Black Dog Security- Complete 5-Part Series

by Camilla Blake

  “It looks worse than it probably is. She’ll hurt, but the nose will be easy to fix. We actually have a surgeon who comes in on Tuesdays. The bruising and hematomas under them will heal pretty quickly.” He put his hand over her arm and gave me an encouraging look. “She’ll be okay. Her vitals are already looking better from when I just left before coming to talk to you. She’s a fighter.”

  I all but collapsed in the chair beside her bed and took her hand. I didn’t know how she was ever supposed to forgive me for what I’d done. I didn’t think she should, or would. I’d used her as bait, for God’s sake. All so I could get it over with quickly and focus on the office. She should’ve run from me as fast as she could.

  “I’ll leave you with her. We can bring a cot in for you, if you’d like. You look exhausted.” He sighed. “We can’t take care of the ones we love if we don’t take care of ourselves.”

  “I’ve slept in worse. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll have them send in the cot. I’ll be back in to check on her again soon. Page the nurse with the call button if you need anything, or if anything changes. I’ll want to check her as soon as she wakes up.”

  Her body decided it would be two days later. They told me that her body knew best and it was letting her heal, but I could tell the doctors were getting worried.

  When she did wake up, it was in the middle of the night, and she woke up screaming. It took me and two nurses to hold her down so a doctor could give her a sedative. Then she went back to sleep for another day.

  The next time she woke up, she was herself, but she wasn’t. There was something dark hanging over her. She didn’t look at me, and when I came back from grabbing a coffee later that day, the nurses informed me that she’d asked for me to leave. She didn’t want me in her room.

  I got it.

  I just didn’t like it.

  I wanted to wait for her. I wanted to talk to her and tell her how sorry I was. She didn’t want me there, though. I had to follow her wishes, no matter what.

  I went back to Black Dog Security and slept there. I couldn’t go back to my house and sleep in my bed, not when I knew I’d be able to smell her on my pillow. It was torture. I’d never been so torn up over a woman and I wasn’t taking it well.

  There was work to do, though. Now that I knew Carolina was okay, Porter getting away mattered. It mattered a lot. I had to find him and make him pay for what he’d done.

  Chapter 23

  Cookie

  “You’re doing great.” Rebecca, my night nurse, watched as I walked back to bed. “It’s almost as if there were no injuries to your legs at all.”

  I raised my eyebrows at her. “You’re a comedian, huh?”

  She grinned and came over to pull my sheets back over me after I was in bed. When I fussed about it, she smacked my hand. “The doctor said you couldn’t bend forward and do stuff like that.”

  I shrugged. “It was a nose job. It’s not like I had brain surgery.”

  “But you did have a brain injury.”

  “No; my brain was being dramatic after nothing happened to it.” I forced an eye roll, like what’d happened to me was no big deal. “When are they going to let me escape this place, anyway?”

  “There’s still a police guard on you right now. He’s outside and he’s hot.”

  I thought of Vince and looked away. I hadn’t spoken to him in almost a week. After I’d asked that he leave, he’d done just that. He hadn’t been back.

  “Honey, you’ve got to start enjoying the small things. You’re stuck here with me, but the cop is hot. You’ve got someone cooking for you every day. A constant escort wherever you want to go.”

  “You won’t let me go where I want to go.”

  “Well, I’m not at your home to make sure you’re okay.” She leaned in. “But I’ll tell you a little secret. I heard Doctor Hanner say that you’ll be getting out in a day or two.”

  “Way to bury the lede.” I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling the fading knots under my skin. “All I want to do is sleep in my own bed.”

  “Well, you will be soon. But you’ll miss me.”

  I smiled at her and nodded. “I will.”

  I pretended to fall asleep not too long after, and then I actually did. I woke up breathing hard and grasping at my throat. After the first few nights, they’d cut my nails down to nothing because I was clawing my throat up every night while dreaming.

  “Hey, you’re okay.”

  I jerked up and found Lauren sitting on the side of my bed. “Lauren! What are you doing here?”

  She leaned forward and touched my cheek, where a particularly nasty bruise was fighting fading. “I’m on my way out of town and wanted to stop by and see you before I went. I’m sorry I haven’t been by before.”

  I raised my bed so I could look at her and saw that she looked almost as rough as me—and she hadn’t drowned. “What’s going on?”

  She smiled. “Things are hectic. Mercer is still gone. The guys are swamped with work. Vince just got back.”

  “Back from where?”

  “That’s part of why I’m here. I have good news. Frank Porter is dead.”

  I sat up. “What?”

  “Vince went underground and found him. I don’t know the details, but Porter’s body was found floating in a lake a little earlier. The police should be by to tell you later. Act surprised.”

  I felt like crying. “Vince did that?”

  “Can’t say. For legal reasons. You get it.” She winked. “Now, I’m heading out. I think I might know something…”

  About Mercer. She was going to find him. “Good. I hope everything is okay.”

  “Me too. Do you mind staying at my house for a little while? I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone and Vince mentioned that yours was kind of destroyed.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Just keep the glitter to a minimum.” She laughed lightly and then leaned forward to squeeze my hand. “Take it easy, Cookie. And go easy on Vince. I think he might be trying for you.”

  I watched as she left, then slumped back into my pillows. Frank was dead. Vince had done that for me. Not that it mattered, I told myself. It didn’t change anything.

  I was released the next day and took a cab to Lauren’s house. I’d never seen it, but it was small and charming. It took a few days to feel at home, but once I settled in, I loved it.

  I watched TV on her overstuffed couch and made use of the small garden behind her house. The vegetables would be bad by the time, probably, she returned, so I ate them happily. I took walks through her backyard, watered the garden with the sprinkler system she had installed, and played with a neighborhood cat that seemed to take to me.

  It was nice to not have to worry about being killed. It was nice to have some time to myself, time to think.

  Nearly dying had made me realize that I didn’t want to strip anymore. I hadn’t in a while, but it had been a means to an end. I wasn’t going to do it, though. I’d work the bar and do the books for Steve—and he could pay me well or I’d find somewhere else to go. The Dream might have to wait for a little while, but it’d still happen. I just wanted to be a little happier in the meantime. Somehow.

  It would all be fine. It had to be. I’d already been through the worst thing I could imagine. I was recovering from that okay. Mostly.

  After a week of being at Lauren’s house, I’d practically adopted the cat, eaten all of her veggies, and decided that I couldn’t watch daytime TV without wanting to break the TV in half. I was going a little stir-crazy. I knew I couldn’t go back to work yet, though. Not with my face still looking a little beat-up. Plus, the bandage on my nose. It wasn’t a great look.

  I was still having the nightmares and had scheduled an appointment at a local therapist’s office. I wanted to get better. No matter what I had to do. That meant in every way. I still felt the heaviness that had been with me since I woke up. Healing hadn’t taken it away. Something about seeing my mom in those
last seconds before passing out had gotten to me. Knowing how alone I was and how little I had to show for my life in terms of connections to other human beings was heartbreaking.

  I also hadn’t let myself think about Vince. I wanted to live in that sadness of what had happened, but I knew it wasn’t good for me. I refused to eat ice cream and cry when I’d had no right feeling anything for him.

  So, I just carried on living my life. When my nose bandage came off and I had my teeth fixed, I went back to work. Steve’s business had gone down since I’d left and he had no choice but to let me do what I wanted to do. So, I bartended and did the books. I started running the club like I wanted to.

  I pressed on. I saw the therapist; I put in the work to be happy. I made an effort to become closer to Lola and some of the other girls at work. I actually adopted the cat from the neighborhood and it slept with me every night.

  I was getting better. The only thing missing was Vince. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was supposed to be in my life and things weren’t right. It was like a phantom limb. I thought I’d seen him while I was coming out of work one night, but when I’d looked back, there was no one there. I knew that I’d just wanted him to be there. It wasn’t the only time I’d imagined him, though.

  Things didn’t come to a head until one weekend afternoon. I was mowing Lauren’s grass and I glanced up just as Vince’s truck drove by. It didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, but I knew it was him. He was checking up on me.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I jumped in my car and chased him down. Driving like a maniac seemed to gain one’s attention. He had no choice but to stop and let me confront him.

  I got out of my car and hurried over to where he was still sitting in his truck, face forward. “Stop it! If you’re not going to actually stop and talk to me, don’t drive by, don’t check up on me, and don’t bother me!”

  I went back to my car, got in, and raced back to Lauren’s house before I broke down and cried. I finished the yard while still sobbing and trying to let shit out, the way the therapist thought I should.

  The next morning, there were flowers on the front steps with a note from Vince, saying he was sorry. I drove straight to Black Dog Security and found him sitting in the back, looking as rough as a man like him could.

  “What did I say? I said don’t bother me unless you want to talk to me. That includes leaving flowers. If you’re going to bring flowers, stop and talk to me. I don’t know what you’re doing. Are you just easing some guilt you feel so you can get on with your life? You’re not making it any easier on me!”

  Tucker slowly got up from the table and backed away. “I think you’ve got this, brother.”

  Vince looked up at me, his eyes red-rimmed and more than a few days’ worth of beard on his face. He looked broken and sad. “I’m sorry.”

  I grabbed at a chair. “For what? For what happened or for not letting me move on?”

  “Fuck. For everything.” He turned back to the table and hung his head. “For everything, Carolina.”

  I sat across from him. “I’m only going to say this once, so you’d better listen closely. What you’re doing isn’t working. If you’re still checking on me out of guilt, don’t come back around. I mean it. I don’t want to see you if you just feel shitty and are sorry that my face got fucked up or whatever. If you’re coming around because you miss me or there’s a part of you that wants to come in and just… see me… you can come over tomorrow night for dinner. If you’re not there, I don’t want to see you again, Vince. Let me move on.”

  I got up and rushed back out, feeling like I’d just made either a huge mistake or the best decision ever. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t the woman who went along with whatever. I called the shots and it was time I did. If he showed up, I’d know that I had a different set of things to worry about. Like how someone was supposed to date Vince and not lose their shit. If he didn’t show, then I’d know that I could start to mourn whatever we’d had.

  I spent the next day wracking my brain, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. Maybe I should’ve just let it hang in the air for a little while longer. Maybe I’d be able to pretend like things were fine for a little while longer. But, no—I’d had to go and throw down the gauntlet, putting a deadline on whatever was going to happen.

  I got dressed and I threw a frozen lasagna in the oven. I wasn’t slaving over a stove when I didn’t even know if he was going to show up. I did my makeup to hide the few remaining spots on my face that were healing, and I fixed my hair in big, loose waves. I was ready, no matter what happened.

  He showed up early with more flowers. My heart in my throat, I led him to the kitchen table and we sat awkwardly for an hour while we ate. When we finished eating, he left and I asked him to come back again.

  He came back the next night and we ate in silence again. After dinner, he stood up to leave, but I stopped him.

  “This is awful.”

  He looked sheepish and nodded. “Yeah, it really is.”

  “Do you want this? You didn’t have to come, Vince. I would’ve been okay.”

  “Probably better without me.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath and sat back down in my chair. “Is that what you think?”

  “I nearly got you killed.” He blew out a frustrated breath and I saw some of the Vince I knew emerge. “I fucking messed up again and again. Are you fucking crazy to want to see me still?”

  I laughed. “Maybe.”

  “I’m serious. Why do you want me here?”

  “Because I’m tired of not living my life, Vince.”

  “What?”

  “I’m tired of not living my life.” I spoke each word like it was its own sentence. “I’ve gone through my entire life just trying to get by, trying to get to the next step. I’ve never made friends, had a family, done anything other than try to get someplace better. I’m tired. I want to be happy.

  “In the water… in the water, I had this moment where I realized that I didn’t mean anything to anyone. The only person who’d ever been close to me was my crackhead mother who dragged me around the country and locked me out of our van while she fucked strangers for drug money. I don’t want that life anymore.”

  When I started to cry, Vince moved over to me and fell to his knees in front of me. He pulled me into a fierce hug and held me there for what felt like forever. I didn’t want to move.

  “You’re crazy and scary, with how easily you chance your life, but you make me live. I like being with you.”

  “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve anything with you. Not after what I did.”

  I pulled back and held his face in my hands. “Did you think that Frank would get me?”

  “No. Never. I thought I had it under control. I was so fucking sure.”

  “You didn’t mean for it to happen. And then you saved me. I remember you saving me, Vince. I remember you talking to me.”

  “I killed him. It wasn’t… it wasn’t an easy death. He didn’t deserve it.”

  I stroked his hair and stared into his eyes. “I’m glad.”

  “I should’ve come here sooner. I was just… I fucked up so much, Carolina. I don’t know why you’re even letting me in the front door.”

  “Because I didn’t get all of you that I wanted. And because of whatever this thing is between us.”

  “Tell me I can stay.” He cupped my face in his hands and stroked my cheeks. “Tell me that you want me to stay.”

  “I want you to stay.” It was that easy. “Only if you think we can start over, though. I don’t want you trying to make things up to me for however long this lasts.”

  “Long.” His surety made my heart thud a little harder. “And I can’t promise you that I’m just going to be able to forget about it. I… I can’t forgive myself, yet.”

  “Are you going to keep touching me like I’m breakable?”

  He leaned back and smiled. “For a little while.”

  “Even if I go to t
he bedroom and undress before getting on all fours on the bed?” I was done with being sad and emotional. I wanted to start living. As soon as possible.

  “You still need time to heal. I’m going home tonight. I don’t want to, but I don’t deserve to touch you like that, yet. I’ll be back for dinner tomorrow night, though.”

  I let him go. He could take it at the pace he wanted, for the time being.

  Not thirty seconds after he left, he was rushing back through the front door. He slammed it shut and rushed across the room to me. “Fuck it. I don’t deserve you, but I’m taking you anyway. Not just tonight. Every night. You’re mine.”

  I gasped as he picked me up and carried me towards the couch. “Every night?”

  “Every night. Everything. Kids, family, whatever you want. It’s yours. I fucking care about you, Carolina. I’ll give you everything I have.”

  I pulled him onto the couch, on top of me. “You’re all I want.”

  PART FIVE

  Chapter 1

  Lauren

  Rough hands slid over my body, leaving twin trails of heat. I knew I was dreaming. No one had touched me in years. The dream—back to it—was amazing. The man in front of me touched me, kissed me, ran his tongue all over me. He teased and pleased me until I screamed for him. I knew who it was. It was the same man it always was. Tall, large body, rough with scars, and the cold metal of a prosthetic leg brushing against me every so often. Cold, ice-colored eyes glaring down at me, angry that I could make him feel as powerless as he did whenever around me. Thin lips pursed as he thought about whether he wanted to strangle me or screw me senseless. In my dreams, he always chose screwing. He was a lover.

  The man in my dreams was the only solace I ever had from my waking nightmare that was Mercer Dunn. Fickle, bossy, hardheaded asshole that he was, that bad attitude sometimes even leaked into my dreams. Hence the strangling desire. That wasn’t normally a fetish of mine. At least I didn’t think so. I was so twisted up over Mercer that I’d try anything with him once. Or twice. Not that he wanted to try anything with me.