“He will be a good husband and provider. Plus he has five siblings so fertility shouldn’t be an issue.”
Jesus fucking christ…
“But.” Mom leaned in close to me and spoke in a hushed whisper. “You must never breathe a word of cohabiting with another man. Bea knows you were engaged but to protect your virtue, I never told her of your living in sin. Keep it that way or he won’t find you suitable to marry. No one will.”
Speechless, I rested my forehead in my palm and wondered if I was really living in the year 2017. Mom sat up and beamed at Timothy and Bea’s return while I sat mostly silent through lunch, trying not to let her words bother me.
I sat for as long as I could before it became too uncomfortable to bear. With a curt “bye, nice to meet you,” I left the cafe and walked home, trying not to cry. After being cheated on and losing everything, the only thing more demoralizing was hearing my own mother tell me no one would want to marry me.
Squinting in the sunlight, it looked like someone was sitting on the front porch of Ash and Dahlia’s house. A man in crisp, hipster-style clothes with sandy blond hair.
As I approached closer enough to recognize him, my stomach did a flip-flop of roiling, mixed emotions.
“Johnny?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
HAZEL
"Johnny?"
"Hey. Where've you been?" he asked as casually as if I had come home late from work.
"Out to lunch with my mom," I replied flatly.
He made a disapproving face. "I'm sorry to hear that."
I bristled in annoyance. Sure, I walked out of lunch because I had an awful time. Sure, Dahlia and I were just ragging on her this morning. But Dahlia was family.
Johnny chose not to become part of my family the moment he stuck his dick in his coworker. He had no right to talk shit about my mom nor show up on my doorstep unannounced.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
His expression changed to one of sorrow and remorse. Whether it was genuine or not, I couldn't be sure.
"I was hoping we could talk," he said softly. "I want to see if we can fix things."
"We?" I repeated incredulously. "The only one who needs to fix things is you, Johnny!"
After dealing with my mom, I was not in the mood for dodging between truth and bullshit right then.
He merely nodded, rather than deflecting blame like I expected him to.
"You're absolutely right. I deserve every bit of pain that I inflicted onto you. I'm so sorry, Hazel." His voice cracked. "More sorry than I can even express."
I softened just the tiniest bit. After dating him for three years, it was unheard of to hear him admit any wrongdoing. A sincere apology was completely out of character.
"Why did you do it?" I demanded, my own voice quivering with emotion. "If I wasn't good enough for you, if you weren't happy, why didn't you just break up with me?"
"It had nothing to do with you, Hazel." He stood up from the porch and approached me carefully like he would a wild animal. "And everything to do with me. I was stupid. I was selfish. I was a complete fucking idiot." He reached out to me cautiously, cradling my elbows in his fingertips. "But I'm an idiot that's still in love with you and doesn't want to lose you."
As Johnny poured out his tender, self-sacrificing confession, my mind flashed with images of Liam. It was like a highlight reel replaying every heart-stopping moment from last night.
When I first heard his voice. When he kissed me in his house. When he led me to the bedroom and felt how wet I was for him and only him. When he filled me so deeply I thought I would tear apart. And when he wrapped me in his arms and said goodnight before falling asleep.
Should I tell Johnny? I wondered. Our break up was still so fresh and seeing him show up out of nowhere had me reeling with all kinds of emotions.
Of course, I still had feelings for Johnny. I was ready to marry him until two days ago. But he hurt me where it hurt the most. I didn't know if I could ever forgive or trust him again.
And yet I still felt that hollow, greedy ache deep in my pussy for Liam. I never craved and yearned for sex with Johnny in that way. Standing there in front of him, thinking of another man's cock inside me while he poured out his apology filled me with more guilt and shame. Almost like I had cheated on him.
But it wasn't the same situation, not in the slightest. We were already broken up, obviously.
Still, I couldn't help feeling empowered. Like I got my revenge in some way. I got someone else to fuck me, too. Someone bigger, sexier and much better at pleasing me.
"So what do you say, honey?" Johnny pleaded, jarring me out of my Liam-infused daydream. "Can we give it another shot?"
"Look, Johnny. I dunno," I replied, rubbing my temple. "I need time to think and--"
"Hey! Why don't we take a nice walk downtown?" he suddenly suggested, cutting me off. "You never did show me your hometown like you promised."
I sighed. "Now's not a really good ti--"
"Aw come on, Haze!" he pleaded, squeezing my hands in his. "I made the trip all the way out here just for you."
Yeah, in your cushy, self-driving Tesla that I helped you pay for.
"Fine," I said, knowing it would be easier to do what he wanted than argue. "Let's walk."
I led him down Main Street, shrugging him off whenever he attempted to hold my hand. I wasn't completely opposed to the idea of getting back with him, but all the same, I didn't want to make a rash decision.
My mom's words echoed in my head as I pointed out all the local shops and businesses to Johnny. He won't be willing to marry you. No one will.
Was she right? If I truly, sincerely wanted marriage deep in my heart of hearts, would I have to settle for Johnny? Was it worth it to be married when I wondered every day if he was going to cheat on me again?
"Let's go in here!"
Johnny pulled me into some place called All About That Bass. It was a dimly lit bar with thumping bass music and UV lights making everything give off a strange glow. At first glance, I knew this place was too trendy and wacky to survive in Cloverville.
But it appealed to Johnny's taste perfectly.
"Let's get some drinks!" he said excitedly.
"No, thanks!" I yelled over the loud bass music but Johnny already ordered something from a passing waiter. He brought us out two martini glasses and swiftly floated away again.
I took one tentative sip before pushing the drink away with disgust. It tasted like pure vodka and burned its way painfully down to my stomach.
Johnny flagged another waiter down and yelled something in his ear. The waiter nodded and produced a small bottle from his jacket pocket. He upturned the bottle and emptied the liquid within into my drink. With a curt nod at me, he disappeared again.
"It should taste better!" Johnny yelled across the table at me, gesturing for me to drink up.
I took another tentative sip. It did taste sweeter and less like rubbing alcohol.
Every few minutes, Johnny kept yelling at me to drink as he downed glass after glass of whatever he had. I took tiny sips to appease him but he kept telling me to drink more.
I couldn't begin to guess how long we sat in there. I asked for water several times but it never came. Johnny ranted about various topics, though I couldn't hear him half the time over the music.
I didn't feel well. My instincts told me I was shitfaced drunk but no way had I had enough to drink to justify that. Was it the atmosphere of the place? The sweetener they gave to supposedly dilute my drinks? All I knew was I felt funny and couldn't place why.
At some point, Johnny was rambling about work just as the club was silent between songs.
"...And then Shelly doesn't get back until next Wednesday, so I gotta--"
"Wait, what?" I demanded just as the music picked up again. "You're still working with her?"
He looked at me like I was the biggest fucking idiot to walk the earth. "Well yes, dear. We're partners on the same project together, remember
?"
My jaw dropped as my fists shook with rage in my lap.
"You didn't think I would take issue with you remaining partners with the bitch you fucked behind my back?" My voice was well over the music now, unleashed and angry.
"There's nothing I can do about it, Hazel," Johnny replied with condescending calm.
That was it.
Any sliver of hope I had for our relationship was shattered. All belief in his crocodile tearful apology went up in smoke.
I couldn't even find any words to say. I got up to leave.
The moment I stood, my legs crumpled underneath me.
Fear stole the breath from my chest as I clung to the walls, desperate to stand. What kind of place was this? What did he do to me?
Rough hands grabbed under my armpits and yanked me up, dragging me across the floor.
"No, no no!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I looked up to see Johnny, calm and sober as ever, half-dragging, half-carrying me somewhere.
And then suddenly, streetlights and cool air. We were out of that insane, awful place but Johnny still held a rough grip on my arm and was dragging me to somewhere unknown.
"Let me go!" I cried, dragging my feet and screaming as loud as I could. "Help! Somebody help me!"
My vision swam. I couldn't see clearly. What must have been the streetlights were bright, yellow blobs floating in the air. Blue and red blobs blinked before my vision too, just before I lost the strength to keep fighting.
"Thank fuck you're here," I heard Johnny's voice say. "She's crazy. I was bringing her right to you."
"What's going on?" asked a gruff, deep voice that reverberated somewhere in my memory.
"I dunno, man. She just had way too much to drink and started going apeshit."
A pair of hands firmly took hold of my arms and stood me to my feet. They weren't nearly as rough as Johnny's but my survival instincts took over.
"No!"
I struggled with my last ounce of strength to get away, but the powerful arms attached to those hands pulled me in and subdued me.
"Shhh," a voice in my ear soothed me. "You're okay. You're safe. Trust me."
That voice. Why did it sound so familiar? And why did a rush of liquid flood my panties right then?
I tried to focus my eyes right before I passed out. And I saw a familiar darkness in the pair of blue irises that stared back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LIAM
“All 10-8s, what’s your 20?”
“This is Unit 515 on Main and 7th. There ain’t shit going on.”
“10-4, 515.”
I tuned out my crackling radio as the other officers on duty called in their locations. Another quiet night in Cloverville. We might get the occasional noise complaint or petty theft but this job was child’s play compared to what I dealt with in San Francisco. Back there, a routine traffic stop could turn into a shootout in seconds flat.
In this town? The last guy I gave a ticket to had tears in his eyes and begged me not to tell his wife.
Still, I remained hyper-vigilant. Disaster always struck when least expected. And even the most innocent-looking citizens could be up to no good.
While stopped at a traffic light, I quickly glanced down at my personal cell phone to open a message from Solomon.
“Another beautiful day in the neighborhood :),” the text read before I promptly deleted it and returned my eyes to the road.
I’d be fired in a hot minute if the department knew I was in contact with him. And if word got out that I knew things the department had no clue of and chose not to report it? Cloverville would see its biggest, juiciest scandal since Asher Forsyth’s assault trial.
Now that was a doozy. Asher was innocent, even a hero. He punched a tourist at Harry’s Saloon for rough-handling a woman. That woman showed her appreciation by pressing charges on Ash for assaulting her boyfriend.
He absolutely did the right thing but that didn’t stop rumors from flying and prolonging his trial.
That’s when you know a town is safe, when people have nothing better to do than gossip about each other.
And that’s what mattered most. Safety. And no innocent lives being taken.
I’d be in the back pocket of the most powerful gangsters in the world if it guaranteed civilians were protected. Because the truth is some crime just can’t be erased. The world will always contain crimes and the people who commit them. So you might as well learn to live with them as peacefully as you can.
If only I knew that before Katie died. If only the Cloverville police department didn’t wear rose-tinted glasses when looking at their picture-perfect little farming town. They had no idea who really ran this place. It was no coincidence that the already-low crime rate dropped down to nearly nothing when I joined the force.
For the greater good, sometimes you had to spend a little time in bed with the enemy.
Dusk fell over the downtown strip as the mom and pop shops closed and the nightlife businesses slowly woke up and shined their own light. Tinkling jazz music floated through my squad car window from the coffee shop. On the other side of the street, excited chatter and cheers emerged from the sports bar, their massive TV screens displaying the football game on every wall.
Nothing looked out of place but I decided to circle the block again one more time. Just seeing my police cruiser should’ve been enough to keep the rowdy drinkers in line. Sometimes a salty drunk guy thirsted for a fight if his team was losing. Better to nip that in the bud than wait until people got punched.
At the next intersection, I slowed to a stop and waited for pedestrians to cross before making a right turn. A few kids crossing with their parents waved to me and I waved back. They must have recognized me from my occasional talks and visits to the local elementary schools.
A couple of mothers did a double take when they saw me. I tipped the brim of my hat and they nearly swooned in the middle of the street.
Dream of me when you go to bed with your husband tonight, I thought while chuckling to myself.
I turned the corner after all the pedestrians crossed and nearly missed the flash of movement in the alleyway between two buildings.
With a stomp on my breaks, I jerked my head to the right and peered down the dim corridor. Definitely two figures in there looking to be in some kind of struggle.
“No, no no!” a high-pitched cry rang out and I sprang into action.
“Dispatch, this is 515 responding to a possible disturbance on Main and 12th in the alley behind Sporty’s. Two suspects, one female confirmed. Standby.”
With lightning speed, I switched on my dashcam, turned on my lights without sirens, and exited my car.
Walking quickly into the narrow alley, my body already pumping with adrenaline, I raised my flashlight and shined it on the two figures.
A blond man with a medium build and a flannel shirt raised his hand to shield his eyes. His other hand dropped from the arm of the crying, dark-haired woman he was with, who promptly sagged to the ground as if she was unable to stand.
I didn’t pay attention to her at first. She was alive, that was good. I had to find out what this guy was doing with her.
His whole body tensed on the balls of his feet for a split second and he looked over his shoulder down the other end of the alley.
Go ahead and try to run, fucker, I thought. I’ll be on you like a lion taking down a gazelle.
As I got closer, he took in my height and build amplified by my steel-toed boots, bullet-proof vest, and full duty uniform. He made the wise decision to comply.
“Thank fuck you’re here,” he said, trying to appear relieved. “She’s crazy. I was trying to bring her right to you.”
“What’s going on here?” I asked.
"I dunno, man. She just had way too much to drink and started going apeshit."
I didn’t believe him for a minute. The crying woman on the ground covered herself with her hands and shook like a leaf. She looked like a victim, not an
aggressor. This guy was trying to smooth talk his way out of an arrest and had all my alarm bells ringing.
“Can you stand up for me, ma’am?” I asked.
She didn’t seem to hear me but rather tried scooting and crawling away from us. I knelt in front of her, trying to get a look at her face as I set my flashlight on the ground. As she tried retreating further away, I took a gentle hold on her shoulders to help her to her feet.
“No!” She struggled, trying to wrench out of my grasp but her feet failed her. When I finally did see her face, the recognition hit me like a splash of cold water.
Not even twenty-four hours ago, I was kissing those lips. Those emerald green eyes were curious and playful, not wide-eyed and scared. That mouth moaned for me to spank her luscious ass and shoot my heavy load all over her creamy skin.
My arms went around her as if acting on their own with no input from me and pulled her into a bear hug.
“Shhh,” I said into her ear. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Trust me.”
I had no idea how she would react or if she even knew who I was. Already I was miles away from normal police procedure. I couldn’t let on to my body camera or this guy that I knew her.
But thankfully, she stopped fighting and leaned heavily on me. One battle won.
“Come with me to the car, sir,” I said to the guy who looked ready to run again.
“Are you gonna arrest her? Or… me?” he asked anxiously.
“Not unless you give me a reason to. We’re just gonna talk.”
The woman--Hazel. Her name is Hazel--slumped unconsciously against my chest so I picked her up carefully, hoisting her up over my shoulder while I kept an eye on the skittish, suspicious guy.
“What’s your name?” I asked him once we reached the car and I put Hazel gingerly in the back seat.
“John. Johnny.”
“And what were you all up to tonight, Johnny?”
“Just having some drinks. Then out of nowhere, she just…” He flung his hands out and gestured wildly.
“So tell me this. Why are you sober while she’s drunk out of her mind and scared as hell?”
Love and War: A Bad Boy Romance (Small Town Bad Boys Book 2) Page 4
