Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set

by Lashell Collins

  “Nah, I’ll take care of it,” he says, looking at me, and I get a little skeptical.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask, narrowing my eyes as I look at him.

  He shrugs at me. “Maybe I think Samantha Colby’s not the only one who’s had a rough time of it today.” He looks me in the eye as he continues. “I know that Marcos just ordered you to keep your distance but … I also know you. And I know it’s got to be killing you, not being with her right now. I’m sure you’ll be looking to rectify that situation just as soon as you can get out of here so … I’ll handle the paperwork.”

  “Conner, I…”

  “Nope.” He holds up a hand to silence me. “I don’t need to know. Just go take care of your girl.”

  Chapter Ten

  Samantha

  I stand in my closet, staring blankly at my clothes as they hang neatly on their fabric covered hangers. Why am I in my closet? I know that I walked in here for a reason, I just can’t seem to remember what it was. In fact, I can’t seem to focus on anything. I feel numb. And cold. Frowning, I fold my arms in front of me and hug myself tightly. Why is it so cold?

  I turn and wander, aimlessly, back into my bedroom and I stop and stare at my bed for a moment. The covers and pillows are all in place, just the way I left it this morning. As I stare at the neatly made bed, I remember lying in Josh’s arms last night after he made love to me and I remember feeling so safe and secure. The same way I felt this morning when I woke up in his arms. I want to feel that way now. Safe. Protected. Where is Josh? Oh, that’s right. He had to leave and go back to the station. To take care of … what was his name again?

  An image of a cruel snarl and evil, dead eyes leering at me flashes through my mind and I flinch. No! Don’t think about that! I shut my eyes tightly and try to push the image away. Breathe, Sam. Just breathe.

  Why am I in my room? I blink and look around, frowning slightly once more. What am I doing here? I’m supposed to be doing something … what was it? Um … I can’t remember. Josh would know. Maybe I should ask him. Oh, wait. Josh is not here. He’s gone back to the station for a while. To, um … do some work. He’ll be back soon. He said he would be back soon to pick me up. I’ll just wait for him here.

  Am I supposed to wait for him here? No, I don’t think so. I’m supposed to go somewhere else, to wait for him. But where is it? Focus, Sam. Where are you supposed to wait for Josh to come and get you? Why can’t I wait for him here, at my place?

  In my mind’s eye I see his snarling face again, and I can feel his rough, calloused hands pawing at me, ripping my dress. His weight pressing me into the wall as he pinned my body against it, his forearm pressing against my throat. I flinch again, more violently this time. No, no, NO! Breathe!

  I am panting slightly now as I try to force the scary images from my mind. I wish Josh were here. Maybe I should call him. Where is my cellphone? I’ll call him and he can tell me where I’m supposed to wait for him. Turning, I head out into the living room but I am startled when I see what a mess it is. There’s broken glass everywhere and the small loveseat has been shoved way out of place. The bookcase has been knocked over and all of its contents are strewn about the floor amid the broken glass and debris. What happened here?

  Oh, that’s right. I remember what happened, but I don’t want to think about it. Don’t think about it, Sam! As I pick up my phone from the table, I hear a familiar voice talking but I don’t see anyone. Following the sound, I venture into the dining room and I can see Lucas standing outside on the balcony.

  Oh, yes! I’m supposed to wait for Josh at Lucas’ place. Now, I remember! That’s why I was standing in my closet. I went in there to pack a bag. I have to leave my apartment so the door can be replaced, and Josh will pick me up at my brother’s. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly as I move closer to the opened balcony doors.

  “Well, for the love of God, please tell me that you checked him out!” Lucas sounds angry and I wonder who he’s talking to. There is a long pause and he runs a hand through his light brown curls in agitation. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” he says, and his voice sounds incredulous, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “When you say ‘one of the most’ … how many others are on that list?” He is silent again as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line, and then he chuckles slightly and rolls his eyes. “Son of a bitch,” he says quietly, and again, I get the feeling he is disbelieving of what he’s hearing. “And what are your personal impressions of him?” Lucas listens intently for a long moment and then smiles, saying nothing. “Well, that’s all well and good, but go deeper. I want everything there is to know…,”

  His voice trails off as he turns and sees me watching him and he frowns. “I have to go. Fax all of that information over to me as soon as you get it.” He hangs up then and comes inside, closing and locking the balcony doors behind him. “You ready to go, Pita?” he asks me quietly.

  I shake my head at him. “No. I … haven’t finished packing yet.” I don’t want to tell him that I stood in my closet forever because I couldn’t remember what I was doing there. He would think I had really flipped. Maybe I have.

  “Well, you should get a move on,” he sighs. “Do you need some help?”

  “No, I can get it,” I answer him. “Who was that you were talking to?”

  He hesitates for just a fraction of a second and then says, “I was talking to Mr. Martin.”

  “Martin?” I ask with a puzzled expression. “My bodyguard? What about?”

  He smirks at me. “Martin is more than just your bodyguard, Sam. He happens to be the head of Colby Coring’s security team.”

  “He is?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “And you had him standing outside my hospital room and following me to work?” Now it’s my turn to sound incredulous. “Did he piss you off or something?”

  Lucas chuckles at me and shakes his head. “Is it so hard to believe that I would want the best looking after you, Sam?”

  I don’t know what to say. I know that Lucas loves me as fiercely as I love him but, for some reason, this knowledge floors me. I move into his arms and he hugs me tightly for a moment. Then he quickly pulls away saying, “Go get packed so we can get out of here. The apartment maintenance guys are waiting to board up your door.”

  I turn and see the work men waiting patiently outside my door and I nod. Slowly, I head back into my bedroom and my mind is a lot less foggy than it was only a short while ago. Going back into my closet, I find my Luis Vuitton luggage and pull out the small overnight bag. Quickly, I begin to fill it with a change of clothes, underwear and socks. Then I go into the bathroom and add some toiletries and personal items. Done.

  Back in my room I am suddenly hit by the notion that he … that man … must have been in my bedroom earlier today. I heard him come in when I was upstairs. And yet, when I came down the steps and walked through the hallway into the living room, I saw no one. But when I noticed him, he was coming out of the hall, from the direction of my bedroom.

  For some reason, that thought opens up the floodgates and I am on my knees in an instant, crying hysterically, my face buried in my hands. He was here! The creep who assaulted me was here, in my apartment. In my bedroom! He hit me again and he tried to rape me! He would have raped me … if Josh hadn’t come when he did!

  “Sam!” Lucas kneels down to the floor and wraps his arms around me. “Oh, Samantha,” he sighs but says nothing more as he gently rocks me back and forth. I know that he’s at a loss as to what to do with me but, I can’t help him now. I can’t even help myself. I continue to cry, shattered by the thought of what almost happened to me today.

  “I want Josh!” Did I say that out loud? I’m not sure if I did or not; all I know is that it’s true. I love Josh. I feel safer when he’s near me. I feel protected and loved in his arms, and I need that right now. I need to feel like everything is all right, like all is right with the world, even if it isn’t. Just for a
little while. And Josh gives me that. That and so much more!

  “Come on, Samantha,” Lucas says softly, and I feel his hands on my shoulders, lifting me and helping me to stand. He gets me to my feet and then bends and grabs my bag. Then he slowly leads me through the apartment and out the busted door, past the maintenance workers waiting to get started.

  *****

  I sit like a zombie on Lucas’ black leather couch with a decadent gray mink fur blanket wrapped around me, just staring into space. His penthouse apartment is in a high-rise building and it sits on the thirty-fifth floor, high above the clouds. At least, that’s the way it seems today. I sit looking mutely out the big picture window, just watching the birds, and the clouds, go by. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here. When we first arrived I walked in and came straight over to the couch and planted myself here. I guess I’ve been sitting here ever since.

  Lucas and Karen have both been trying to get me to eat something but, I’m just not hungry. And I don’t want to lie down either. If Lucas asks me to lie down and take a nap one more time, I think I may scream. Only trouble is, I know that if I start to scream I may never stop again.

  I finally stopped crying somewhere on the ride over here in Lucas’ car. I just can’t believe it. What I’ve been through today, what almost happened to me. What surely would have happened, had it not been for Josh. A shudder runs through me at the horrifying thought. Lucas asked me if I wanted to go by the hospital to get checked out but, I just didn’t have the strength – mentally or physically. I just want to sit here and wait for Josh.

  “Hey, Sam,” Lucas says quietly as he takes a seat next to me on the couch. He gives me that concerned big brother look that I usually find heartwarming, but today it makes me cringe. I know that he means well but, his hovering is driving me crazy right now. “You sure you don’t want to take a nap, kiddo? You look like you might fall over any minute.”

  I close my eyes and sigh heavily to express my exasperation, but I don’t answer him. How many different ways can I say that I don’t feel like lying down? “I’m fine right here, Lucas,” I say sedately, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Okay,” he sighs. “Well, if you don’t want to rest … perhaps you wouldn’t mind talking a little.”

  I frown and glance over at him. “About what?” I’m afraid to wonder what could be on his mind.

  “About this friendship of yours with Detective Pierce,” he says quietly.

  I sigh again and then turn my attention back to the view outside the large picture window. “What do you want to know?” My quiet voice sounds as tired as I feel and I involuntarily pull the fur blanket tighter around me. Why am I still so cold?

  “How long have you been seeing him, Sam?”

  “Not long.”

  “Well, when did it start?” he asks, and I can hear him roll his eyes at me as he rephrases his question.

  Still looking out the window, I take a deep breath. “The day I left the hospital. He came by to check on me that evening. I invited him to stay for dinner.”

  “He came to check on you?” Lucas says a bit sarcastically. “So, he pursued you.”

  I turn and look him in the eye. What is he getting at? “The pursuing was mutual, Lucas. Besides, there really wasn’t much pursuing going on; we were just … drawn to each other, like magnets or something. Why are you asking anyway?”

  “I’m just trying to understand, Sam,” he answers. “Like you said, you haven’t been seeing him long but yet … you seem to have gotten pretty attached to him in that short amount of time.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?” I ask him softly, my voice a little defensive.

  “No, Sam … there’s not,” Lucas says, looking me in the eye. “Not if he’s a good man with honorable intentions. But let’s be honest … how often does a situation like that happen to a woman in your position?”

  “A woman in my position? You sound like Mom.”

  “You know what I’m getting at, Samantha,” Lucas says with a slight roll of his eyes. “You are an extremely wealthy, beautiful young woman. You can’t be too careful, Sam.”

  I take a deep, exhausted breath and sigh heavily once more. “I am not having this conversation with you, Lucas. Not right now; I don’t have the energy.”

  “Sam, I just want…”

  “Please, Lucas!” The words are a tired sob and the tears fall unbidden onto my cheeks. “Not now,” I whisper, turning to look out the window.

  “Okay,” he says quietly after a beat. “I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just don’t want anyone to take advantage of you.”

  I don’t acknowledge his comment as I silently wipe the tears from my face. And Lucas stands then, walking away and leaving me to my tortured thoughts. I know that he is just trying to look after me, and I understand that he has no reason to trust that Josh isn’t after my money. I do get it. But I so don’t need this right now! I hate feeling this way. Like a victim, afraid of my own shadow. And I really hate Lucas thinking of me as some weak little lamb who can’t take care of herself. I don’t want to be here anymore; I want to go home. With Josh.

  That thought brings me the first small glimmer of peace I’ve felt since this whole ordeal began. Home with Josh. Anywhere, as long as it’s with Josh. When will he get here? The waiting is becoming unbearable. He said I could call if I needed him. Should I do that? I don’t want him to think of me as weak either, and that thought makes me feel stupid. Maybe I am weak and fragile. One of those hopelessly docile, mousy women who are afraid of the world they live in. I don’t want to be that or become that. I want to regain the powerful, ‘I-can-do-anything’ feeling I had this morning when I walked into Lola’s gallery. That brave feeling that seems to come with Josh’s encouragement and belief in me. I want to be with Josh.

  Slowly, I get up from my perch on the couch and venture into the spare bedroom where my overnight bag sits expectantly on the bed. I have no intention of lying down in here. I just want a little bit of privacy to make a phone call. With trembling fingers, I pull out my cellphone and dial. He answers on the first ring.

  “Samantha? Baby, are you okay?” His deep, soft voice is full of concern and it makes me homesick for him.

  “I’m fine,” I say softly, almost at a whisper. “I just … wanted to hear your voice, I guess.” There’s a long pause and I can hear muffled voices in the background. “I’m sure you’re busy though. I shouldn’t have called.”

  “No. Baby, it’s fine that you’ve called,” he replies immediately. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes,” I answer meekly. “When will you be finished working?”

  “My Lieutenant wants Conner and me to attend the press conference about your case,” he says, his voice suddenly sounding as tired as I feel, and I am shocked at this news.

  “A press conference about me?”

  “It’s not really about you, Sam; it’s about your case. The brass here just wants everyone to know that a high-profile case has been closed and a suspect caught. It looks good for the department, that’s all.”

  “Oh. How long will that take?”

  “It’s due to begin in about five minutes,” he answers. “It shouldn’t take too long. The Captain will just make a statement and then there might be a few questions from the reporters.”

  “This will be on the news?” I ask with dismay.

  “It might not be broadcast live but, you’ll probably see clips of it on the news, yes.” I hear him sigh and I can imagine him running a hand through his hair anxiously. “Listen, Sam … they’re motioning to me, I’ve got to go. I won’t be long, all right? I will pick you up as soon as this press conference is over, okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper tearfully.

  “Hold on, baby,” he says softly. “I’ll be there soon. I promise.” He hangs up then and I wipe a stray tear from my cheek.

  Chapter Eleven

  Joshua

  I slide behind the wheel of my truck and
take a deep cleansing breath, letting it out slowly. Man, what a fucking day. And after everything that’s gone down, to have Captain Skinner praise the work that Dave and I did today in capturing Timothy Echols … that was an unexpected pat on the back that I never saw coming. At least now I know why Lieutenant Marcos wanted Conner and me to attend that press conference. The recognition is nice, I guess, but it doesn’t matter really. I just want to pick Samantha up and go home and finally put this day behind us.

  I sigh as I head toward downtown, to Lucas Colby’s exclusive apartment building, and I frown as I think back on our conversation from this afternoon.

  “We’ll be at my apartment downtown. Not my house in Bellevue.”

  What the hell was that about? I know that he carefully chose those words, like he wanted me to know that he owns one of those mansions out in Bellevue. Like I didn’t already know that he can probably buy and sell me a thousand times over. But why do that? Why purposely rub my face in the fact that you have more money than me? Like I don’t know that already? What’s his angle? Maybe his angle is to try and figure out what your angle is, Pierce. Trying to figure out if you’re after his sister’s money by dangling it right in front of you.

  The thought pisses me off a little. Rich fuckers always thinking that somebody’s out to get their money. That’s all that matters to them. I try to push the thoughts from my mind as I pull up outside the high-rise and maneuver into a parking spot in front of the entrance doors. When I walk inside the building, I am immediately struck by the grandeur of the place. It looks more like some upscale hotel lobby than the lobby of an apartment building, and for some reason, I feel extremely underdressed in my jeans and dress shirt. The holster and gun don’t help much and I’m suddenly wishing that I hadn’t left my jacket on the seat of my truck.

  There’s a long, sleek black desk just past the front entrance and there are three receptionists working quietly behind it. Knowing that Colby’s apartment is up in the penthouse, I suspect that I can’t just get into the elevator and go on up, so I walk over to one of the receptionists. An attractive African American young woman with a pretty smile looks up at me. “Can I help you, sir,” she asks me.