Dragon Fever: Limited Edition Holiday Romance Boxset

by Serena Meadows

  Yet, she couldn’t while she had the twins in the vehicle. Taylor knew Ted would let her, as they had been casual friends for years. I’ll drop the girls at Mom’s, then run back. I can be home before Craig gets there. She was not really knowing why she needed to see what had happened that night, as she didn’t doubt Kane’s word.

  Taylor knew more had happened than he simply interfered with men trying to kidnap her from the place.

  Jackie emerged to help her carry the still-sleeping toddlers into the house. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, well, I don’t know,” Taylor replied, Lila conked out on her shoulder. “I want to go look at the tapes from that night at Teddy’s.”

  Jackie didn’t speak again until after they settled the twins onto the bed in the spare bedroom. She closed the door and stepped down the hall with Taylor before asking, “Why? I know something is up. I see it in your face.”

  Taylor hesitated. “That guy who saved me?”

  Jackie nodded; her eyes hard on Taylor’s.

  “I’ve been sorta seeing him. No sex,” she added hastily at Jackie’s frown. “Today, we took Megan and Lila to the park. Mom, he saved both of them from loose dogs.”

  “My God.”

  Jackie sagged into a chair in the living room. “What happened?”

  Taylor explained as best she could—Kane’s incredible speed, the roar he made, the terror he inflicted on the mutts. “It was so weird. And yet, Mom, he is the sweetest, gentlest of men. I really need to see what happened at the bar.”

  “Yeah, I see why.” Jackie waved. “Go. They’ll be fine here.”

  Taylor hugged her. “Thanks. I’ll be back soon.”

  Returning to the minivan, Taylor drove back to Teddy’s, wondering if she was in her right mind to want to truly know what had gone on. She trusted Kane, but she speculated—what if he had lied and there were no three men who planned to seize her, and possibly rape her. But why?

  At that hour, the bar had a few patrons, and Teddy manned the drinks with the help of a single waitress. He greeted her with a wary smile as she sat on a stool.

  “I hope you’re not gonna pull another bender, Taylor,” he said. “I hated seeing you like that. I really did.”

  “No, Ted, I’m not.” Taylor glanced around, seeing no one near enough to listen. “Look, something happened that night, Ted. Can I look at the security footage?”

  Ted frowned. “I didn’t see anything. What are you talking about?”

  “Do you remember seeing a big blond guy? Maybe confronted three dudes?”

  “Yeah. But there was no altercation. The guys left, then you did.”

  “No. Something happened. Please.”

  “Sure, why not? You got my curiosity up.”

  Ted beckoned for the waitress to tend the bar, then jerked his head for Taylor to follow him. He led her to his office, where several screens displayed different camera angles of the bar as well as outside it. He pushed some buttons and rewound the one that actually faced the area where Taylor had sat that night.

  “Okay,” he said, hitching his hip against his desk. “This is it. And there you are.”

  Nervous in the pit of her stomach, Taylor watched herself dancing to the music, then swaying, drunk off her ass, while sitting on the barstool. Ted pointed at the screen, at men seated at a table, and his voice dropped. “Shit. Those guys were watching you for a while. Taylor, I swear I never saw that.”

  “It’s cool, Ted.”

  Ted rubbed his hand over his face as the three guys got up and made their way toward her. Holding her breath, Taylor watched as Kane also got up from a table where she hadn’t seen him. He intercepted the men and put his arm over her shoulder, evidently talking to them.

  “Holy shit.”

  Taylor glanced at Ted’s stunned expression, then looked back at the footage. Kane had now planted himself between Taylor and the men. One took a swing at him. Like a professional fighter, Kane caught the fist, calm and cool as though he were having a pleasant conversation rather than protecting her from rapists.

  The man went to his knees, his expression a mask of extreme pain, and the body language of his friends clearly showed fear. Kane let him go, then the two helped the third up to rush from the bar. After watching them go, Kane put Taylor’s arm over his shoulder and took her out.

  “Taylor.”

  Ted’s voice, low and horrified, brought her attention up from the rest of the footage. “Oh, man, honey, I should have been keeping a better eye on you.”

  He took her hand. “I am so sorry. If that guy hadn’t stopped them—”

  “I know.” Taylor tried to smile while feeling sick to her stomach. “He took me to his hotel, where I slept in safety. He bought me breakfast the next morning.”

  Ted suddenly pulled her to him in a hug. “I am so very glad he was there to protect you when I wasn’t.”

  Taylor kissed his cheek before pulling away while holding his hands. “Thanks, Ted. Maybe one day I’ll bring him by to meet you. He and I, well, we’re friends.”

  But Ted didn’t smile back. “Don’t let Craig know.”

  “He won’t find out.”

  Megan and Lila were awake and being fed their lunch when Taylor entered Jackie’s house. Giggling and talking, they sat in high chairs with their small faces covered in peanut butter, grape jelly, and bread crumbs. Smiling at the comical sight, she kissed them each on their foreheads as Jackie leaned against the counter.

  “You found something?”

  Taylor nodded and gestured for Jackie to follow her out of the kitchen. “Kane didn’t lie,” she said, her voice low. “He really and truly saved me.”

  “What happened?”

  Taylor shot a glance at the girls, too busy picking up pieces of sandwich to put in their mouths and talking in their two-year-old special language to notice they were gone. “Mom, one of the guys tried to hit him,” she went on, “Kane caught his fist and crushed it.”

  Jackie’s eyes widened. “That’s impossible.”

  “You won’t think so when you see him.”

  “So, he’s well and truly a hero,” Jackie admitted. “What if Craig finds out about him?”

  “He won’t. I’ll have to make sure of that.”

  Jackie’s expression altered into a thoughtful frown. “What does this Kane look like?”

  “Thor.”

  “I need to show you something. What you said made me remember seeing this video.”

  Puzzled, Taylor followed her back into the kitchen where the twins still chattered, tearing their sandwiches to pieces before eating them. Jackie picked up her phone and clicked for a few minutes, still wearing her thoughtful expression.

  “This has gone viral,” she said. “It happened here in Portland, which is why it caught my attention. Look at this video. Is this your friend?”

  Taylor took her cell to watch a video unfold. A man in what appeared to be a Walmart striking a woman, and then she gasped. Kane strode into view, and literally picked the guy up and shook him like a rat. “That’s Kane.”

  “I guess he’s busy saving other women from abusive males,” Jackie commented dryly.

  Taylor watched to the finish when Kane strode from the camera’s view, then looked at her mother. “Send this to me? Not my regular phone, to the secret one.”

  “All right. After seeing that, I guess I can believe he crushed a man’s fist with one hand.”

  “Nor does he approve of men hitting women.”

  “Pity we can’t sic your friend on Craig.” Jackie folded her arms over her bosom. “There wouldn’t be much left of him.”

  “And Kane would be in jail. I can’t let that happen.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Look, I better get the girls home before Craig gets there. He’s getting testy about how much time they spend with you.”

  “They aren’t even his kids.”

  Taylor didn’t argue, but she and Jackie washed sticky faces and hands and bundled
them into their car seats. “Thanks for everything, Mom,” Taylor said, hugging Jackie. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Yes, call me later.” Jackie waved to the girls through the window as Taylor got in behind the wheel and started the engine. “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  She drove toward home, navigating the streets and traffic without hardly seeing anything, half-listening to the chatter from behind her. Kane broke a man’s hand protecting me. He saved my children. A video of him stopping a man from abusing a woman went viral. Who is this guy?

  Taylor came to no conclusions by the time she pulled the van into her driveway. Craig’s car wasn’t there, indicating he probably went drinking when his shift was over. The temptation to grab clothes, her secret phone, and run occurred to her. Maybe it’s time.

  Her left arm offered her a reminder of his capabilities when intoxicated as she unbuckled Megan and Lila from their car seats to let them climb out of the Honda. She closed it, locking it with the remote, then let the kids into the house. The place had that deserted silence that informed her Craig had not yet gotten home.

  “Go to your room and play, babies,” she said, locking the front door, too.

  Giggling with small shrieks, the twins obeyed, running to their bedroom where they kept their toys. Taylor walked into the kitchen, still thinking of making her escape from Craig soon. I have enough to make a new start—

  Taylor abruptly halted her forward motion and her thoughts.

  Sitting at the kitchen table, drunk, a bottle of Scotch and a nearly full glass of golden liquid in front of him, Craig stared. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  Cautious, the hairs on her neck rising, Taylor recognized the look in his bloodshot eyes. The mean, dark, brooding expression that meant trouble for her, and she set her purse down on the counter, not taking her eyes off of him. He still wore his uniform but had removed his service belt with his weapons of choice.

  “You’re home early.”

  “I been suspended.” His words slurred; Craig took another drink from his glass. “Pending invest-inves-tigation.”

  “Oh. Are you hungry? I’ll fix you something.”

  She turned her back on him, tense, braced for trouble, to take bread and the makings of a sandwich for him from the refrigerator. Hearing the chair scrape across the floor, Taylor hoped he merely set it back so he could stretch his legs under the table.

  Her gut knew that was not what he did.

  His steps seemed loud in the kitchen’s quiet, the twin’s chatter from their room very far away. Taylor licked her lips, knowing that this time it would be bad. Very bad. Suspension was the first step to being fired, and Craig now had little to lose.

  His sour breath brushed her cheek.

  “Bitch.”

  Chapter Ten

  It was all her fault.

  In his hazy brain, Craig knew Taylor secretly laughed at him. She had gone to Johnson behind his back and told that worthless asshole to fire him. Sure, she did. He had been told to leave the substation at nine that morning and came home to find the bitch gone.

  Of course, she had been to see Johnson. None of his brother officers looked at him, or spoke to him, as he gathered his possessions from his desk. He walked out the door furious, scared, needing a drink badly. Stopping at a liquor store on his way home, Craig twisted the cap off in his car, and drank straight from the neck as he drove.

  Now Taylor had come home and wanted to fix him lunch. How sweet. What an obedient little wifey.

  “Bitch.”

  Taylor spun around; her eyes wide. But deep in them, Craig saw her triumph, not her fear. And it was her fear he craved. This time, she would be on her knees begging for mercy. After he hurt her, he would hurt those snotty little kids. He planned to shut them up so their crying never woke him up again.

  “Craig, don’t,” Taylor said, but in his ears, it was a demand, not a plea.

  “I’m gonna teach you a lesson,” Craig told her, reaching into his pocket. “Then I’m gonna shut those kids up.”

  Taylor’s eyes all but bugged from her head. “No,” she shrieked. “Hurt me, but you don’t touch my girls.”

  Craig pulled the switchblade from his trouser pocket and pushed the button. Six inches of very illegal, razor-sharp blade snapped out. Taylor glanced down at it, then her green eyes narrowed. Her lips thinned in defiance.

  Craig lifted the knife—

  And felt her knee slam into his crotch. Agonizing fire exploded through his groin and lower belly. Choking, gasping, Craig dropped the blade, and dimly heard Taylor kick it across the floor. She was screaming, unintelligible words that he could not comprehend through the terrible pain lashing him in sickening waves.

  He bent over, cupping his throbbing balls, feeling as though he were about to hurl all the Scotch he had drunk. Taylor kicked his knee out from under him, still yelling to raise the dead, and punched him square in the nose. Falling to the kitchen floor, Craig half curled into a ball.

  Expecting her to continue to kick him, he felt a vague surprise, and gratitude, when she did not. Still clutching himself, his knee on fire, bleeding from his nose, Craig lay on the floor suffering as Taylor left the kitchen. He knew she called for her daughters, and he caught a rapid glimpse of Taylor taking a suitcase from the closet.

  She was leaving him.

  “No,” he croaked. “Bitch.”

  He had no idea how long it took him to get to his feet and stagger after her, but it must have been several minutes. Taylor herded the twins from their room, and Craig made what he thought was a swift move to grab the nearest.

  Instantly, he felt the jolt of electricity shatter his wits, send all his muscle control into outer space. Jittering in place for what seemed like hours, he crashed to the floor again, dazed, unable to move. Blinded, deafened, Craig drifted on a tide of utter and total weakness. He couldn’t feel the floor under him, but somehow, he knew he lay on it.

  Slowly, gradually, his wits returned, along with the throbbing in his balls. He groaned, trying unsuccessfully to sit up when he heard male voices enter the house. Heavy feet paced toward him as he lay there, observing black shoes and dark blue trousers. Following the legs upward, Craig finally stared up at Officers Harrison and Adams.

  “What the hell happened here?”

  “She—attacked me.”

  Craig rolled over on his belly, finally working his way to his feet. He leaned against the kitchen counter, gasping, seeing Adams amble around the kitchen. Craig’s hate for him rose as Adams studied the Scotch bottle and glass, then paced slowly to the switchblade lying on the floor.

  As his partner weighed the evidence, Harrison obviously weighed him.

  “Let me guess,” Harrison said slowly. “You came home, got drunk. Then you went for your girlfriend with that blade. And she cleaned your clock.”

  “Taser on the floor over here,” Adams said to Craig’s left.

  “My, my.” Harrison rocked back on his heels. “The neighbors reported a woman screaming in this house, called nine-one-one. We find your lady gone and all kinds of evidence of the self-defense.”

  “She tried to kill me. Course I defended myself.”

  “Oh, no. I mean, she defended herself against you.”

  Harrison tapped Craig’s chest with his finger, a hateful, contemptuous gesture. But there was little Craig could do about it. “You have a history of abusing her. Your story of her attacking you will go over like a fart in church. You’re currently suspended for excessive use of force. What sent her over the edge, Westerman? Did you threaten her kids?”

  Craig tried to hide his expression, to avert his eyes before Harrison read the truth in them. By the way Harrison’s face cleared, his eyes widening, Craig knew he was unsuccessful.

  “You did,” Harrison whispered. “You threatened her kids. You motherfucker.”

  “We don’t have enough to arrest him,” Adams commented, striding back. “But let’s take a shit load of pictures. When we find the girlfrie
nd, we’ll get her statement.”

  Adams leaned close to Craig’s face, his eyes intent, feral. “And we will find her, buddy. That I promise you. And if her story says you aimed to use that blade on her, and her kids, we’ll be coming for you.”

  Grilled as intensely as any suspect, Craig lied, but in his drunken state, with his wits recently shot to the four winds by the Taser, he knew he didn’t stick to his story. He thought he did, but the thin grimace of disgust on Harrison’s face told him he had wandered on details. Fuck, I can’t remember what I just told him.

  Adams dusted for prints, took photos of everything, reported that it looked like the girlfriend left in a hurry. “Of course, she did,” Craig snapped. “She tried to kill me.”

  “With what?” Harrison asked patiently.

  He and Harrison sat at the kitchen table as though they occupied an interrogation room, the Scotch primly set off to one side.

  Craig pointed to the knife. “With that.”

  Then he realized his two critical mistakes—Taylor’s fingerprints would not be on it, only his. And he had previously stated that she tried to kill him with the Taser. “I mean, after she Tased me, she grabbed the knife to stab me.”

  “Sure,” Harrison replied comfortably. “And you fought her off while under the effects of a Taser, and drunk, and your balls busted.”

  “Yeah.”

  Harrison glanced at Adams, who used a pen to roll the knife from side to side in order to dust it. “I’ve heard better stories from whores downtown who try to tell me their johns were Superman or Tarzan.”

  “Remember the one who said she gave the president a blowjob?”

  “Yeah, I should have written that one up for Playboy Magazine.”

  Craig wanted to lay his head on the table and close his eyes. “You guys think you’re fucking comedians.”