by Chrys Fey
Blake handed her a cup of coffee. She took a sip. “Wow! Not as strong as this coffee,” she said and downed the hot medicine in one gulp.
“No woman I know can drink the coffee from a police station that fast either. Herro, make sure you give her something for her muscles. After a run like that, you are susceptible to cramps and we sure don’t want you to be in pain. We’ll get these men, Ms. Hart, I promise.” Blake and Chief Witten exchanged nods, confirming the promise.
“Come on.” Blake took her hand and helped her up. “Let’s go get some grub. Do you like Mickey Dee’s?”
“I would be un-American if I didn’t.” She ate two double cheeseburgers, a large fry, and an apple pie before clonking out in the passenger’s seat of his car.
****
Dani relived the horrible events of the last twenty-four hours in reverse. She was running backward. Out of the alley. Up the street. Back into the hospital. She undid stitches, unwrapped bandages. She dashed out of the O.R. with Tara on the stretcher all the way to the ambulance where the paramedics loaded her back on, shut the doors, and sped off.
Now Blake was pinning her on the ground. They flew into the air, twisting until they were on their feet, and ran backward to the car where she had leapt out of the passenger’s seat. The car reversed all the way back to the heart of Cleveland.
In rewind, they slunk through the alley. The fire escape flew back up with her on it and she slipped back inside the open window. Then she found herself lying in the chest with Blake on top of her. And time went forward.
“The owner will be back,” she could hear Red telling his men. “So we’ll be back, too.”
“What if the doctor doesn’t come home?” came the same reply.
“We’ll come for—”
Silence…
Dani swallowed. What was happening?
All of a sudden, the lid of the chest flew open, revealing Blake and Dani. Red sneered at them as he pointed his gun inside the chest. The sound of the bullet was deafening and the blood that splattered on her face was warm.
Blake’s body became dead weight. Blood poured from his head, soaking her. Dani screamed. Then Red pointed the gun at her and pulled the trigger.
****
Dani thrashed violently in Blake’s bed. She was kicking, flailing her arms, and screaming on the top of her lungs.
Blake grabbed her. “Dani, wake up.” He shook her to pull her out of the nightmare. “You’re dreaming.”
“Blake?” Tears muffled her voice.
“It’s me. You’re okay.”
She turned in his arms and flung herself about his neck, holding on for dear life. “They found us,” she sobbed against his neck. “They opened the chest and killed us.”
“No, they didn’t. We’re both safe and alive.”
She held him tighter. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged. “I don’t want to wake up with another nightmare and be alone.”
He ran his hand over her hair. “I won’t leave you, I promise. I’ll stay with you tonight.” He fixed the blanket with one hand and pulled it over their legs. He lay down with Dani clutching him.
It was at that moment she started to cry. She could handle the Mob busting into her apartment. She could handle hiding in her grandmother’s chest. She could handle running a trillion miles, but that nightmare was too much for her to bear.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” Blake reminded her. Throughout the rest of the night, he lay beside her, holding and comforting her.
****
She woke in the morning and felt so cozy and warm she didn’t want to get out of bed. She cuddled against the pillow, wanting to savor the comfort until she realized the pillow was Blake’s chest.
She slowly eased away. She couldn’t believe she snuggled up to him all night long. She wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. And drooled on him too!
She sat up, crossed her legs beneath her, and stared at Blake. He was so handsome. She wanted to lie back down and drool on him some more, but he raised his arms over his head and stretched. She watched his muscles ripple and his shirt rise. She could see the sexy trail of soft hair peeking out from beneath his pants and the muscles of his torso. Her mouth watered.
I need coffee, she thought as she rubbed her eyes. Coffee was her one hope to banish the ridiculous ideas in her head.
“Good morning.”
She uncovered her eyes. Blake was lying on his back, his hands behind his head. Looking at him, his curly hair unkept, she felt like pouncing on him. Who needs coffee when you can have him for breakfast?
“Back atcha,” she said. “And thank you for staying with me last night.”
“No problem. You were really scared.”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t get those men out of my head. Chief Witten told me they were the ones responsible for the deaths of those ten police officers last month. I remember that night vividly. The E.R. had been quiet, which is always a bad sign. I was the only resident on so I took the most critical. They had pumped eight bullets into his chest.” She shook her head solemnly, dropped her eyes. “I lost him. I massaged his heart. I did everything I could, but I lost him.”
Blake’s voice was empathetic but stern when he spoke. “That’s not your fault.”
“I’m a doctor,” she told him. “It was my job to save him. I lost a man who risked his life every single day to protect the people in this city. Ten cops, Blake. Ten! I fucking hate that.”
“So do I. I want to stop them if it’s the last thing I do. I just never thought you would get in the middle of it.”
She looked at him innocently. “Oops.”
“It’s my fault.” He looked down at his hand. “My fault,” he muttered.
She was about to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but his head snapped up and he asked, “How do you massage a heart?”
“Make a fist.” He curled his fingers into his palm and she linked her fingers around his fist. “The heart has to be between your hands to massage it.” She pumped his fist as she had pumped the officer’s heart that night. “You have to do it hard enough to pump the blood. However, a heart is a delicate muscle, so you want to be gentle at the same time.” She did five more compressions.
When she lifted her eyes, she found Blake’s eyes hot on hers. She cleared her throat uneasily, released his hand, and slipped hers between her knees. His gaze followed them, then rose up her legs to the string on her scrubs, and finally to her eyes.
She slid to the edge of the bed, away from his blazing stare. “I want to take a quick shower.” Before he could reply, she was stepping into the huge shower, the water on full blast. She lathered her hair with her peach shampoo until a white halo capped her head. Soapy water slid down her back and legs and pooled around her ankles. With conditioner in her hair, she scrubbed her whole body with Blake’s loofa and quickly ran a razor over her legs before stepping out. In a towel cocoon, she brushed her teeth and applied a bit of makeup to hide the fatigue etched under her eyes.
She dressed, tied her wet hair into an impatient knot, and started to unpack. She hung up the gorgeous dress, figuring she would probably die before ever getting to wear it, stacked her favorite books on the nightstand, hid her photo album under the bed, and slipped her clothes into the drawer Blake had emptied for her.
Downstairs, she found Blake behind the stove. She smiled at the scene. No man had ever cooked for her, but here Blake was cooking a meal for her for the second time.
“Can I help?”
Blake didn’t turn. He pointed at a spatula and indicated the skillet where four pancakes were getting tan. She picked up the skillet, slipped the spatula beneath one of the cakes, and with a flick of her wrist sent it flipping into the air. She held the pan out and expertly caught the pancake.
“Show off,” he murmured.
She finished flipping the other pancakes while he scrambled eggs in a hot pan, rolled sausages, and flipped bacon. When the pancakes were done cooking, she put them on the tabl
e with a bottle of syrup. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Black.”
She poured the coffee and handed one to Blake as they sat at the table. “You know, you’ve cooked dinner and breakfast for me.”
He shrugged. “You have to eat.”
She sipped her coffee and examined Blake over the top of her mug. “I want to cook dinner for you tonight.” He looked at her, a forked sausage halfway to his mouth. Smiling to herself, she cut a triangle from her stack of pancakes.
“Why?”
“You have to eat.” She snapped a crispy piece of bacon in half and took a bite.
“It’s against the rules.”
“Eating?” She raised a brow at him. “I’m not asking for a date, nor am I going to poison you. I make awesome eggplant parmesan.”
“I don’t have eggplant,” he said, shoveling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth as if that would end all further discussion.
“We can pick one up.”
“Excuse me?” He looked at her. “You aren’t going anywhere. Not with Red and his men after you.”
Thanks to you, she thought.
“Correction. They’re after us. I highly doubt we’d see them while picking out eggplant, unless they get a craving for cucumbers.”
Blake looked at her as though she were nuts. “I’ll think about it.” He set his plate in the sink. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be down in five minutes. Don’t go anywhere!” She saluted him with her fork, two pancake triangles stuck on the end with a line of syrup dripping off it.
She listened to the shower turn on and the water trickle down the pipes as she ate her eggs. When she finished, she carried her dishes to the sink, snatched up a tall glass, filled it with orange juice, and chugged down every tangy drop. While licking the sweetness from her lips, she faced the small window above the sink.
The snow was sweating beneath the sun’s warmth and two birds were circling each other in a mad frenzy. Smiling, she filled the sink with water and scrubbed the syrup from their breakfast plates. She was humming to herself when she dunked her orange juice glass under the water and watched the birds. The male chased after the female, charming her with his feathers, trying to get her in his nest. Typical male. She glanced down at the glass as she washed it. When she looked back up, she let out a gasp and the glass fell from her hands.
A moment later, Blake hurried into the kitchen with a towel slipping lower on his hips. “What happened?”
She turned to him. “No, watch out!” But he kept coming. “There’s glass. Your feet!”
He walked over the glass. “Fuck my feet,” he said and grabbed her. “Are you okay?” She didn’t speak. She stared at him with wide eyes and her mouth open.
“Dani.” He shook her. “Talk to me! What happened?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.” She pointed over her shoulder at the little kitchen window. “Mailman. I got startled. Soapy hands. The glass fell.”
“So you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
She was better than okay. Her arms were against his bare chest. He was wet from his shower and his skin was dampening her clothes. She could feel his muscles and see every inch of them. Her eyes lowered to the towel hanging tantalizingly low on his hips. Part of her wanted to rip the towel away, jump on the counter, and pull him into her but Blake released her and readjusted the towel.
“I’m sorry for grabbing you.”
“Apology not accepted.” Her gaze roamed over his nearly naked body then met his. “I’m not sorry, not in the least.” In his eyes, she could tell he was having the same debate—should he take her on the counter now or walk away? She hoped his dangerous side was more persuasive than hers was.
“You will be sorry,” he replied, his voice low. “If I get glass in my feet.”
He went upstairs to put on some clothes as Dani cleaned up the broken glass. She dumped the shards into the wastebasket and shook her head. I can’t believe I have the hots for the man who led the Mob straight to me. She dived into washing the rest of the dirty dishes, scrubbing vigorously. Her arm ached and her insides were cool by the time she finished.
Blake came back downstairs wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but the look of him half-naked would always be etched in her mind.
“I’m going to the market to get your eggplant,” he said as he picked up his car keys.
“Great!” She stood.
“No, you’re staying here. Keep the doors locked. Don’t open them for anyone. My cell is on speed dial if you need to reach me, and that…” He pointed at the gun on the table, “will be right there. I won’t be gone long.”
She glared at him. She knew he was ordering her and despised it. “Well, since you’re going to the market, you should get olive oil, mozzarella cheese, tomatoes, and basil.” He blinked at her. “Make sure the tomatoes are organic and get fresh basil. None of that dried crap.”
He lifted a brow. “Anything else?”
“I’ll call you if I think of anything.”
“Fine, but don’t leave this house!”
She lifted her hand. “Do you want to handcuff my wrist to this couch?”
He smirked. “Next time.” And he left.
Dani threw herself on the couch. Is this protective custody or house arrest? She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around the room. This place sure is nice for a cop’s pay. Empty, but nice. A man only needs a couch, bed, table, and one killer entertainment center. She grinned. Look at the size of those speakers!
She bounced off the couch and examined Blake’s entertainment center. She pulled open a drawer, finding an awesome collection of horror movies. Then she found the music including some of her favorites—Pink Floyd, John Lennon, The Eagles, Sex Pistols, The Cure, and The Who. She took out a CD, put it in the player, and cranked up the volume.
She jumped up and down, threw her hands in the air. She was letting loose, letting the music whisk her far away as her body bumped against the air.
An hour later, the speakers in the living room were beating like hearts inside a marathon runner’s chest, and Dani was in the middle of it all. She sat cross-legged on a swivel chair as it spun.
Suddenly, a pair of hands caught the armrests, halting the chair’s rotation. She flinched, but she kept her eyes shut to fight against the dizziness even when a hand cupped her cheek and lips pressed against hers. Instantly, she knew whose mouth it was and accepted Blake’s tongue into her mouth. She dived into the kiss, wanting to put out the fire burning inside her and squash the need before it could grow into something she wouldn’t be able to stop.
Blake took her shoulders and lifted her out of the chair. He pulled her to his body and she wrapped her arms about his neck. He deepened the kiss, making her dizzier than when she was spinning in the chair. Her hands slipped under his sweater and up his back. Her hands tingled with the feel of his burning skin. She heard his moan and tasted it on the tip of her tongue. He pulled her closer, and she strained against him with desperation hot in her veins. It throbbed, pounded, and banged inside her screaming body. Her fingers dived into the soft curls atop his head.
After everything that had happened, she needed this. She needed to touch the muscles that made her feel safe, feel him on top of her, in her.
Right when she thought she would get drunk off his lips, he took her arms, put them at her sides, and backed away from her. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
Her head was spinning. She slowly came down to Earth and the ground slowly stopped moving beneath her feet.
“Why not,” she said and opened her eyes, but Blake wasn’t there. She lowered to chair as a crack formed in her heart.
****
Dinner was awkward and uncomfortable. Dani sat across from Blake, frowning into her eggplant parmesan as they ate in silence. The first words they said to each other since the kiss was when Blake told her dinner was good.
“I’ll wash the dishes,” he offered.
“Thanks,” she
said and left.
She was reading a book when Blake finished his chore. She turned the page as he entered the living room and kept on reading. She didn’t so much as glance up at him.
He sat on the other end of the couch and turned on the news. She turned her head to the other page, but she hadn’t comprehended a single word since Blake came into the room. The air started to hum with tension again, making it hard for her to breathe. She closed the book and turned to him. Whatever happened, she wanted to know.
“Blake?” She waited for him to look at her. “I don’t know if it was a hallucination or not, so I have to ask.” She paused to collect her nerves. “Did you kiss me?”
His jaw tightened. “Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “It was real.”
“So why’d you walk away as if nothing happened?”
“Because I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
She stared at him and nodded. “You’re probably right.” She opened her book again and was about to resume her fake reading when he took the book from her hands. He was right next to her. She could feel his body heat beating against her skin. She didn’t look at him.
“I’m supposed to protect you,” he told her. “That’s my job.” She swallowed as the crack in her heart throbbed. “I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you right now, but I can’t. I’m a police officer and you’re a victim in the middle of a dangerous situation. I crossed the line once but I can’t do it again.”
“Looks like you’re in a bit of a dilemma,” she stated.
She stood and calmly took her book out of his hands. Now she did look him in the eye while the crack in her heart widened with each beat. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell Chief Witten you kissed me, so you can keep your dignity and your career.” She turned her back on him and went upstairs.
In Blake’s room, she paced back and forth. How the hell can I let myself develop feelings for him? He’s a dedicated police officer and I’m only a victim, a job. She stopped at the window, stared at the backyard, the light snow, and the woods stretching out for miles. The peaceful scene calmed her.
