Defying Gravity: Shattered Cove Series Book 3

by A. M. Kusi

  No! What had this man done to her? She was out of control. Anger swelled. No one could take that from her again.

  Belle wrapped her legs around him and grabbed his elbows closer together. She used every bit of a lifetime of deep-seated anger to ignore the fact that she was now pressed against the hard ridges of his abdomen. She swung her legs over his shoulders and lifted her hips, making his arms bend at an unnatural angle as he released her.

  She rolled away from him quickly. A few other women in the group laughed. Mason skirted past, almost as if he was running from the room, nodding to Bently before he exited. Katy’s mouth was turned up into a knowing smile as she handed her water bottle over. Belle didn’t bother to say anything—she grabbed her keys and hoodie and darted out of the room. She needed air—fast.

  Pushing open the door to the parking lot, she inhaled, filling her lungs with crisp oxygen. Wood smoke with a hint of salt. She jogged to her car, her hands trembling so hard, she dropped the keys.

  As she bent over to retrieve them, a shadow loomed over hers. Oh god, he followed me.

  “You okay?” Katy asked.

  Belle whipped up to standing, choking on her relief. “Uh—yeah. I’m fine.”

  “It looked like you two had a moment,” Katy pressed.

  “Nope. Definitely not. Hate to break your bubble, but he’s not my type.” She forced a strained laugh.

  “You look terrified.” Katy’s brow furrowed as if concerned.

  Belle wiped her forehead with her arm. “I’m just high on adrenaline from the workout.” More like rattled to my core.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  Belle nodded. “Yeah, absolutely.”

  Bently burst through the gym doors, his gaze locked on her.

  “I should go,” Belle said.

  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you at work later in the week.” Katy waved and walked away. Belle jiggled her key into the lock again as Bently stopped only a foot from her.

  “Hey, uh, I wondered if we could talk?” He shoved his hands into his pockets.

  The key found purchase and she inserted it and twisted. “I really need to get home.”

  “I just wanted to know if you’d have dinner with me sometime. Now that I’m no longer your instructor,” he added with a smile.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sheriff.” She used the title like a shield.

  He frowned. “We all gotta eat sometime. I promise, just dinner and a little conversation. I’d like to get to know you better.”

  Like she couldn’t see straight through that invitation. Did he think she was born yesterday? “Men,” she grumbled under her breath as she opened the door and threw her water inside.

  “We men are good for some things.” He winked and smirked.

  What part about this was funny to him? “I don’t need a man,” she grated.

  “I’m not proposing marriage—just dinner.” He shrugged.

  There it was. He’d spelled it out for her. He wanted sex, company for a night, and then he’d be on his merry way with no care in the world for the devastation he’d leave behind. Here was another man, trying to take from her. “That’s exactly why this will never happen. I said no, Sheriff. Isn’t that what these classes are about? To help women deal with men who don’t take no for an answer?”

  He stepped back as if physically struck. As if he’d never heard the word no directed at him before.

  Maybe he hadn’t earned the jab, but her anger for every man that had ever hurt her bubbled to the surface. She would burn this bridge and move on. “You’re a pig.”

  Bently’s jaw tensed. His body turned rigid. The vein in his neck pulsed rapidly under the light of the streetlamps. Anger radiated off him in waves as his eyes narrowed. “Because I’m a man or because I’m a cop?” he asked, his expression grim.

  “Both.” She climbed in and shut the door before quickly starting the engine. He turned around and walked away, each step tugging at her chest.

  “Fuck!” she yelled. Her mind and body were so mixed up. Had she taken it too far? It didn’t matter. She wanted nothing to do with that man or the feelings he stirred up inside her.

  It was better she was left alone.

  Chapter 8

  Belle

  Belle walked towards the nurses’ station.

  “Belle, patient in room one needs stitches, so get the suture kit set up, please,” Doctor Stanley said.

  “Sure thing.” She got to work preparing everything the doctor would need.

  She checked her watch—four in the morning. Three more hours to go. She’d offered to cover third shift for a nurse. Belle yawned. She’d need coffee to make it through.

  “Belle, they need a SANE nurse in room six. I’ll take over here,” an older nurse said, slipping on a pair of gloves.

  “Okay.” She walked back into the hall, her stomach knotting as she prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.

  She peeked in the empty room. After picking up the chart, she reviewed the information. Patient’s name was Charlotte Reed. Brought in via ambulance after she was attacked.

  “Oh good. You’re already here,” Doctor Stanley said as two men pushed the hospital bed inside. Belle stepped out of the way as they maneuvered it in the middle of the room.

  Dried blood streaked down her patient’s face from a gash on her eye and nose. Her lip was swollen and purple, but she was still familiar.

  The woman from the bar.

  Charlotte winced in pain and held her side with a bruised and scraped hand. She’d fought hard by the looks of it.

  Doctor Stanley lifted the X-rays to the lightbox. “Looks like a couple cracked ribs. No internal bleeding. We’ll get a few sutures on the cut by your eye.

  “Okay,” Charlotte said, her voice hoarse.

  Doctor Stanley looked at Belle, giving her a nod.

  Belle walked over and adjusted the IV bags. “Charlotte, is there any chance you could have been sexually assaulted?”

  Charlotte closed her eyes tight. Tears mingled with the dried blood, spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t think so. I passed out at some point. But my clothes were still on me when I woke up. I’m sore everywhere, so it’s hard to tell.”

  “Okay.” Belle put her hand gently on hers to comfort her. “Is there someone you’d like me to call for you that you’d like to keep you company?”

  “My husband is deployed in Afghanistan. There’s no one else.”

  “I’ll be here with you the whole way. My name is Belle. You’re going to get through this, sweetheart. You survived, and now you can start to heal.”

  “Okay. Please call me Charli—everyone does. Can I have some water?” Charli asked.

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.” Belle slipped out of the room and grabbed a cup of ice water with a straw before heading towards her patient’s room. The sight of the tan uniform made her do a double take as a stampede of wild horses stomped all over her heart. “Sheriff?”

  Bently turned towards her, his shoulders tensing and his jaw set. Butterflies of apprehension tumbled in her belly. It had been a week since their last encounter, and her unease had faded. She’d thought life had returned to normal.

  “What—” she said, at the same time Bently said, “I—”

  They both stopped, Bently’s eyes looking anywhere but her it seemed.

  “I’m here to see Charli,” he said.

  Belle shook her head. “Wait. I have to ask her if she even wants you here.” She darted in front of him, expecting to have to fight for her patient’s privacy.

  “That’s fine. Can you just make sure to tell her it’s me that’s come? If she prefers Deputy Vargas, I can call her in. She might be more comfortable with a woman.” He backed down.

  It wasn’t what she’d been expecting at all. “I—uh . . . yes.” />
  His thoughtfulness threw her for a loop. Belle went into the room and handed the water to Charli. “The sheriff is outside. He wants to know if you would like to speak with him. He offered to call the deputy if you would rather have a female officer.”

  “Bent is fine.” Charli nodded.

  Belle went back out. Bently was leaning against the opposite wall, his arms crossed. His black hair was tousled like he’d just crawled out of bed. He looked up at her expectantly.

  “She’ll talk to you.”

  Bently walked past her, going immediately to her patient’s side. “Charli, what happened?” Concern emanated from him as he sat in a chair next to her. His big hand reached out to hold hers.

  Belle got to work checking Charli’s vitals.

  “I had some trouble with a few guys at the bar an hour before closing. Mason kicked them out. He usually stays and walks me to my car after my shift. But his nanny called—his daughter was throwing up, so I told him to go on home.”

  Charli took a breath before she continued. “I locked up and walked to my car. I had this feelin’ like I wasn’t alone. I hurried to my car and unlocked it. As soon as I got the door open, someone grabbed me from behind. It all happened so fast. I’ll never forget that voice.” She shuddered. “He was angry that I embarrassed him in front of his buddies. He . . . threatened to . . .”

  Bently rubbed her tattooed arm soothingly. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

  She looked down. “He said he’d teach me a lesson and pulled at my pants. I bit him, and that’s when he gave me this.” She pointed to the gash on her face. “I fought so hard.” She began to sob.

  Bently wrapped his arms carefully around her as best as he could from her side. “Shhhh, it’s okay. It’s over. You’re safe now.”

  Belle’s chest tightened. Seeing this caring, nurturing side to Bently made her heart prick with guilt over their last exchange. Was she wrong about him?

  “Did he get that far?” Bently asked, his jaw tensing.

  “I don’t think so. I passed out at some point.” She pointed to the ring of bruises around her neck. “When I woke, my clothes were on.”

  Bently nodded. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’m gonna find the man who did this,” he promised, his voice full of conviction. “I’m going to step outside so Belle here can finish examining you. I’m gonna need your clothes as evidence, and tomorrow I’ll come over to your house and get a full statement if that’s okay with you.”

  Charli nodded. “Okay.”

  “How long until Lieutenant Reed gets home from deployment?” Bently asked.

  “Just a few more months now.” Charli’s lips turned up into a watery broken smile.

  “You’re almost there. Listen, if that ever happens again, and you don’t have Mason to walk you to your car, I want you to call me. No matter what time it is.” Bently nodded and left the room.

  Belle walked Charli through every step of the exam. She wanted to make this process as gentle as possible. Unfortunately, she’d had plenty of practice in her few years of nursing—sexual assault on women was so prevalent.

  “Bently is going to catch him,” Charli said, staring at the wounds on her hands. “He always comes through on his promises.”

  Belle nodded. “He seems to really care about you.”

  Charli took a sip of water. “We’ve been friends since high school. He stood up for me when I came to class in rags. A lot of the other girls wanted his attention, but he zeroed in on me. Because of him, high school was tolerable. He was like the big brother I always wanted and never had. Then he introduced me to my husband, Finn.”

  “Sounds like a good guy,” Belle said, and for the first time, she meant it. Apparently, she hadn’t worked through her anger as much as she thought. Maybe she’d let her experiences with men taint her opinion.

  Guilt blanketed her shoulders. She was woman enough to admit when she was wrong. She’d judged him before she got to know him. Why did she react so viscerally to him of all people?

  Because I’m scared I could fall for him and he’d leave me rejected and alone.

  She’d already ruined any chance they could be friends. The distance between them was evidence of that. The usual smoldering energy felt more like the churning sea in a storm now. Everything seemed off and unsettled.

  Maybe it was for the best. They could both go on with their lives and stay out of each other’s way.

  If only she could believe that.

  Chapter 9

  Bently

  Scrolling through the news article, Bently sighed and shook his head. Another police shooting of an unarmed Black man. Video had surfaced, and it was obvious that there was no excuse for the officer to use deadly force. The man was on the ground, complying with the officer’s demands, and he was still shot in the back.

  Bently raked a hand over his face. This was a problem—there was no doubt about it. But things like that didn’t happen in his small town. These were good people, his fellow officers were servants of the law and for the people.

  “Knock, knock,” Vargas said as she opened the door.

  “Kind of defeats the point if you don’t actually knock and let yourself in anyways.” He set his phone facedown on the table.

  Vargas chuckled and sat across from him in the empty chair, sliding a folder onto his desk. “It’s not like you’re up to anything in here. You forget I’ve already seen you naked,” she teased.

  He chuckled. “I’ve changed a lot since we were fifteen and skinny-dipping.”

  She popped her gum. “Seeing you, Dre, and Mikel streaking your bare asses down the beach was one of the funniest things I ever laid eyes on.”

  “Good thing we didn’t have camera phones back in those days.”

  Vargas tapped her forehead. “It’s forever burned in my memory.”

  Bently chuckled. “Enough about my sexy body. What did you bring me?” He flipped open the file. Joe Canoby’s mug shot was paper-clipped to the top, along with several photos of his lifeless body and crime scene photos. The scene was still so fresh in his mind, he could smell the tang of blood in the air.

  Rushing through Remy’s back door with Mikel hot on his heels, hoping with every fiber he wasn’t too late to save his niece and her mama. Charging in, gun drawn, searching the rooms for any sign of life. Joe Canoby staggering back from Remy’s seemingly lifeless, bloody body. The glint of a knife as the man surged forward as if to strike Remy again.

  A millisecond of time elapsed between identifying the threat and pulling the trigger. One shot.

  Bang!

  Bently jumped in his seat.

  Vargas eyed him warily. “You okay?”

  “What did you find?” he asked, avoiding the question.

  “We know Canoby was a low-level dealer and loan shark. What we don’t know is who he was working for. We’ve spoken to June Simpson, as you know. She mentioned a name that she’d heard once—Carelli.”

  “Carelli, as in the mob boss?” Bently clarified.

  Vargas nodded and popped her gum again. “The trail stops there.”

  “The FBI are going to want in on this. This crosses state lines if he’s involved.”

  She raised her hands as she sighed. “My other leads here have all but dried up.”

  Bently nodded. “Thanks for giving me the update. Go ahead and call our friends at the Bureau.”

  “Yes, sir.” Vargas got up and collected the file before leaving his office.

  He glanced at the clock. Quitting time. Bently organized his desk before heading out. Betsy was already gone for the day. Officer Rife Owens was at his desk.

  “How you doing, Owens?”

  The officer sat up a little straighter. “Just fine, Sheriff.”

  “You settling in here nicely? It’s been what, three months since you finished the academy?
”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re doing a good job so far.”

  Owens smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I’m heading out for the day. I’ll have my phone on me if you need anything at all. Parsons will be in shortly.” Bently pulled his keys out of his pocket.

  “Have a good evening, sir.”

  “You too.”

  ***

  Bently pulled his truck into the gravel parking lot in front of The Lighthouse Inn. Warm pride filled his chest as he took in the large house. Fresh white paint decorated the old building making it seem much younger than it was. His sister had finally made her dream come true.

  He walked to the front door, not bothering to knock as he entered the foyer. A rich, savory smell wafted from deeper within the house. He continued along the dark gray-stained wood floors, past the cameras that he’d installed himself so that Jasmine would be alerted on her phone of movement. Couldn’t be too careful when it came to two of the most important women in his life.

  “Bent, I’m in the kitchen!” Jasmine called out.

  He passed through the lobby area into the large kitchen. Mikel and Andre had redone it for her too.

  “This doesn’t even look like the same house old Mrs. Jenson lived in,” he mused.

  Jasmine tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear and handed the baby in her arms over to him as she answered, “No, it doesn’t. Still a lot of work to do though. Just need the money to do it.”

  “You’ll get there.” He tilted his head to smell his sleeping niece’s forehead before he kissed her. “Zoey is getting so big.”

  “She certainly is. I can’t believe it’s been seven months since she was born.” Jasmine stretched her back.

  “What are you making me for dinner?” he asked.