by Measha Stone
“Okay, they’ve agreed to let me take you home and bring you down to the station tomorrow to give your statement.” John paused only a moment when he walked back in and gave her a once over. “Good, you’re ready. We’ll just wait for the nurse to give you the papers.”
“I don’t have a statement to give. I was in the hallway when it happened,” she repeated herself. She’d told the cops at the scene the same thing, but they all seemed to think she knew something. All she knew was that her mother had put that address on an application for food stamps. It was the first solid lead she’d had in months, and it turned out to be a dead end.
“Well, they have a few questions. And so do I, so either way what ever happened tonight is being discussed.” He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans and fixed his stare on her.
“Here we go.” The nurse walked into the room, carrying papers over to Julie. “So, the doctor went over everything, but here it is for you in writing. If you have any questions, you can always give our nurse line a call.”
Julie took the papers and folded them. “Thank you,” she said, giving her a smile.
“Take care of the bandages, and make sure you put the ointment on. The prescription is here, do you want it called in somewhere?”
“I can—”
“If you wouldn’t mind. There’s a CVS down the block. We’ll stop there on our way home,” John interjected.
“You got it.” The nurse patted Julie’s leg. “I think you’ll be in good hands. I’ll get this called in so it should be ready for you when you get there. Get some rest.” Gifting Julie with another smile, she skittered off.
“I could have picked it up tomorrow. On my way home.” Julie pushed off the bed.
“There are a lot of things you can do, but you won’t.” John said, taking her jacket from her and holding it out to help put it on. With the pain in her arm, she didn’t fight him off. Moving gingerly, she managed to get her jacket on, but waved him away when he went to zip it.
“I can handle a zipper.” She rolled her eyes.
“Hmm. We’ll see what you can handle.” He yanked the curtain open and gestured for her to get moving. As much as she wanted to throw an elbow into his stomach as she walked past him, she managed to keep herself under control.
“Girls with attitudes don’t sit comfortably around me,” he said with a dark warning in his tone as they made their way out onto the street.
“I’m not giving you an attitude. I just don’t like when doms think they can just walk in and take over just because they’re a fucking dom!” She let him lead her to his car and reached for the passenger handle.
“Kitten, I’m not taking over anything because I’m a dom. Right now, I’m just setting us on the right course. You’ll stay with me tonight to be sure you’re okay. You’ll answer some questions I have, because since I was pulled out of my warm house at midnight to come down to the ER for you, I think I deserve at least that much. And if everything pans out okay, you’ll go home and on your way. I won’t make you stay. But you respond better when you’re submissive. At least that’s what you’ve shown me so far. So that’s the role we’re going to work within. At least for tonight. Now, get your ass in the car.” He brushed away her hand and pulled the door open.
She gawked at him for a solid minute before she finally came to her senses and climbed inside. Of all the barbaric and arrogant things to say! She would have given him a scathing retort, except as she turned to do so, the door slammed shut.
When he pulled into the all-night pharmacy he told her to wait in the car, while he went inside to get her meds.
“I have my insurance—”
“Just sit tight, kitten,” he said and left her in the car. At least he’d left her with the heat on and the music playing. She watched the doors for him, wanting nothing more than the warmth of her bed. But she knew once they go to his apartment, he would have a dozen questions for her to answer.
Finally, she spied him coming through the doors into the parking lot, carrying more than just a little pharmacy bag. When he got back in the car, he reached behind her and put the bag on the floor.
The rest of the drive went without conversation. Which was just as well, since she didn’t plan on giving him too much information. The police would want to know why she was at the apartment. After all, the apartment had blown up while she’d stood right outside.
John led her up the steps of his apartment building and to the elevator that brought them to the top floor. She followed behind him to the last door down the length of the hallway. She only had two neighbors to deal with in her apartment building; he had five just on his floor alone.
He opened the door and gestured for her to get inside. He hadn’t said anything in a while, and she wondered if maybe he regretted having answering the call earlier from the ER.
“Thanks,” she said when he locked the door and turned back to her. “For coming to the hospital, I mean. You obviously didn’t have to, so thanks. I’ll stay the night if you’re okay with it and be out of your hair first thing in the morning.” She started to peel her jacket off but his hands pushed hers away. She let him help her out of the coat, grimacing when her arm bumped him.
“We’ll see.” He took her coat to a closet near the entrance and hung it up.
“What?”
“I said we’ll see. Now, first things first.” He pointed behind her to the living room. She sighed but decided to get the interrogation over with. Then she’d go to sleep and get back to work on her search.
He didn’t disappoint in his decorating skills. Just as matter-of-fact as the rest of him. The obligatory couch and television, separated by a sensible wooden coffee table. A bookcase with hard-covered volumes lining each shelf.
“Not much for coloring outside the lines, huh?” she asked with what she hoped was a soft smile.
He looked around the room. “What?”
She laughed. “Nothing. It’s just, the room’s a little cold. No decorations, no pictures or paintings.” She pointed at the walls.
“Hmm, I guess so. I never paid much attention to that stuff.” He sat on the coffee table and pointed at the couch, she assumed for her to sit.
“Look. I’m sorry if I came off a little crabby at the hospital. Obviously, I’m glad you came. They probably wouldn’t have released me so soon if I had to take a cab home.” She stood beside him. “I’m really tired and my head hurts. I think I’ll just crash.”
“Sit down.” He pointed again to the spot in front of him. She scooted between him and the couch and plopped down. He moved his leg until he had one on each side of hers. The man loved to trap her, she supposed.
“Okay, I’m sitting.” She waved a hand at herself.
“What were you doing there, Julie?” He cut straight to the heart of the matter. “Why would you drive down there and find yourself at a meth lab? What were you looking for?”
“I didn’t drive down there, I took the bus. Second, not what—who. I was looking for someone. But she obviously wasn’t there. I didn’t know those guys were there, or what they were doing. She must have moved on already.”
“Marie. Your mother, is that right? You’re looking for your mother?”
“You looked her up?” she asked, not surprised. He was a cop, after all.
“Just a little. I wanted to be sure you weren’t doing anything dangerous.”
“I’m not.” The evenings events contradicted her claim, but other than a meth lab blowing up in her face, so far everything had been going smoothly.
“Well, after tonight, I’m not so sure. Why are you looking for her?”
“She’s my mom.” Julie wiped her hand across her eyes. It was late, too late, and she could barely keep her eyes open. She needed sleep, not an interrogation.
“Is she missing or is she not wanting to be found?” He asked the question softly.
“Missing. She wouldn’t just take off like this. Look. I’m really thankful you helped me out tonight, but I can
handle this on my own.”
He looked her over slowly, pausing to glare at the bandage on her left arm. “Yeah, looks like it.” He smiled, probably an attempt to soften the implied insult. “I’m offering to help, kitten. I have more resources than you do—although you apparently were able to get those police reports just fine.”
“Why would you help?” Not that she wanted to turn down the aid; he definitely could help with his police background, but what would be in it for him?
“Because I promised Blake I’d be sure you were okay, and safe. And if you’re going to go off on this search, you’re bound to be in unsafe places.”
“Blake. Kara’s friend? I think you’re taking your promise a little too seriously. I’m good. I can handle this.” She wiggled back on the couch, needing more space from him.
“And I want to. If you’ll remember, I did ask you out after we played at the club. So, it’s not like I don’t have any interest where you’re concerned.” He dropped his bag in his lap and pulled out a box. “But first, to alleviate any concerns, this.” He handed her the box.
“A drug test? You stopped to pick up an at home drug test kit?” She snatched up the box and shook it at him, her fingers bending the cardboard packaging.
“You have to admit, you haven’t been exactly forthcoming; getting information out of you has been like pulling teeth.” He pointed to the box. “So, let’s get this over with then you can hit the sack for the night. In the morning, you can explain exactly what happened tonight and we can go from there.”
“I don’t really need your help, you know.” She swallowed down the rest of her water.
“No, maybe not, but it will go a lot faster and you’ll have some muscle with you if you decide to go walking around that part of town again.” He moved the box closer.
Having him with her would dissuade anyone from bothering her, and his police resources would come in handy. From what little she could figure out on her own, her mother had gotten herself involved with some pretty nasty people. John’s connections could help her get through some of the information she’d collected and give her access to even more.
And he was fucking hot, so having him around wasn’t really going to be too much of a burden. He didn’t once suggest she simply hand over the search to him, which gave him another bonus point.
“Okay, fine. I’ll pee for you,” She climbed over his leg and looked down the hall. “Where’s the washroom?”
Instead of telling her, he stood up and escorted her down the hall, passing two bedrooms and a closed door.
She stepped inside the bathroom and pushed the door to close it. It bounced back and hit the wall, startling her. John stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.
“What are you doing?” She shoved the door against his immobile frame.
“Just get it done, kitten.” He lifted his chin toward the toilet. Pee in front of him? A man she barely knew? Had just met? Peeing in front of a guy was like date number ten or later, maybe months after living together, not days after meeting.
“You don’t need to watch, for shit’s sake.” She considered refusing to take the test altogether, but he could pull back his offer to help her find her mom.
He made a show of looking at his fitness watch. “You have exactly two minutes, then I’m saying good night.”
“And then what? You won’t help me? I already said I didn’t need it, so—” She cut off her bravado when she noticed his hard glare.
Frustrated and flustered, she slammed the package down on the counter and tore into the box. He tsked his tongue.
“Temper, temper.”
Seriously?
Emptying the box of the contents, she grabbed the cup to remove the lid.
“Give me the lid.” He held out his hand. “Just pee in the cup and put it on the counter.”
This was getting more intimate than she expected from him after such an already intense night.
Deciding it wasn’t worth arguing, she handed him the lid with the test strips and went over to the toilet. She hadn’t someone witness something so private since childhood. Trying to put his presence out of her mind, she pulled down her jeans and panties and placed the cup between her legs.
He’s not there. He’s not watching.
At least he remained quiet, except once she started to go, the sound seemed to echo in the bathroom. Looking at him wasn’t a possibility. She studied the floral pattern on the shower curtain until she thought she’d filled the cup enough for the test. Placing the cup back on the counter, she quickly wiped and yanked up her pants.
He took the cup before she could hand it to him and screwed on the lid, tilting it to rest on the plastic legs. “Takes five minutes,” he said.
She ignored him and went about washing her hands.
“Blushing looks good on you. I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
She snapped her focus to him. “What?”
“You’re blushing. It’s cute.” He shrugged his big shoulders.
She inhaled a deep breath through her nose and yanked the hand towel off the round rack on the wall and dried her hands. “My humiliation is cute?”
“No, humiliation would be fucking hot. This was a little embarrassing, and you did great.” He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to her lips.
When he pulled back with a grin, she touched her mouth. She hadn’t been kissed in a long time. Jimmy never kissed her.
“Yes, blushing looks very good on you.” He touched her cheek.
The bathroom started to get warm, and she took a small step back from him.
He looked at his watch. “Another minute. So, why are you looking for your mom?”
She refocused her mind to stay with the change of subject. “Mom hasn’t been herself in a long time. Since I moved out on my own, she’s gotten mixed up with some horrible people, doing stupid things. But I haven’t been able to contact her for the last six months. Her apartment was cleared out and her phone isn’t working.”
“She hasn’t contacted you?”
“No. Not once. And that’s what makes me think something’s wrong. We have our differences, but she’s never just disappeared before. We have a better relationship than that.”
John’s brow furrowed momentarily then smoothed out. “Okay, we’ll figure it out then.”
He picked up the test and nodded before reaching around her to toss it in the trashcan.
“Well?”
“Negative like I thought.” He walked out of the bathroom, with her on his heels.
“You didn’t think I was doing drugs? Then why make me take the damn test?” she asked as he led her to the bedroom next to the washroom.
“Oh, I was positive you weren’t doing drugs.” He ran his hand down her arm, gripping it and pulling her closer to him. “I wanted to be sure you’d follow my directions, be obedient. And you were.” He kissed her again. A longer, deeper kiss that sucked the air out of her lungs and the protest out of her mind. “You were a good girl. A very good kitten. We’ll talk more in the morning. Get undressed and go to sleep.”
She could only stare at him as he stepped out of the room and closed the door. What the fuck just happened?
A very good kitten?
She’d need to wring out her panties before she went to bed.
Chapter Six
John stared down the woman standing with her arms folded across her chest and what she surely thought was an intimidating glare fixated on him.
He let out a long breath. “I already told you, I’ll take you to your apartment after we stop at the precinct so you can give your statement.”
“I can’t go in the same clothes I wore last night, John,” she repeated for the third time.
“The precinct is on the way. Look, I’m not debating this, nor am I explaining it. We are going to the station, you’ll give your report—where no one will remember what the hell you were wearing last night—and then we’ll go to your apartment.” He grabbed her jack
et from the front closet and held it out for her slip her arm in.
Applying the ointment and re-bandaging her arm had hurt. She hadn’t complained, but he could see it written on her face. Normally, seeing pain dancing on a woman’s face got his dick hard. But this wasn’t good pain; pleasure didn’t dance just below the surface. His heart hurt seeing it and made him want to find the assholes who were responsible for her being hurt. It didn’t matter she shouldn’t have been there in the first place.
“It’s not that they’ll remember; they’re dirty. They smell nasty. All the smoke and whatever else that stench was.” She dropped her arms to her sides, but still made no move to put on the jacket.
“Fine.” He stalked off down the hall to his bedroom. “Come here,” he called when she hadn’t followed him.
He tossed the jacket onto his bed and dug around his drawers until he found something workable. “Here.” He tossed a shirt on the bed.
“Pants, John. I need pants,” she declared, picking up the black t-shirt he’d tossed on the mattress.
“What you need is a good spanking, but we don’t have time.” He shoved the drawer closed and moved to the hope chest in the far corner of the room. “But you can count on one when we get back,” he stated firmly as he pushed blankets to the side and pulled out a skirt an old girlfriend had left behind and never came back for.
He snagged the skirt and tossed it on the bed. “Change. I’ll be at the front door. Five minutes and we leave even if you’re in your damn panties.” She opened her mouth, ready to unleash on him probably, but he didn’t have the patience for it. He knew she was hurting, but his limit for the attitude was fast approaching.
