Parker (Striking Back #3)

by S. M. Shade

  Mason shakes his head. “You didn’t destroy it, that psycho did. I bought her a new one. That one’s yours. Evie loaded it with those dirty books you two like to read.”

  “They aren’t dirty. They’re romantic,” she argues with a grin. “Thank you!” I really didn’t need to know she reads dirty books.

  “It was all Evie,” Mason replies.

  “Uh-huh.” She isn’t fooled for a moment.

  “I need to talk to you about something. I’d like you to consider letting us move you to a safe house that’s farther away. There’s much less chance of Mr. Pearson locating you there.”

  My entire body burns with anger. I just told him no. He’s going over my head, trying to talk her into it. “I told you…”

  “And I want to hear it from her,” Mason says, his jaw tight.

  Macy’s hands twist in her lap. “How far away?”

  “Clarksville, Tennessee. It doesn’t have to be forever, just until he’s behind bars.”

  “You don’t think I’m safe here?”

  Mason runs his hands through his hair with a sigh. “For now, but I’d feel better if we put more distance between you.”

  Macy looks him in the eye. “Between me and Al, or me and Parker?” I can’t suppress a grin watching her challenge Mason.

  “Both,” Mason admits, glancing at me.

  Macy’s voice is firm as she responds. “Parker has taken very good care of me through all of this. I trust him.” Macy shows him her palm when he starts to interrupt. “If there’s no news on Al in the next week, I’ll move to Tennessee. Until then, I think you can leave two adults together without worrying we’ll turn into horny teenagers.”

  “Fair enough,” Mason grumbles, shaking his head at me as he moves toward the door. “I’ll be checking in.”

  “Bring Ev next time. I’m sure Macy would like the company,” I reply, locking the door behind him.

  “What an ass,” Macy quips.

  Laughing, I flop onto the couch beside her. “Are you ready to binge on American Horror Story?”

  “Absolutely.” I’m nearly knocked out by the sunny smile on her face as she hands me a donut and curls up on the couch.

  * * * *

  I manage to keep my hands to myself over the next few days, well mostly. We seem to end up cuddled together on the couch every evening for our nightly movie, but it’s completely innocent. So what if I end up with a completely innocent hard on?

  A few hours after Macy goes to bed, I hear a noise, a little whimper. Shit. She must be having another panic attack. She hasn’t had one for over a week and I was hoping she never would. I ease open her door, trying not to wake her if she’s just making noises in her sleep.

  My feet are nailed to the floor at the sight in front of me. She doesn’t see me in the shadows or notice the door is open. Maybe because she’s topless with her panties around one ankle, her head thrown back while her fingers plunge and rub between her legs.

  My cock instantly turns to stone, straining against my pajama pants when her low moan turns to a gasp. Her fingers move to her clit, and as if my night couldn’t get any better, she moans, “Yes, Parker.” It’s a sight I’ll never forget, Macy’s slender sexy body writhing as she comes with my name on her lips.

  If I had any doubt that she’s been struggling with the same urges I have, it’s gone now. That was amazing, fantastic, fucking awesome. If I was a chick I’d write about it in my damn diary. I’m still standing in the doorway, gawking when she sits up to pull her panties back on and shrieks, “Parker!”

  Damn, I’m frozen, stuck like a deer in the headlights, staring at her headlights. Stunned by the beauty and sensuality of what I just witnessed. “What the fuck? Get out!” she yells, jerking the blanket to her neck.

  “I…sorry…I thought you were having a panic attack.”

  “So you stayed to watch! Get out!” Moonlight streams across her outraged face, revealing the fierce blush that sweeps across her cheeks before she turns and buries her face in a pillow. I can’t walk away or she’ll never face me again. She’ll be calling Mason first thing in the morning to get her out of here. I have to find a way to smooth this over.

  She groans when I sit on the bed beside her. “I wasn’t spying on you. I thought you were panicking or having a nightmare and came to check on you.”

  “I know. Please go away.”

  “It’s really dark. I couldn’t see anything.”

  “Liar,” she mumbles, her voice muffled by the pillow. “You going to try to tell me you couldn’t hear anything either?”

  “Not a thing.” Except the cock stiffening sound of her moaning my name.

  “Parker, I’m not mad, just please go back to bed.”

  “I know you aren’t pissed, you’re embarrassed, and we need to get past it right now or you’ll avoid me for days.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Nope.” I scoot closer to her and lay a hand on her hip. “Not going to happen. So, what can I do to convince you it’s no big deal? I know, we can make it even. You can watch me stroke my poker.”

  “Oh my god. Stop.” I can hear amusement in her voice, though her face is still hidden in a pillow.

  “What? I’m just saying, if you watch me fist my mister, you might feel better.”

  “You have to shut up,” she says with a giggle. “Christ, who has that many names for it?”

  “Doll, making the bald man cry has been my favorite pastime since I was eleven. I have endless names for it.” Her hair is soft under my fingers when she lets me turn her head away from the pillow, allowing her musical laughter to fill the room. “That’s better. So you were diddling your skittle, it’s no reason to be embarrassed.” I have to tease her a little.

  Laughing, she tries to shove me off the bed. “Hey, it’s okay to love your muppet, baby, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “You really need to grow up,” she replies through her giggles.

  “Fine, we’ll use scientific terms. You were participating in digital clitoral oscillation.”

  “If you shut up right now and forget this ever happened, I’ll forgive you.”

  “Deal.” She doesn’t hesitate to snuggle into me when I put my arm around her. I can feel her body heat through the blanket wrapped tightly around her small form. “I’ll never forget it, you know that, right?”

  “Just go to sleep. You can clear your snorkel in the morning…without an audience.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  I wake alone in Macy’s bed and take a second to wallow in her scent. After what I saw last night, I may never wash these sheets again. She allowed me to hold her all night, so I hope that’s a sign she won’t freak out on me today. I’m amazed how well I sleep when she’s cuddled with me. I’ve always found it uncomfortable and hot, but with Macy, it’s perfect.

  After searching the house for her, I find her on the back patio, sipping orange juice and chatting with Devon. “Good morning,” I chirp, winking at Macy. I love how I can make her blush.

  “Morning,” she mumbles, trying to give me a condemning look, but falling short.

  “Well, I’ll get back to my post. It was nice talking to you, Macy,” Devon says, leaving us alone.

  “So, any plans for today?” I ask Macy.

  “I thought I’d bring my laptop out here to work. The sun feels good, and I have a manuscript to finish.”

  “I before E except after C?” I tease.

  “Or when sounding like A as in neighbor or weigh,” she adds, making me laugh.

  “Never heard that part. I’ll leave you alone to work, but after lunch, I want a rematch.”

  “Someday, you’ll have to accept Scrabble isn’t your game.”

  “Not today, doll.”

  Chapter Five

  Macy

  I try to act like nothing happened, like I get caught masturbating by the guy I was fantasizing about all the time. True to his word, Parker never mentions it, but there’s an amused glint in his eye, and hi
s mouth twitches into a teasing smile before he reigns it in. We haven’t crossed over that friend line, but the chemistry between us is making it damn difficult.

  I’m perusing the fridge, trying to decide what to make for lunch when I hear Parker curse. By the time I hobble to his bedroom, he’s moving full speed, frantically shoving his wallet, phone and keys in his pockets. His eyes are wide and terrified as he says, “Macy, you’ll have to stay here with Devon for a while. I’ve got to go.”

  “What happened?”

  “I have to meet Alex at the hospital. Mason’s been shot and they don’t know if he’s…” His voice falters and he rubs a palm over his face. “Shit. Someone has to stay with his son, Cody. I’ll take him to Striking Back and Ms. Den can watch him,” he murmurs, thinking out loud.

  I can feel his struggle to hold it together when I wrap him in a hug. “Let me. Leave Cody with me. I want to help.”

  Stepping back, he studies me a minute. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.”

  He must run a hundred other scenarios through his head before he agrees. “I can take you to Mason’s to stay with him, get Devon and Jensen to go with you. Mason’s house is as secure as mine.”

  “Give me two minutes to grab my stuff.”

  Five minutes later, we’re flying down the interstate, escorted by a police car with lights and siren blazing. It must be nice to have friends in high places. Parker shakes his head when my question shatters the silence. “Do they know if he’ll be okay?”

  “All they’ll tell me is he’s in surgery. He has to be okay.” His voice drops to a mumble. “He has to.”

  “He’s strong. I’m sure he’ll pull through.” We both know that’s bullshit. Neither of us know what will happen, but it’s just one of those things you say. An attempt to comfort when there’s none to be found.

  “I’ll call as soon as I can.”

  “Don’t worry about me and Cody. We’ll be fine.” I don’t spend much time with kids, but I’m sure I can handle a five year old for the night.

  * * * *

  Cody is a sweet kid and we spend the day coloring and playing with Legos. “When is Daddy coming home?” he asks when I tell him it’s bath time. Parker told him Mason had to work late, so I stick to the story.

  “I don’t know. Probably after your bedtime, honey.”

  “But he always reads me a story.” His little face is pinched with worry.

  “I’ll read you a bedtime story. Do you have a favorite?”

  Nodding, he climbs into the bath and dumps a container of plastic army men in the water. “Lorax.”

  “I love that story.”

  “Really?” His eyes squeeze shut as I wipe his face with a washcloth.

  “I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees,” I recite in a low voice, and his face lights up.

  “I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues,” he adds, grinning.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. “I’m going to be right outside the door, okay?”

  “Parker?” I breathe, accepting the call.

  “Yeah, is everything okay?”

  “We’re fine.” I sit with my back to the hallway wall where I can watch Cody play. “How is he?”

  “He made it through the surgery, but they still can’t say which way it’ll go.” The pain and fear in his voice puts tears in my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry. I wish I could do something.”

  “They’ll know more tomorrow. Will you be okay with Cody tonight?”

  “Of course, take all the time you need.”

  “Thanks. I…got to go.” His voice trembles and he hangs up before I can reply. I stay seated in the hall, watching Cody play while I get my emotions under control.

  “Are you okay?” Devon’s voice rumbles as he slides his considerable bulk down to sit beside me.

  “They still don’t know whether Mason will pull through.”

  “I heard.”

  “Parker is a mess, and Cody keeps asking where his dad and Evie are.”

  “We’ll know more tomorrow, then maybe he should know his dad is in the hospital. He’s a bright kid. He’ll know something is wrong.”

  We sit quietly, watching Cody play with his toy soldiers. “Did Mason get shot because of my ex? Did this have something to do with him?” My chest burns as I wait for an answer. Parker will never forgive me if my past causes his brother’s death. I’ll never forgive myself.

  “No. He was on a routine call to relocate a client. The husband showed up and shot him. It had nothing to do with your case.”

  “Thank goodness,” I sigh with relief.

  “Are you okay, Macy?”

  “I’m stronger than I look.”

  “I don’t doubt that, girl.”

  Cody is asleep before I get halfway through his story, curled up with a big blue stuffed rabbit. After staring at the T.V. for an hour, I tell Devon good night and head to Mason’s guest room. The bed is soft and luxurious, but I toss and turn for hours, worrying about Parker and Mason.

  I don’t know Mason well, but I know how close the brothers are. They’ll never be the same if he doesn’t make it. And Everly, poor Ev must be a mess, and I hate that I can’t be there for her like she has been for me. Fucking Al is ruining everything, affecting everyone.

  I do my best to keep Cody occupied and happy the next day, but I can tell he knows something is wrong. When I tuck him into bed the second night, he asks, “Did my dad leave me?”

  “Of course not,” I reply, smoothing my hand through his hair. “Why would you ask that?”

  “He’s never gone this long, or Evie either. Are they really coming back?”

  “Yes, baby. I don’t want you to worry. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Your dad got sick at work and he has to stay at the hospital for a little bit.”

  “With the doctors?”

  “Yes, the doctors are working to make him better. Evie and Parker are staying with him so he won’t be alone. I’m going to stay and take care of you until he’s all better, okay?”

  “Okay. Tomorrow, will you help me make a card for him?”

  “That’s a great idea, honey. We’ll do it after breakfast.”

  Thin arms wrap around my neck. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?”

  “Of course I will.” I lie down beside him and by the time he dozes off, I’m right behind him.

  Murmuring voices bring me out of a light sleep. It takes a moment for my blurry sight to adjust to see it’s just past three a.m. Careful not to disturb Cody, I ease out of bed and down the hall to the living room where Devon and Parker are talking.

  Parker looks like hell and my stomach churns with the fear he’s back because Mason died. “I’m going to take a nap before I go back to the hospital,” he tells Devon who nods and leaves us alone.

  “How is he?” I ask, following Parker to Mason’s bedroom.

  “The same.” As if I’m not there, he strips down to boxers and sits on the edge of the bed. His monotone speech and stiff robotic movements betray his exhaustion and despair.

  When the light from the bathroom illuminates his hand, I can see it’s bloody and swollen. “Parker! Your hand!”

  “It’s fine. Go back to bed. Cody gets up early.” With his good hand he pulls back the covers and flops into bed. I know better than to argue or question a man who is so upset, but I can’t let him go to sleep with what could be a broken hand.

  Without a word, I return to the kitchen and find an ice pack. I wet a clean cloth with warm water and retrieve a first aid kit from the bathroom. “I said it’s fine, Macy,” he sighs when I perch on the edge of the bed and gently wipe away the crusty blood from his knuckles.

  Ignoring him, I clean the scrapes and swab them with disinfectant before placing the ice pack on his hand. “Can you open and close your fist?”

  “Yes, it’s not broken. I know what broken bones feel like.” I want to ask who or what he hit and the question must be reflected on my face because he mumbles, “It
was just a wall.”

  Tears shine in his eyes as he looks away, and it tears at my heart to see him this way. He’s always so positive and determined. Bossy and in control. He’s the one who needs protecting tonight.

  After all the times he’s comforted me, I don’t hesitate to crawl into bed beside him and wrap an arm around his middle. For a minute or two we just lie there in silence until he whispers, “The doctors think he’ll live, but they don’t know why he won’t wake. They think…brain damage.” His voice breaks and he turns to hold me, burying his face in my neck.

  “Oh Parker, I’m so sorry.”

  When he gets himself under control, he sighs, “I’m exhausted, but I can’t stop thinking about him. I’ll never sleep.”

  “Well, Cody has a wide selection of Dr. Seuss books. Just please don’t choose The Lorax. I’ve read it five times already.”

  I’m rewarded with a small chuckle. “Just talk about something else. Anything else,” he pleads.

  “Okay, how about I tell you about the time I stopped an armed robbery?”

  “With your ninja skills?” he scoffs.

  “Do you want to hear it or not?”

  “Mmm Hmm.” He embraces me tighter, and I lay my head on his shoulder.

  “It was a couple of years ago. I went to a convenience store to get a snack and when I got to the counter, a man in front of me pulled a gun on the clerk.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, he kept screaming and the clerk was terrified because he couldn’t get the cash register open. The gunman finally yanked the whole register off the counter and started kicking it until it finally popped open.”

  I have Parker’s attention now, and I try not to smile as he listens closely, held rapt by my story. “He was pissed because there wasn’t much cash and demanded the clerk open the safe. The poor guy was shaking so hard, I doubt he could’ve opened the safe if he knew how.”

  “I’ll bet. Weren’t you scared?” Parker shifts his arm, and I feel his fingers in my hair as I continue.

  “Terrified. I tried to walk out, but he pointed the gun at me and made me stay still. Anyway, there was a display of canned peaches by the counter, so when he turned back to the clerk, I grabbed one and bashed him in the temple.”