, his headache would be gone. “I’m not real sure. There’s a bit more missing than I remember taking. I’m not too worried about it. Just curious.”

  She leaned down again and brushed her lips against his. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m going to head to the clinic. I have someone coming by to look at the damage from the fire, and I’m curious about it, too. It looked huge last night being there, but thinking back on it, I remember it being a smaller one confined to a specific area.”

  He sat up, his limbs moving as if they drifted through water, his head foggy. “I’ll go with you. You shouldn’t go alone.”

  “No,” she said and placed her hand on his shoulder, pushing him back to the bed. “Like you said before, I’ll be fine in this town. The police department is less than a mile from my clinic. It’s daylight. And people will be walking up and down Main Street. Nothing will happen.”

  He didn’t like it. Didn’t like the idea of her being out of his reach for more than an hour. But with his current condition and the drugs pumping through him, he was next to worthless. “Maybe one of the guys can go with you. Or I’ll call D or Charlie.”

  Her face tightened at Charlie’s name. “Red…”

  She shook her head, looking away and standing from the bed. “No, no, I heard you last night. It’s just a bit sensitive still. I’ll get past it. The guys are looking a bit tired. If something happens, I have my phone and I’ll call Detective Gonzalez or you immediately, okay?”

  He still didn’t like it. But he had a hard time focusing. “Why don’t you humor me and take DA?” He’d noticed how attached DA was becoming to her. If his dog was around and anything happened, she’d at least be given a head start.

  She shook her head. “The place is a mess. Glass is everywhere. And a stranger is going to be at the clinic with me. I don’t want to risk him getting stressed or cutting his paw. I’ll be fine, Chris. Get some sleep.”

  Her decision sounded final, and he knew better than to push it. He closed his eyes and listened to her moving around the room, peeking a few times to watch her change her shirt, grab a sweater, brush her hair. He liked her in his house and in his life. He could get used to this simple, domestic scene. The pull of sleep started to drag him under with an insistent tug he didn’t fight. Each of his limbs felt weighed down, as if they were held with concrete blocks. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, just one he wasn’t used to, being as he liked full control of his facilities at all times.

  That same merry-go-round popped behind his lids, a child’s laughter and another’s scream. He reached for the memory or vision and tried to see through it, but promptly fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A few hours later, Samantha swept another pile of broken glass onto a dustpan and dumped it into a contractor bag sitting nearby. She’d met up with the insurance agent, who was a nice, middle-aged man who seemed to be in a hurry. He’d been in her shop for what seemed like the timespan of a minute before handing her a folder filled with forms and instructions on the next steps. Included in that list were approved contractors they’d previously engaged with, and she took the opportunity presented and called three on the list to schedule them to come by to appraise the cost of work.

  She’d also rescheduled appointments with her clients, and called the local women’s clinic to get on the calendar for prenatal care. Even with the chaos going on around her, she felt mighty good about all she’d gotten completed today.

  The fire damage had been limited to one area, which was a relief, and even though the front glass window of the shop had shattered, with everything cleaned up, it didn’t look too bad. She’d been open for a few weeks and had driven most of her savings into this place. The last thing she needed was to be out of work when her only source of income was her shop.

  She eyed the gaping front window again. That hole definitely needed to be secured, otherwise, there was no telling what could happen. Perhaps she could ask Chris to help her find something to secure it with. He’d have an idea.

  Knowing she only had a few more items at his house, and she anticipated staying there a bit longer until they cleared her shop, she went up the stairs to her apartment to pack another bag.

  She reached the top step and a sense of dread rolled along her spine. The feeling eerily similar to when Manuel would corner her in a room. Her stomach flipped over, immediately knowing something was wrong. She didn’t know what, but her entire being screamed at her to run away … and fast.

 
The door to her apartment slammed shut. She whipped around.

  Six feet and three inches of muscle stood between her and the exit. Manuel never missed a day at the gym, no matter the weather or his health.

  “Hello, Samantha,” Manuel said, spitting her new name out as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. His brown eyes narrowed, causing her to take a step back.

  Her heart pounded against her chest, begging to be set free. Her skin felt as if it were on fire. And inside her head, she screamed.

  He looked better than ever. Manuel had always been a handsome man. He had that going for him. But those good looks were only on the surface. Everything inside of him reeked of evil and danger.

  “Nothing to say to your fiancé, darling?” he taunted, moving to lock the deadbolt then the knob. Any chance at a quick escape fled.

  She watched him like a hawk, expecting the first blow. It was coming, that much she knew. The only thing she didn’t know was if she’d survive this time.

  “That’s okay,” he said and stalked toward her. “We have plenty of time.”

  ****

  Chris woke groggy, feeling as if he hadn’t slept at all. Surprisingly enough, his headache had disappeared, but his body seemed content to stay where he was, in bed. On the other side of his door and down the hall, muted, deep voices carried on in conversation. Lingering smells of spices and bacon filled the air, and from what he could tell with his partially pulled curtains, the sun quickly settled in the sky.

  He grabbed his phone and checked the time. Almost six o’clock in the evening. Jesus. He’d been out all day. He had a text from Samantha regarding the insurance agent’s visit and the contractor list, but that had been hours ago. Maybe she had returned and was hanging with the guys out in the living room.

  With what took far too much effort, he rolled out of bed, used the restroom, and splashed cold water on his face to try to clear the cobwebs from his fuzzy mind.

  He padded out of the room and down the hall, finding Davis and Squirrel watching a baseball game on the tube.

  “Morning, or rather, evening, Princess,” Davis said.

  Chris made a point of looking around the corner to the front door. “Where is everyone?”

  “Sig and Doc took Dumb Ass for a walk. They’ve been out for about thirty minutes now,” Squirrel said, feet perched on the coffee table, a bowl of what looked to be popcorn in his lap.

  Chris cocked his head. “And Sam?”

  Both Davis and Squirrel shrugged. “She hasn’t returned,” his squad leader added.

  Chris’s heart gave a little jump start. Nothing to get too excited about. So she hadn’t come back yet. She’d been gone all day, though. No texts, no calls. And after their conversation this morning, something didn’t sit right.

  His phone vibrated in his back pocket, and he reached for it. “Has she come back at all today?” he asked Davis.

  Davis shook his head.

  A quick look at his phone had him freezing to the spot. He answered it, feeling as if his heart was about to jump from his throat.

  “D, talk to me,” he said.

  “Where are you?”

  “My cabin. What’s up?”

  “Listen, no good way to say this, man. But you need to get down to the hospital, and I need you to get here pretty damn quick without breaking any laws. You hear what I’m saying to you?”

  A million and one thoughts rushed through his mind at once. “What happened? Is it Ma? Pop?”

  “No. Ma and Pop are fine. Get in your truck and get down here. Traffic shouldn’t be too bad on the way down the hill.”

  “What the fuck, D? Why in the hell do you need me at the hospital?”

  Davis and Squirrel both stood from the couch, eyes on him, but he barely spared them a glance and turned back toward his room. He needed his shoes. His wallet. Fuck, he needed his mind clear. Good news was, he sure as shit was fully awake.

  “I’ll tell you when you get here. Drive safe. If you don’t think you can, call me and I’ll have a unit come get you.”

  “Goddammit, D. If you don’t tell me what in the fuck is going on, you and I are going to have some words…” All of a sudden, he stopped, pieces he didn’t want falling into place becoming crystal clear. “Sam…”

  His brother let out a broken curse on the other end of the line. “She’s hurt, but not too bad. I need you to get down here so we can all get on the same page. There are a few things you don’t know about, brother, and with what I’ve seen of you two, I don’t think I should be the one to tell you. She needs to do it. And I need you to get down here so you can see one, that she’s okay, a bit knocked up but otherwise fine. And two, I need to hit the town and surrounding areas and start looking for this guy before he gets too far. In order to do that, I need every man I have out on the road. Which means I need someone I can trust on her. Are you feeling me?”

  Chris slammed his second foot into his boot, the sound vibrating across the floor. He looked out the window, his eyes not seeing anything in front of him. “What do you mean you’re looking for this guy?” Something unpleasant spread across his chest, tightening the muscles there. In his peripheral, he saw Davis waiting at the door, DA at his side. Everyone had returned.

  “That’s all I’m saying for now. We’re in the ER. I’ll let the front desk know we’re expecting you.” With that, D hung up. Chris pulled the phone from his ear and looked at Davis.

  “Sam is at the hospital.”

  “Let’s go.”

  ****

  Chris rushed into Samantha’s room, his heart doing its best impression of pounding out a beat that rivaled a toddler on a sugar high with a new drum set. If he had taken a moment to think on the short drive over, rather than have his mind look for every bad scenario he’d run into, he would have looked inward at this new foreign feeling. Instead, all he could do was let out the deep breath he’d been practically holding the entire ride over at the sight of Sam whole and alive in the small hospital bed.

  Dwayne sat in a chair next to the bed, his head bent toward her as she spoke in low tones, his hand holding a pen to a notepad.

  Both looked up at his entrance, Dwayne with a hard look and Sam with something he couldn’t interpret. One that almost looked like she was resigned to whatever conversation she was about to impart.

  The door closed behind him with a swoosh, blocking out the busy sounds of the hospital and phones ringing. An antiseptic smell stung his nose, the scent all too familiar after the weeks he spent in the hospital in Germany. He vaguely noticed his team hadn’t entered with him and guessed they stood outside Sam’s door. For that, he was grateful. He wasn’t acting himself, nor was he thinking on all cylinders.

  Dwayne stood and shoved the small notepad in the back pocket of his dark jeans. “All right, if you can think of anything else, you know how to get ahold of me,” he said to Sam, then looked at Chris. “The doc should be back shortly. They were running one more test before giving the approval to release. You’ll stay by her side, correct?”

  Chris nodded, throwing a questioning look at Sam. “I won’t leave her unattended.”

  Dwayne nodded. “You two have some catching up to do. Once I get a better game plan of what’s happening, I’ll stop by the cabin.”

  Chris drew his brows together. “Mind telling me what the fuck is going on now?”

  D shook his head and moved around the bed, his intention for exiting the room clear. Despite Chris wanting to make him stay, to demand an explanation from his brother, he stepped to the side as Dwayne reached the door. “I think it’s best you hear what’s going on from Sam. All I’ll say is you need to make sure either you or a man you trust is with her at all times. You get me?”

  There was a look in his brother’s eye, one he wouldn’t have expected on any law enforcement officer. It was an expression Chris had only seen in hardened soldiers forced to do the ultimate worse. A look of resignation in facing a hard task ahead. Knowing his brother had things to do, despite those things b
eing secretive, and wanting to have this conversation with Sam sooner than later, he nodded at D then turned to Sam as his brother left.

  “Hi,” she said. She wore one of those hospital gowns he’d become all too familiar with. A blanket was draped across her lap and the sheet pulled up over her chest. She looked so achingly vulnerable with a split lip, what he guessed would soon be a black eye if the swollenness of it was any indication, and bandages across her arms, as if she had fended off an attacker who wielded a knife.

  He approached the bed, taking the same spot Dwayne had just vacated, and reached for her hand not connected to the IV. “How are you feeling?”

  She lifted a shoulder. The move drew attention to how petite she was under that gown. “I’ve been better.”

  She wasn’t giving him anything. He looked into her eyes, searching for an answer. “What’s—what’s going on, Sam? What happened?”

  She took a deep breath in, letting it out with a controlled exhale, then bit her lip. “Honestly, I don’t know where to start. There’s a lot you don’t know. But what I really want to say first is that I never intended for things to get this involved between us, Chris. If I had, I would have told you sooner. I looked for opportunities, wanted to tell you, but…” she trailed off.

  What? What was she struggling to say? He tightened his grip on her hand, wrapped his other around both of them and continued to search for answers in her pretty, green eyes. “Why don’t you just start at the beginning?”

  She swallowed, the sound audible in the small room. “My real name, or rather the name I was born with, isn’t Samantha Eagen.”

  He stared at her, trying to fight any sort of reaction when inside his chest, his lungs had seized. He forced himself to take in air.

  “It’s Juliette Graham. I had my name changed about six months ago.” She looked away, her grip tightening on his hand as if she were forcing herself to get the words out.