The Vigilant: A Reverse Harem Dark Cop Romance

by Anna Belle

  I got up, started pacing.

  Excitement was superseded by fear. By what I’d seen last night.

  Two storefronts down from the bar, the window lit up to show a booth of regular kids. Two guys with tattoos, one blonde girl and a guy with a floppy haircut. Only the blonde girl was Ivy and the guy with the floppy haircut was Colt.

  One blonde girl who was Ivy and her boyfriend, her Colt, the asshole with a floppy haircut.

  My shaky legs sat me back down on the bed.

  Maybe he’d changed, maybe he wasn’t involved in the same old shit, maybe…

  I stood up again. Who was I kidding?

  “Maybe he’ll change” was what had kept me with Taylor for six months too long. Ivy had the same problem – putting on ‘potential blinders’ for any guys she dated. And Colt was the worst of them.

  How many times had Ivy swore to me that she was finished with him?

  Just how each and every day Mom and Dad had kept swearing, wine bottles still tucked lovingly in their arms, that today everything would change, that today they’d stop drinking…

  Maybe staying here a bit longer wouldn’t be such a bad idea. If Ivy was hanging around Colt, she’d need my help. Even if she didn’t want it.

  Getting out my phone, I started job hunting.

  Online, there were, of course, seemingly countless opportunities. Although I knew the reality would be less rosy. I’d been job hunting before, and it wasn’t pretty. In a city with a population of 2.8 million, I’d be lucky if I got an interview, let alone a call-back. Even jobs as undesirable as a janitor often had at least 50 or so other people vying for it.

  It wasn’t like I could go back to my old job. Already, I’d had Jessica and Kyle texting me asking me where I was, saying that Taylor was asking about me. No, if I went back there, then he’d find me. I was already putting myself enough at risk as it was.

  I stopped my determined hunt when my retinas started to burn with the need for sleep.

  The next day, I stumbled out of bed, forced myself into the most professional looking clothes I had, and went to six different places to hand in my application, back to back. The first place, a mom-and-pop’s grocery store, wouldn’t even see me, the cranky woman on the till claiming “We got someone”, even though they’d put up the ad yesterday.

  The other places were a bit more successful, and I at least got to hand in my resume. Lucky for me I’d had some readymade and printed for when I arrived in B.C.

  It killed some time, so that I only had about an hour to find myself something to eat, and then hang around my Airbnb nervously, worried about seeing Angel tonight. I shouldn’t have said yes. That much was obvious. I should be calling him up, telling him to forget.

  Chapter 11: Myla

  Instead, I called up Betty. It was about time I broke the news to my best friend that I was staying, at least for the time being.

  “Hey there, stranger!” she said. “How are you liking BC? Miss me already?”

  “Yes – and no,” I said. “Ivy came back,” I said. “So I’m staying in Toronto for a bit longer.”

  “Oh,” she said carefully. “How is she?”

  “Back with Colt,” I said.

  “Damn.” She exhaled. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  “God, I just wish I could come over and roll over all the crap boyfriends with my Yamaha.”

  I chuckled. “The world would probably be a better place.”

  Betty’s hobby was dirt bike racing, of all things. We’d done it together a few times.

  “Speaking of crap boyfriends,” she continued, “You’re not…”

  “Seeing Taylor?” I said quickly. “No, I told you. Broke up with that asshole a week ago.”

  “Thank God.” I could almost hear her typically bright-glossed lips curved into a relieved smile.

  “So, is this your way of saying that we can meet up tonight?” she said.

  “I wish,” I said. Now that I thought about it, I had had the perfect excuse to give Angel. But now… I checked my phone – On my way – his text a minute ago said.

  “I’m busy tonight.”

  “New job?”

  “No, I…”

  “Oh my God, you met someone! You broke up with that soulcrushing asshat Taylor and you literally found someone days later!”

  “No, it’s not like that.”

  “So you haven’t slept with this guy?”

  That was Betty for you, mind-reader and blurter-outer extraordinaire.

  “It’s complicated. I was intending to never see him again. It just sort of happened.”

  I still wasn’t sure whether I wanted to tell her the weirdo circumstances of us meeting. I had promised Angel I wouldn’t, after all. Although Betty was my best friend.

  “So, tell me more – is he your type?” Betty pressed.

  Since my two past boyfriends had happened to be tall, dark-haired and brooding, Betty had pegged me as having a type.

  “Not really,” I said, “He has blond hair.”

  “And how was it?”

  “Hey – you never told me how your latest date went!” I pointed out.

  “Less distracting,” she said firmly, “More spilling.”

  “It was incredible,” I admitted. “Like nothing I’d ever…”

  I trailed off uselessly. Something about voicing my feelings aloud gave them a realness I wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

  Yes, the sex with Angel had been amazing, but since when did that have to mean anything?

  “But you’re seeing him again,” Betty persisted, “That’s a good sign.”

  “Your turn,” I insisted.

  “Fine,” she said. “If you must know, he was a handsy jerk who tried to ply me with sangria and then ended up crying over his ex on the way home.”

  I couldn’t help it – I giggled. “Another Betty Original.”

  “Don’t remind me,” she said with a groan. “I should get a medal or something.”

  “Well, it is good practice for your job,” I pointed out. Betty was studying to be a social worker after all.

  “Yes, it’s what I dream of,” she intoned, “Coaching the world – and my dates, healing one man at a time.”

  She snorted. “Enough – what are you two doing tonight?”

  “It isn’t just two,” I said, “His friends will be there.”

  “Hold up – you’re meeting his friends already? Thought you said it wasn’t serious.”

  “It isn’t,” I argued. Even though I knew Betty meant well, this was getting annoying and starting to hurt my head. “It’s just – I told him I wasn’t in a good place for anything so then he offered I just go bowling with him and his friends. I thought why not.”

  “Pfft,” Betty declared, “You totally want to jump his bones. And it’s adorable how he didn’t give up!”

  My phone beeped – it was Angel: Here. “Speaking of, that’s him,” I said, “I should go.”

  “When do I get to meet him?” she wondered innocently.

  “I don’t know,” I said, “Never?”

  “Myla!”

  “Ok, ok,” I hedged, “I can scout out his friends for you?”

  “Ok, I’ll accept that, for now.”

  “Goodbye Betty.”

  “Goodbye Myla – and good luck. Have some hot sex for both of us!”

  I groaned, but she’d already hung up. I hurriedly threw on a decent tank top, then hurried out, down some stairs, then out onto the sidewalk.

  His black BMW was parked a bit further down the road.

  “Nice place you have there,” he said as I climbed in. His gaze was on the glittery lit-up sign for a strip club I’d accidentally given him the address to pull up near, which was a few buildings down from my place.

  I forced my face into composure. If Angel wanted to make me feel uncomfortable, he was going to have to try harder. “It plays good music.”

  After a beat, he waited. Then, we both cracked up.

&nbs
p; “It’s just some crazy crappy Airbnb place,” I explained. “Where I’m staying.”

  Angel nodded. “Managed to talk to your sister again?”

  “No,” I said.

  I didn’t mention that I had called her four times and left a message.

  The way to the bowling alley, it was weird how easy talking to Angel was. Almost as though our wild night had vaulted us from awkward strangers into friends.

  And yet, I still had so many questions.

  “Your name….” I began.

  “It’s a joke with the other guys.” He smirked at me. “Since I look like an angel and yet … I’m not exactly.”

  I had to smile at that. “No?”

  “My dad hates it too, which is another bonus.” His joking smile disappeared, a look that combined discomfort and, something else, crossed his face. As if unsure of how he was going to continue. He changed the subject instead. “When was the last time you went bowling anyway?”

  “Honestly?” I told him, “I don’t remember.”

  We were here, anyway, pulling into the parking lot of a place that looked like a cross between a Las Vegas motel and a 60’s drive-in burger joint. Its faded, towering bowling pin blinked with dim lights, only a handful still working.

  Inside, it was basically abandoned. One long-faced woman leaned wearily against the dark counter, a cracked green desk lamp her only illumination. Other than her, two men sat waiting in the plastic chairs of the far lane.

  “You’re late,” Red said.

  Oh shit. Him again. Why didn’t I figure that these were the friends Angel was talking about?

  Angel put a hand on my shoulder. “Forgot to mention I was bringing a friend.”

  It was the first time he had touched me since that night, and it sent fire all the way down my upper bicep.

  I swallowed thickly.

  And then there was that redhead with the chiseled jawline and the eyes that seemed to know what I wanted better than I did. Which was…?

  A shiver went through me.

  This was going to be an intense night.

  As I eyed them, with my head less fuzzy than last time, something occurred to me.

  Their jacked physiques, the way their very stances exuded purpose and self-assurance…

  My gaze went to Angel questioningly. “Are you guys all…?”

  Kohl stepped forward, his features in a brooding, almost challenging glare. “Yep. Cops.”

  The way his black-eyed gaze cut into me- I had to force myself not to shrink back.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t tell if he was visually dissecting me because he knew just what deep shit I was in.

  Or because he wanted me as badly as I, in a wild flash, realized I wanted him.

  Chapter 12: Angel

  Kohl needed to back the fuck off.

  The way he was eyeing her… I didn’t like it.

  Fuck, I didn’t like how Red was eyeing her either. Maybe this had been a mistake.

  “Let’s go get some shoes,” I told her, steering her over to the counter, where Mabel was waiting.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were a cop?” Myla asked.

  Simple question, tricky answer.

  Mabel’s unenthusiastic smoker’s drawl interrupted us: “You got a friend today,”

  “Yep.” I put my Mastercard on the counter. “I’ll pay for two games.”

  Myla put her Visa on top of mine firmly. “This is a non-date, remember?”

  I shrugged. Non-dates often ended the same as dates did… My cock twitched eagerly at the thought.

  As Mabel stabbed my order into the relic of a cash register, she let out a long wheezy series of laughs that degenerated into coughs.

  “This one’s,” she cough-laughed in Myla’s direction, “Got fire.”

  She pointed at the sign.

  NO CREDIT OR CHEQUES OR IOU - CASH ONLY

  I scowled. How did I always forget their stupid outdated policy?

  I smiled thinly as I handed over the cash and stepped back as Mabel punched in Myla’s total.

  Frowning, Myla opened her wallet like she already knew what she was going to find in it. “I don’t have any cash on me.”

  Mabel had already turned her shawled back to the office room where she watched a black and white TV when she wasn’t manning the front.

  “I’ll cover you,” I told Myla, smirking as I handed over the money.

  “I’ll pay you back,” Myla said as I stepped back up to pay.

  After getting shoes from Mabel, back at the lane, Kohl and Red were chucking bowling balls like they were getting paid for it.

  “You ready?” Kohl said. His look drilled into me.

  “Sure,” I said.

  Yeah, he was pissed. Not that I really blamed him. These nights were supposed to be for talking strategy.

  Kohl was up first. His Hulk throw of the bowling ball smashed into the pins so hard that one cracked as the rest splayed out.

  He stepped back from his victorious throw saying nothing, his glare returning to focus on me, as if to say, you’re the pin.

  Then it rested on Myla thoughtfully. Fuck the guy. He wanted her and… why in hell did the idea seem to tempt me as much as it angered me? I hardly knew the girl.

  Red was up next. He sauntered up, his gaze resting on Myla too long.

  That strange pulse of excited fury went through my erection uncomfortably.

  He bowled another strike, then it was Myla’s turn.

  As she went up, Red sat beside me and said, “Clearly I shouldn’t have left you with that last night.”

  His gaze flickered to Myla and lingered on her ass.

  “I didn’t stand a chance,” I said, smirking.

  He turned to look me full-on. “You know what I mean. She’s…” His lips parted.

  “Did it occur to you that maybe I like this one?” I said, before I could think better of it.

  Red considered this. “Still, something that… tempting. Seems a crime not to share.”

  “What makes you think she’d even be into that?” I asked.

  I had to admit, the more Red put it out in the open, the more the idea was seriously obsessing me. I’d never been with a woman with another guy before. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But a sick part of me was curious. Tempted.

  Just to see how she’d scream as all her holes were filled…

  “You guys are being idiots,” Kohl snapped. “We have a job to do, and you’re getting distracted by…”

  His gaze went over to Myla as she returned, following the sway of her ample hips.

  Fuck.

  “Looks like we’re not the only ones,” I hissed to him as I rose to go.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched.

  Oh yeah. Kohl wanted her bad. That much was obvious. But would he actually go for it?

  I stopped at the track. “You still have one more throw.”

  Myla just waved her hand. “Just throw it in the gutter, that’s where it’ll end up anyway.”

  “You’re not even going to try?” Red asked, his brows flashing suggestively at her.

  Fuck that guy. Was I ever going to be able to get rid of this erection today?

  “Here.” I walked over to her. “Let me help.”

  “What, are you going to mansplain the dynamics of bowling throwing?” she teased.

  “Read my mind,” I said. “Unless… you’d rather we play the version where you win by avoiding the pins altogether?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  I smirked, patting her. “You’re cute, but not this time.”

  She raised her chin to look at me full-on. “Oh yeah?”

  Her gaze flickered to my lips, challenging me.

  Chapter 13: Myla

  What the hell was up with me?

  Why was I scared, excited and turned on all at once?

  And the way Angel’s gaze was on my lips, almost like he…

  Someone cleared their throat.

  “This is a game among friends,�
� Red’s voice boomed out assertively, “Whatever we do, we do together.”

  Shit. Did he know what Angel and I had been about to do? And if so, then did he mean…

  And damn if the dampness between my legs wasn’t getting downright distracting…

  He couldn’t honestly mean…

  I swallowed thickly.

  What else could he mean? Back there that first time I’d met them all, what if my woozy head hadn’t contributed to the aura in that room?

  What if right now, I was in a room with three men who would gladly take me… together or otherwise?

  Together. The word crackled heat threw me. Heat that ebbed into ice cold.

  What the actual fuck was up with me? I’d never really considered being into… that. And yet, the idea was so bad, so wild. And right now, seemingly so possible.

  “Ignore him.” Angel’s breath was hot in my ear. “We can do what we want tonight.”

  I nodded shakily. That was the thing, though.

  What did I want?

  The realization sent a horrible pulse through me: me, them, our bodies twisting together.

  Fuck.

  “Do we have to bowl for you?” Kohl asked, a note of amusement in the gruff tone.

  I forced my mind back to the present.

  “I’m going,” I said.

  “If you want a tip,” Angel said. “Try pointing your foot in the direction you want the ball to go and look there.”

  I nodded. Sounded easy enough, though I guess I’d see in a few seconds. “I shouldn’t be this shitty, though. I used to go all the time with my sister. We had this place that was close to our house, so when mom and dad would…”

  I trailed off, realizing I was blabbing since I was nervous about the whole three hot cops and me thing, then just went for it.

  My ball went straight into the gutter. Everyone laughed appreciatively.

  “Next time I’ll help,” Red declared. “Some hands-on adjustments might do it.”

  Hands-on adjustments… I shivered deliciously.

  As I went to sit down, Kohl had pulled Angel aside, though. He didn’t look happy.

  “Just me and you,” Red said, his gaze unwavering.

  “Yeah, and?” I asked, forcing my voice into nonchalance.