Finding Home with You

by Claire Raye

  “I haven’t been with anyone since I met you,” she says and the shocked look on her face tells me that’s not what she was planning to tell me.

  I smile, an unexpected feeling of relief flowing through me, at both her admission and the fact that she wants this, despite how scared I know she is. “Neither have I, Red,” I tell her. “And I’d really like to keep it that way.”

  “You would?” she asks nervously.

  “Erin,” I say, leaning closer so my mouth is only inches from hers. “When I’m in, I’m all in.”

  “Really?”

  I close the gap and press a light kiss to her lips. “Really. And babe,” I add, kissing her again. “I am sorry about last night…the whole Finn thing.” Erin pulls back, her eyes meeting mine. “Truly, I’m sorry,” I repeat. “It won’t happen again.”

  She looks at me as though she isn’t sure she can believe me. Just when I’m about to tell her again, she nods and whisper, “Thank you,” before leaning in to kiss me again.

  Lunch at the pub is fantastic. It’s on the river and even though it’s too cold to sit on the balcony outside, inside there is a huge stone fireplace that sits right in the center of the room. We grab a table by the window and spend the afternoon laughing and talking. The ladies volunteer to drive home, so Beck and I sample the wide range of beers they have and by the time we’re rolling out of there, the sun has long gone.

  When we arrive back at Beck and Kelsey’s place, we say goodnight, me promising I’ll see them both again very soon. And as I slide onto the passenger seat of my SUV, laughing as Erin has to adjust everything so she can drive it, I can’t help but wish I really could stay here forever.

  “You okay there, Detective?” Erin asks, glancing over as she backs out of their drive.

  “I will be soon,” I say, leaning over to kiss her as I slide a hand up her thigh.

  “You’re drunk, aren’t you?” she says, laughing as she half-heartedly swats my hand away.

  “Maybe,” I say. “But I’m still hot for you.” I slide a hand under Erin’s sweater, cupping her breast in my hand as I pinch and pull her nipple through her bra. I smile as she gasps before shooting me a wicked look.

  “Ryan,” she warns.

  “What, Red?” I murmur, my mouth on her neck now.

  “I am trying to drive here,” she says, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “And it is your car.”

  I laugh, nibbling and sucking at the skin just below her ear. The moan she lets out takes my semi-hard dick to full-blown hard and I’m wondering if I can wait until we get home. This town isn’t big, but the way I’m feeling right now, I really need to be inside this woman.

  “How about you stop driving and pull over?” I whisper, my eyes on the dark turn-off up ahead.

  Erin giggles, squirming in her seat as she indicates for the turn off. My hands are already out of her sweater and I’m undoing the belt and buckle of my jeans before she’s even got us in park.

  “Well then, Detective,” she says, her voice all sexy and seductive. “Now that I’ve pulled over as ordered, what are you going to do with me?”

  I grin back at her, sliding my hand across her cheek. “How about you climb on over here beautiful girl?”

  Erin smiles back at me, undoing her seatbelt before she slides over, straddling my hips. My hands go to hers, itching to undo her jeans so I can pull them off, but I stop, my hands sliding up her body to her cheeks instead.

  Because in this moment, in the silent darkness of the car, something changes. Suddenly, I want to tell her everything. About how I feel and what I want and where I see us going.

  “Erin,” I murmur, knowing, even in my drunken state, that this is dangerous ground I’m treading on right now.

  “Yeah?” she whispers nervously.

  My thumb strokes her cheek. “I want to be with you,” I whisper, having no idea where these words are coming from or why I’m saying them right now. It’s far from romantic and deep down, I know they’re words she’s afraid of.

  “I want to know you,” I continue, my words a whisper. “I want to know everything about you. I want…”

  “Ryan,” she murmurs, almost pleading as she leans down and kisses me. I groan as her mouth meets mine in a hard kiss. My hands slide into her hair now, holding her against me, even as a voice somewhere in the back of my head tells me I need to dig deeper and find out what it is she’s so scared of.

  Chapter Eight

  Erin

  Ryan’s words replay in my head, I want to know everything about you, but that isn’t true; it can’t be. Because like everyone else that has come and gone from my life, once he knows, he won’t stick around. The situation is too precarious, too unpredictable.

  Somehow Kelsey and Finn have stuck it out, but luckily for them nothing major has happened, and to be honest nothing major has ever happened to me personally. But I can feel it coming; people have been killed because of my father, money laundered, and lives uprooted; including mine.

  It’s been years since I’ve had any direct contact with my family, and most of the time I just lie and tell people my parents passed away or that they’re divorced and it was messy. None of this is true, but it protects people from the truth.

  Yet as my relationship with Ryan becomes more serious these lies won’t cut it, and Ryan is more aware than most people given his job.

  He’s distracted right now, as I straddle him in the passenger seat of the car, and I hope he doesn’t notice the change in me. I hope he can’t see the worry that I feel is written all over my face.

  I pull away from him and bury my face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath and wonder if the way he smells will always make me feel this safe. I return to his mouth, kissing him softly on the lips, I let the calm I now feel wash over me.

  “I think you’re drunk,” I whisper with my lips nearly touching his and I feel him smile against me. “I also think we should go home.”

  “I am a little drunk,” he murmurs back, his eyelids heavy and speech slurred just a little. “But you’re about to ruin all the fun.”

  I laugh, returning to the driver’s seat even though Ryan is trying to pull me back. “Listen here, Detective,” I say sternly and it earns me a cheeky smile from Ryan. “You have to be at work tomorrow morning and…”

  “No, you listen here, Miss Connelly,” Ryan says interrupting me, but he fails to follow through with whatever threat he was going to attempt and I shake my head at him. He’s hopeless. “You’re right,” he says, conceding almost immediately. “I actually have to go to work tonight.”

  “You didn’t tell me that,” I respond, trying to hide my shock and disappointment.

  “I know. I didn’t want to ruin our day together,” he says, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my palm. “But I got a text earlier and I need to go back. I’m sorry, Erin.”

  He’s right; it would’ve ruined our day because I would’ve been thinking about him leaving the entire time.

  “It’s that big case we’re working on,” he continues. “I’m sorry, babe.”

  I nod because I know no matter how much I want him to stay the night, his job and this case are important. He hasn’t told me much about it, but from the little he has said, I know it’s been something they’ve been working on for a long time. I know he can’t afford not to go back for whatever is happening back in Boston.

  We arrive home and Ryan strips off his clothes and heads for the shower in the hopes of sobering up before his drive home.

  I make my way to the kitchen, putting a frozen pizza in the oven and a pot of coffee on, because Ryan’s going to need all the help he can get to sober up and stay awake.

  After a few hours, several slices of burnt pizza and many cups of coffee, Ryan is dressed and ready to head back to Boston. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t totally devastated, but I try not to show it.

  Ryan leans back against the sink, his hands resting on ei
ther side of him. Dressed in a pair of fitted jeans, a blazer, and a tight gray sweater with his hair styled messily and his beautiful chiseled face staring back at me, I giggle.

  “What?” he asks with a look on his face that seems almost annoyed.

  “Do people really take you seriously? You look like a fucking GQ model.”

  “Yes, Miss Connelly, people take me very seriously.” His eyes are on fire now as he pulls back his jacket revealing his holstered gun and a set of handcuffs. “And if you don’t believe me, I might just have to handcuff your beautiful ass to the bed and show you just how authoritative I can be.”

  “If only we had another hour,” I murmur back, winking at him.

  “Another day, Red. Another day,” Ryan says as he holds his hand out to me. When I put my hand in his, he gives me a gentle tug until I’m in his arms. We stand like this for what feels like forever and Ryan whispers in my ear, “Don’t get pissed at me, my little minx, but I’m gonna miss you.”

  I giggle and press my mouth to his before I walk him out to his car. Ryan’s hand is warm in mine as the cold air hits me causing goose bumps to rise up on my skin and I shudder a little.

  It’s late, nearly ten p.m. and the town of Rockport has long since gone to sleep. The only sign of life is the sound of the waves lapping at the shoreline behind my house. It’s peaceful, and it’s why I moved here.

  It won’t take Ryan more than an hour to get back to Boston at this time of the night, but I still tell him to be safe and to text me when he gets to the station. I don’t care how late it is, and even if I don’t get his text until the morning, it will still make me feel better.

  We try not to drag out our good-byes, but it still happens and finally after at least ten minutes, Ryan is backing out of my driveway. I watch his taillights disappear down the road as a slow sadness washes over me. I stand outside, letting the cold air settle on my skin as I listen to the waves. I’m waiting for this feeling to pass, waiting for the grip that clutches at my heart to ease up.

  As I stand there something cuts through the silence, a car, the tires moving slowly along the road, and I smile for a second, but that fades when I don’t recognize the car.

  It stops short of pulling into my driveway and the driver cuts the lights, stepping out of the vehicle. Even through the darkness of the night I can feel this person’s eyes on me, watching me.

  My heart begins to race, launching itself into my throat as I throw myself back into my house, slamming and locking the door behind me. I run and grab my gun and my phone, and that’s when the pounding begins.

  The person on the other side of my door doesn’t say anything at first, just their fist banging against my door and echoing through the silence. It’s meant to scare me and it’s working. I’m fucking terrified.

  It feels like it goes on forever.

  Boom.

  Boom.

  Boom.

  My hands are shaking and I can feel the tears fall from my eyes, but no sound leaves my mouth. I’m paralyzed with fear. I know I should call someone.

  Finn.

  Beck.

  Ryan.

  Anyone at this point, but I can’t pull myself together. My body begins to lose all sense of control as I collapse on the floor. I’m not usually like this and I need to respond, need to let this fucker know that I’m not afraid, but my own fear has made me a different person.

  “Open the door!” the voice yells now, and a sob leaves my lips. “I know you’re home. I just saw you.” And the pounding begins again, but I know that in order to make this stop I need to respond in some way. Whether it’s calling Finn or calling the police or opening the door, I need to get it together.

  I suck in a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself and then I dial Finn’s number. He picks up on the first ring and I immediately feel a sense of relief when I hear his voice.

  “Erin,” he bites out before I can say anything. He knows.

  “Someone is here,” I choke out, my voice weak and shaky.

  “I’m on my way.” The line goes dead, but I don’t hang up, holding the phone in my sweaty hand, I stare at the blank screen. I’m debating whether or not to call Ryan.

  He’d want to know, but I have no idea how to explain to him that I’m terrified of a man knocking on my door. It sounds ridiculous because someone with a normal life would either open the door or ignore it.

  As I’m processing what to do, I see Finn’s headlights flash through my front window and I let out a long slow breath.

  I can hear Finn’s deep voice ask the man what he’s doing and in an unexpected turn the man answers casually. He doesn’t flee to the safety of his car; he doesn’t try to run, so I open my door and find the two of them standing on my porch.

  As soon as the door opens, the man says my name and hands me a large manila envelope.

  He’s not nearly as scary I assumed he would be, dressed in a pair of jeans and a Boston Red Sox hoodie, he looks like anyone you would meet on the street.

  He asks if the name on the envelope is me and I look down at it, knowing it is, I nod my head.

  “You have been served with a subpoena to testify before a grand jury in the trial of William Fitzgerald,” he says blankly, his voice flat and I say nothing in response. I knew this day would eventually come, but I still thought I could somehow avoid it. “Should you choose not to testify you could be held in direct contempt,” he continues and after that it all becomes a blur.

  I’m no longer listening because this has become my worst nightmare. I’m being summoned to testify against my father, to tell everything I’ve kept hidden for years and it’s about to fuck up my world.

  “You’re a hard person to find, Erin Fitzgerald,” he says cutting into my thoughts. “That name change threw me for a loop, but it was your total lack of any online presence that was the real struggle. You are a nobody now.”

  I haven’t spoken to him and I won’t. I have nothing to say to this man, because I know he’s just the messenger. This is just a job for him; he has no connection to any of this and he has no idea how much I will be affected by this.

  He wishes me well and leaves, climbing back into his car and disappearing down the same street I watched Ryan drive down just minutes earlier.

  Finn runs a hand through his hair and lets out an exasperated sigh. He’s as sick of my shit as I am. I don’t blame him. He’s been the only one I fully confided in, the only one who knows how real this shit is about to get.

  He’s the first one to speak as we walk back into my house. “This changes a whole hell of a lot,” he says, sounding just as confused by the situation.

  Having to testify against my father opens up more chaos than I ever thought possible. When you come from a family like mine you don’t tell people your secrets, you don’t tell people on the outside anything. And if you do, there are usually some serious repercussions because of it.

  It’s only a matter of time before my father finds me now, and his people will begin to show up. They will threaten my life and anyone who attempts to help me. It’s why, to quote the servers words, I became a nobody.

  “It does,” I respond. “I don’t blame you if you want to bail on me. I get it. This is a shit situation and now you’re wrapped up in it.”

  “It’s all good, Erin, but I need you to tell Ryan. I can’t help you beyond what happens here in Rockport, but he can. He knows people.”

  Finn is one hundred percent right, but involving Ryan means involving someone else in this mess. Finn is in deeper than I expected, but this trial makes things so much worse.

  I learned a thing or two over the years from my father. It’s why I was able to fade into the background for so many years. It’s how I was able to change my name, go to college, land a job and purchase a home all without a real identity.

  At eighteen I pulled every penny from my trust fund and laundered it through fake businesses I started using multiple aliases. This is where Finn go
t involved. He called in some favors and helped me speed the process along, and he also purchased my home using money I gifted him through Kelsey and the Rockport Beach Inn.

  Involving Kelsey and Finn was not something I wanted to do, but I had no one else, and I was trying to separate myself from anything to do with the Fitzgerald name. I honestly thought it had worked pretty well up until now.

  Now, it’s all about to come crashing down and I hope I don’t end up taking Finn and Kelsey with me.

  And now I know I need to get Ryan involved, but I don’t even know where to begin.

  Chapter Nine

  Ryan

  The drive back to Boston seems to take longer than usual and it’s got nothing to do with the late hour. The roads are empty and I know at this rate, I’ll be back at work in half the time it normally takes me. It’s more that every mile I put between Erin and me feels more like twenty, and I have to force myself to keep going and not just turn my truck around and go back to Rockport.

  Having to leave her all the time. Being apart from her, no matter how short a period of time that is, is starting to get ridiculous. I miss her more than I ever expected to and funnily enough it’s got nothing to do with us being naked. Yeah sure, the sex is amazing, but being with Erin is so much more than that. Now more than ever.

  “Jesus, Ryan,” I say to the empty car. “You have it bad.”

  The sound of an incoming text chimes out and I grab my phone and open the message.

  Joe: what’s your ETA? Looks like it’s going down tonight.

  “Fuck,” I say, slamming my hand on the steering wheel. I hit the call button and Joe picks up immediately. “What the fuck is happening?” I shout.

  “Got word from one of the informants,” he says, his voice tense. “The deal got moved to tonight, fuck knows why, but the Captain made the call, we’re going in. How far away are you?”