Sinner’s Salvation

by Jessica Ames

  I flip the envelope and skim a finger under the flap to open it.

  “So, what are you thinking of for dinner?” I ask Chris.

  “Do you like Chinese?”

  “Yup.”

  He smiles. “I know a great place that delivers.”

  “Hmm, I’m sold,” I tell him as I wrestle the contents of the letter I’m trying to open out of the envelope.

  It spills onto the countertop and as I reach for the first thing, I freeze. There are several photographs of me. They’ve clearly been taken while I was unaware. The lub-dub of my heart starts to pick up speed.

  “What the fuck?” Chris mutters, as he turns them to look at them. His jaw gets tighter with each one.

  I pull the letter out and open it up. It’s a handwritten note on plain paper—no lines. I barely take the contents in as I skim over the threats and vile words contained on the page. Whoever penned it is clearly annoyed that they went to the trouble of telling me how they felt with the flowers and now I’m with Chris. This is a disrespectful decision that will have consequences.

  My heart is racing now, and I place the letter on the counter before wiping my sweaty palms on my pants. Chris is moving before I can open my mouth. He comes around the other side of the counter and reads the letter without touching it.

  “Fuck,” is all he says when he’s done reading. He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of the letter, then puts the handset to his ear.

  “Hey, Curt. It’s me. I’ve sent you an image. Do you have it?” He pauses, and I try not to lose my mind as I stare at the photographs of me. They’re of various locations—outside the care center, at the store, but most concerning is there are a few of me coming and going from the house. This psychopath has been camped outside the house, just waiting for me to leave. There are also two photos of me and Chris, but Chris’s head has been scratched out.

  I’ve brought him into my disaster.

  And I couldn’t feel worse.

  25

  Chris

  She’s scared. I can tell, even though she’s trying to hide it from me. I hold her against me, sifting my fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck as we sit on the couch, waiting. April called her friend, Bekah, who is on her way, but I feel better knowing my brother is looking into this stuff as well. He and his old team are better placed than the police to find out who is doing this. And now things are getting more serious, I need the information STAT. I can’t handle anything happening to April—not now, not ever.

  “Who’s doing this?” she whispers out on a choked hiccough.

  “I don’t know, April, but we’ll figure it out.”

  “You shouldn’t even be here. I’m toxic, and you’re now on this person’s radar, Chris—because of me.” I feel her tremble against me and when she tries to pull away, I don’t let her go.

  “I’m not walking away,” I tell her, my voice firm.

  “You shouldn’t walk. You should run. This guy is a psycho. If you get hurt because of my trouble—”

  “I’m not going to get hurt.” When she starts to object, I say, “April, I’m a trained soldier. Okay, I’ve been out of service for a long time now, but that shit doesn’t vanish out of my head. I still know how to take care of myself—how to take care of you, too. Please, don’t push me away now.”

  I’m begging, I know, but I don’t care. I’ll beg on my knees if necessary to keep her. She’s my calm in the storm, my light in the dark, and I’m not letting her go. I’m also not letting anyone touch her. The photographs are creepy, and I’m worried someone managed to take them when I was right there with her, but I’m not dwelling on that for the moment. For now, all I care about is keeping her safe and whole. I’ll worry about my failings later.

  “This is dangerous, Chris.”

  “And what do you think I am?” I say the words with a hard edge, and I hate that she shudders in my arms, but I need her to know I can take care of us both. I also need her to know I’m not letting her shove me out of this. I’m involved. My frigging head is scratched out. That suggests a personal hate toward me that won’t be appeased by me simply disappearing from her life.

  Even if I could do it, I won’t. April means more to me than that, and I can’t abandon her when she needs me most.

  “Chris…”

  “I’m serious, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She’s stopped from responding by the sound of keys in the front door. We both glance toward it as Bekah steps into the house followed by a couple of suited men. She says something to them, and they wait by the door while she steps through the arch into the living area. She eyes me before her gaze softens on April.

  “What happened?” the detective demands.

  April haltingly tells her about the letter, which is still sitting on the breakfast bar in the kitchen.

  “Did either of you touch it?” she asks once April is finished.

  “I did when I opened it.”

  I knew better than to put my prints on it, so I didn’t touch anything that came out of that envelope. I simply looked.

  “I didn’t,” I tell her.

  She nods. “Okay, I’ll get a forensics team down here, see if we can lift prints or anything else from the letter.” Bekah squeezes April’s knee. “It’ll be okay, sweetie. I promise. No one is going to hurt you.”

  April’s smile is forced. I’m sure we both know this, but neither of us says a word to her.

  “You can’t stay here with this lunatic running around,” I tell her and Bekah.

  I think the woman might argue with me, but then her shoulders sag and she shakes her head. “Staying here is the best chance we have of catching the suspect. I’ll have a couple of units watching the house at night. If he or she shows up, we can grab them.”

  My ire grows at this. I don’t want her in danger at all, and this keeps April in the firing line of this lunatic. “You’re not using April as bait.”

  “Chris—” April starts, but Bekah talks over her.

  “Believe me, I don’t like it either, but what other choice is there? We can’t run from this. Stalkers tend to get a little more persistent when you take the object of their obsession away. I don’t want to put April in more danger than she already is in, Chris, trust me on that, but at this juncture, doing nothing is the best path.”

  “No,” I tell her. I’m not keen on this plan at all.

  Bekah lets out a long breath. “If there was another way I’d do it, but there’s not. This guy obviously feels comfortable to come and go as he pleases here. He’s got no problem sending mail here or just strolling right into the house with the front door key. We change location, we’re starting again. I want this person caught as soon as possible, and I don’t want April to get caught in the line of fire in the process.”

  “So, how do we keep her safe?” I demand.

  I watch as Bekah pushes a few strands of hair that have escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “We stay vigilant and the police keep doing their thing.”

  Not good enough, not by a long shot. “And?”

  “And there’ll be surveillance on the house too.” Her face contorts. “Look, I get that you care about her, but so do I. She’s my best friend, and I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”

  “Guys, come on,” April interrupts. “Play nice.”

  Not wanting to cause her any more stress, I back down, but I’m still not entirely happy with this plan. I could never be happy with a plan that dangles April out there like a carrot on a stick. She’s not a means to an end, she’s a person—a person I happen to be immensely fond of. I don’t want anything to happen to her, and all it takes is a second for things to get out of control.

  “I’m staying with you.”

  April blinks. “Chris, you have your own life.”

  I take her hands in mine, noticing how cold they feel despite the heat today, and say, “The only thing that matters in my life right now is you, and keeping you safe is my top priority.”
>
  Her bottom lip wobbles and her eyes get shiny with tears. “I can’t believe this is happening. What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Bekah assures her. “There’s no rhyme or reason for these things.”

  “But this is our home—your home, Bekah, and we’re not even safe here.” Her head drops into her hands. “I’ve made a mess for everyone.”

  “Hey, this isn’t your fault,” I tell her.

  Bekah nods her agreement. “The only person to blame for this is the asshole doing it.”

  “I’ll get a hotel room.”

  “April, no,” I say at the same as Bekah says, “Absolutely not.”

  She scowls at us both. “I’m an adult, which means I get to decide where I stay, and right now, I think a hotel would be the safest option for everyone involved.”

  Bekah shakes her head, which I’m glad for. The thought of April alone in a hotel scares me half to death. There are so many risk factors to take into account. It’s more dangerous for her to be in a hotel than she probably could imagine.

  She can’t stay with her own family, since she’s originally from Tennessee. Milo moved her here shortly after they got married, although getting the hell out of town might be the safest plan. I also know April wouldn’t do it. She loves her job too much and this thing could drag out for months.

  “Too many people come and go from hotels,” Bekah explains. “It would be too easy for this whack job to breeze right in without anyone questioning him. They may think he’s a guest or visiting a guest. It’s too dangerous, April. Although I appreciate what you’re trying to do, you’re safer here.” She turns to me. “You don’t work nights, right?”

  I shake my head. “I’ll be here when she needs me.”

  “Great.”

  I stroke up April’s arm. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  And I won’t. I’ll die before I let a hair on her head be touched.

  26

  Chris

  “I had the guys pull the security footage from around the florists,” Curt says in my ear.

  I clutch the handset harder as I brace to hear who the hell is tormenting April like this.

  “And?”

  “And nothing. Whoever it was avoided all the cameras.”

  Frustration rolls through me that we’re no closer to an answer. The ex, Milo, had an alibi for the time the house was broken into and the keys replaced, not that I think that absolves him. April was traumatized, she could have been off with her timings. If she went to sleep earlier than she thinks or later, there would be a window of opportunity for Milo to do it.

  He’s top of my list of suspects, but I’m not sure if that is because I think he’s guilty or if it’s because I hate the guy. I don’t really know him—only what April has told me and what I witnessed myself—but I’m convinced he’s a moron.

  Being a moron doesn’t make someone a stalker, though.

  And that is what April is facing—a stalker.

  Bekah used the word yesterday and as soon as she said it made the blood freeze in my veins. Stalking isn’t as benign as it seems. Plenty of people are killed by stalkers each year, and I’ll be damned if I let April become a statistic.

  What I feel for her is growing fast and it’s growing furiously. Years of keeping my emotions under lock and key are catching up with me and now I can’t deny my feelings any longer. I hate that I wasted so much time. I hate that I could lose her, just as I’ve found my way to her.

  No, I refuse to let that happen. I’m not letting her go, not because of some nutjob. Bekah will find the guy behind this, and if she doesn’t, I will. I’m not prepared to sit back and do nothing. Not this time. I couldn’t save Luke from his fate, but I sure as fuck can save April.

  Or maybe she’s going to save me. I’m not sure. All I know is the salvation I desperately crave is somehow entwined with her. If I can save a life, maybe my past sins will be absolved.

  It’s a ridiculous notion—I know it—but my brain is latched onto it and isn’t letting go.

  “That doesn’t really help much, Curt,” I complain.

  My brother makes a noise down the phone. “Yeah, bro, I know, but we can only work with what we’ve got.” He pauses. “The letter and photographs you sent have me worried.”

  I’m worried too, but I don’t tell my brother this. The last thing I need is for him to ride in to save my ass. There are already too many people I care about involved in this clusterfuck as it is.

  “The police are looking into it.”

  He snorts. “You clearly don’t trust them, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought me in on this.”

  “I brought you in because you’re good at this stuff.”

  I hear him let out a huff of air. “Chris, are you in danger? And don’t lie to me.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. This asshole hasn’t done anything directly to me. It’s all been aimed at April.”

  “This girl’s important to you,” he surmises correctly.

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “We’ll keep digging,” Curt says finally. “Stay safe and if you need anything call. Me and the team will be with you as fast as we can get there.”

  This alleviates some of my concerns, considering the Trident Security team is only two and a half hours from Daytona by car and Curt is just a flight away.

  “Thanks, bro. Give Dana and the kids a squeeze from me.”

  “Will do. Later.”

  He hangs up, and I pocket my cell. I’m worried about this mess, for sure. I’m not an idiot. I realize the potential danger me and April are both in, but going anywhere and leaving her to deal with this alone isn’t an option.

  “Hey.”

  At April’s softly spoken word, I turn and glance at her. She’s standing in the living room doorway, her hair mussed from sleep and she’s wearing the tightest yoga pants I’ve ever seen. My cock takes immediate notice, even though I try to communicate that this is not the time.

  After the police left and we were finally alone in her house, I told her to go take a nap. I didn’t expect her to be awake for a while yet.

  “Did you manage to get some rest?” I move to her, needing to touch her, feel her. I envelop her in my arms, pulling her against me, and she burrows her face into my chest in a way that has me wanting to fist punch the air.

  “Yeah, I slept for a little bit.” She makes a content noise in the back of her throat. “You smell nice.”

  Clearly, she’s still groggy, but I chuckle. “I smell nice?”

  “Yeah, like… man and yumminess.”

  “Sweetheart, are you still asleep?”

  I watch the top of her head swing back and forth, though she doesn’t lift it from my chest. “Nope. I’m just stating facts.”

  Carefully, I get a finger under her chin and tip her head up. Her eyes scan my face for a moment before she rolls to her toes and kisses me. It doesn’t take me by surprise, but I don’t expect it, so it takes me a split second to react.

  I take her mouth, my tongue sliding along the slit of her lips. She grants me access and as soon as I’m in, I find her tongue and it begins to duel with mine. She tastes divine and I want to push her onto the couch and take her. I’m not sure she’s ready for that, though. There’s so much going on, and I don’t want to take advantage of her while she’s vulnerable, so I break the kiss before things get too heated.

  “Why’d you stop?” She stumbles over her words slightly, sounding a little punch-drunk.

  “Because we’re heading toward a path we shouldn’t, not while this stuff is going on.”

  “But what if I want to head down that path?” The way she peers up at me has my cock stirring. Jesus, fuck, if she keeps looking at me like this, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from taking a slice of what she’s offering.

  “April.” Her name cracks with a hint of warning.

  She doesn’t heed it. Her hands slip under my tee and up the bare skin of my back.
My breaths are ripping out in heavy pants as she strokes me and recaptures my mouth.

  I let her, because I’m weak, and because I need her as much as she clearly needs me. When her hand moves from my back to my front and rubs over my jean-clad cock, I’m done for. I can’t control the need, the desire I have for her, and my will to be inside her is greater than my will to control myself.

  She rubs me through the denim until my dick is painfully pushing against the zipper. My own hands go wandering, too. I squeeze her left tit before gently massaging it in my big hand. Then I slip under her tee. I feel the muscles of her abdomen quiver as I move up her stomach and to her bra. I don’t bother unhooking it, I just dip my fingers inside the cup and find the hardened bud there. Slowly, I roll it, feeling it harden more and eliciting a moan from her that has my balls tightening. She’s so receptive, so willing, and I love it, but I need to see more of her.

  I pull her tee over her head and unfasten her bra. I’m greeted with dark nipples and I waste no time. I push her back onto the couch carefully, and then I go to work. I take the first nipple in my mouth and suck on it until it’s erect. Then I do the same to the other. Alternating between the two, my free hand goes between her legs to cup her pussy. I want in her pants, but for the time being, I continue feasting on her tits while rubbing her through her clothes.

  I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s a bad idea when she’s so screwed up by everything, but she doesn’t tell me to stop and she instigated it, so I keep doing what I’m doing.

  “Chris, I need more…” she gasps.

  “What do you need, sweetheart?”

  “More.”

  “Tell me what,” I order as I continue to worship her breasts.

  “Your fingers… in me.” She says it hesitantly, even a little shy.