by Layne, Lyssa
The other two officers followed them back into the precinct.
Two hours later, Christine felt as if she’s walked into an alternate universe. In a matter of a few days she’d be shot at, threatened, and now someone was trying to run her over. Was she the target or was Brad.
Why was this happening? What had she ever done to anyone? Why did someone want either of them dead?
***
While they were out, Brad purchased a new cell phone and checked his voice mail. The only message on the machine came from the shop that had been fixing his motorcycle, stating the repairs were done ready for pick-up.
Brad checked his watch as Christine unlocked her apartment door. Noon already? He motioned her to stay back while he checked her apartment to make sure it was safe to enter. Once it was secured, he left her and went to his own place for a shower and clean clothes.
Brad returned and found Chris in the kitchen. He turned to ask Chris what she wanted for lunch, only to find her frozen in place, the telephone to her ear and her face white as a layer of fresh snow.
She held up the receiver in time for him to hear the tail end of the phone call. He recognized the voice as the same one who left him the threatening message on his voicemail.
“—if you’re a smart lady, you’ll stay the hell away from Maxwell. Now that we know you’ve gotten yourself involved, it just means we have another target.”
He heard the click as the caller abruptly hung up.
Brad pried the phone from her cold fingers with great difficulty. He led her into the living room where he sat on her couch, pulling her down with him. Her entire body shook uncontrollably. He pulled the comforter from behind the couch down around her and held her close.
“It's okay, baby. Everything will work out. Don't worry. You're safe with me.”
“I know,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I trust you.”
A wave of guilt rose up in his throat, taking away all his power to swallow the rising bile. She trusted him and look what happened her. If he were smart he’d drop her off at Jared’s and stay the hell away from her. This wasn't her fight. She shouldn't have to suffer the consequences. He hoped to hell she was safe with him.
“I can't leave you unprotected. It's obvious we're both being watched. Maybe it's related to an old drug deal or someone I put behind bars who’s out now.”
“Do you think that's it? Maybe they were aiming for you and got Marty instead? Think about it, the way Marty was facing when he shoved you, he probably saw the flash and pushed you out of the way.”
“I don't know, sweetheart. First chance I get, I'll head back to the office and give the cap an update. I'll convince him to put a tap on your phone in case you get any more calls.” He kissed the top of her head. She fit in his arm so perfectly. How could he doubt they belonged together? Did she feel the same?
“Maybe with these new revelations Captain Roberts will finally admit this is too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence and then he'll put out some additional help to clear you.” She sounded hopeful.
Thank God she believed in him. He hugged her tighter.
“It’s about damn time someone put out some effort in my favor. Damned if I'm not beginning to resent the force I once stood by so readily.” He snorted his disgust. “I think we need to consider moving to a hotel or safe house until this is over.”
Christine yawned. “You took the words right out of my mouth, big guy.” She yawned again and snuggled closer. He grinned. She was a rough, tough superwoman.
Brad cradled Christine in is arms until she fell asleep, then carried her to her bedroom and gently laid her on the plush spread. He pulled a thick afghan off the foot of the bed and covered her, then nestled in beside her. With dusk coming on fast, he kept her safely in his arms and placed a light kiss at her temple. He’d do everything in his power to protect her, but he couldn’t be with her all the time.
He'd have to make sure someone trustworthy stayed with her. That someone should be Jared. In the meantime, he'd call in the threat. Too bad Christine hadn't let the answering machine pick it up. As it stood, the phone call was hearsay. He'd have to talk fast to get Vince to agree to setting up a tap on her line.
She slept peacefully in his arms. He continued to wake her every couple of hours, even though she seemed fine. He wasn't taking any chances. She was one tough tomato. Never heard her complain, not even once.
It was well past midnight before he figured out enough of a plan to make sure she had round the clock protection whether with Jared, Joe, or himself.
One thing for certain, he’d put his life on the line for her no matter what. And as long as this investigation stood between them, he and Chris had to be careful. Not just with their relationship, but also with their lives.
Through it all, the one thing that had become crystal clear to him was the fact that he really wanted that chance for a future with her. Never before had he ever believed there was just one girl for him. If there was a God in heaven, he prayed he’d take mercy on his soul?
He’d grown up believing he wasn’t worthy of love. From the repeated beatings from his father until he grew strong enough to fight back. To his mother who left him without so much as a good-bye. Left him feeling he would never be able to give love, much less receive it. He wouldn't even be holding out any hope for a chance for him and Christine, if it weren't for his Grandparents. They gave him hope.
Sure he knew his grandparents loved him even if they weren’t his parents. They had seen him through the worst times of his life, well almost all of it. He could hear Gramps now, “Boy, only you know what’s in your heart. Ain’t nobody but you can see past all that hurt and pain to what’s hidden beneath. I know you had it rough. Ain’t no denyin’ it. But you can get past it if you give yourself half a chance.”
He’d replay gramps words over and over in his mind whenever he had questions and doubts. When life continued to beat him up, just like now, those words pulled him through time and again. Hell. Old habits died a slow death, but maybe his grandfather's wise words would give him the strength to keep Chris safe and clear his reputation? He had to believe it would work. He had to.
More and more he began to consider how he felt about the force. As far as he was concerned he’d been betrayed for the last time, and didn’t even feel much of an obligation to them anymore.
Retirement was starting to sound like a real possibility.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Christine leaned back into the warm body behind her. She had no idea where she was but she knew whose body was around her and she had no desire to move. In this darkened world she felt as safe as a pearl in an oyster at the bottom of the deepest part of the sea.
A set of soft lips nibbling at her neck left her tingling to the tip of her fuchsia colored toenails. She bent her neck to allow him more access to her shoulder then she snuggled closer to him.
“Mornin’ beautiful.”
That sexy voice. She'd know it anywhere. She'd stay asleep forever, frozen in time if it meant Brad would never leave her side.
Brad pulled her onto her back, then pressed his lips to hers.
When he pulled back, Christine blinked away the fine dredges of sleep and gazed up into the most beautiful set of green eyes. She reached up and caressed his stubbly cheeks. For the first time in her life, the man that held her attention didn’t have a clean shaven face. Normally facial hair turned her off. But on him, it only made him more handsome.
She inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent. Cologne: fresh, spicy, clean and masculine. He was definitely all male. She drew his mouth to hers and kissed his lips, her lifeline to a new world.
Christine reveled in the feeling of power she drew from his kiss. But, if she didn’t stop things now, she knew the situation would soon be out of hand. That’s not how she wanted their first time to be. She wanted it to be special. Free from troubles, safe from violence. Pure. Honest. Right.
With regret she broke the kiss, but softened the disa
ppointment by nibbling at the ticklish spot below his ear the same way he had kissed her awake.
“Honey, as much as I love your sweet kisses we need to get up and head down to the station. I want to give Roberts the details of that crank phone call you got last night while it’s fresh in our memories. I want them to wire your phone when they do mine.”
“Oh God, you had to remind me about that. Do you really think it’s going to help? I mean, it feels like whoever is doing this knows our every move.” She slumped from his arms and would have given anything to back up the clock by five minutes.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I’ve got that same feeling. I need to be in Roberts’s office when he comes in at seven this morning. How about we get an early start and I’ll treat you to breakfast on the way over?”
“Sure sailor. Throw in coffee and orange juice and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
She loved how he pressed against her. Time to get rolling or she'd be forced to ravish him. Forced? Yeah, right, she let out silent snort.
Dropping one last kiss on his lips, she rolled away being the strong one.
Thank God he was fully dressed and only needed to put on his shoes. She’d better get her butt in gear or who knows what would happen.
Brad was dressed and ready to go. “Where are your keys? I’m going to go warm up your car so you don’t get a chill.”
“I’m not going to break for cryin’ out loud. I’m a big girl. I even know how to start my own car.”
“That may be true, but sometimes a guy likes to treat his favorite girl like a princess. Are you going to begrudge me that?”
Her eyes welled as she reached for her purse. She pulled out a ring of keys and held it out for him. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
He took the keys then dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Give me about three minutes. Your car should be warm by then.”
She blew him an air kiss then shut the door behind him and leaned her forehead against it.
“Hey, get the hell away from that car!”
The sound of Brad’s furious voice made her grab for the knob.
She opened the door of her apartment and was nearly deafened by the explosion. She shut her eyes to the ball of fire that plumed high into the air from the hulk of metal that had been her car. She screamed at the sight of Brad tossed through the air, onto his back by the blast.
“Brad!” She lumbered to his side as the neighbors poured out of their homes. Christine dropped to her knees, her heart beating triple time in her chest. She cradled his head in her lap and kissed his eyes. “Don't you dare leave me, Brad Maxwell. Don't you even think about leaving me. Do you hear?” Her chest hurt and her lungs burned. She couldn't lose him. She loved him. Didn't he know that?
“Someone call an ambulance!” she cried. Heat from the flames made her skin hot to the touch, and the smell of gasoline, burning rubber, and singed hair filled her nose. The burning vehicle continue to send plumes of smoke high in the air.
Brad lay unconscious on the lawn in front of her apartment building, bleeding from the scalp, forehead, and nose. She checked both ears then breathed deeply, trying to clear her mind and remember her miniscule medical training. Without moving, fearful that the percussion of the blast had ruptured his eardrums, but she couldn’t remember what to check. She closed her eyes. Jesus, she was losing her mind. “Did someone call an ambulance?” she screamed.
The elderly neighbor who lived above her came out with a blanket in her hands.
“Christine, what can I do?”
Multiple sirens rent the air, it sounded as if an ambulance, the fire trucks, and the whole damned police department were on the way. Thank God.
“Hurry, and get me a pan of warm water, washcloths, towels and tweezers. There’s glass in his face. I want to clean him up as much as I can before the ambulance gets here. I’m afraid to move him but I have to do something.” Christine took the blanket, grateful for it, and draped it over Brad.
She gently brushed the hair out of his face as she waited for her neighbor to return.
By the time the ambulance and police arrived, she had done as much as she could for him. Each piece of glass she's removed made her flinch, empathy made her feel the pain as if it were being plucked from her own skin. She wiped away tears, irritated that she couldn't be stronger for him. She crooned soft words to him, brushed hair away from his forehead, and softly threatened him with his life if he died on her. She wanted to rock him in her arms, but she didn't dare move him.
After what seemed like a lifetime, she relinquished his still form to the EMT’s. She caught the arm of the officer in charge while keeping her eye on Brad. “Can you please call Detective Joe Gallagher and have him meet me at the hospital?”
“Yes, Ma'am. We'll get him for you.” The young officer turned and spoke into the microphone attached to his uniform. Christine rubbed the chill from her arms. Brad paced when he was nervous. She'd heard that pacing would take the edge off any problem. She'd have to pace for a hundred years to take the edge off this one. Suddenly she came to an abrupt halt as the EMT’s moved Brad from the ground to the gurney and loaded him into the ambulance.
“Can I go with you?” she implored.
“You'll have to ride up front, Ma'am.”
She nodded agreement then turned to her neighbor, “Judy, thank you so much for your help. Can you lock up for me?”
“Sure thing. The super is on his way to board up some broken windows. Looks like yours are missing completely.”
She didn’t even bother to look because it didn't matter. Only Brad mattered right now.
“Thank you, Judy, I—” She bit back a sob as she kept an eye on the EMT’s still working on him. “I'll call you later,” she finally managed to say.
“Don't worry, Honey. No problem. Good luck with that young man of yours.”
Christine hopped into the ambulance wishing she could at least hold his hand. She had to bite her tongue to keep from verbally pushing the EMT’s to move faster.
Once they departed for the hospital, they raced through intersections, careened around corners, sirens wailing.
The EMT named Parker checked Brad's IV line.
Christine had seen his name tag as well as the driver Jackson's tag. She turned her head at the sound of a blood pressure cuff inflating.
Parker was relaying information to the hospital on Brad's condition.
She buried her face in her hands then quickly twisted her body as she heard Brad call her name. He was conscious. She smiled for him. “I'm here, Brad. I'm not going anywhere.” When they pulled up at the hospital she jumped out of the ambulance to take hold of his hand as they wheeled him into the emergency room. She kissed his forehead before they took him into one of the treatment rooms.
Twenty minutes later Christine leaning against the window, her breath fogging the glass.
She turned at the touch of her arm and looked up to see Joe.
“You looked like hell, are you hurt?” He scanned her up and down as if searching for injuries.
She crumbled and flung her arms around his neck, sobbing. Her body trembled.
“Hey, now. Take it easy.”
“What if he doesn’t make it?”
“Are you kidding?” The guy is made of steel. Nothing can hurt him.”
He was lying for her sake, but she appreciated his positive spirit. God, she hoped he wasn't blowing smoke out his ass.
Christine stepped back from him. “You didn’t see all the blood.”
Glancing down at her clothes, his face went ashen. “Listen, you sit here and I’ll go see if I can’t find out what’s going on.” He escorted her to a chair and gently pushed her into it.
“Okay, but hurry. I’m so worried.” She sat perched on the edge of the rigid plastic seat and wiped the tears from her eyes.
Joe stood a few feet away at the nurse’s station, his nose wrinkled.
She too hated the smell of antiseptics, body fluids, and death. The attending nurs
e directed him to the last treatment room on the left.
She looked up when she heard the sound of Joe laughing following by Brad cussing at the doctor who tried to convince him to lie back down. She caught a glimpse of Joe pushing Brad back into the room when Brad called her name. She wanted to run to him, but Joe seemed to have better control of the situation. She’d just make things worse.
Brad took another step toward the door, but damn it hurt. He needed to make sure Chris was okay.
“Hey Buddy, why don’t you just clam up until the doctor can give you a clean bill of health. Chris is in the waiting room and if she hears your big mouth, she’s going to start panicking and there’s no telling what she’ll do.” Joe laid his hands on Brad's shoulders and ushered him back to the examining table. “After the way she blasted the Captain, I have no intention of being anywhere near when she goes off again.”
They turned together as Captain Roberts entered, silencing them with a feral look. “Doctor, what’s wrong with Detective Maxwell?”
“Speak of the devil,” Joe said.
“Thanks to an extremely hard head and an equally sour disposition, not a damn thing. I worried about concussion, because he was unconscious for so long, but the CAT scan revealed that the piece of concrete he calls a head is intact. Other than the ringing in his ears, he should be fine in about forty-eight hours.”
The doctor signed off Brad's release papers then ushered the men into the physician’s office per the captain's request. Once the door was closed, the captain got down to business. “Okay Maxwell. What the hell happened out there?” He stood, arms akimbo and a king-sized scowl on his face.
“I walked out of Christine's apartment to start her car and caught a white male, early twenties, squatting down near the passenger's side door of her car.” Brad gingerly ran his fingers through his matted hair. “As I started toward him, he retreated and that's when the car blew up in a cloud of fire and smoke. Knocked me on my ass, that's for sure.” He winced in pain and grabbed his ribs.
“Okay. I'll have the bomb squad investigate. They can pinpoint what type bomb was used. Maybe the guy left enough clues to catch him.” Captain Roberts planted his hands in his back pockets and continued to scowl.
