Fall With Me

by J. Lynn

  I gave a lopsided shrug. “Hank was giving me a WTF look. I don’t blame him. It all sounds highly suspect.”

  “Fuck Hank. He’s an idiot. And when I get my hands on whoever is messing with you, I’m seriously going to fucking kill him. But that’s something we’ll talk about later.”

  My head shot up and I gaped at him. His reaction shocked me, all things considered.

  Reece stood. “I don’t want you staying here.”

  The idea of staying here, especially right now, was something I also did not want to do.

  “I’m also going to need to take your phone in to see if we can get prints off it that aren’t mine, yours, or Hank’s. Nick hasn’t touched it, right?”

  I shook my head. Tonight had been a blur. “I don’t think so.”

  “Do you have an extra phone you can switch ser­vice to in the meanwhile?”

  “Yeah. I have an older one.”

  “Good. Why don’t you pack up some stuff,” he said, stepping around the couch. “I’ll take you to my place. I still got a ­couple of hours left on my shift, but at least you’ll be able to get some sleep.”

  I was back to thinking I was hallucinating things.

  When I didn’t move, Reece continued. “That works out perfectly. I need you to talk to Colton. He can come by my place. He’s been investigating what’s been happening around here. That’s why I had to go let out his dog Tuesday morning.”

  It struck me then, the conversation between Brock and Jax. “The girl who works at Brock’s training place?”

  Reece eyes narrowed on me. “You heard?”

  “Yeah, Brock was in the bar. He said . . .” I shivered. “He said she was really messed up. Was she . . . ?” I couldn’t even bring myself to say it.

  Cop Face appeared. All emotion gone. “I can’t go into details. Not because I don’t trust that you’d keep it quiet, but it’s out of respect for the vic. But we’re pretty sure all the attacks recently are linked. The violence has been escalating.”

  “To what?” I whispered.

  His gaze held mine. “It’s been physical—­worse than you can imagine.”

  A shudder of revulsion rolled through me. “Oh my God, those poor girls. I . . .” My eyes widened. “You don’t think this has anything to do with what happened to them?”

  He knelt down, placing a hand on my knee. “I don’t know, but nothing—­I swear it—­nothing like that is going to happen to you. Now, come on, let’s get going.”

  I watched him straighten and turn. “Wait. I can’t go to your place.”

  Facing me, he cocked his head to the side. “Why not?”

  “Why not? Um, I think you pretty much made it clear that you . . . that I lied and you can’t deal with that. So I can’t stay with you.” There was no way I could put myself through that. “I can go to my parents.”

  His face softened by a degree. “You and I still need to talk. Now just isn’t the right time for that. You’re coming home with me.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I really don’t think you have the right to be so bossy.”

  “Do you really want to wake up your parents? You see what time it is, and scare them like that?”

  I gaped at him. “Dammit, you’re right, but that’s low.”

  “It’s not low. It’s just the truth,” he replied. “Come on, let’s get your stuff and get you the hell out of here.”

  Honestly, I could sit there and argue with him. I could go to Katie’s or wait until it was a more decent hour, but I could see the determination etched into his features. This wasn’t a battle I’d win easily and frankly, I was exhausted and I didn’t want to be there any longer than I had to.

  Dragging myself up, I headed back to my bedroom with him in tow. While I grabbed some clothes, he checked out the other room. Being in my room gave me the creeps, and I didn’t know if that was going to ever change.

  I exhaled roughly, fighting the urge to cry.

  Reece came out of my second bedroom, his face a shade or two paler. I stilled, my hand hovering over the strap on my overnight bag. “Did you find something?”

  Reece blinked as he shook his head. “No. You almost ready?”

  Slipping a long, thick sweater on that reached my knees, I grabbed my bag and slipped my feet into my flats. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

  Reece was silent as he led me out of the house and locked up. As I stepped off the porch, both upstairs apartments had lights on, and I told myself I needed to bake them cookies or something.

  I got to sit in the passenger seat of a police cruiser—­which, surprisingly, smelled pleasant, like fresh apples—­and any other time, I’d have been excited about all the buttons and potential noise-­making power, but I stared out the window, into the darkness as dawn steadily crept into the horizon.

  “You hanging in there?” Reece asked.

  Glancing over at him, I was struck with the urge to reach out and smooth my fingers along his jaw. To touch him. For him to touch me. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

  He sent me a sideways look that was a cross between amused and worried. “It’s all right not to be okay in a situation like this.”

  I lowered my gaze to my hands, keeping my mouth shut.

  We didn’t speak again as we drove to his place. He lived in a condo near Jax, a rather large apartment on the third floor. He let me in, and the crisp scent of laundry greeted me as I stepped inside.

  Reece eased around me, flipping on the lights. I blinked against the brightness, wondering how exactly my night had ended up with me staying at Reece’s.

  He had a wide foyer that led into a large galley kitchen and dining room. The living room was neat with an exception of a basket of laundry sitting on the coffee table.

  Reece frowned as he saw it.

  Walking over to the basket, he picked it up. “You know where the bed is, and if I remember correctly, you thought it was really comfortable, so make yourself at home.”

  Surprise fluttered through me at the lack of rancor in his tone as he mentioned that night. I hadn’t moved very far, only placing my bag near the couch, by the time he reappeared in the living room. Amused, I watched him swipe up a bag of chips that was on the end table and take them to the trash in the kitchen.

  “I’ve got to head to the office, get your phone to Evidence to see if we can do prints,” he said, running a hand through his hair. The movement caused his biceps to strain against the hem of his uniform. “I got a landline in several rooms. The number to the office is on the fridge. Call that or my cell if you need to. I should be back a little after eight or so.”

  I nodded.

  He stopped in front of me, and I drew in a deep breath. Pulling the sides of my sweater tight, I lifted my chin. His eyes searched mine.

  “I’m not really okay with what happened,” I admitted in a small voice. “Any of it.”

  Somehow, I think he got that I wasn’t just talking about what happened in my apartment. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to say anything. That he’d just turn around and walk out of his apartment.

  But then he moved forward and slowly—­oh so slowly—­wrapped one arm around my shoulders and then tugged me close. I hesitated for a second and then I went, pressing my cheek against his chest. The cool edge of his badge was sharp against my cheek but I didn’t care. The warmth of his body, of his embrace, was worth it.

  His other hand cupped the back of my neck and he lowered his chin to the top of my bowed head. He drew in a deep breath I could feel, and I closed my eyes. “I know,” he replied in a rough voice. “I know, Roxy.”

  Reece held me for a few seconds more and then he stepped back. The hand around my neck slipped to my cheek. His eyes met mine. “Get some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  I didn’t move until I heard the door close and lock and I still didn’t move for
several minutes. Reece said to take his bed, but there was no way I could sleep back there. Not with how things were left between us. Yes, he was helping me out now, but he was a good guy. That’s what good guys do.

  Moving two of the throw pillows to one side of his overstuffed beige couch, I dragged the quilt off the back of the couch and then stretched out. The cushions sucked me in immediately, and when I closed my eyes, I knew it wouldn’t take me long to sleep. As crazy as it sounded, I felt safe here and I didn’t fight the sleep that tugged at me.

  I slipped into a dreamless sleep for I don’t know how long. Minutes? Hours, maybe? But it was the deep kind of sleep that when I woke from it, I couldn’t figure out my surroundings right off.

  I was at Reece’s place. Right. I remembered that, falling asleep almost immediately on his really comfy couch. He had really good taste in furniture. I started to stretch, but stilled when I realized the couch was oddly hard . . . and warm.

  Confused, I moved my right hand and it slipped over something as smooth as silk stretched over marble—­something also warm and very hard. And rippled. My fingers dipped. Was that a navel?

  My eyes flew open.

  Holy moley, I was so not where I’d fallen asleep. This was not the couch I was plastered against or currently feeling up.

  It was Reece—­a sleeping, shirtless Reece. I was curled up close against him, and I was in his bed.

  Chapter 18

  If this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up from it. For a lot of reasons, but mainly for the fact there was nothing like waking up next to this man. I’d only gotten to experience it twice before and that was not nearly enough.

  Part of me was so shocked that I’d been in a deep enough sleep that he’d been able to move me without my knowledge. I tried to picture what he’d done when he returned home. Obviously he’d undressed first, and I could tell he had pajama bottoms on, because I could feel the soft, worn cotton against my bare legs. He must’ve scooped me up and carried me into his bedroom. I didn’t know if he’d placed me as close to him as I was or if I’d snuggled up to him. Either way, there wasn’t any space between us, and his hand rested on my hip.

  My heart ached, and as I lay there, listening to the soft snore, I realized how badly I wanted this. Not just with anyone, but with him. Despite the messy past between us, and everything that needed to be spoken, he . . . he was still taking care of me.

  That spoke of the kind of man he was. Decent and kind to his very core, and there were so very few men like that.

  And Reece truly was a beautiful man.

  Features relaxed in sleep, there was an openness about him that was rarely seen when awake. There was always an aura of concentrated power, and it was there even while he slept. I didn’t think it was because he was a cop. It was just something innate in him, like a second skin.

  Full, well-­formed lips parted, I resisted the urge to run my thumb over his lower lip. It was even harder to deny the need to kiss him, because I really wanted to feel those lips against mine again.

  His skin was warm and smooth under my hand, and I knew I needed to get my butt out of this bed before I did something wholly inappropriate, like slip my hand down under the band of his pajama bottoms.

  Carefully, I eased away from him, and rose from the bed. Finding my sweater on the edge, I slipped it on and tugged it close, immediately missing the warmth of his body. Not wanting to wake him since it was still early and he couldn’t have been asleep that long, I crept out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me.

  The apartment was tomb silent as I walked back out to the living room. Remembering he had a balcony, I opened the French doors and stepped outside. I dragged in the late-­morning air and looked around. The balcony faced a wooded area and was rather private.

  Reece gardened.

  Or someone did.

  Flower boxes hung off the wrought-­iron railing, full of pretty pink and purple flowers. There were two green stands, and a bushy fern hung in the corner, out of the sunlight. Two wide wicker chairs were positioned close together.

  I tucked my legs along the side and huddled down in the comfy chair. I couldn’t believe how cool it was. When I really thought about how quickly the seasons changed, it blew the mind.

  My mind wandered as I sat there. I couldn’t remember if I had grabbed my glasses before I’d left my place. Didn’t really matter since I didn’t have my car. I’d have to go back to my place to get it before I headed into work later tonight.

  Back to my place.

  I shivered and it had nothing to do with the cooler temps. I almost couldn’t believe it—­I was being stalked. Freaking stalked. Me. I shook my head slightly. That’s what was happening. I no longer could joke that it was Casper the Pervy Ghost, and barring some kind of memory disorder, it was someone sneaking into my apartment while I was there. Deleting texts while I was in the shower. Taking pictures of me. Out of everything, those were the two creepiest things ever. But even worse was the fact I really had no idea this was what was happening. I couldn’t even begin to imagine that, or who it could be.

  There was Dean, and while he was persistent, he didn’t strike me as a psycho. Unless it was a stranger—­the man responsible for what was happening to the other girls—­who was doing this, and that was even more horrifying. He could be coming in the bar every night for all I knew. I could be talking to him, smiling at him.

  Oh my God, that was horrifying to even imagine. It made me not want to step foot out of my apartment, except my apartment wasn’t even safe. Geez. I squeezed my eyes shut. What was I going to do? I hated the idea of changing my whole life over some freak who was a virtual ghost to me.

  Then again, the ghost of my past had changed my entire life. I did and didn’t do things all because of what happened with Charlie. That was a sobering realization I wasn’t nearly awake enough to really delve into.

  A thought snuck into my head. Maybe it was someone I knew. Not Dean. Not some guy I dated. Maybe it was someone who just recently came back into my life—­an unwanted recent addition.

  Henry Williams.

  The idea didn’t make a lot of sense, but when we were in high school, he was a bit of a creeper. A handsome guy, but a creeper nonetheless. Maybe he wasn’t satisfied with screwing up Charlie’s life. Maybe he wanted to drive me crazy. Honestly, it sounded

  insane—­as insane as someone breaking into my apartment and taking a picture of me.

  I opened my eyes just in time to see a brown bunny rabbit bounce across the lawn below, into the tree line. Well, I guessed it was a rabbit. It was kind of a brown blur. Could’ve been an opossum for all I knew.

  Criminy, I couldn’t believe I was at Reece’s place. I just couldn’t let myself read too much into it. Tucking my hair back, I blew out a tired sigh. Even in the silence, surrounded by bouncing bunnies and pretty flowers, it was hard to really grasp what I felt for Reece. My feelings for him were tangled into a web of our past and our present. Lust cultivated over years and . . .

  I couldn’t even think it.

  Where I could admit I cared for him strongly—­I had for a long time—­love was scary. I learned that with Charlie. I loved that boy more than anything, and seeing him hurt had killed a part of me when I was sixteen and still was killing me. I couldn’t fall for Reece, not fall that deeply. Not when going to work every day could mean he could be harmed or worse. I flinched, but that was the truth. God, these thoughts were freaking pointless, because—­

  The French doors opened and Reece stepped out onto the balcony, his sleepy blue gaze finding me. My tummy tumbled as I drank him in. Goodness, he was cute in the morning. Hair all messy and a shadow of brush along his jaw, he was total pinup material.

  “Hey,” he said, and one side of his lips quirked up in a lopsided grin.

  My own lips responded. It was clear he was still half asleep. “Hey you. I didn’t wake
you, did I?”

  “I don’t think so.” Lifting an arm, he dragged his fingers through his hair. My eyes got hung up on his bicep and the muscles along the side of his chest. I shifted in the chair, surprised that I could be so visibly aroused by a guy scratching his head. He moved to the seat beside me. “I mean, I woke up and you were gone.” He leaned back in the chair, spreading his thighs as he tipped his head toward me. “I was worried when you weren’t there. You okay?”

  My lips parted as his words hummed through me. “Yeah, I just woke up and didn’t want to wake you. You couldn’t have been sleeping for that long.”

  His broad shoulders rose in a lazy roll. “I don’t really sleep that much. Just a ­couple of hours here and there, especially when I’m working.”

  I thought about the night on the couch where it had seemed like a nightmare had shaken him awake. “You have to be so tired, though.”

  Casting the heavy-hooded eyes to me, he shrugged again. “It’s the same with you, babe. You work crazy-­ass hours just like me. You manage. I manage.”

  “True,” I murmured, looking out over the lawn. “I like this—­the balcony, I mean.” Flushing, I mentally kicked myself. “It’s very private and quiet.”

  “I like it, too. Try to come out here at least once a day, drink my coffee.” Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him raise his arms above his head and stretch. I had to look. I was only human, and goodness gracious, I was so glad I did. His back bowed as bones cracked. The man was pure sin. “It’s a good place to think,” he finished, dropping his arms.

  My gaze coasted over the expanse of his chest and taut stomach, down to the fine trail of darker hair that disappeared under the band of his bottoms. “I can . . . um, understand that.”

  There was a pause. “I talked to Colton this morning. He’s going to come by soon. I’ll be here while he talks to you.”

  A shiver crawled along the nape of my neck, and I pulled the sweater closer. I nodded. “Does he know what happened?”

  “Yes.”

  I watched a bird flutter past the balcony. “Does he think it’s related to the other stuff?”