Stolen in Love

by G. G. Andrew

  Kim leaned down and took one of her hands. “You do, Lily,” she whispered. “You’re doing such a good job. You just need to be quiet a little longer.” She exchanged glances with Bette. “We’re going to go into the closet and play a little game, okay? It’s a princess game. Remember how I’m your guard in the castle? Let’s play that again. We’ll all go in together, and I’ll protect you.” She ushered the two of them into a nearby closet.

  She could tell the girl knew it wasn’t all pretend, but she was putting up a brave front. Inside the closet, it was all black, but Kim shut the door slowly behind them. Bette was in back with her arms around Lily, and Kim stood in front of them, the Taser in her hand.

  “Where’s Daddy?” Lily whispered.

  “He’ll be here soon,” Kim whispered back. “Let’s be quiet until he gets here.”

  Their ragged breaths in the small, warm space were almost deafening, but outside the world seemed quiet.

  Where was Scott? What was he doing?

  Would he see Viktor before Viktor saw him?

  Then came a faint screech. A door slammed.

  Bette inhaled sharply. “The back door.”

  Footsteps thudded in the house and then out back, followed by a single shout. Scott’s.

  Then gunshots ripped through the spring air outside. One big burst, followed by two short ones. The three of them flinched at every one like they’d been hit.

  Kim gasped and gripped the Taser, her hand growing clammy.

  Please God please God please God…

  The springtime silence that descended was almost more than she could take. She couldn’t hear anything that indicated what was happening—or maybe it was just hard to hear over the hammering of her heart.

  “What…” Bette whispered.

  Kim shook her head in the dark. “I don’t know.”

  Footsteps stomped on the stairs.

  Someone was coming up.

  It could’ve been Scott—it sounded like Scott—but Kim’s body trembled with uncertainty.

  At the top of the stairs, the footsteps stopped. Then they receded, like someone was walking to the other end of the hall.

  “Stay here,” she whispered. “Stay hidden.”

  She slipped out of the closet and, holding the Taser tight, pressed her back to the wall. Every step was torture.

  She made it to the threshold as she saw him turning around.

  “Scott!” she cried. She dropped the Taser.

  He was breathing hard, almost too hard to speak, his eyes unfocused.

  She rushed to him.

  “I shot him,” he said between breaths. “He took a shot at me and missed, and I shot back to incapacitate him. I’m not sure how badly he’s hurt, but he isn’t moving. Backup’s coming.”

  Sure enough, she heard the sirens now, growing louder with each second. They were close. Had she missed them before in her terror?

  He was in shock, but he blinked his eyes and looked at her, and something cleared in his vision. “Kim,” he said, and they collapsed into each other, Scott’s powerful arms enclosing her as they both shook.

  Even after all that had happened, his warm, strong embrace made her feel protected—made her feel that, somehow, things would finally be okay.

  “Is it safe?” Bette called.

  “Yes,” Scott said. “It’s safe.”

  Kim broke the hug and turned to see the older woman and Lily emerge from the closet, their faces pale.

  “Daddy!” the girl cried as she ran to him.

  He dropped to one knee. Right before he caught her, his voice cracked as he said, “Come here, Lily bird.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Carter

  Carter entered the back of Hot Haven to find Boyd Martin against the wall in handcuffs, with a bloody face and a ballet dancer wedged in his eye. She’d expected some of that after what Scott had said, but the rest was definitely a first in her work as a law enforcement agent.

  He was alive, but in bad shape. The paramedics pulled in the back and were putting him on a gurney. He’d probably need surgery, but he was somewhat conscious, and she planned to question him on the way to the hospital. What was that saying? Strike when the iron is hot.

  By all accounts, Boyd was the mastermind behind this, and Viktor Antonovich his right hand man. But if Hutch was correct, Boyd had other friends who had known what was going on. She’d love to bring them in, too. The only thing better than arresting one man who targeted women was arresting two, and the only thing better than arresting two was arresting five.

  Half a dozen officers were combing the property, looking for clues in the case against Hot Haven’s manager. She’d take all she could get, though from what she was hearing over the radio, the suspect had kidnapped, threatened, and tried to blackmail an officer on top of his other crimes. He was probably going to be put away for a while.

  As the paramedics strapped him to the stretcher, she mused on how quickly her day had turned. She wanted to say it had all shifted when Hutch had uttered Boyd’s name, but if she were an honest woman, it was when she’d answered the phone at her desk and heard his low, gravelly voice in her ear.

  “Hello, Detective. Remember me?”

  Oh, yes, she did—though she wasn’t about to admit it to his face.

  She had no problem fantasizing about those rough, muscled men in the movies who talked dirty and smoked things they shouldn’t, but fantasizing about one who was a notorious criminal in her city? Whom she’d let kiss her while undercover? And accepted a date from?

  Jay Hutcherson may not have called their little meeting a date, but she sure as hell knew it was a close cousin. He’d invited her to a restaurant. He’d bought her pie. He’d asked her to sit on his face. Going to her brother’s wedding with her last boyfriend hadn’t been half as exciting.

  As much as she’d tried to rebuff him, he’d made it known that he had her number. He was giving off vibes that he could tell just how much she wanted his dirty mouth back on her lips, that strong heat against her body. The man had such nice, big hands.

  Though it was hard to imagine that being with any man could be as satisfying as this work she did.

  As they wheeled Boyd’s stretcher onto the ambulance, she leaned over him and said, “Boyd Martin, you have the right to remain silent.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Scott

  When backup came, an ambulance arrived too, and Scott sent Kim on it. They were all in shock, but she was the one he was the most worried about. The interaction with Boyd at Hot Haven had been so chaotic—who knew if she’d been hurt without realizing it? He didn’t want to take any chances.

  And she was pregnant.

  He called Diane Xavier, and she followed the ambulance to the hospital while he stayed to answer the necessary questions. He kept his phone on him. He knew he had to debrief, especially since Viktor was in critical condition and could die. But every cell in his body wanted to clutch his daughter to him and race to the hospital to be with Kim.

  Bette held Lily tight on the couch, and neighbors brought over food, and they ate cookies for dinner. As dusk fell, he got word that Kim was alright and she was coming back, and some of the tension left his body. He’d been an officer for years, but he’d been in few shoot-outs, and only one that threatened people he loved.

  He was going over more questions in the front yard when Kim came back. She’d come from the direction of the Xaviers’ house and looked freshly showered, wearing yoga pants, a hot pink shirt, and sandals. He broke off when he saw her, but Lily was the one who ran for her.

  “Kim, I want you to be my guard in my room while Daddy’s my guard out here.” Lily was sucking her thumb, and Scott knew she was frightened.

  “Okay,” Kim said, fatigue in every note of her voice. She looked up at him, and he nodded.

  After she tucked Lily in, he waited for Kim to come out while he wrapped up with the other officers. There’d be more questions tomorrow, and paperwork. But for now, all he wa
nted was a shower and to make sure his girls were okay.

  He told Bette to tell Kim to wait for him when she came out while he washed up and dressed, but when he emerged from the bathroom in shorts and a ratty white shirt, she was still in Lily’s room.

  “They’re probably asleep,” Bette said, nursing her eighth cup of tea.

  “You’re probably right.”

  Quietly, he peeked into Lily’s room. Sure enough, they were both passed out in Lily’s narrow twin bed, Kim’s arms wrapped around his daughter. He was reminded of that night when he and Kim first kissed. Had it been just under a month ago?

  The hallway cast a slant of light across Lily’s bed, and Kim stirred—then sat up with a start.

  “Everything’s okay,” he whispered quickly. “Just checking on you guys.”

  Gingerly, she moved off Lily’s bed, retucking the blankets around her. She tiptoed to him, blinking as she entered the bright hallway.

  “What time is it?”

  “Late.”

  She had an imprint on her cheek from sleeping against a wrinkled sheet, and he almost smoothed it with his hands, but he suddenly felt shy. He didn’t know where they stood. They’d embraced after he shot Viktor, but any two people might’ve done the same after such a brush with danger.

  Her brown eyes opened wider as they adjusted to the light. “Hi,” she said.

  He smiled. “Hi.”

  He knew she cared, but he didn’t know if she wanted to be with him anymore, even after all that had happened. The past few weeks he’d been running both hot and cold, wanting her with his body and pushing her away with his mind. Bette was right; she could find better than that.

  Boyd had said she was in love with him. Was that true? For his part, he wanted her more than ever. If he hadn’t already known it, the confrontation with Boyd would’ve shown him how much he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.

  Bette approached them. “I’ll stay in Lily’s room,” she said, waving them away. “You two talk.”

  Before she disappeared into the bedroom, Scott grabbed Bette and hugged her tight. Neither said a word; they didn’t need to. The older woman gave him a tired smile as he pulled away, and disappeared to look over her granddaughter.

  Butterflies jumping in his gut, he walked with Kim out to the living room and sat on the couch.

  “Kim—” he began.

  “Wait.” She held up her hand. “I need to say I’m sorry. I suspected it was Boyd earlier today and I went to the station to find you. I could’ve told the other cops, but I wasn’t sure.”

  “Hey,” he said, moving closer to her. “It’s not your fault. You weren’t the one waving the gun around in this scenario.”

  Kim bit her lip and shook her head. “When I thought that he might have hurt you…” Her eyes grew wet, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her.

  She let him.

  “I know,” he said, smoothing her hair. “I wouldn’t have let him tie me up if I hadn’t been so out of my mind with the thought that he’d do something to you.” He sighed. “He was so damn wrong about me. I would’ve done anything he asked to keep you safe. Today, and for as long as it took.”

  She sighed. “I know it’s hard to be with me. Shit, some days it’s hard to be me. But I’m trying to overcome my addiction, I’m really trying. Especially now.”

  “I know.” He chuckled. “And the next time you feel the urge to steal something from Taylor Stiles, go right ahead. You never know when it might come in handy.”

  She smiled, but then her face grew serious. “Scott, why’d you go to Hot Haven?”

  He pulled away and cupped her face so he could look into her eyes. His heart beat furiously, but he had to say it. She had to know. “To find you. To tell you I can’t live without you. I love you, Kimberly. I don’t care what he dumped on that floor or what you’ve got under your bed. I was wrong to jerk you around so much these past few weeks. I just want to be with you. Final answer.”

  She hiccupped a laugh, her smile making her brown eyes dance.

  “I freaked out,” he said. “You’re so bright and complex—so different than any woman I’ve ever been with. I didn’t know how to deal with it. And I think partly I was afraid you’d leave me, like Alexa did.”

  “Oh, Scott.” She placed her hands over his, rubbing his arms gently. “I’d never leave you. You’re really, really hot.”

  He laughed, and then he kissed her. The kiss was sweet and soft, a coming together after a long day, but it held an undertow of desire that swallowed his entire body. He would never get enough of Kim Xavier.

  She broke the kiss, but kept her face close, their foreheads touching. “I meant to say I love you too,” she whispered.

  “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  He exhaled. “You’re really pregnant?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it’s m—”

  “Yes.”

  He moved away, getting on the floor in front of the couch. Her eyes were shining. He took her hands. “If that’s the case, then will you—”

  “Yes,” she said, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I will.”

  He hadn’t intended that, but some of Kim’s spontaneity must’ve rubbed off on him, because he’d done it and now he felt happier than he’d been in years. He crawled back on the couch, pulled her onto his lap, and they kissed again.

  When their kisses finally slowed at that late hour, a smile still played on her lips—that soft, sexy-as-hell mouth he’d never tire of. “You know how I can trust that you’ll stay?” she asked.

  “How?”

  She took his hand and put it on her lower stomach. “Because I’ve got something of yours. And I’m not giving it back.”

  The End

  THANK YOU FOR READING!

  Thank you for reading Stolen in Love.

  Want to find out what happens next in the Love and Lawbreakers series? Sign up for my mailing list! The next book will be coming out in 2018, and my mailing list subscribers will be the first to hear about its release—not to mention the first to see the cover, read exclusive excerpts, and learn about sales. Plus, I give my awesome mailing list free stories and extra scenes you can’t find anywhere else!

  If you have the chance, please consider leaving an honest review of Stolen in Love. Reviews help authors get noticed in the crowded book world—and help other readers decide if a story is right for them.

  If you haven’t already read it, you can see how Kim and Scott first met, and Laurel and Jamie fell in love, in Graffiti in Love, available in ebook now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from my novella Somewhere Warm.

  SOMEWHERE WARM: A NEW YEAR’S EVE SHORT ROMANCE

  What if you fell for your best friend’s ex—the one that had made her life a living hell?

  All Zoe had to do was pick up a box of her best friend Haley’s things from her awful ex-husband, Evan.

  She didn’t expect her car to get hit by a snowplow. She didn’t expect for the Maine snowstorm to

  start early. She didn’t expect to be stuck inside Evan’s cabin—alone with him—on New Year’s Eve.

  And, most of all, she didn’t expect to come undone by the heat in Evan’s eyes.

  Turn the page to start reading…

  New Year’s Eve

  Before I met Evan, I hated him. I even hated the mat on his doorstep. Hunters welcome, it said as I stood stomping and shivering at his front door. All others may be shot.

  So he was just like my best friend Haley described him: stubborn, isolated. Hostile.

  And taking his sweet time. It was a full minute between my knock and when he finally opened the door. A full minute to measure the extent of my loyalty to Haley against the growing numbness of my body as the last big snowstorm before the New Year started out here in the Maine wilderness.

  A full minute to listen to the irritating sounds of the snowplow on this rural lane backing up and beeping, the
n roaring as it pushed old snow into a giant pile on the corner.

  Beep beep beep. The snowplow paused. Then it rushed forward to shove the snow, the driver gunning the engine. Roar!

  Why did the plow guy bother, anyway? There would be more snow coming, several feet of it later tonight if the forecast was correct, and nobody wanted to be out here when it hit. I know I didn’t.

  Finally, the door opened into the dark interior of his cabin. The man I presumed to be Evan stood there dressed in a navy flannel shirt and wiping his hands on a rag.

  “Can I help you?” he said in a gruff voice with a touch of Boston to it. There was a catch at the end.

  Beep beep.

  He knew who I was. I saw his forearms tighten below where he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves.

  Roar!

  “I’m Zoe. I'm here for Haley. To get her box of things.” I wasn't going to offer any more words than necessary to this man with the tense jaw and unfriendly dark brown eyes. He'd given my best friend a miserable marriage and didn't deserve any further explanation.

  “Fine. Hold on.” He turned around and lumbered off, leaving the door ajar. I looked inside to see the dark shapes of furniture and hear the crackle of a roaring fire. Then I averted my eyes. I didn't care to see how this asshole was going to spend his New Year’s Eve.

  I stepped back from his house as I waited, admiring the pretty swirls of snowflakes in the white sky, the hush of the air between snowplow beeps, and the snow-dusted pine trees. This was my last errand before our New Year’s Eve party and I would be driving back soon to beat the storm. Destination: Haley’s cozy apartment, complete with plenty of cranberry and vodka, five kinds of gourmet cheese, and a dozen drunk friends.