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Officer in Pursuit

Page 10

by Ranae Rose


  “Yeah, he did,” was all Kerry said. “Nice of him, huh?”

  Sasha murmured something indistinct into her wineglass, then tipped it back. Unusually considerate, for her.

  “What do you think,” Grey asked a few minutes later, when they were alone again, “are you ready to get out of here, or is it too early?”

  Kerry glanced toward the kitchen window and at the crowd beyond. “Alicia and Liam are probably anxious for us all to get out of their hair. I’m ready to say goodbye.”

  They made their rounds together, then climbed into his car. Grey caught Kerry looking at the moon again, and a weird feeling swirled in the pit of his stomach.

  She looked like she was waiting for all of it – the moon, the stars and the very sky itself, in all its vast darkness – to come crashing down on her.

  It made him want to reach out and pull her close to him, show her that there were worlds other than the ones she imagined from a distance, and the one she seemed to be trying so hard to inhabit all on her own.

  CHAPTER 11

  “I’ll walk you to the door.” Grey met Kerry’s eyes as he put his car in park. He’d pulled it as close as possible to Kerry’s front door, so the walk would be short.

  “Thanks.” A flush of self-consciousness heated her cheeks as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the passenger-side door. He probably thought she was a big baby, but she was too grateful for his presence to care much. This was the first time she’d been home – other than a brief stop with Sasha – since she’d discovered the deliberate damage to her tires.

  “No problem.” He stepped out of the car, giving her the courage to do the same.

  No sooner had her shoes touched gravel than her vision blurred with vivid red and blue, the strobing assault of police lights.

  Lights, but no siren – a small town courtesy an unidentified officer was showing Kerry’s quiet road as he cruised down it, pushing the speed limit.

  Kerry’s heart skipped a beat. In her mind, police lights were the stuff of nightmares. It’d been that way ever since that summer, when she’d been surrounded by lights and sirens on Wisteria’s lawn, penned in. Now, she felt heat and pressure on her shoulder as Grey wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his side.

  She was frozen in the bright primary lights radiating from the car, and it didn’t seem like much of a surprise when it came to a rolling halt at the curb in front of her house, though she had no idea why it would be stopping there.

  “It’s all right,” Grey said, and in that moment, Kerry realized it was obvious how scared she was.

  She didn’t have time to reply before an officer climbed out of the car, coming toward them with surprising speed.

  It was Jeremy.

  “We got a call from one of your neighbors,” he said. “She thought she saw someone snooping around your house. Did you know about that?”

  “No.” Kerry heard the word spoken in her own voice, though it felt as if someone else had said it for her.

  “Stay back. I’ll have a look around the house.”

  “Come on.” Grey ushered her back towards his car. “Let’s get you in here.”

  She let him guide her back to the vehicle, where she sat in the passenger seat, her heart beating fast, her fingertips strangely numb.

  Grey braced an arm above the open driver’s side door and leaned down to talk to her, but didn’t get in. “Hey. It’s probably nothing – and if it isn’t, well, you’re not alone.”

  She nodded, wishing for bravery that seemed ridiculously out of her grasp. Despite what Grey said, she couldn’t help but dwell on what seemed obvious: whoever had slashed her tires had returned to do something else, something worse.

  The white beam cast by Jeremy’s flashlight preceded him when he rounded the house, his gun drawn. The sight of his hands against the Glock’s grip kicked Kerry’s uneasiness up a notch, and she wondered if he’d seen or heard anything out of the ordinary.

  He hadn’t. There’d been no sign of anyone, he explained to her and Grey as they stood together beside the car.

  “I didn’t see anything, but I don’t want to write off your neighbor’s complaint. Not after what happened to your car,” Jeremy said.

  Kerry nodded. “What did my neighbor say, exactly?”

  “She didn’t have the clearest of views, with the way houses are spaced so widely apart on this road, but she thought she saw someone looking in your windows. Like a burglar might, casing a place, but I doubt that’s what was going on.”

  “Why?” Kerry asked, though she had the terrible feeling she already knew what he was going to say.

  “Well, it’s unlikely that two unrelated crimes would occur on your property within a day of the other. And whoever slashed your tires wasn’t looking for money – they didn’t even break into your car to steal the stereo or search for other valuables. It was an act of spite or just plain meanness. I don’t mean to scare you, Kerry, but are you sure you can’t think of anyone who might want to bother you like that?”

  Without meaning to, she bit her tongue so hard she tasted blood.

  “It doesn’t have to be an enemy, necessarily, or even someone you’ve actually spoken to. It could be a stranger who you’ve seen around lately, maybe someone you thought you were seeing coincidentally. Anyone who’s said or done anything weird, maybe followed you home from work or a public place…”

  Her throat drew up tight, almost too tight to breathe, and she knew it was time to finally tell the truth.

  * * * * *

  Grey reached out and took one of Kerry’s hands, squeezing. He could feel the way she was shaking, all the way down to her fingertips. Standing in her driveway in front of Jeremy, she seemed tongue-tied, or maybe she was just thinking, trying to fathom who might want to victimize her.

  Grey thought about it too, trying and failing to come up with a helpful suggestion. It made him sick to think someone might be harassing or stalking her, probably with malicious intent. Maybe some kind of pervert. The gumbo he’d eaten at the rehearsal dinner rose in his throat now, burning.

  “Actually,” Kerry said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear, “there is someone I can think of.”

  Jeremy waited, his expression sober, ready to write down what she said. “I’m asking because I want to help,” he said when she didn’t continue.

  She nodded. “His name is Bradley Sawyer. He’s my ex-husband.”

  Kerry’s words hit Grey like a ton of bricks, and he actually felt the breath disappear from his lungs, as if by magic. Ex-husband? Of all the wild possibilities that’d occurred to him, he hadn’t thought of that.

  “I haven’t seen him for three years.” Now that she’d started, her words poured out like heavy rain, washing away Grey’s preconceived notions about her past. “He lives in Kentucky – or at least, as far as I know, he still does. I haven’t had any contact with him, but before I left, he – he swore to do the most terrible things. That’s why I left: I was afraid.”

  “Was he physically abusive when you were with him?” Jeremy asked.

  Kerry nodded.

  The night wasn’t that cold. Grey had been overly-warm at the party, crammed together with so many people, but the temperature seemed to drop significantly as Jeremy took down a physical description of Kerry’s ex-husband, asked what kind of vehicle he might be driving and promised to set up an extra patrol on Kerry’s road.

  “Thank you for your help,” Kerry said when the interview was done, her hand still trembling inside of Grey’s.

  “There’s one more thing that might help,” Jeremy said, “and that’s an ex parte protective order.”

  “I could really get one of those?” Kerry asked. “Even though I don’t know where Brad is?”

  “Probably. It’d just be temporary, but it’d be an extra precaution for the time being. That way, if he approaches you any time soon, it’ll be unlawful. On Monday I can help you file the necessary paperwork at the courthouse and hopefully the judge will grant the te
mporary order same day. You’ll have to describe what kind of abuse he last subjected you to and when. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Okay. Monday it is.” He tipped his head. “Listen, I know Liam and Alicia’s wedding is tomorrow. But maybe you could stay at Sasha’s place with her and Henry. I don’t like the idea of you being here by yourself.”

  Slowly, Kerry nodded. “I could ask.”

  “I’ll call her for you,” Grey said, “and give you a ride.”

  She thanked him, but when Jeremy left, they didn’t get back in the car.

  “I don’t want to go to Sasha’s,” she said, “and not just because I’m embarrassed after last night.”

  A sense of wariness seized Grey. He couldn’t let her stay here on her own, not in these circumstances, and definitely not in her state of mind. She was still trembling, and hadn’t made any attempt to remove her hand from his.

  “I think you should,” he said. “I think Jeremy was right. Why don’t you want to go?”

  “Because if I do, this’ll be the second night I was too afraid to spend the night in my own home because of him. Him, or maybe just the memory of him – I don’t know for sure. But I feel like the world’s biggest coward. I can’t let him take my home from me. I can’t.”

  He wracked his mind for a way to talk her down, to convince her that she couldn’t stay here. Her pride wasn’t worth risking her life. If her ex had scared her so badly that she’d fled the only home she’d ever known, he had to be dangerous.

  “I know it sucks to be afraid, but don’t let this cloud your judgment. You’re not a coward – staying away for the night is the smart thing to do.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to live in fear. You have no idea what it’s like – how much it rules my life. I can’t stand it anymore. I’m staying.”

  He felt everything slipping through his hands like sand and was suddenly terrified – for her and for himself, because he couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to her. “Kerry—”

  “Grey…” Her voice was so soft, it was almost a whisper.

  A pang of frustration sailed through his chest. “What?”

  “Will you come inside with me – stay for a little while? I know it probably seems hypocritical after what I just said, but I don’t want to be alone.”

  “Of course I will.” Hell yes, he would – and she’d have a hard time getting rid of him, if she really planned to stay here all night. He kept the worst criminals in the state behind bars for a living – there was no reason he couldn’t use his skills to keep someone equally twisted out of her house.

  They were inside five seconds later, the door locked behind them.

  “Thank you,” she said, walking over to the couch and sinking down into the center of it.

  He joined her on the sofa, unable to help watching the windows for any sign of movement beyond the curtains even though he knew whoever had been trying to look through them was probably long gone.

  “It’s no problem,” he replied, “I’m relieved that you asked me to stay. I couldn’t have left you here alone. And if you change your mind about wanting to go to Sasha’s place, I’ll take you there.”

  “I won’t.” She looked up, locked him in eye contact. Her eyes were huge and dark, a little wet. “I’d much rather be here with you, even if this is the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to me in the past three years.”

  “Embarrassing?”

  “Oh, come on. Like I ever wanted anyone to know I have a psycho ex-husband who vowed to track me down and kill me if I ever left. This was supposed to be my fresh start.”

  Something flared hot and sharp in the center of Grey’s chest – an anger he rarely felt the likes of. “He said that?”

  “Only about a hundred times.”

  Grey couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead, he took one of her hands again and held it tight. “What a fucking asshole,” he eventually said, unable to hold back.

  “I know.” Her voice was flat, and there was still a trace of wetness in her eyes – a hard gleam that wore on Grey’s emotions, making him feel useless. “I hated him. I still hate him. Please don’t think too much less of me because of this – if you can help it, I mean.”

  “Why would I think less of you? I think we’ve established who the fucking asshole in that relationship was.”

  “I was the one stupid enough to be with him. Don’t think I’m not ashamed of it – I am.”

  “You must’ve been young. Everyone makes mistakes.”

  “Barely eighteen. I married him straight out of highschool, and we were together for five years before I grew a spine and left him. Really, it was six before the divorce went through.

  “As for mistakes, a normal mistake is something like getting a bad ankle tattoo. What I did is something that messed up my entire life.”

  “You really feel that way?”

  “I’m sitting here embarrassing myself in front of you, forcing you to babysit me, aren’t I? I haven’t seen him for years, but sometimes it feels like he still controls what I do. Marrying him was like slapping myself with a life sentence.”

  “It sounds bad, but it won’t be forever. It can’t be. If he’s really here stalking you and destroying your property, he’ll be caught and you can press charges. He won’t get a life sentence, but a little time in a cell might be enough to shake some sense into him.”

  She shook her head. “Knowing him, I doubt that. You have no idea – there’s no way you could. He’s a psychopath.”

  “Do you wanna talk about it?” He wasn’t sure if she would, but he couldn’t imagine how she’d kept silent for three years. The way she made it sound, no one knew. And Grey couldn’t help but think that if Sasha had known, she wouldn’t have let Kerry go home alone tonight without knowing who’d damaged her car.

  “Not really. I couldn’t stand it if you knew any of the details. I’d have to go live under a rock.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. Whatever he did, it’s not your fault.”

  She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t push her. In a way, he was glad – his gut ached and churned at the thought of anyone abusing her, and he got the feeling that the details of what she’d been through might be hard to hear. She was anything but a melodramatic person, and this was the only time he’d ever seen her remotely so upset.

  Truth was, he didn’t know what to do – what he possibly could do – to make her feel better, and it was killing him.

  “Want a drink?” she eventually asked. “Coffee or something?”

  “Do you? I’ll make it for you. You just sit here and relax.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want anything. I just thought you might.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Can I ask you for another favor?”

  “Yeah. What is it?”

  “Will you stay the whole night?”

  “Yeah.” Again, he was relieved she’d asked, that he didn’t have to make an ass out of himself trying to keep her safe. “And don’t feel guilty about asking – this is my chance to return the favor for you taking care of me the other day.”

  She squeezed his hand, and the slight pressure sent heat radiating up his arm and through his body. Maybe he was a dick, but he liked being touched by her, no matter what the circumstances. He couldn’t help it.

  When she leaned against him, he just about jumped, he was so shocked. He quickly adjusted to the warm press of her body against his though, her cheek against his shoulder and her arm against his biceps. He didn’t dare move, for fear that he’d scare her away.

  It must’ve worked, because she didn’t go anywhere, just stayed where she was, hot and soft against him. He was wearing a t-shirt, and her top was short-sleeved too – they were skin-to-skin.

  When he felt her gaze on his face, pulling at him like gravity, he looked down at her and was locked in eye contact.

  Awareness swept through him, hot and immediate, a little unsettling. He c
ould feel the curve of one of her breasts against his arm, and her breath was flowing over his skin. Not getting turned-on was easier said than done.

  He thought of why he was there in the first place, what they were dealing with. He had himself good and ashamed by the time she leaned closer, her lips brushing his jaw.

  Stars spun in his field of vision, like he’d been hit. Her lips were soft though, delicate against his skin. Delicate and hot, pressing harder now, touching the corner of his mouth.

  He leaned in and kissed her, thinking of nothing but her, forgetting where they were for a full, glorious minute. When her tongue slipped between his lips and touched his, he pulled back.

  He searched her gaze for some sign of regret and found none. He was almost tempted to pinch himself, in case he was dreaming. His lips were still tingling though, and his cock – fully hard now – was pressing so desperately against his jeans that it hurt. The sensations were too real to be a dream, even an erotic one.

  When she leaned in again he went with it, slipped his tongue easily between her lips, letting it tangle with hers. She tasted so good – like wine and fruit from the party – and she was warmer than he ever could’ve imagined. Another minute into the kiss and she was halfway in his lap, no longer just pressing against him, but actually on him.

  When her thigh pressed against his dick and she didn’t shy away, he stopped kissing her. She had to feel him – he was so hard it felt like he might split at the seams.

  “We should stop,” he forced himself to say. “This isn’t the time to mess around like this.”

  He was terrified of taking things too far, of taking advantage of her. At the same time, he ached for more – more of anything she’d give him, or let him take. It was an animal urge sharpened by months of longing and fantasizing, and he had to fight to keep it in check.

  “Thanks,” she said, “for being so gentlemanly. But I don’t want to stop.”

 

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