Ruthless (Crescent Cove: Viper Force Book 2)

by Marlie May

  The deputies soon crossed the lawn and joined us in the drive.

  “And?” I asked as they stared at each other for a long moment.

  “Nothing,” Deputy Franks said. “Looked around from top to bottom. I also checked out your power situation. Changed a fuse in the basement. Should fix it for now, but your brother’s right. That panel outdates my parents.”

  “I’ll call an electrician when I return from my upcoming conference,” Mia said.

  “Your back door was unlocked,” Deputy Cousins said, his gaze focused intently on Mia.

  She gasped. “I locked it. I lived in a city before moving here and …” She shook her head as if dispelling a bad memory. “I’ll never leave myself exposed.”

  The word “again” hung in the air between us. Flint had mentioned something bad happening to Mia in Massachusetts. We’d only known each other a short time but I ached to protect her, tell her she’d come to no harm, ensure her face never pinched with fear again.

  “Take a look around tomorrow, make sure nothing’s missing,” Deputy Franks said. “But I’d say you must’ve scared them away before they could either vandalize the place or steal something.”

  “I’ll look.”

  “Let us know if you find further evidence of the break-in, and we’ll come out right away. Look into it.”

  “What about my mirror?”

  Deputy Franks tilted her head, studying Mia’s every movement. “Mirror was clean.”

  “That’s impossible. Someone wrote on it in red…Well, I know it wasn’t blood. Maybe paint? It was a number one.”

  “You sure?” Deputy Cousins asked. “Maybe your eyes were playing tricks with you?”

  No way. I opened my mouth to defend Mia, but she beat me to it.

  “Don’t feed me that ‘maybe you imagined this, little lady’ crap. I’m one-hundred-percent certain someone was inside my house, that they wrote the number on my mirror.” She pulled her phone and scrolled into it before thrusting it forward. “See?”

  Deputy Franks leaned forward. “I don’t…”

  Mia growled and huffed at me. “I wouldn’t make something like this up.”

  “Didn’t think it for even a second,” I said, my arms linking on my chest. The glare I fed Deputy Cousins made his fidgets still. “We’ll look around once we’re inside. I’m sure we’ll find evidence.” I’d for damn sure look around. I trusted the local law, but only until my own eyes had investigated the scene would I feel Mia was actually safe.

  “You’re not leaving me alone,” she said softly.

  I loved the complete relief in her voice, knowing I was the cause.

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  “I think this is it, then,” Deputy Franks said. “Call us if you find anything suspicious, and…Don’t forget to lock your doors.”

  “They were locked,” Mia ground out.

  Deputy Franks lifted her hands, shifting a glance at the other officer. “I believe you.”

  But did she?

  We watched as they got into the vehicle and drove away.

  “I’ll get Walter,” Mia said. She paused with her hand on the door. “You…I understand if you want to get back to your place. Get back to bed. It’s the middle of the night. And…”

  The tremor in her voice was my undoing. I stroked the curls off her face and squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll stay until morning if that’s okay with you. You got a couch?”

  “I do. And thank you.” Relief pouring through in her voice, she opened the door and lifted her cat into her arms and nuzzled his neck. “Come here, you big brute. How’s momma’s little kitty boy?” She kissed his face.

  Was it possible to be jealous of a cat?

  Inside the entryway of her house, Mia dropped Walter on the gleaming hardwood floor and locked the front door. The cat blinked up at me. Her. Me again.

  “I’ll get the back door, too,” Mia said.

  “Let me.” I nudged my chin down the hall. “In that direction, I assume?”

  “Yes. My bedroom’s on the back right, the kitchen’s opposite.” She tilted her head toward the left. “Living room’s here. And I’ve got a study on the right—that’s where Walter was locked inside a cupboard.” Hugging her waist, she shuddered. “I’m so grateful they didn’t hurt him.”

  After giving her a quick hug, I stepped back. “Wait here?”

  “I’ll be on the sofa.”

  I did a quick scan of the living room and study because no way in hell would I leave her here while someone might lurk, ready to jump the second my back was turned. Then I searched the house from top to bottom more thoroughly, not leaving an inch uninspected. As the police indicated, there was no evidence of theft. No hint that anyone had searched her belongings or done more than lock the cat inside the cupboard. Mia would have to look around before we could be certain nothing had been stolen, however.

  The study cupboard had scratches on the inside where the cat had tried to free himself after being trapped. Whoever violated Mia’s house had snagged the animal and locked him away. Animals were good at alerting their owners, and whoever had been inside must’ve wanted to remain hidden.

  Or they’d wanted to draw Mia from her bedroom. The certainty of it ground through my bones, making me hyper-alert, ready to take the person down to keep them from scaring Mia again.

  I returned to where she waited.

  “Anything?” she asked softly. She’d drawn a handmade quilt over her lap and Walter nestled against her side, his eyes mere slits, purring as she stroked his neck.

  Definitely jealous of the cat.

  “Nope. But we’ll look around again tomorrow.”

  “What about my mirror?”

  I shrugged. “Looks like a normal mirror to me.”

  She flung aside the quilt, making Walter glare. Mia darted from the room and down the hall, returning seconds later. “You’re right. I don’t understand.” Defeat colored her voice as she slumped back on the sofa, her hand returning to Walter’s side. “Hold on.” She pulled her phone and scrolled into the device before turning it my way. “I don’t know why Deputy Franks thought this was nothing. What do you make of it?”

  Settling on the sofa beside her, I took her phone.

  “I took a picture before I left the house.” She leaned into my side, her sweet scent filling my senses. “See the red slash?”

  This wasn’t a slash; it was distinctly a number, as she’d stated outside.

  One.

  “First strike,” I hissed out.

  Mia shuddered and reeled away, staring at me. “What does that mean?” Utter panic filled her voice.

  This was bad. I refused to meet her eye. “Absolutely nothing.”

  She bumped my arm. “Evasiveness is not a good look on you, Eli.”

  “Okay.” I sighed and turned to her, cupping her face because I couldn’t help it. I was eternally grateful she didn’t pull back or tell me she didn’t welcome my touch. “I think this is your first warning.”

  “A warning about what?” She shivered and held up her hand. “No. I know. This is a warning to me. What a horrifying thought. First? As in, there will be more.” She pressed her fist against her mouth, her green eyes wide above her hand. “And after three strikes, I’m…out?”

  Growling, I gathered her into my arms. “Not a chance with me around.”

  7

  Mia

  “I’ll take the sofa,” Eli said. He lifted the quilt, pausing to stroke Walter, who purred as if he hoped Eli would do it forever. Strange, because my shy cat rarely came out when someone new was around, let alone let them touch him.

  However, I could well understand him enjoying Eli’s lure. His comfort and his warm arms wrapped around me had meant the world to me tonight.

  “You sure you’re okay with me staying here?” he asked when I remained silent.

  “No objection from me.” I hated the shake in my voice even though, with Eli here, I had no reason to be afraid. Terror about what could’ve happ
ened tonight kept plunging through me, making me quake. A creepy person had entered my house while I slept, trapped my kitty boy in a cupboard, then crept into my bedroom and written a threat on my mirror. While I was here in the house with them! My heart flipped and sweat broke out on my forehead all over again. Shuddering, I paused with my hand on the doorframe between the living room and the hall. “I’ll get you a pillow. More blankets.” How was I going to walk down the hall, enter my bedroom alone, and actually fall asleep? Forget sleeping. I’d lie awake and stare at the ceiling, jumping at every creak and groan released by my old house.

  “Thanks.” Eli dropped down onto the sofa. Like Flint, he was tall. Well over six feet. Short, my sofa wouldn’t be comfortable but what else could I offer him? “You take my bed. It’s a king. I’ll sleep on the sofa.” I didn’t have a spare bedroom, though I planned to put a sofa bed in the study eventually.

  He patted the cushion beside him, and Walter playfully batted his hand. “No way. This is fine.”

  Sure, then why did he grimace?

  I linked my arms across my chest. “I insist.”

  He chuckled. “Insist all you want, honey, but I’m taking the sofa.”

  “Okay,” I said in defeat. Short of dragging him down to the hall then leaping onto my furniture before he retook possession, what choice did I have?

  Walter stared at me from where he snuggled up to Eli, much like I wanted to do.

  For safety.

  If I knew more about him…Well, I’d be crazy to offer him a place in my bed, even though it wouldn’t be for sex. I wouldn’t consider anything like that until I knew him a lot better. Assuming I got to know him better.

  Lots of ifs in this equation, and he hadn’t even asked me out again. Which he might not do after I’d turned him down. For all I knew, he was seeing someone else.

  My growl slipped from me as I leaned against the doorframe. Turning him down was coming back to haunt me.

  I liked Eli. Liked being with him. I had when I’d been in California helping Flint, and nothing had changed since.

  Did I dare let another man into my life? If he still wanted in.

  “I’m a light sleeper,” he said softly, breaking through my whirling thoughts.

  My smile leaped onto my face. “I’ll try not to snore, then.”

  He snorted. “Me, too.”

  I glanced back at him. “Do you snore?” Why was I quizzing him about something like this? It was intimate business, and we were just friends.

  He chuckled. “Guess you’d have to sleep with me to find out.”

  I studied his face, which gave away nothing. “Suggestive.”

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “I’m a suggestive kind of guy.”

  My heart flipped. I could take this conversation as interest on his part, right? Should I ask if that was what he meant?

  Earlier, I’d been willing to invite him over for cookie tasting. Which was suggestive on my part.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.

  Fear kept me grounded. Eli couldn’t know the uncertainty swirling inside me. The irrational worry that told me I could never trust any man enough to let him into my life.

  How could I put this into my past where it belonged, and move forward?

  My stinging eyes told me I was too tired to contemplate this tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough to figure out what I wanted and discover what he might be offering.

  With a brief wave, I left him, walking down the hall and climbing into my bed, pulling up the covers.

  The door, I left open.

  As expected, sleep wouldn’t come. While I was scared someone might creep up on me the moment I closed my eyes, I also couldn’t stop thinking about Eli.

  Russell and everything he’d done to me shoved itself back into my mind.

  I hadn’t been a part of the dating scene in years, having been too busy during medical school and then establishing my career to consider going out with someone. Then I met Russell at a coffee shop. We’d gone out for months before he said he wanted to move in with me.

  Then the controlling behavior began.

  Where were you? he’d ask. Work was always my reply. Where else would I be? A new doctor worked twenty-six hours a day. Whenever I had a speck of free time, I wanted to sleep.

  Who were you with? Co-workers. Other doctors. Nurses. Patients.

  Male? Naturally. It was a hospital, not a nunnery. Female patients, too, I’d said, hoping this answer would help him feel better.

  Feel better. As if it was my job to placate him, assure him he had no reason to doubt me.

  I’d been a fool. I should’ve told him to move out immediately, but he’d been kind at other times—especially when friends, family, and coworkers were around. Everyone liked him and a few expressed envy. Russell could be featured on GQ. He came across thoughtful, by showing up at my work with flowers, small gifts, or just to say hi. On the surface, he’d seemed like a perfect man. Only when I’d scratched deeper had his true identity burst through. I’d convinced myself time would allow his confidence in me to grow, that he’d relax and stop quizzing me each time I walked through the door.

  Things had escalated…

  “I have to work with men,” I’d said. How could he expect me to avoid every man in my life?

  I don’t like it. Words that at first came across as vulnerable on his part. As if it hurt him to think I might flirt, let alone cheat while living with him.

  Some might consider jealousy flattering. Except it could wrap itself around your neck like a noose, tightening each time he pressed for answers. I hoped he’d come to realize he had no reason to doubt me. Yet my faithfulness was never acknowledged because it wasn’t about me. It had never been about me. It all rested on him and his inability to acknowledge his controlling behavior.

  In the last six months of our relationship, the demands had become physical. Yanking me near as if he thought I wouldn’t otherwise hear him yelling. Slamming around our apartment. Breaking furniture in his rage.

  And lifting his hand, though it didn’t—yet—connect.

  Everything culminated the night I stayed late to help with a five-car pile-up. The ER had been swamped.

  Where were you? A smack on my arm. You were supposed to be here by nine.

  Flinching, I’d lifted my chin and explained.

  Like I believe that? You were with someone else, weren’t you? You fuckin’ whore. His shout was sharper than a broken bottle, and his fist had stabbed out, impacting like a sledgehammer with my ribs. Unable to catch my breath, I’d gasped in pain and horror and stared up at him with tears in my eyes.

  He’d pulled a gun. Waved it around before pointing it at my head. You belong to me.

  My flesh had shriveled, and I’d cowered against the wall. Would he shoot me?

  I’d run from our apartment, leaving everything behind.

  Then I’d become the injured person showing up in the ER. While I’d wanted to hide, pretend it hadn’t happened, breathing was torture. I’d needed help. A way out.

  Photos had been followed by interviews with the cops. Me, the victim instead of the one calling the police to come in to speak with a patient. We saw it all the time. How had I not connected what so many women went through with myself?

  During the trial, it came out I wasn’t the first he’d done this to. Not even the second. I’d been one in a long string of abused women.

  A two year sentence hadn’t seemed enough punishment for him hurting me. Breaking me. Making me doubt myself when I never should. Sadly, that was all a repeat offender earned. If he hadn’t threatened me with a weapon, he would’ve gotten three months or off completely.

  Russell would leave me alone when he got out. He wouldn’t follow through on the threats he’d made as they hauled him away…

  Or Flint would kill him.

  Embarrassed by the whole thing, even though I was not at fault, I hadn’t told my brother about the real Russell until after I showed up at the ER.

>   While Flint still wanted to hover over me, protect me, I was determined to stand on my own two feet. But if a guy ever threatened me again, I’d be the one wielding a fist—courtesy of the training Flint gave me after the trial. I refused to stand mutely while a man abused me again.

  Finally, I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me.

  In my dreams, Russell chased me through the park, which was weird, since he hated nature and always joked that the pavement was the only lawn he’d ever mow. I ran along a narrow path. Up a hill, stumbling down the other side. Sobbing. Fleeing.

  So much for standing up for myself.

  He grabbed me from behind and wrenched me around to face him. His fist lifted.

  My heart burst through my chest. I screamed and tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go.

  My eyes popped open.

  A man loomed over me!

  Russell. He was here. And this time he’d kill me.

  “Mia,” someone said, breaking through my terror.

  Wait.

  “Eli?” His name burst from me in a plea. My pulse decelerated in one beat because Eli was here and Russell was not.

  “Mia,” he said again gently.

  “Yeah?”

  “You okay?” He sat on the side of my bed, and his palms lightly held my shoulders. “You screamed.”

  I sat partway up, the blankets pooling at my waist. “I’m sorry.”

  “No problem. You’re scared by what happened. It’s only natural to have nightmares.”

  Yes, but this was about more than what happened tonight. My past had intruded into my life once again.

  Dark in my room, I could barely read the concerned expression on his face. I couldn’t make myself meet his penetrating gaze.

  “It’s…not just about someone being inside my house. Locking up Walter. The number drawn on my mirror.”

  I told him everything. Because I needed to be honest. There could be no more lies between us if I hoped to move forward.

  “Fuck, Mia,” Eli said when I’d finished, his hands bunching up my blanket. “I’m sorry.”