I know immediately that something is wrong. Jericho never opens the windows unless he can see them, and not at all since I have been here. He says he has some special glass in there, something a bullet can’t get through, and the one time I tried to open it, he bit my head off and threatened to nail it shut.
My fear spikes immediately, and I turn swiftly, intending to rush for the door and down to the safety of the bar where Smiley and Oak sit armed and ready and King and his men hide will protect me.
I don’t make it. I turn right into a chest, a broad muscular chest that I know immediately is not Jericho’s and look up into a masked face that sends spikes of terror through me.
“Hello. Been looking for you.”
I start struggling immediately, even though I know I do not have the strength to fight him off, and get a slap across the cheek. The force of the blow sends me reeling and I fall back with a thud and a grunt, rolling away before he can grab at me.
I have two options and only one of them will work as I see him get between me and the door.
I scream. Long, loud, and so shrilly my throat feels like I swallowed a grater. I keep screaming, even as he comes at me, raising his arm to reveal a knife.
Sweet Lord, I’m going to die.
He gets so close before I can get my legs to work and stumble back. I feel the brush of air, as his arm arcs down, just before something screams past my ear and pushes him back.
He grunts and catches himself just before falling and starts advancing on me again, this time shoving me hard enough that I hit the wall and see spots.
When I finally blink my eyes and get my vision clear, Jericho is crashing through the door and diving at me, as King comes in behind, his gun drawn
“Peaches!”
“Window.”
Owie, my throat hurts.
It’s useless though. I know it is because the room is empty, and the only evidence that someone was ever here is the smudge of blood on the window frame.
“King.”
“Already on it!” he yells, and I feel a scream bubble up when he just throws himself out of the window.
“Oh my God.”
“Hush. He knows what he’s doing,” Jericho soothes, pulling me up and onto the sofa.
You know those little rag dolls mamas used to make for their daughters? Yeah, I feel like one as I flop down onto the sofa and all the fight and energy just leaves me with a poof, like one of those magic smoke tricks where the magician vanishes.
“Dammit, Cleo! I told you not to open the fucking windows!” he roars, shaking me a little as my head lolls and I blink my eyes owlishly.
“I-I didn’t. I fell asleep and I woke up. I didn’t know what woke me, but I think it must have been him climbing in here because he was already in when I came out here.”
Now is the time for some calm breathing and a try at going robot, but I feel so out of it here I can’t do a thing but stare up at his angry face as my body starts shaking like crazy.
Someone really is trying to kill me. This was no random act; no drive by shooting that could have been a drunken idiot just letting loose as I’ve been telling myself that it was.
That man was here for me. To kill me. And right now, I just don’t know how to feel about that, other than to understand that I am in deep trouble.
I feel him stiffen and pull back and watch as he walks over to the window with long strides, back stiff and vibrating with the anger I see on his face.
“Peaches, you likely don’t want to talk to me about this, and I get that, but I need you to tell me everything. This guy was bleeding and from what I see here on this window, he’s got at the very least a nicked artery. How did—?”
“He was going to stab me. I mean, I came out, and he was just here, and I was so scared!”
“Shh, don’t get hysterical on me just yet, Cleo baby,” he coos, rushing over to stroke my face. “Calmly. You came out and he was here. Where exactly?”
I wave at the space just by the guest bedroom door, between the wall and the exit.
“There. I came out and turned, and he was there. He was so big, Jericho. I didn’t even see him; he moved so quiet-like until I walked right into him. He was wearing all black and this mask, like those ones that cover everything but his nose and mouth.”
“Okay.”
“And…and then he said, ‘Hello, been looking for you’ and slapped me. Hard. I hit the floor and wall, and he came at me with a knife but, but…I don’t know! He just sort of jerked back before he could stab me, and by then you were probably coming, and he must have dove out of the window like King did.”
Jericho’s eyes narrow to slits, and I feel him go harder before he gently takes my shoulders and sits me up, going onto his knees in front of me.
“I need you to think very hard now, Cleo. This is important. Did you hear anything, anything at all before he pulled back?”
Well, I mean it’s all jumbled up what with the shock. I feel like I remember everything in minute detail, but the truth is that bits and pieces are sketchy now that I’m not terrified for my life.
Think Cleo!
Closing my eyes, I focus hard on it all, no matter that just thinking makes my heart stutter and my chest go tight with renewed angst. I backtrack like rewinding a tape and start at the beginning when I looked up and walked right into him at the same time.
No, that’s not quite right. He walked into me and grabbed me. He must have been waiting on me to come out. Yes! Yes, think clearly now and be specific. Okay.
He walked into me and grabbed me. Then he spoke. His voice was deep and gravelly—menacing, but filled with a singsong-like quality because he was crowing that he had me.
Okay.
Slap.
Was it a slap? Yes. A punch would have taken my jaw off what with the way he looked like he could lift a truck. Okay good. More, Cleo.
Falling. Scrambling up. Did I scream first, or did he hit me first? Oooh, this is where I start getting sketchy, but I think it was the hit first. Okay, go on.
Deep breath, and then I’m looking at it all just like I’m seeing it on replay. My scrambling to rise, the knife, the arc of his arm, the glint of the blade, so cold and final…
A whine! A brush of air just beside my right cheek!
“I heard this whine and felt this whoosh go past my face here,” I say excitedly, opening my eyes with a smile as I show him. “And then he jerked. I remember thunder and not really paying it much mind, but that was likely me hearing you and King come up the stairs? I was a little dazed I think, and my eyes were a little blurry, so I didn’t see him go, and then you were here.”
I must have said something wrong because he curses and throws himself away, coming to his feet to pace just before he stalks to the window and glares out into the open spaces outside.
“Hell. He got away,” King huffs, coming through the door and falling to the sofa.
He looks done in, but I can tell the man is funning me and slap his arm with a sniff.
“The blood?”
“No trail, so I think he had a driver waiting on him and got to his ride fast. There were some tracks near the trees, but with the dry spell we’ve had lately, I didn’t bother to even try at guessing with the way they hardly made an impression.”
True, not that I would have even thought of looking for something like that. We’ve had an unseasonably dry summer this year and hardly a sprinkle of the rain that we need so desperately, not that that is important now.
Concentrate, Cleo, getting lost in your head is not going to help you any at the moment, and it might just piss Jericho off.
“Guys? I think I believe someone is trying to kill me now,” I say in a small voice, ignoring Jericho’s grunt.
“Hallelujah! The eagle has fucking landed!” King yells, rolling his eyes before jumping and eyeballing the window. “Is that a bullet groove in the wood above you?”
“See for yourself.”
King stalks over and peers at the frame an
d hisses out a breath before looking at Jericho. They share some secret communication, and I hear them curse, and then they’re both looking at me with scowls.
“You stay down in the bar at all times unless I’m up here with you, you got me, Peaches? This was too close for comfort.”
You’re telling me, bub. My head is still ringing from that slap, and if not for the fact that he’d probably start snarling again, I’d mention that my cheek feels like Thor had a go at me.
“Got it. Loud and clear, Jericho Evans. Loud and Clear. Incidentally, have I said how thankful I am that y’all got up here that quick?”
I am more than thankful. I want to fling myself into his arms and cling to him while apologizing and kissing his handsome face for the next week.
He doesn’t even crack a smile, just glowers at me.
“You’re staying.”
“You couldn’t pry me loose with grease and a crowbar.”
Chapter Ten
Jericho
“This is getting too hot for a little town librarian whose only crime thus far seems to be liking you, asshole,” Storm mutters, as we lounge back in deck chairs next to his new pool and watch Lenny and Cleo splashing around in the water, chatting up a storm.
Since the incident, as Cleo keeps calling it—like it was just some random occurrence or some shit—I haven’t so much as let her out of my sight. I’m next to her, hands on some part of her so much that Josh and King have started ribbing me, and she keeps throwing me looks.
Like I care. All I know is that no one can get to her through me, and definitely no bullet can reach her. This shit is giving me the heebs for real. Not that I think that bullet was for her.
No, that smacks of our friendly and oh-so-helpful neighborhood ghost who has come out to play guardian angel to our women once again. I’m grateful to the guy, don’t mistake me, because after seeing where Cleo was and hearing that scream, I know she would have been dead before King or I reached her.
No, that bullet likely saved her life, and I am thankful even if this game is starting to get on my damn nerves.
“She’s settling at least,” I grunt, trying not to focus on the way her black bikini covers hardly any of her fine ass or the way her big boobs jiggle around with every move she makes.
Still hard here and trying not to embarrass myself in my swimming trunks that don’t have a hope in hell of corralling my hard on. Storm laughs at the growl I can’t stop from rumbling forth and looks at his own woman, sighing in contentment as he gives me another beer and grabs one for himself and a snoozing King.
“Wake up, fuck face, we’re talking here.”
“I hear you two love-sick fools. All that sighing and oohing is making my stomach turn. Wake me when you want to talk instead of titter and share love stories.”
“Asshole.”
“Sap.”
“Shut up both of you. I’m trying to keep my girl alive and breathing for the fucking wedding Lenny and Jill are planning, and y’all want to trade insults?”
“Aw, is Jericho still smarting about Cleo’s rejection? Grow a dick and some balls, loser, even if they’re only small little ones. That girl is so into you it makes me sick watching her pine for your ugly ass when she’s got all this perfection staring her in the face.”
I snarl at his teasing, and Storm chokes, shaking his head ruefully.
“Rejection?”
“Not rejection. She just wanted to go home and back to work is all.”
“Rejection, dude. Don’t put rose-colored glasses on this thing now that you feel better, when she was all clinging to you four days ago. She told your ass she ain’t marrying you.”
“Whoa!” Storm laughs, slapping King to silence before chuckling and turning to me. “Tell me.”
I hate these talks. I’m not one of those guys who needs male comfort and advice about my love life, and I do not talk out of the bedroom because that’s crass and nasty and no woman deserves to have her man being a locker-room pussy like most guys are.
But I can’t avoid it as Storm pins me with a look and gets settled to hear my woes.
“She just told me she’s not marrying me.”
“You talked marriage?”
I blush the tiniest bit because, no, we did not talk marriage. After thinking about it, I realize I never once gave her a chance to say a thing. I just laid it all out nice and neat and expected her to go along with it just like everyone else does to her.
Stupid. So stupid and arrogant and just plain wrong, I now see.
“She said no one asked her and the answer is no,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on her, even as my two knuckleheads start chortling.
“Tried that with Lenny too, and she told me to go suck a pig’s nuts if I recall.”
I laugh, recalling the other rather colorful ways she has of refusing to conform and feel my chest go lighter. It’s not all lost then if Lenny reacted the same way to Storm. Just look at them now. She’s wearing his ring, his hickeys, and her belly is full of his seed.
That must mean I stand a chance, right? Not that it matters because, dammit, she’s mine no matter what, and I won’t let her go. I’ll spend the next fifty years making her love me even if it kills me.
Hard to do when you shut her down every time she starts talking to you isn’t it, Evans?
I can’t help that though. I’d rather not talk than hear something that will hurt me, and yeah, I get that it may be cowardly of me, but I don’t care.
Cleo giggles and starts laughing at something Lenny says, and I feel my dick take up the call.
“Jesus, here, cover that shit up,” King snarls, throwing a towel at me.
My chuckle is choked as I bunch the cloth at my groin and try not to see how her skin is all wet and shiny and going a nice golden hue.
“Okay, so that ain’t all that bad. I see how she looks at you, man. Maybe she just needs time.”
“Ask oh great one over there why he isn’t laying the pipe and seducing her fine ass if you’re hankering to be helpful, Storm.”
Storm chokes and swivels my way, giving me a WTF look that I ignore, or try to. I can feel myself blushing and trying not to think about all the reasons I do not need to be having this talk. I’m being a gentleman for fuck’s sake!
Do any of you think it’s easy to sleep beside all that sweet-smelling, hot, silky flesh and not fuck her every and any way I can? I walk around hard so much of my day that I don’t know how my brain still works what with lack of blood flow. I want her with a desperation I haven’t ever felt before, and I would give a nut just to get any part of me near her heat.
“Please tell me you aren’t playing the chivalrous ass while that woman keeps giving you come-get-it looks, you fool. Jesus, I caught her staring at your crotch twice just in this last hour.”
“She’s been through a lot and she needs time.”
“For what? To hear Lenny tell it, she was a virgin before you! You think she enjoys having her body awakened and then ignored afterward? Think with your head here, man. If I were a woman—”
“You finally admit it?” King laughs.
“Shut your mouth, fool. If I were to put myself in her shoes for a minute…Jericho, man, think about it. You took her maidenhead and rocked her world to hear Lenny tell it. She must be so confused right now. What if she thinks you don’t want her? Maybe she keeps taking your rejections as you not wanting her like that because she wasn’t any good?”
“Bullshit! I fucking hump her in my sleep before I can get a handle on things and go to the freaking bathroom—”
“TMI.”
“King, if you do not shut your ass up, I will personally help you with that. And as to what she feels, how the fuck should I know? The woman is an enigma to me. She blows hot and then arctic cold the next minute, giving me glares that strip my skin off.”
“Put yourself in her shoes. You won’t touch her, but you won’t let her go. That screams ‘I’m just keeping you around because I want to protect the little defensele
ss girl.’ That sucks man. I bet she’d rather brave another knife than feel like she’s a responsibility to you. And as I said, a blind man can see the way she looks at you. She wants you.”
His words sink in, and I look back at Cleo and catch her staring just before she blushes and pulls her eyes away, pretending once again that I don’t exist.
Could they be right?
What are you even asking for, you ass? Like you need an excuse to chicken out again. Just give in already and fuck her. The worst that can happen is she leaves you when this is over. At least you’ll have memories to keep your dumb ass warm at night.
Yeah, but those memories could also make it hurt worse when she leaves, fool. Sappy motherfucker, that’s what I’ve become. What happened to the man who saw what he wanted and took it because he could?
I have never once, since I joined the Army and got in with the guys, felt like I couldn’t conquer something. An enemy combatant with his finger on a detonator? Cake for a man who never really cared one way or the other about anything.
I did my job, sometimes reveling in the thrill and danger because I felt alive every time I came up against odds that were stacked against me only to be the victor.
I’m a confident S.O.B. with the form to warrant my arrogance and a chip on my shoulder that I have earned. Women have never been a problem.
Until I looked up from the bar and laid eyes on a sheep in a fox’s clothing and fell into lust and love all at the same time.
“Christ.”
“Now he gets it. Fucking finally. You know you and that little lady have been trying my goddamn patience for days now, and I was just about to put the moves on her to shake you up and get you moving again.”
“Try it and you lose whatever limb you put on her, tucker,” I warn, my smile twitching now that I’ve made up my mind to drop this pansy-ass bullshit and just be me.
I could care less what she wants at this moment if that want is not pointed at me, because now that I have her in my sights and my determination is steely again, she’s all mine.
She doesn’t like me owning a dive bar? She’ll get over that, and even learn to like it. She thinks I’m not the right kind of man for her and her snob of a father? I’ll do her so good and long that all she’ll see is my dick. And as for her daddy, well, by the time I’m done, she won’t remember the man’s name.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 23
