by Nella Tyler
“Okay; it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here and you don’t have to worry. Now, cuddle into those covers, and I’m going to pour you a brandy. I’ll be right back,” he said as he quietly left the room, peering in on Carson on his way down the hall. The boy was fast asleep.
“Here you go,” he held out the snifter and held one for himself. He climbed onto the bed and sat with his legs crossed, facing her. “Now, tell me what happened?”
Gilda took a tiny sip of the drink; she was not accustomed to liquor besides wine. It burned as she swallowed, but seemed to give her some confidence. “He found me,” she began with the most salient point.
“You’re talking about Scott, right?”
She nodded and took another sip. She had quickly donned a nightshirt and wore a robe over the top of it. It was open and her generous breasts strained at the fabric of the nightshirt. “It was my own fault.”
“Your fault? How?”
“When I went down to see Mama, I took her a little money I had set aside. I put it into an envelope, not even thinking that the department’s name and address was on it. I’m so used to seeing them every day, it just never occurred to me. Scott must have gotten to Mama — probably bought her a bottle of whiskey and she turned me in for it. I wouldn’t put that beyond her.”
Cole made a mental note that Gilda’s mother was not someone he was fond of, nor would he allow her into their lives. “Why did he come?”
Gilda shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he thinks I’ve got a good job and he’s here to get money out of me.”
“But your divorce is final, right? Everything is settled?”
She nodded. “I gave him everything there was and swore never to request alimony or child support. All he had to do was to give up custody of Carson. That’s all I asked for.”
Cole frowned, his green eyes turning stormy with his thoughts and the muscle in his strong jaw beginning to jerk with aggravation. “Let me guess. He’s threatening to take the boy so you’ll pay him off?”
“Jesus, I don’t know, Cole!” she exploded in frustration. “All I know is that Mrs. Crutcher rented him the apartment right next to ours. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know who he was. When I got home, there he was, sitting in the parlor, and with Carson sitting on his lap. He told Carson he was his daddy and now everything is fucked up!”
Cole bristled. He’d never heard Gilda use that language and never seen her angry. He realized he was seeing fear — the very real fear of a mother who stood to lose her child. The fear born from having experienced hell in that man’s grasp.
Cole reached for her, pulling her against his chest while he took the snifter from her hand and set it on the nightstand. “Now, you listen to me. That man doesn’t have a hold on you or Carson any longer. That’s done! Over! You hear me? You’re here with me now, and nothing or no one is going to hurt you. I just won’t let it happen!”
“You don’t understand,” she pleaded. “He is living next door to me! I’ve got nowhere to go, nowhere to leave Carson while I go to work!”
Cole held a finger to her lips. “Hush, now. I’m guessing your landlord, this Mrs. Crutcher, she’s who watched Carson while you worked?”
Gilda nodded in misery.
“Why didn’t you just tell me about him?” His tone evidenced his pain.
“I’m sorry, but you have to understand. I can’t let anyone near Carson, not until he’s older. He’s all I have and I’m all he has. He needs me. It’s not you, Cole…it’s any man!”
He nodded. He understood all too well. He reached over and turned out the lamp on the nightstand. Folding back the blanket, he patted the space next to him. “Here, lay down here next to me. You’re shaking, and I’m afraid you’re going into shock. The brandy will kick in shortly and you’re to lie here next to me so I can feel that you’re okay. Nothing is going to happen. Trust me.”
Gilda looked at him miserably. She felt as though she had betrayed his trust and all the kindness and passion he had expressed to her. She was making him pay for the deeds of Scott. It wasn’t fair to him. “I’m so sorry…” she began. “I should have told you.”
“Hush, now. I understand, I really do. We’ll talk tomorrow but tonight I want you to get some sleep.”
“But-”
“But, nothing. For once in your life, can you just trust someone? You know me, Gilda. Have I let anything happen to you or not ever kept my word?”
She shook her head. “No, you’ve been a man of your word from the beginning.”
“Exactly, and there’s no reason to expect otherwise. Now, get over here and lay next to me. I just want to hold you as we get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll figure out what we’re going to do.”
She did as he asked, lying against him and snuggling her head upon his chest. “You really mean that?” she said into the hair that covered that broad expanse.
He lifted her chin. Her voice had been soft and garbled. “What’s that?”
She lifted her head a bit and repeated, “You really mean that? When you say we?”
“Of course! You won’t let me say it, but you know how I feel, Gilda. You and that little boy in the next room are my responsibility from here on out. You just pack that into the corner of fear in your beautiful brain and know that everything will be just fine. You have my word.”
She nodded, content, and her eyes fell closed. Cole lay there a long time, feeling her gentle breath against the hairs on his chest. He felt content and yet helpless.
Gilda was quite right when she said there was little he could do. Scott hadn’t committed any crimes, and if Cole approached him, especially since he didn’t have his badge get, it would be seen as harassment and could cost Cole his career.
Inside, he knew he would give it all up to keep Gilda and the child safe, but he’d rather finish the training and get rid of Scott in the way that it was intended. He would give Scott enough rope to hang himself. Satisfied with the thought, he closed his eyes and soon joined the rest of the household in a fitful sleep.
Chapter 22
Cole awakened to the smell of bacon and coffee. He dressed quickly and found Gilda in the kitchen, busily making breakfast as Carson perched on one of the stools.
“I like your house, Mr. Cole,” Carson said politely. “It’s awfully big.”
Cole grinned and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Oh, Carson, it’s not all mine; well, not just mine. It belongs to my family. I only live on this floor.”
Gilda swung around from the stove. “Your family owns this building?” she asked in awe.
He nodded casually, “And a few more around town.” He nibbled a piece of bacon and looked up to see the astonishment on her face. “Hey! You didn’t ask, and you didn’t seem to want to know, so I didn’t tell you. Doesn’t matter, anyway. They’re into all sorts of things.”
“Such as…” she led him on.
He flushed. “Remember where we went to see the rodeo?”
She nodded.
“Yeah, well, that, too.”
“I thought your family was from somewhere else?”
“Oh, my dad is in Florida now. He gave up on the northern winters, but he still has his holdings.”
She turned to flip an egg and looked back at him over her shoulder, her hair neatly braided and trailing into the opening where her night shirt ended and the robe began. He admired her from the rear, a perspective he seldom had a chance to study.
“And, your mother?”
“Mom? Mom gave up on Dad. I think she’s in Paris right now, if I remember correctly. She’s always travelling; I get postcards and emails from her. She has a slew of boyfriends who keep her pretty busy.”
Gilda nodded slowly, lifting the fried eggs from the pan onto a plate and setting it before Cole.
“No, let the boy eat first,” he said, pushing the plate toward Carson.
“Thank you, Mr. Cole,” Carson said politely, tucking his napkin into the neck of his pajamas and picking up his fork.
“
How about you just call me Cole?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Cole… I mean Cole.”
As most five-year-olds would, Carson had already lost track of their conversation and was hungrily using his fork to break off pieces of the eggs and piling them upon a slice of crisp toast. He pushed these toward his mouth as the egg slid off and went onto his shirt. He quickly picked up the egg with his finger, guiltily looking at Gilda and Cole to see if they’d noticed. Both pretended to be blind.
Gilda fried more eggs, and she and Cole took their plates into the living room to sit on the sofa, balancing their food on their knees. “Don’t know why, but I never did like to sit at a table,” she confessed.
When breakfast was over, she went in and ran a bath for Carson, laying out some clothes as she sent him into the warm waters.
“We’ll sort things out later, Carson. Right now, you clean up well and brush your teeth after you dry off. And don’t leave the towel on the floor, alright?” she said as she left, leaving the door open a few inches so she could hear him splashing. She and Cole took mugs of fresh coffee and settled on his bed to talk.
Cole began the discussion. “When is he supposed to start school?”
“This fall. But everything is a mess now. I can’t put him in the school he would have gone to; it’s too close to the apartment and Scott will find him.”
“No, no, don’t worry about that. Your address has changed as of now,” he began. He looked up and saw Gilda’s head shaking.
“No, no, Cole. This isn’t your problem — it’s mine. I’m very grateful you let us stay here last night because honest to God, I don’t know where we would have gone. But that’s it. Carson and I have to find somewhere else to go.”
“You can’t, Gilda. He will find you. He has a trail to follow and even though I’ve never met the son-of-a bitch…” His voice was raised and Gilda held a finger over her lips to hush him.
“He’s Carson’s daddy, no matter what. I don’t want Carson to ever suffer because of Scott.”
Cole nodded. “Sorry,” he said more quietly. “Scott is an asshole, and I know his type all too well. He didn’t come all this way to just go back empty-handed. You say he rented an apartment in your building?”
Gilda nodded. “Right next door. We literally share a wall.”
“Then you’ll stay here,” he concluded.
“No.”
“It’s not open to argument.”
“Remember the rules…”
“To hell with the rules! That was before that asshole tracked you and your son down.
“Look, Gilda. I know you don’t have the resources to start over. You can’t work at the station any more. Even though the place is crawling with cops, it’s not their job to maintain a personal bodyguard over you. They’ve got to go out on calls. It’s just too high of a risk.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying that,” Gilda marveled, sipping her coffee. “You’re becoming one of New York’s finest and you mean to tell me the whole crew of them can’t keep me safe?”
“I didn’t say they couldn’t,” he interjected. “I said it wasn’t their job. This is more of a job for a bodyguard, not a cop. As you so accurately pointed out, until Scott breaks a law, nobody can touch him. Well, I’m not going to wait for that to happen.”
Gilda was silent, thinking over her options. “Well, okay, we’ll stay for the time being, but I don’t want to wear out our welcome. As soon as I can get something set up, Carson and I will be moving on. That’s the only way I’m going to agree to this,” she said stubbornly, her brown eyes large and serious.
Cole looked at her full lips and wanted terribly to kiss them just then, but knew the discussion had not yet ended and he couldn’t allow her to think she had prevailed.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For the time being, you’re staying here. The only way to access this floor is through that elevator and there are just three keys. I’m certainly not going to turn mine over, you have yours, and the doorman has his. He’s not letting anyone up. You’re as safe here as a princess in a castle,” he pointed out, taking another drink of his coffee.
“I can’t just be captive here,” she protested.
“Gilda, please…I have to plan this out. For now, could you just try to settle in and look after Carson? There’s a pool in the basement level, as well as a gymnasium. There are some other kids in the building, and he can make friends. We’ll order in groceries and anything else that’s needed, and once I finish training academy, we’ll figure out a longer-term plan. Can you just do that much for me?”
Gilda felt ashamed of herself. This man before her loved her; she knew it, and she knew she was falling in love with him. He was offering her a safe haven from the nightmare of her past and there she was, arguing the terms of his generous offer.
She leaned forward, her breasts pressing into his chest. “Thank you, Cole,” she said as she kissed him. “You are really doing more than anyone could ask, and until I’m in a position to do different, thank you for looking after us.”
“Mama!” came a call from across the hall. Gilda smiled and rolled off the bed to see what Carson needed.
He was holding a remote control in his hand and wanted to know if Mr. Cole had any cartoons at his house. Gilda assured him there was plenty to watch and showed him how to use the remote. She washed out the tub and tidied up behind him before going back to Cole’s room and showering and dressing herself for the day.
They spent the day reclining on the sofa, watching cartoons and munching on the generous pantry Cole’s kitchen offered. Gilda felt utter contentment and Carson thought surely this was what heaven was like, high up in the clouds with all the things he could ever want right at his fingertips.
Gilda had begun to doze when her cell began to buzz. Puzzled, she picked it up and saw that it was Mrs. Crutcher calling.
“Hello?”
“Please come home now,” came Mrs. Crutcher’s voice. Gilda could tell she was very upset.
“What’s wrong, Mrs. Crutcher?” she asked, although she had a strong suspicion it had something to do with Scott.
“That man… He broke into your apartment and messed it all up. I called the police. They are here now and want to talk to you. Please come home.”
“I’m on my way,” Gilda promised and disconnected.
Chapter 23
“No! You’re not going alone!” Cole barked and Gilda could tell he meant business. “We have him where we want him now. Breaking and entering is a chargeable offense, and we can lock him up.”
“It won’t stop him,” Gilda shook her head. “Scott’s been in jail so many times, they practically named a cell for him. As soon as he gets out, he’ll come after me — and this time, he won’t let go.”
“I said no!” There was no budging Cole.
“I don’t have anyone to watch Carson, and I’m not taking him over there; it’s not good for him and you never know. Scott might be hanging around, leaving and using the apartment as bait to get me back there.”
“Which is exactly why you’re not going alone. Sit there and don’t move!”
Cole picked up his phone and tapped out a number. He spoke in a low voice, cupping his hand over the phone to ask the address, which Gilda supplied. He ended the call.
“I just confirmed that the police are on scene. Let them handle this, Gilda.”
“Cole. I have to go! They won’t know what he’s done — whether he took things, broke things… I’m the only one who can make the report. You know that!
Cole stared at her and made another call as he walked into the bathroom. He emerged, completely showered and dressed a short time later. Gilda had already dressed and was waiting for him.
“Okay. I’ve ordered a nanny. She is someone who comes highly recommended by the concierge at one of my father’s hotels.”
“One of your father’s hotels?” Gilda’s jaw dropped open.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get to that later. In the meantime,
she’s on her way here and the doorman will let me know when she has arrived. She will stay with Carson while you and I are going to your apartment. I’ve already spoken with the officers on the scene, and they’re waiting for us.”
There was a buzz at the panel next to the front door, and Cole answered it, telling the doorman to send the nanny up.
“I’m Cindy,” she introduced herself as she entered. She had a satchel and pulled Carson to sit on the sofa as she opened it and let him pick out a coloring book and a box of crayons. “We’ll be fine. Take your time. I’ll fix the little one dinner if you’re gone too late.”
“See?” Cole asked Gilda, pushing her to approve.
She nodded and headed toward the elevator, with Cole immediately behind. “Don’t let anyone in,” he barked over his shoulder.
They took Cole’s car to the apartment building, although they had to park some distance away. The wind whipped between the buildings, and Cole kept Gilda close. His senses were on full alert, and he wore his weapon on his belt. He possessed a concealed carry permit and the gun was his own. He had yet to receive a departmental issue.
Inside the apartment building, they found Mrs. Crutcher tearfully wiping her plump cheeks as she sat on the sofa in the parlor. The two officers were patiently waiting, and it was apparent from the scene when Cole and Gilda arrived that they were relieved to see them. Mrs. Crutcher had been sobbing, carrying on about the damage and how Mr. Crutcher had made so much of the woodwork with his own hand tools. Gilda gave the woman a quick hug and went up the stairs to survey the damage.
From what she could tell, Scott had probably broken in initially because he thought she was ignoring his knocks at the door. There were two large holes punched through the door as though he had used his fists in anger. The chain lock was hanging at an angle in the broken door frame, so he must have forced his way in with his shoulder or feet.
The apartment was in total chaos; nothing was as it should have been. Cushions were on the floor, many of them sliced open, bleeding foam or polyester. All her dishes were broken shards on the floor, and even the wood shelving was ripped out.