I’m not sure how long we doze but I am awakened by the sound of an earth-shattering scream. The kind you hear in horror movies, and when my eyes fly open, I realize that the scream is coming from me. I sit up quickly, completely terrified.
“Samantha!” Josh’s voice is full of concern and I am instantly comforted to find him at my side. One arm is around my waist and the other hand is in my hair, brushing it from my eyes. “Hey. Baby, it was just a dream. Just a bad dream. That’s all.”
“Josh,” I sob, clinging to him in the darkness.
“It’s all right, baby,” he says, folding me into his arms. “I’m here. I’m right here. You’re safe with me.” He cradles me in his arms and kisses the top of my head and I know that I am safe with him. He holds me close for several minutes and then asks, “You okay? Do you need some water?”
“I’m okay now,” I say softly.
“Do you have nightmares often, Sam?” he asks me, and I hear a trace of something in his voice but, I can’t place it.
“No,” I tell him quietly. “Only since I was assaulted. I hadn’t had any since leaving the hospital. I guess it was just seeing that creep today.”
“Do you remember what it was about?” he asks me. “Did you see his face?”
“No,” I sob, getting agitated again. “Just a faceless man with a tattoo, chasing me.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, trying to soothe me as he takes me into his arms again. “Let’s lay back down, all right?” He takes me into his arms and holds me close, his arms wrapped tightly around me as he kisses the top of my head once more. “Go back to sleep, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
*****
A ringing phone shatters the silence in my dark bedroom, startling me, and I jump about a foot, causing Josh to tighten his arms around me reflexively. I turn and reach for my cellphone, trying to make note of the time as I do but, my eyes are too blurry and sleepy to make it out.
“Hello?” My voice is raspy and still quite drowsy, and I wonder idly who is calling in the middle of the night. And in the instant that thought crosses my mind, I know that it’s him. The man with the tattoo. A sliver of fear and dread runs up my spine as I hear the creepy mechanical music over the phone, and I am now wide awake.
“No.” My voice is a frightened whisper and I feel Josh place his hand on my back in a reassuring gesture.
“Why are you not alone, Samantha?” The voice is mechanically altered and slightly taunting. “Are you afraid of me? Or are you screwing the detective?” he asks harshly and I gasp loudly.
“Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?” I scream, and Josh sits up, taking the phone from my hand. Through my tears I see that Josh is listening intently to whatever he’s hearing on the other end of the phone line but he hangs up quickly.
“Sam, was that this asshole again?” His voice is worried and insistent as he reaches over to turn on the light.
“Didn’t you hear him?” I wail, looking at him in disbelief.
“No. All I heard was music,” he says definitively. “Like from one of those wind-up music boxes.”
“Yes, just like last time,” I tell him plaintively. He reaches up and gently wipes the tears from my cheeks.
“What did he say to you?” he demands softly, looking deep into my eyes.
I look at him, feeling intense fear as I remember the caller’s chilling words. “He’s watching me, Josh. He’s following me. He knows you’re here.”
“What did he say, Samantha?” His voice is more insistent. Urgent even.
“He said … um, he asked me why I wasn’t alone,” I say, my voice frantic and shaky. “He asked if I was screwing the detective.”
At my words, Josh looks as if he’s been slapped in the face. “He said that?” he demands to know. “Those were his exact words? ‘Are you screwing the detective?’”
“Yes,” I nod, and the tears begin to flow again. “He knows that you’re here. He must have watched you come in.”
“Fuck!”
Pierced By Love
Prologue
A ringing phone shatters the stillness, waking me with a start once again. My arms tighten around Samantha when she jumps at the startling noise, and I groan in protest as she moves to answer it. And I wonder who the hell is calling at this hour. Must be at least two in the morning by now, right?
“Hello?” Sam’s voice sounds raspy and groggy, and I know instinctively that whoever is on the other end of the line is not bearing good news. Not at this hour. Ten years on the police force has taught me that much.
“No.” Samantha’s voice is barely a whisper and it’s full of fear. And knowing how close she is to her brother and her cousin, I find myself hoping that nothing has happened to either one of them, for her sake. Reaching out in the darkness, I place my hand on her naked back and rub it lightly, in a reassuring gesture. She is silent for a moment as she listens to whoever it is, and I start to run the different scenarios through my head: car accident, heart attack, someone’s been arrested. The possibilities are endless really.
“Who are you?” Samantha suddenly screams into the phone and I realize then that her caller is not relaying family news. It’s this fucker again … the asshole who attacked her and followed her around the museum! “Why are you doing this to me?” She screams as I sit up beside her and take the phone away from her. Listening carefully, I hear what sounds like creepy, mechanical music, and I disconnect the call.
“Sam, was that this asshole again?” I ask her as I reach over to turn on the light. My voice sounds worried and demanding, and Sam looks at me with big, scared eyes.
“Didn’t you hear him?” she asks in disbelief.
“No. All I heard was music. Like from one of those wind-up music boxes,” I tell her as the tears begin to fall onto her cheeks.
“Yes, just like last time,” she quietly sobs, and I reach out with both hands and gently wipe her tears away.
“What did he say to you?” I ask her, looking deep into her sad, green eyes.
She hesitates briefly, and she looks so scared as she recalls the conversation. “He’s watching me, Josh,” she whispers fearfully. “He’s following me. He knows you’re here.”
Knows I’m here? What the hell is she talking about? “What did he say, Samantha?” I demand once more. And my voice has taken on a slightly urgent tone.
“He said … um, he asked me why I wasn’t alone,” she says quietly. And her voice is small and shaky. “He asked if I was screwing the detective.”
Whoa. This thing just took a major left turn. And I think I can feel the color draining from my face. “He said that?” I demand to know, looking at her intently. “Those were his exact words? ‘Are you screwing the detective?’”
“Yes,” she says softly. And the word is a frightened whisper as the tears begin to flow once more. “He knows that you’re here. He must have watched you come in.”
At her words I feel an ominous shiver run up my spine and I can’t help but wonder exactly what kind of sick son of a bitch we’re dealing with here. If that really was him that Sam saw at the museum and he really was following her, then this thing goes much deeper than a random attack in a deserted parking lot. Who is this asshole and what does he want with her?
“Fuck!”
Chapter One
Joshua
It’s barely light outside, must be about 5:30 in the morning. Sam stirs slightly in my arms and I tighten my hold around her, pulling her closer to me. She had a difficult night, tossing and turning for most of it. She only slept soundly when she was wrapped in my arms. Me, on the other hand, I’ve been up most of the night, thinking about that phone call. Now I’m wishing more than ever that she had changed her cell number when I suggested it a few days ago. But I know that if she had, we still wouldn’t know for sure that this asshole is actually watching her. At least now, I know that we need to step up our game to ensure her safety until we can get a lead on this jerk.
Who is this asshole
and what is his end game? That question has kept me up half the night and I’m starting to think that this fucker has just fixated on her, like a stalker. And if that’s the case, then he is probably willing to go pretty far in order to make a big impression on her. Like assaulting her in a deserted parking lot. And my gut tells me that next time, he’s going to want to go big or go home. Plus, now he knows that I’m in the picture and that I’m more than just casually invested in this case. And that thought makes me afraid for Samantha’s safety. Afraid for her life. I’d like to lock her away in this apartment and order her to remain safely inside until we catch this guy but, I know that’s never going to happen. In the short time that I’ve known her, I’ve learned she’s strong willed, determined and hard-headed. No way I’m getting her to stay away from the museum for a few days. So I’ve got to figure out a way to keep her safe while she’s there.
She stirs again and she mumbles this time and whines. No doubt dreaming again. At least she hasn’t woken up screaming like she did last night. God, that scream could wake the dead. And as the thought flits through my mind, I can’t help but think about my own nightmares, especially the one that always has me waking up screaming. The one where I relive that night over and over again in my mind. And I frown as I wonder at the fact that I still haven’t had a nightmare. Not once since I started sleeping with Samantha. I don’t understand that; it just doesn’t make any sense to me. The last nightmare I remember having was the night I spent on her couch after her first phone call from this creep. That was days ago. What’s changed?
As far as I can tell, the only thing that’s changed is that now Sam and I are sleeping together. That can’t be the reason my nightmares have suddenly vanished, can it? Does it even work that way? Maybe it’s just because you’ve got a warm body to hold onto and snuggle up with, Pierce. Like a teddy bear? I roll my eyes at myself for even thinking it.
“Josh?”
Her soft sweet voice pulls me out of my introspection and I glance down and meet her uncertain gaze. “Good morning, baby,” I whisper and lightly kiss her forehead.
“What time is it?” she asks, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“It’s early yet,” I tell her softly. “The alarm hasn’t even gone off.” I study her face for a moment. She looks tired. And worried. I kiss her forehead once more and hug her tightly. “You didn’t sleep worth crap, Sam. Why don’t you call in sick and stay put today? Get some rest.”
“I can’t do that, Josh. I just got this position,” she says grumpily as she begins to sit up. I knew she wouldn’t go for it but, I had to suggest it anyway. I sit up beside her and stretch as I prepare to enter a battle of wills with her.
“Well, if you’re going to insist on going to work, then I have a couple of demands of my own,” I tell her, fixing her with an expression that lets her know I mean business.
“What kind of demands?” She frowns at me.
“For starters, I’m driving you to work,” I tell her and her frown gets deeper.
“Josh … ”
“I’ll pick you up when you get off and bring you back home,” I cut her off, and she just stares at me for a minute like I’ve lost my mind.
“But, Josh, you have to work too,” she protests.
“That’s all right. I see making sure you get home safely as part of my job,” I tell her.
“Yeah, well what’s your partner going to think of that?” she shoots back.
“Once he hears about the phone call you got last night, he’s going to agree with me,” I counter. “Trust me!” She rolls her eyes at me to express her displeasure and it pisses me off slightly. Well, if she liked that, then she’s really going to love this next part. “I also think you might want to look into some personal protection.”
“Personal protection?” she questions, her voice rising a few decibels. “Are you talking about a bodyguard?” Now she really is looking at me as if I’m crazy.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Samantha,” I confirm, and both my voice and my expression tell her that I’m not playing here. “What about that guy who stood outside your hospital room last week? I assume he works for your family’s company?”
“Yes,” she sighs, and I can see her spirits falling.
“Well, I would suggest you call your brother and get him to assign someone to be with you at the museum.”
“Josh, the museum is a public place,” she says with exasperation. “I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah? Just like you were fine yesterday when you noticed this asshole was watching you at work?” I know that my words are harsh and I can see that they have the intended effect on her. She is now sufficiently scared. I feel like a jerk for doing this to her but, I need for her to take this seriously. Her life could depend on it. “And he told you last night that he is watching you constantly. He knew that I was still here at two something in the morning, and my guess is that he wasn’t very happy about it! You need someone protecting you when I can’t be by your side, Samantha.”
She is looking at me with big pools of green sadness and I just want to fold her into my arms and keep her safe. I watch, feeling helpless, as she wipes a stray tear from her cheek and then seems to accept her fate. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly and nods at me.
“It’s just until we catch this asshole, Sam,” I tell her, my voice softening as I tuck a strand of her beautiful hair behind her ear, and she nods again. I reach over and grab her cellphone from the bedside table. “Call your brother,” I tell her quietly.
“Only when I’m at work, right?” she asks plaintively, and her tear-filled eyes search mine. “I don’t want a full-time bodyguard, Josh. I don’t want to live like that!”
She looks so unhappy and I just want to make her tears stop. I reach out and wipe her damp cheeks with my thumbs. “Baby, it’s just until we catch this creep,” I repeat, feeling helpless. I fucking hate feeling helpless and I really want to catch this jerk and beat his ass for tormenting Sam like this.
She takes the phone from my hand and I listen as she makes the call, telling her brother that she wants a close protection detail to be with her at work and explaining why. She tells him about the incident at the museum yesterday but, I note she doesn’t tell him about the phone call. I think that’s wise. The fewer people who know, the better. She hangs up the phone and looks up at me. “Good girl,” I tell her, as I lean in and kiss her forehead.
I get her up and get her moving then, and I notice that she’s a little despondent. Not at all the bright, carefree girl I’ve woken up with the past two days, and I’m more than a little worried about her. As she showers, I call Conner and let him know that I’m going to be a little late this morning. And once Sam and I are dressed and have a simple breakfast of bagels and fruit and coffee, we head out and I take her to work.
I wait with her at the museum entrance until her security detail, Mr. Martin, arrives. It’s the same man who stood watch at her hospital room, keeping away the paparazzi, and I can tell that he’s surprised to see me there with her. I can see the speculation in his eyes as he keeps a respectful distance, and I wonder how closely he’s been ordered to report back to Sam’s brother. I also wonder if Samantha cares how much her brother knows about us. Too late to ask now.
“I’ll be back at four to pick you up,” I tell her and she nods at me.
“Thank you, Josh,” she says, fixing me with those magical eyes of hers, and I can’t help but melt. And I suddenly don’t give a shit what Mr. Martin reports back to her brother. I reach out and caress her face with my hand.
“Call me if you need me,” I say, holding her gaze, and she nods again and gives me a small smile. I lean in and kiss her lips chastely. Then I turn and walk toward the doors, nodding to Martin as I go. He returns my nod and I stride out of the building and to my truck.
When I get to the station, I make a beeline for Conner and I find him down by the vending machines, grabbing a caffeine fix. “Hey, Dave,” I confront him as he upends a b
ottle of soda. He frowns at me.
“You look like shit, Guy. You sick or something?”
“Gee thanks,” I say sarcastically. “No, I’m not sick. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, holding up one hand, “I don’t need to hear the details.”
“Actually, you do,” I tell him seriously as I glance around to make sure we’re not overheard. “First off, Samantha had a nightmare. Woke up around midnight, screaming bloody murder.”
“What was that about?” he asks, taking another swig of his soda.
“She said she was being chased by a faceless man with the tattoo on his neck,” I shrug. “But it gets better. I get her back to sleep, and around two in the morning, she gets another phone call from this asshole.”
“Again?” His voice is incredulous, as if he can’t believe it, and I nod at him. “What did he say this time?”
“He asked her why she wasn’t alone,” I say, keeping my voice low so that I’m not overheard by the few guys that go walking past us in the hallway. “He asked her if she was fucking the detective.”
“Are you shitting me?” he asks, his voice raised in surprise. “He said that?”
“Yeah. He’s watching her, Conner,” I tell him definitively. “And now he’s pissed because he knows he doesn’t have her all to himself.”
“And he knows you’re a fucking cop,” Conner adds. “That’s not good, Guy. He could go after her now just to prove a point to you.”
“I know,” I say with a nod of my head. “I didn’t say anything to Sam. I didn’t want to freak her out any more than she already is.”
Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set Page 25
