Every Breath You Take (Redeeming Love Book 2)

by J. E. Parker

  Table of Contents

  Warning

  Shelby

  Anthony

  Also by JE Parker

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Every Breath You Take

  A Redeeming Love Novel (Book Two)

  JE Parker

  Photography by Michael Stokes

  Cover Model Kyle Clarke

  Cover Design by Letitia Hasser

  Contents

  Warning

  1. Shelby

  2. Shelby

  3. Anthony

  4. Shelby

  5. Shelby

  6. Shelby

  7. Shelby

  8. Anthony

  9. Anthony

  10. Shelby

  11. Shelby

  12. Anthony

  13. Shelby

  14. Anthony

  15. Shelby

  16. Shelby

  17. Shelby

  18. Anthony

  19. Anthony

  20. Shelby

  21. Anthony

  22. Shelby

  23. Anthony

  24. Shelby

  25. Shelby

  26. Shelby

  27. Shelby

  28. Shelby

  29. Shelby

  30. Anthony

  31. Shelby

  32. Shelby

  33. Anthony

  34. Shelby

  35. Anthony

  36. Shelby

  37. Shelby

  38. Anthony

  39. Shelby

  40. Shelby

  41. Shelby

  42. Shelby

  43. Anthony

  Also by JE Parker

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2018 by J.E. Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by the copyright law.

  Resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  Christina Youngren.

  Without you this book wouldn’t exist.

  You walked me through all the self-doubt, tears, and late night writing sessions.

  You are the definition of a true friend.

  Thank you for being the Maddie to my Shelby.

  Warning

  This book contains dark themes that may be disturbing for some readers.

  “She wasn’t looking for a knight, she was looking for a sword.”

  —Atticus

  1

  Shelby

  It was a Friday, half past three in the afternoon.

  Sporting a pair of cheap sunglasses I’d bought for a buck at the local flea market, I climbed out of my old pickup truck and stepped directly into the scorching Georgia sun. Beads of sweat broke out along my brow and down the length of my spine.

  “Lord have mercy, it’s hotter than Satan’s toenails out here,” I mumbled to myself, slamming the truck door shut with more force than necessary.

  Wearing a pinched expression on my face, I squared my shoulders, hoofed it across Main Street and climbed the concrete steps that led to the entrance of the Toluca PD, the small-town police station I’d begun to refer to as Hell on Earth. I dreaded stepping a single foot into the dang place, but I didn’t have any other choice. Much as I hated to admit it, I needed the police on my side.

  When I reached the top of the steps, I pushed through the building’s front door. Cold air blowing from an overhead vent danced across my skin, and a bell chimed, signaling my arrival.

  Across the empty lobby, Officer Williams—a man I’d come to loathe over the last few months—didn’t bother to look up from the stack of paperwork he held in his hand to see who’d just walked in. Thirty or so seconds of silence ticked by before he finally barked, “How can I help you?” in a tone one would use when speaking to a dog.

  The man had no social skills whatsoever.

  Sliding my sunglasses to the top of my head, I placed my hands on my hips and waited for him to lift his head and personally acknowledge me. I was so damn tired of him and the rest of the inept buffoons that worked at Toluca PD. They never showed me any respect, and I was at the end of my rope with each one of them.

  It’s a miracle I haven’t strangled one—or all—of them by now.

  When the asshole still didn’t bother to look up, I cleared my throat and began to tap my sandal-covered foot against the tiled floor. His head jerked up at the sound, and his bloodshot eyes met mine.

  It looks like somebody stayed up all night drinking.

  With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the paperwork he held clutched between his fingers to the desk. “Well, Mrs. Mason.” He looked annoyed as could be. Whether that annoyance was from the hangover he was likely sporting or the fact that I was standing fifteen feet in front of him, I didn’t know. “What can I help you with today?”

  With a fake smile plastered across my face, I dropped my hands from my curvy hips and sauntered over to the front desk where he sat. The yellow sundress that I wore twirled around my thighs, pulling Officer Williams' gaze from my face to the bare expanse of my smooth, tanned legs.

  Pervy old bastard.

  “Well, good afternoon, Officer Williams. I’m doing just fine,” I replied to his non-existent question in a saccharine sweet voice. “How are you on this lovely summer day?”

  He thinned his lips and gritted his back teeth together. “Fine, Mrs. Mason.” His left cheek twitched with each word he spoke. “I’m doing just fine.”

  I placed my elbows on the desk and glared at him through narrowed eyes. “That’s good.” No longer able to see my legs, his eyes flitted to my chest. The man may have hated me, but he sure didn’t mind ogling my body every chance he got. His lecherous stare made my belly churn with disgust.

  The man makes me so damn sick!

  “Soooooo”—I drummed my fingers along the top of the mahogany desk—“I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here, huh?”

  He didn’t respond.

  No surprise there.

  “Well,” I said, shifting my weight between my feet, “seems I have a little issue that needs resolving.”

  Before I could say another word, the wooden door behind the front desk opened and Officer Ryan, another man I was all too familiar with, stepped into the room with Officer Williams and me. His hard eyes met mine, and a lone expletive spilled from his chapped lips. “Shit.”

  I quirked a brow. “Well, I’ll be, Officer Ryan. Tell me, is that how you greet all concerned citizens or am I just extra special?”

  He slid his hands into his pockets and looked at me with a bored expression plastered across his acne-riddled face. “What seems to be the problem today, Mrs. Mason?”

  My drumming fingers ceased all movement.

  “It’s Ms. Mason,” I spat in a less than friendly tone. “And my problem—” I cocked my hip to the side and paused for emphasis “—is this department’s complete incompetence when it comes to doing their damn jobs and protecting the good citizens of Toluca County.”

  At my harsh words, both officers' backs straightened.

  Offended, are we? Good!

  “Incompetence?” Officer Williams asked in disbelief. “How in the world do you figure we’re incompetent?” Eyes bulging, he looked at me with disdain. “In case you haven’t noticed, our county has one of the lowest crime rates in the state. That statistic i
n itself proves we are far from incompetent.”

  A humorless chuckle spilled from my perfectly glossed lips. “I’m not sure if you’re delusional or just plain crazy. Though my money is riding on crazy.” I tossed him a sarcastic wink, and his eyes narrowed in response. Apparently, he didn’t like to be challenged. That sucked for him because I was itching for a fight. “That line may work on the mayor, but it doesn’t fly with me.” Hooking my thumb over my shoulder, I pointed out the door behind me. “In case you haven’t noticed”—I parroted his words back to him—“Toluca has a bit of a meth problem.”

  “Ms. Mason—” Officer Ryan tried to interject.

  I, however, cut him off.

  “No,” I barked, holding up my hand to halt whatever staunch denial he was about to sling my way. “Don’t even try to argue with me. The average citizen may not realize what’s going on around here but I sure as hell do. And the fact that you’re going to stand there and try to deny it while simultaneously looking me in the eyes only serves to piss me off further.”

  On a roll, I slammed my right hand down on the top of the desk and continued my tirade before either of them got a word in edgewise.

  “Every single day I witness a handful of drug dealers set up shop within a hundred yards of the shelter. Not to mention”—my voice rose with each word—“I’ve had to run off a pimp named D-Boy from loitering at the front gate twice within the last week. My best guess is the son of a bitch was there to recruit a few of my residents.”

  My eye twitched at the thought.

  “Despite all of that, you want to know what I haven’t seen?” Neither officer responded, so I kept speaking. “What I haven’t seen, not once in the last week, is a single damn patrol car!”

  At this point I was irate. Thinking about D-Boy and the vile words he’d spewed all over me when I’d confronted him standing outside the Toluca Battered Women’s Shelter where I worked made my blood boil. It was bad enough we had meth dealers opening up shop all around us but add in a pimp or two, and I was ready to start running people over with my truck.

  The problem needed handling.

  Like, right the hell now.

  “Ms. Mason,” Officer Ryan said in a placating tone, “I understand your concern. However, you should understand that the shelter where you’re employed is a magnet for less than stellar activity. You have residents who—”

  My head snapped back as if I’d been slapped. “You have got to be shitting me!” I hollered loud enough to make everyone’s ears ring. Allowing myself a moment to get my crazy under control, I closed my eyes and sent up a prayer to a higher power.

  Lord, grant me patience because if you give me strength I may just end up on the five o’clock news for beating a man—or two—to death.

  I inhaled through my nose and opened my eyes. My gaze met Officer Ryan’s, and he withered under my scathing glare. Pointing a lone finger at him, I barked, “Listen, Deputy Dawg—” I giggled at the insult “—you better not be about to tell me it’s my residents' fault for the increase in crime. Because if you are, then I’m warning you now—this will turn ugly, really fricken fast.”

  Officer Ryan held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean to imply that it was any of the residents’ fault. All I’m saying is that places like shelters are beacons for criminal activity.”

  My head began to spin, and I swear my brain was seconds away from exploding. “Beacons for criminal activity…” I repeated his words in a hushed whisper. Tilting my head to the side, I squinted. “And why do you think that is?”

  “I…” His mouth opened and closed in rapid succession as he floundered for something to say. “I’m not sure. I just—”

  The bell above the front door chimed, cutting off Officer Ryan’s words. His eyes moved from me to whoever had just walked in. In a flash, his face dropped, and his eyes hardened even further. The annoyed expression he’d been shooting my way morphed into something darker, something more hateful. “Moretti,” he said with a curt nod.

  The person behind me didn’t reply.

  I moved my gaze to the right and noticed that Officer Williams’ facial expression mirrored Officer Ryan’s. Lips pinched into a thin line, his eyes filled with something akin to malice.

  Wracked with curiosity, I removed my arms from the top of the desk, hefted my purse higher on my shoulder and prepared to turn on my heel. I wanted to see who had caused such a strong reaction from Deputy Dawg and his sidekick, Officer Dickhead.

  That’s when I pivoted in place and came face to face with him for the first time.

  Lord have mercy, I thought. This man can’t be real.

  For a moment, I thought I must be hallucinating because standing less than ten feet away from me was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He was tall, maybe an inch or two over six foot. He had light brown, curly hair that was cut short and styled perfectly. His skin was olive toned, and he had a chiseled jaw. His cheekbones were high, and his lips were full and firm.

  The man reminded me of a Greek god.

  No joke.

  He was panty-melting perfect. If I were any other girl, perhaps one who hadn’t sworn off men indefinitely, I would’ve been all over him. Moving my gaze from the top of his head to the tips of his shoes, I allowed my hungry eyes to trace every inch of him. I didn’t even bother to hide my unrelenting stare.

  After unabashedly gawking at him for a good minute, I looked back up.

  When striking steel-grey eyes met mine, the world around me shifted.

  The floor beneath my feet seemed to roll, and I could’ve sworn the walls were beginning to close in on me. My respiration increased; the air surrounding me grew thick. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to suck in a breath. It was like my traitorous lungs had decided to go on strike and were refusing to function. Not to mention, my poor little heart was pounding so hard I feared I was moments away from having a heart attack.

  If I pass out, please let him be the one to give me CPR.

  I blinked, completely taken aback by the ridiculous thoughts running amuck through my head. Never in my life had anyone—much less a man—invoked such a reaction from me. It was ridiculous.

  Calm the hell down, you nutjob, it’s just a guy.

  A very hot guy but still … just a guy.

  The man slid his hands into his pockets. He turned to face me fully, and I couldn’t help but notice his broad shoulders. “Can I help you, Miss...” His deep, accented voice—Is he from New York?—trailed off as he looked over my shoulder to the two asshats standing behind me. I was working on pulling myself together and answering him when Officer Williams—the bastard—spoke on my behalf.

  “Mason,” he snapped in a pissy tone. “Her name is Shelby Mason, and she was just paying us one of her bi-weekly visits.”

  His damn voice grated on my nerves. It was worse than nails on a chalkboard.

  I turned my head and looked at him over my shoulder. “You may not think much of me, Officer Dickhead, but I'm plenty capable of speaking for myself.” I paused and bit the inside of my cheek. If I didn’t get a handle on my anger, I was bound to get arrested for assault on a police officer. “And if you doughnut chasing jackasses would just do your jobs, I wouldn’t have to drag my rear end in here twice a week.” He opened his mouth to speak, but once again, I cut him off. “Because, trust me, numbnuts, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. I’ve got better things to do than spend my afternoons arguing with a man who reeks of stale booze and body odor.”

  With that, I turned my attention back to him; the man Officer Ryan had called Moretti. “Do you work here, sugar?”

  It was a stupid question considering the circumstances, but the man wasn’t wearing a police uniform so I didn’t know who he was. Yeah, he had a shiny police badge clipped to his belt, but I’d never seen him before. And trust me, I wouldn’t have forgetten a face like his. It didn’t matter if I’d committed myself to a life of celibacy, I still would have noticed him.

>   Hell, I doubted there was a woman on Earth who wouldn’t notice him.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, taking a step closer. “Been here about a month.”

  He held out his hand for me to shake.

  Butterflies took flight in my belly as I closed the space between us and placed my small hand in his much larger one. When his warm skin touched mine for the first time, electricity zinged up my arm. Startled, I ripped my hand from his and jumped back. Clutching my hand to my chest, I stared at him with wide eyes.

  What in the absolute hell was that?

  Tilting his head slightly to the right, he looked at me with curious eyes. I briefly wondered if he’d been zapped too. I wasn’t sure if I should apologize for shocking him or—

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Mason. I’m Detective Anthony Moretti.” He ceased speaking for a moment but continued to stare at me with an unyielding gaze. It made me feel funny, and I couldn’t help but squirm on the spot. At my obvious discomfort, the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile that was so dang perfect it should’ve been illegal. “I work in homicide, but I’d be more than happy to hear whatever concerns you may have.”

  Homicide? In Toluca? We had like five murders a year, though I had no doubt that number would grow if something wasn’t done about the increasing drug issue.