Sting

by Jennifer Ryder

  “He never laid a hand on me, but he did a lot of things to hurt me. He broke my heart, for one. There were a lot of reasons why it didn’t work out. I think what caused the most damage were the lies.”

  I sigh with slight relief at her first admission, but get tripped up when she mentions lies.

  Lies. The essential element to my job. Paramount to the art of deception. Master Ryan Clark, aka Ryan Palmer, at your service.

  “I’m so sorry he did that to you. Where is he now?”

  “Hopefully somewhere he can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

  Huh? What does she mean? Jail? It can’t mean anything else. What the hell did this motherfucker do?

  I need to find out more. I need to know what we’re dealing with. More to the point, I need to know what Willow is running from.

  “He won’t get near you.” It’s a promise and a statement. “You’re in charge of your own future now, Willow. You can have whatever you want. All I can hope for is that I get to be a part of it.”

  Willow swallows hard, and looks deep into my eyes. Right through me. A certain fragility and sadness swirls in her gaze. She cups my face in her small hands, and brushes her lips over mine.

  “You’re really special to me, Ryan. No, wait.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a second and opens them. A soft smile quirks at the corner of her mouth. “That sounds corny, when I’m trying to be serious about this.”

  “Sounds just fine to me, Blondie. You’re special to me, too.”

  “No, there’s just something I want to say, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to say it yet, you know? I just—”

  I stall her sweet ramblings with a long demanding kiss, which is fired by the passion inside I have for this sweet, little woman. My little woman.

  Today I wish I was a lacklustre boat mechanic on a run-down fucking charter boat, because if I were that man, Willow would know the truth about me.

  “We can just leave it at that for now, if you want, but I think we’re on the same page.” I can only hope that my kiss conveyed just that. How can I tell her how I feel about her when she doesn’t know the truth about me?

  She holds her hand over my heart, pressing her palm firmly to my skin. Don’t worry, Blondie. You’re corkscrewing your way in there.

  “Yeah, I think we are.”

  I love my job, but it’s days like this when I want to throw it all in. Well, the undercover part anyway.

  I can never really have a life, a relationship. Any kind of honest one, that is. It’s a sacrifice I’ve made for more than two years. Willingly, of course. I’d never take it back. I’ve done more to progress my career in the last two years than I could have on the beat in ten. I’ve received commendations, been put on high-profile cases, because I’m a performer. I put the Force and the job ahead of everything. Including me. Always ahead of me.

  The only thing of truth Willow knows about me is my first name.

  It’s not enough.

  Surely it’s not enough to fall in love with someone? To create a bond that lasts? If she knew the truth about me, would she feel the same? The more time I spend here, the more I don’t wanna leave. What happens when the job is over?

  Willow trails her finger down my arm, and pokes my bicep. “Ha, big mussies,” she says, and smiles.

  I copy her actions, poking her lean upper arm. “Little woman,” I whisper and kiss her feather-like on the lips.

  The look of adoration in her eyes says more than words could. It melts my damn insides.

  Whether I meant to or not, I’ve fallen for this woman. And it’s so many things, little things, that add up to something bigger than the both of us. It’s her funny-as-fuck sayings. The hiccups. Her drive to succeed and move on, regardless of what happened in the past. The way her body responds. How she clings to me. How she makes me feel. King of the universe.

  Willow needs me. She might not admit it, but I feel it in my bones, in my gut. My gut is never wrong.

  It’s my duty to look out for her, something I take on willingly.

  I’ll protect her from what haunts her.

  I’ll guard her heart.

  I never thought I’d be ready for something serious, doing what I do, but she’s making me re-think everything. EVERYTHING. My future. What I could have, but thought wasn’t in the cards for me.

  A wife. A partner. A family of my own.

  “What’s on your mind?” she says, dragging me from visions of the future.

  “I’m not a greedy man, Willow, but you’re turning me into one.” I sigh. Yes, just like my girlfriend Mick would.

  “Can I tell you something, and you promise you won’t laugh your arse off?” I say, a little fear riddled in my tone. I’m only saying this because I know Willow’s heart. She’d never make me feel bad or ridicule me, and I know in my gut that she wants the same thing.

  “I promise.”

  “Call me old-fashioned, but I wanna get you knocked up and have you round-bellied and barefoot, cooking biscuits in our kitchen.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Ours?”

  That’s what rattled her out of that sentence?

  “Yeah, Blondie. Ours. One day. You’ve shown me what I’ve been missing. For a long time I didn’t think I’d find someone like you, and what I think we could have is something I’d like to fast forward to.” I need to talk to Pete and let him know that after this job, I want out of undercover. It’s time.

  “Awww, that’s so sweet.” She places her hand over her heart, and lets out a longing sigh. “Can I tell you something?”

  I nod, as a grin curls at the edge of my mouth.

  “My mother used to say that ‘the one person that’s on your mind, last thing at night, that’s where your heart is, sugar.’”

  “She was onto the sugar thing too, huh?”

  Willow nods. “You’re on my mind … always.”

  Dang.

  ****

  WILLOW

  “Angel!” his voice bellows across the expansive room.

  Court officials wrestle him as he moves in my direction. They secure handcuffs behind his back. His deadly gaze fixes on me until he’s out of sight.

  The gavel slams down, and the judge adjourns the court for a brief recess.

  I scramble from the witness stand. Two tall men in dark suits guide me through a series of hallways until I’m escorted to a car park. Before me awaits a black sedan with tinted windows.

  My heart pounds fiercely, as adrenaline pumps through me. They can’t protect me from him. I need to get out. Fear drives me to break free of their grasp, and I run.

  I race through the streets, passing office buildings in a blur. Lactic acid burns, my legs and lungs are on fire, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

  The next moment I’m surrounded by a field that extends as far as I can see, with long grass that cuts at my legs and hands as I continue to run. Finally, sand is between my toes, and the soothing sound of waves crashing to shore fills my ears.

  I close my eyes and breathe deeply, soothing my lungs with the cool air. In and out. In and out. My temples throb, and my entire body shakes, riddled with anxiety.

  “Why did I testify?” I whisper to the salty evening air. The wind whips through my hair, sticking to the tears that stream down my face. “He’ll kill me!”

  Ryan sprints down the beach. I hold up my hand in warning. “Don’t!” I scream. The terror inside me magnifies as he draws nearer.

  He can’t be here. He can’t stop this.

  Jacob tightens his hold on my waist, his fingers digging cruelly into my side. “I warned you, Angel.”

  He extends his other arm around me and aims the gun at Ryan’s chest.

  “You ready to watch your boy die?” Jacob growls in my ear. He releases me and yanks my hair back sharply, causing my back to arch into his hard body.

  “He’ll kill you,” I whisper, as I stare deep into those chocolate pools for the last time.

  The gunshot rings out.

  ****

 
; RYAN

  A blood-curdling scream escapes from her mouth. I launch myself out of bed and snatch my Glock from the top drawer. I flick on the lamp, and scan the room for a target, preparing to take aim.

  No one here but us.

  A loud sob breaks free from Willow’s mouth as her arms flail about, tangled in the sheets.

  Calm down, Ryan. She’s having a bad dream.

  I slip the weapon back in the drawer, and lay down beside her.

  “Willow, wake up,” I say, stroking her upper arm to rouse her.

  She mumbles something, that’s hard to make out, but what I do catch makes my blood run cold.

  Testify.

  Kill me.

  “Wake up,” I growl, louder this time. I grip her shoulders to steady her small, trembling body. Her skin is cool and damp with sweat.

  “Don’t,” she chokes out. My heart wrenches with each jerk of her chest. How do I make her stop? I don’t wanna hurt her.

  I shake her shoulders, gently at first, but it takes more force before her eyes fling open. Tears roll down her flushed cheeks and she chokes on a sob.

  “I’m here. I’m here,” I repeat, pulling her into my arms. Her chest rises and falls as she gasps for air.

  Eyes glazed over, her eyelids flutter before they close and she melts into my arms.

  “He’ll kill you,” she whispers.

  Fuck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  WILLOW

  “Are you smiling, lady? Like really smiling?” Gabs teases.

  I remember having another nightmare last night, but it seemed to end much quicker than normal. What I remember well is the safe feeling of being wrapped up in Ryan’s warm arms. But I think the main reason for my smiling was waking to Ryan’s head between my legs. Best start to my day ever.

  “I smile all the time,” I blurt out.

  “Na-ah. Not like that you don’t. How many Os did that boy give you last night? Two? Three?”

  Heat rises to my cheeks, something fierce. I shake my head and scoff. I’m not discussing this now.

  “Sweet baby Jesus, Willow. Four?”

  “Gabs, can we talk about this later? It’s not something I want to share with every customer that walks through the door.”

  “If I had that many Os comin’ at me, lady, I’d be telling anyone who wanted to listen.”

  “Yes, well that’s your style, not mine.”

  “Hey, is that your phone ringing out back?”

  I prick up my ears, the familiar tune telling me it is. “Unless you have Sweet Home Alabama on your phone now, I guess it is.”

  Gabs pokes her tongue out at me, and then turns back to the register.

  “I’ll just take these coffees out and then I’ll duck out back for a second.”

  It’s a missed call from a private number, which generally means one thing. My heart pounds quicker.

  I listen to my voicemail to hear a familiar friendly voice. Nevertheless, it still invokes dread and fear. He generally only calls with bad news.

  I walk into the back alleyway and dial his number, which is one of the few saved in my phone.

  “How you goin’, darlin’? It’s Hayden. I’m sorry to interrupt you at work, but I was hoping I could swing past your place tonight?”

  A familiar sick feeling gurgles up my chest. What is it now? It’s got to have been two months since the last time he called. I’ve been avoiding the papers and the news for fear of seeing Jacob’s face again. It’s a pity my ignorance to the case does little to quash my anxiety. Why do these things take so long? Can’t they just lock him up and be done with it?

  I shudder as I re-live the last time Hayden contacted me. There was a problem locating one of the witnesses—Rudi, I think his name was. He had worked with Jacob and had agreed to give evidence, but then, two days before he was to sit in the witness box, he disappeared. I hope Hayden wants to meet to tell me that they found Rudi. That he just happened to mix up his court dates and was holidaying in Byron Bay, not chopped to pieces and floating around in it. I need to hear that the rest of the Crown’s case against Jacob and his crew is still water-tight. I need to hear that more than my customers need their caffeine.

  Above all, I need to know that this is over.

  “Is it something we can discuss over the phone? I, um, can take a short break?” Although on second thoughts, I can’t really afford to take a break, because Thursdays are always crazy with Sarah having the day off for study.

  “No, we need to meet in person.” His voice is all business, with a hint of urgency.

  Drat.

  “Okay, well how about tomorrow sometime?”

  “I need to see you tonight.” He is gruff, more adamant this time.

  “Okay, then. I’ll be home by six thirty.”

  “See you then.”

  ****

  A few minutes later, Ryan strides in. His beautiful gleaming smile distracts me enough that I overfill the cup I’m pouring, milk spilling into the saucer.

  “Well, good mornin’,” he drawls when he reaches the counter, knocking twice on the scuffed timber top.

  “It is now,” I breathe.

  “You two are pathetic, you know that?” Gabs pipes in.

  “Just the usual, Gabby,” he says, and hands over a note.

  I immediately set about making his coffee.

  “What do you wanna do tonight, Blondie?” he asks, diverting his intense gaze. His eyes lazily scan over my boobs, and when they lock with mine, he’s wearing that beautiful dimple and a sexy smirk to boot.

  Tonight, um … oh! Crap on a stick!

  “I’m, ah, just going to have a hot bath and crash, I think,” I say shakily, and nod once. I’m such a terrible liar.

  “Oh.” I don’t miss the disappointment in his tone, or splashed across his face.

  I crook my finger and he leans in close. His aftershave tickles at my nostrils, making me giddy. I’d do anything to be seeing him tonight, rather than what I have to do. How can I sugar-coat this? Make him feel as if I haven’t just shut him down when he’s clearly thinking about getting me naked?

  “If you must know, you’re wearing me out.”

  “That bath of yours is built for two, you know.”

  I laugh softly, and do my best not to imagine him naked surrounded by a veil of bubbles. “I know.”

  “Okay, we’ll have to catch up Sunday then, because Mick and I are gonna be working late on Friday and Saturday.”

  “Are you sure that’s okay?”

  “Whatever you need, Blondie. Dinner at my place on Sunday.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  ****

  “Can I get you a cup of tea, coffee?” I ask, fussing around the kitchen. The jug boils and I grab some mugs from the dish drainer on the sink.

  “Coffee would be great. I’m in for a long night,” Hayden says, taking a seat at the dining table. Trepidation settles in the pit of my stomach. Why would he be working late? I hate to think of the stuff he has to deal with, day in and day out. I thank the heavens above for those in uniform, and everything they do. With the exception of the dirty ones, of course.

  I make us each a cup, and walk them over to the table.

  “I brought some cookies back from the café. Fresh today.” I nudge the plate towards him.

  “Choc chip?”

  “Of course,” I say, and smile.

  “Damn, you remembered my favourite.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” They’re just cookies.

  “If you ever see my wife, don’t you dare tell her I have a soft spot for these cookies of yours.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  Of course I’d never tell Melissa, the best hairdresser in town, that I’m feeding her husband sweets on the side. For two very good reasons.

  He checks up on me every so often, and when he does I return the favour in my own little way. He likes the cookies; I like the security and comfort he provides. He’s my only link to my past.

 
Once you find a good hairdresser, you never let them go. Keeping my hair dyed blonde requires someone who knows what they’re doing, to save it from being over-bleached and falling out.

  He wraps his mouth around the cookie and takes a man-sized bite, devouring half the cookie.

  “How’s the diet going, anyway?” I ask, bouncing my knee up and down under the table. Of course I’m anxious about the purpose of his visit, but I’d rather talk about other things. I’m sure it won’t take him long to get to the point. He’s always been direct.

  He chuckles around a mouthful of biscuit and gradually swallows.

  “Doin’ my best,” he says, and pats his not so firm stomach. It’s not like he really needs to lose it anyhow. He’s a big, solid guy. I think Melissa thinks the weight is linked to the other problems they’ve been having.

  “What about the … you know?” I raise my eyebrows, hoping he gets that I’m asking about the baby-making adventures. It’s not like I’m going to come straight out and ask about all the sex he’s having. Just like what I’m having. Heat rushes to my face.

  Sugar.

  His deep chuckle, followed by a nod and a wink, tells me he’s read me loud and clear.

  “Practice makes, perfect. In fact, we haven’t told anyone yet. I think it’s because we’re kinda in shock.”

  “Shock?”

  He holds up two fingers. “Twins.”

  “Sweet cupcakes! That’s wonderful news. It’s been a long time coming.”

  “Yeah, sure has.”

  A nervous giggle jumps up my throat as a happy tear runs down my cheek. I could not be happier for him and his wife. They finally get their family.

  “You seem to be coping well. Everything going along okay?” he asks, like always.

  “Yeah. I mean, this stuff is always in the back of my head, you know, but I guess what can you do? You have to soldier on and just deal with it right?”

  I’m rambling. Getting real good at that.

  “Yeah. True that.”

  “I met someone. It’s kind of serious too,” I say, tentative on the word serious. What Ryan and I have is serious; I just don’t know what Hayden will think. I know he worries that I might share too much of myself. He knows how I’ve struggled with relationships in general, and the first year in protection I thought I was suffering depression. I certainly had more dark days than light. Hayden was the only one I could talk to, confide in, but I’m also lucky to have found Gabs. That woman, simply put, is my happy. Every single day.