Making Home with You

by Claire Raye

  Andrew doesn’t want Steve, he wants me, and when he finally appears in the vestibule, the elevator doors closing, he fires a few shots at the metal door before he turns to chase me into the stairwell.

  The parking garage is on the fourth floor and the last place I want to go is up, so I head down, hoping Steve is with it enough to have called the police or at least get outside of the building before Andrew and I reach the lobby.

  The gun goes off again, Andrew firing aimlessly into the stairwell hoping he’ll hit me, but each shot misses and I keep track of each bullet he’s fired.

  We’re at eight, and he’s carrying a Glock 22, which means if it’s fully loaded he has seven bullets left. I just need him to waste those before we reach the lobby, because once we’re together and he’s without a gun, it’s on.

  My adrenaline is surging as I call out his name, taunting him to come after me, and I strike the metal handrail with my shoe making a loud banging noise.

  And just as I suspected, Andrew is a fool, and he fires again, the bullet pinging off the metal casing around the window.

  I can hear the police sirens ringing out above the noise of the busy streets of Boston, but that doesn’t stop me, because until Andrew is in handcuffs, I’m not safe.

  I push the door to the third floor open, holding it until I hear Andrew’s feet pound the stairs above me, and then I let it go. Moving quickly but quietly, I make for the stairs to the second floor.

  The gun goes off just as the door to the third floor closes, three quick blasts; loud and jarring, and my ears ring incessantly, nearly making me lose my footing on the stairs.

  “You missed me!” I yell and he screams out a curse, slamming his hand into the metal security door on the third floor. I need him to know I didn’t go through that door, and if I’m right, he’s an idiot and will fall for the same trick on the second floor.

  Again I hold the door open, waiting for his feet to pound against the concrete stairs and when I hear, I let go of the door, but this time, I don’t try to run away.

  I’m poised on the landing between the first and second floor waiting, because he thinks he’s smarter than me, because he thinks he knows my plan, he fires at the door, and then rushes through it.

  He’s certain I went I through the door this time, and he rushes into the hallway finding it empty, but hearing my voice call his name.

  “Andrew!” I call, loud enough that he can hear me through the cinderblock walls and metal doors, and I hear him shove the door open, again screaming out a muffled swear.

  “Come and get me, you stupid fucker!”

  I’m taunting him, and I realize how stupid it is, but I need him to use that last bullet. He’s not counting but I am. He only has one left and I have two more floors. I need him to fire at me. I need him to waste that last one, because I can’t reach that lobby and risk him shooting at Steve or someone walking by the building or an innocent person who happens to be there.

  I know I’m putting myself in extreme danger. I realize he might have another magazine. Hell, he could even hit me with the one bullet he has left, but I’m throwing everything into the fact that he’s not that bright, and he and his plan are fucked.

  He’s lost his wife, he shot an unarmed security guard, he’s about to lose his job, and it’s obvious that he’s paid people off to keep them quiet.

  He’s not thinking clearly. Rage fueled this rampage he’s on, and rage is about to bring him down.

  I haven’t moved from the landing, my feet firmly planted despite my mind telling me to get the fuck out of there. And that’s when Andrew appears, bloodied, red-faced and sweaty, looking down on me from the stairway above.

  I can practically feel the anger radiating from his body, his teeth bared and he roars at me, deep and guttural. With his feet planted wide and his hands shaking, he drags one hand across his hair and laughs like he’s caught me.

  “You fucking cunt!” he stammers, a shaky finger jutting out in my direction.

  And if I were a betting woman, I could’ve netted myself a ton of money today, because Andrew does exactly what I hoped and he shoots the last bullet at me.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Finn

  The car on the drive to Boston is filled with a tense silence. I’m too afraid to say anything, to give voice to my fears about what might have happened to Sarah or to question the last thing Ryan said to me as we drove out of Rockport.

  I don’t want to question if he really meant it, let alone think about all the things that might have happened to the woman I now know I’ve totally fallen for.

  About ten minutes out, Ryan’s phone rings, the sound cutting through the car. He answers immediately, his terse “Joe, what’s happening?” filling the car.

  “I’m at her building,” he says, his voice coming through the speakers. “I haven’t been able to get hold of her either and the desk guard says she isn’t answering her office phone.”

  “Fuck,” Ryan says shooting me a quick look. “We’re almost there.”

  He hangs up before Joe can say anything more and a small part of me wonders if this is what it was like when Joe worked for Ryan. I’m not sure how much I could put up with that, but then a part of me also recognizes that I work exactly the same way.

  After what feels like the longest five minutes of my life, we finally reach Sarah’s building. Ryan parks illegally out the front, then both of us are out of the car and running into the lobby.

  Joe is impatiently waiting for us, two uniformed officers standing behind him, hands on their hips as they watch him try to call Sarah again for what appears to be the hundredth time. Before any of us can say anything though, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot rings out.

  “Fuck,” Joe, Ryan and I all say at once, as all five of us now run toward the stairwell beside the elevators.

  “It definitely came from above,” Joe shouts, ignoring the rent-a-cop from the front desk who comes wobbling over demanding to see some identification.

  I burst through the door to the stairwell, quickly followed by Joe and Ryan. All three of us climbing the stairs, but halt on the landing below when we see Sarah, face to face with a man who looks like he has completely lost his shit.

  “Jesus Christ,” Joe whispers. “It’s her fucking boss. What the fuck is he doing here?”

  “What?” I ask, my head snapping up.

  “Didn’t she tell you?” he asks, meeting my stare.

  I shake my head, unsure what he’s referring to. Sure, I knew her boss was a dick, slimy with the words and a little too over-familiar. But as much as I’d hated that, Sarah had assured me he was harmless, nothing worse than the drunken idiots she’d had to deal with while working in the bar.

  Now it’s Joe shaking his head, glancing at Ryan whose face looks like stone.

  “Don’t tell me you knew?” I bite out.

  Ryan swallows hard, nodding once as though he knows this is going to monumentally piss me off. And he’s right too, but before I have a chance to rip him a new one, we’re distracted by a male voice on the stairs above, neither Sarah nor her boss seemingly aware that we’re down here watching them.

  “I’m going to fucking destroy you,” he says to her, spit flying from his mouth as he takes a step toward her.

  I watch as Sarah drops her bag to the ground, raising both hands in defense in front of her, one hand tightly gripped around a TASER.

  Where the fuck did she get a TASER?

  “You wish, you dumb shit,” she says, her words confident and sure.

  Her boss takes another step closer, but Sarah doesn’t move and before I even realize what I’m doing, I’ve moved around the stairwell and am halfway up the stairs toward them.

  “Sarah,” I shout, immediately regretting my stupidity.

  Because even though both he and Sarah both look at me, the distraction is enough that he lunges at her, smacking the TASER out of her hand and sending it flying out of her reach />
  Sarah’s stare meets mine for a millisecond, her face impassive before she turns back to her boss who’s now grinning like a maniac as he steps even closer.

  I move up the stairs, slowly, not wanting to spook him or provoke him into doing something stupid. I don’t get very far though, a hand on my arm, gripping me tight and stopping me.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I hiss, turning and yanking my arm from Ryan’s grip.

  Ryan nods toward his sister, his eyes never leaving her as he says, “Watch.”

  I turn back and my eyes widen in surprise, maybe amazement and a little bit of arousal, as I see Sarah move in what looks like slow motion, deflecting the hand her boss reaches out toward her, while at the same time, grabbing his wrist and snapping the arm behind his back.

  He howls in pain and I feel myself smile, at the same time my heart kicks it up a notch and a tingling starts up low in my gut.

  Sarah spins him around, pressing his face into the brick wall of the stairwell, not bothering to be gentle about it. Still holding his arm in her grip, her other hand grabs the back of his neck, holding his head in place while she gives him a quick, hard kick to the back of the legs so his knees buckle beneath him.

  “Hey detective,” she shouts, her eyes never leaving him. “Got any cuffs down there?”

  I turn to Joe, who’s standing behind Ryan, gun drawn. He grins at her request, holstering his weapon and pulling out his cuffs as he walks around us both and up the remaining stairs toward her.

  When he reaches Sarah, they grin at each other and a momentary wave of jealously rushes over me that I quickly squash down. I know this isn’t anything more than two friends and I’d be an idiot to make it anything more than that.

  “Can I cuff him?” she asks, letting go of his neck and yanking his other arm behind him so both wrists are now firmly gripped in her hands.

  Joe chuckles. “As much as I’d love to let you do that, Sarah,” he says, stepping toward them. “We should really follow protocol.”

  “No fair,” she pouts, although the smile on her face suggests she understands. I watch as she transfers her boss to Joe, who immediately snaps the cuffs on his wrists, giving them a hard yank to make sure they are tight.

  “Anyway,” Joe continues. “I think you might need to go and greet your audience,” he says, nodding down toward Ryan and me.

  Sarah’s gaze travels downwards, her eyes locking onto mine where she offers me a half smile before moving to her brother. She scowls at him though, and when I turn to Ryan I see him standing, arms crossed over his chest and smug look on his face.

  “Not bad, kid,” he says, grinning at her as she walks down the stairs toward us. “Guess I wasn’t such a bad teacher after all, was I?”

  Sarah rolls her eyes. “Or more likely, I was an excellent student,” she says, turning her gaze back to me.

  In that instant, something clicks and I haul ass up the last few stairs and pull her into my arms. “Jesus Christ, baby,” I breathe out, burying my face in her hair. “Are you okay?”

  Sarah buries her face against my chest, her arms wrapping tightly around me. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she says, even though I can feel her body shaking in my arms.

  “What the hell happened?” I ask, as Joe calls out to the two uniforms to escort her boss to the squad car and take him to the station.

  We watch in silence as they move past us, one of them taking her boss by the cuffs and guiding him from behind, the other at his side, hand gripping his arm as they lead him down the stairwell and out into the lobby.

  Joe follows, stopping when he reaches us. “You wanna finally tell them what’s been going on now?” he asks.

  Sarah glances at him, then her brother before finally looking up at me. I watch as she swallows hard, her eyes flicking between the three of us as though she can’t decide who she should be looking at.

  Eventually she settles on me. “So it seems like my boss doesn’t just like to harass people,” she says, an edge to her voice. “Apparently he likes to rape them too, and then pay them off when they try to do something about it.”

  “What the fuck?!” Ryan and I both shout at the same time.

  My arms tighten around her even as she pulls back. “Let me go, Finn,” she says, a hand on my chest. “I need to tell you this.”

  I loosen my grip, even as my heart continues to pound and my brain screams at me to pull her into my arms again. I watch as she takes a deep breath, sliding her hands up and down her thighs as though to steady them. Eventually she looks up at us.

  “Joe found the last woman,” she says calmly. “Found out what Andrew had done to her, about the payout and the confidentiality agreement. It’s what he does and it’s why no one has ever been able to stop him. HR turns a blind eye because all these women eventually retract their stories and mysteriously end up promoted,” she continues. “Either that or they disappear, several hundred thousand dollars richer apparently, but not so keen to tell their version of events anymore.”

  “Jesus, Sarah,” I say, pulling her back into my arms. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? Why didn’t you tell me how much danger you were really in?”

  She shrugs in my arms, her words muffled against my chest. “I don’t know,” she says. “It’s not that I wanted to keep it from you, Finn, it’s just that you were going through your own shit and I didn’t want to add to that.”

  “Oh baby,” I breathe out, burying my face in her neck. “You don’t ever need to worry about that, okay,” I whisper, my words meant only for her. “You can always tell me anything, always. I want you to tell me everything, okay.”

  Sarah nods but says nothing more.

  I catch Ryan’s eye as we stand in the stairwell, Sarah in my arms. He doesn’t say anything but I get the feeling he’s known more about this than I have. Joe too, obviously.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. “Why didn’t you tell me what the fuck was going on with her?”

  Ryan opens his mouth to speak but Sarah cuts him off. “I asked him not to,” she says, hand on my cheek. “I’m sorry, Finn, truly. I know I should have told you.”

  “For the record,” Ryan says. “I did tell her to tell you.”

  “As did I,” Joe adds.

  I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm because as much as it pisses me off that I’ve been kept in the dark about just how fucked up this whole situation is with her boss, I haven’t exactly been honest about what’s been going on me either.

  Exhaling, knowing now is not the time for that, I turn to Joe. “Are you gonna want her statement tonight?”

  He nods. “That would be best,” he says. “We can swing by the station now and I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

  I turn to Ryan who nods.

  “Okay,” I reply. “Let’s go.”

  Ryan, Sarah and I follow Joe over to the station. Joe makes good on his promise and takes Sarah straight through to the interview room to take her statement. Ryan disappears to no doubt catch up with his old work colleagues, leaving me standing like an idiot in the middle of the station, wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.

  “Finn.”

  I turn at the sound of my name, see Ryan standing by the door. “Come with me,” he says nodding his head.

  “But…”

  “They know where we are. It’s not far.”

  I walk over, follow him out of the station and across the road to an Irish bar. Ryan opens the door for me and when I walk inside, I see a room full of cops and immediately feel at ease.

  “What are you drinking?” Ryan asks, slapping me on the back as he gestures toward the bar.

  I shove a hand through my hair. “Something strong.”

  He nods and we walk over. I take a seat and wait and when Ryan returns he hands me a beer and a shot, clinking his coke against my glass.

  “So,” he starts, as he takes a seat on the stool beside mine. “Let me just start by sayi
ng I did not know all the details about the boss and the shit he’s pulled.”

  I glance sideways and see Ryan watching me.

  “I’m serious, Finn,” he says. “This whole rape thing is news to me and I’m fucking pissed about it, okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah, me too.”

  “She knows how to handle herself though and I’m glad for that.”

  I smile, remembering back to the night she handed me my ass in that community center. “Yeah, she does. I should thank you for that.”

  Ryan shrugs as though it’s no big deal, even though we both know it is. “Look,” he continues, exhaling hard. “I know I gave you a lot of shit about all the stuff that went down with Erin, the way it was handled…”

  “Ryan,” I start, but he holds up a hand to silence me.

  “I was wrong about that, Finn,” he says, meeting my stare. “You took care of her for me. You took care of her before me and I’ll always owe you for that.”

  I open my mouth to speak but something in the way Ryan looks at me silences my words. I’m not sure I deserve it, this thanks for taking care of Erin. Sometimes it feels like I did absolutely fuck all and even if I did somehow help, she still wound up in trouble, still almost died because her fucking ex found her.

  “I owe you for taking care of Sarah too,” he continues, quieter now.

  “What?”

  He nods. “She’s in love with you, you know,” he continues, his face impassive.

  “What?” I repeat, struggling to make sense of what he’s saying right now.

  He nods, a half smile tugging at his mouth. “I’m glad it’s you though,” he continues. “Glad it’s you that’s going to be looking after her now.”

  “Ryan, I…” I pause, not sure what to say.

  He chuckles. “And god knows she’s gonna keep your ass in line, that’s for damn sure.”

  I feel my jaw drop, unsure what to say or how to comprehend what he’s saying to me right now.

  “There you are,” a voice I would recognize anywhere suddenly says, as a pair of arms slide around my waist from behind.