I Stole His Car (Love at First Crime Book 1)

by Jessica Frances

  I nod, leaning my head back against Zander and appreciating the feel of him more than ever. I wipe at my eyes, but more silent tears fall down my face to replace them. “That’s twice I thought you were dead. Two times you’ve cheated death,” I tell him, my voice shaky.

  “I was sure I had lost you, too. Let’s not do this again to each other, okay?” He squeezes me to him. His words are light, but his meaning is heavy.

  “Okay.”

  The sirens are louder now, and it is only minutes before the first police cars scream to a stop by us.

  We are told to put our hands up, and Zander has to put me down as he tries to explain what is going on. Meanwhile, more police arrive, as well as two fire trucks. I can’t see any ambulances, but later I’m told they had them waiting at a safe distance until the scene is deemed safe.

  I did indicate there was a bomb, fire, and a hostage situation. Plus, they heard a gunshot on the end of my call before the now dead man stomped on the phone and killed the line.

  I internally groan at the mess I made by telling so many lies over the 911 call, and about the fact that there is no way this nightmare is going to be over anytime soon.

  Once the scene is cleared and things begin to be sorted out, I am subjected to an unbelievable amount of questioning. Not only at the warehouse, but also at the nearest police station. Zander and Declan are taken away, too, but at least the women are being seen to by EMTs and taken to hospitals. I doubt their mental health will likely ever be the same, but their bodies will heal.

  We got to them in time.

  The rest is a blur. Questions, more questions, and finally a doctor comes to check on my injuries. I only have bruises and some scratches, nothing dramatic, but they at least add more evidence to my story.

  I’m separated from Zander, but as soon as I am allowed to see him again, he tells me Jerry released part of the videos, sending the parts where Brian is visible to every police station email so there is no hiding that he was not a good guy.

  I haven’t heard how he is doing and I really don’t care. I hope his penis drops off and he spends the rest of his miserable life in prison.

  It is almost a full twenty-four hours before we are finally allowed to leave, and I’m dead on my feet.

  Joey picks us up, and I vaguely remember getting into the backseat with Zander, Declan ranting about something from the front seat, before I rest my head on Zander’s shoulder and am fast asleep.

  The next moment, we are outside of Van’s new bedroom at Sasha’s parents’ house. He’s jumping up and down in his excitement to see me.

  “Van, please calm down. She’s sleeping. I just wanted you to see that we’re both fine. We’ll be going back home soon,” Zander hisses, torn between being annoyed and wanting to be quiet.

  “But it’s midmorning. Can’t we go home now?” Van pleads, keeping his voice down.

  “Not yet.”

  “Can we wake Ava up and do something?”

  “No, she needs her sleep, buddy. So do I. Sasha told me she’s going to take you out later. She wants your help buying a game console.”

  “She does?” Van breathes the words out, and I know he’s way more excited about this news than the thought of waking me up.

  “Yeah. Can you help her for me?”

  “Hell yeah!” he quietly cheers. “Is she going to buy games, too?”

  “I’m sure she will, and she’ll need your guidance.”

  There is a moment of silence before the air turns heavy again.

  “Are you sure Ava’s okay?”

  “She’s fine. And later tonight, if Ava’s up to it, we’ll get pizza for dinner.”

  “Yes!” Van forgets to soften his voice, and it jolts me a little at hearing the loud outburst.

  “Quiet,” Zander cautions. “Go into the kitchen; Sasha has a late breakfast waiting for you.”

  I stay quiet, not wanting to alert Van to the fact that I’m awake. I’m not sure I’m ready to face him yet, though I am glad he seems more like his old self again.

  Zander was so close to dying yet again, and Van was incredibly close to losing the last member of his family again. Let’s hope he never realizes how close that came to be.

  Zander carries me into the bedroom we were using previously. “You need to shower and change out of these clothes,” he tells me, obviously aware I am feigning sleep.

  I nod and let him lead me into the bathroom. He doesn’t close the door and none of the desperation from the last time we were in here together is present. I just feel tired.

  He methodically strips me, only pausing to glare at a new bruise or injury displayed. Then, once I am naked, he does the same to himself.

  As he heats the shower water up, I stare at the dark bruises covering his temple and forehead. They look angry, sore, and I doubt they will be disappearing anytime soon. Every time he looks into the mirror, he will see Ken’s betrayal.

  He’s lucky those hits didn’t do worse damage. He could have easily suffered brain damage or even death from those blows.

  Just how much luck do we have? Will it be enough to get us through whatever else is coming for us? Or, are we in the clear now?

  “What happened to Ken?” I murmur, my voice croaky from all the talking I did while being interviewed nonstop for hours on end.

  Zander’s eyes narrow in anger at the mention of his name. “He made it back to his place to find me missing and an undercover police car waiting for his return.” He walks me into the shower and under the water, the warm spray soothing my aching muscles. “Turns out, he stopped off at a bar to get drunk. I suppose I should be flattered that he didn’t think he could dispose of my body sober.” Zander’s fury is obvious.

  I rub my hand over his chest in the hopes of giving him comfort. “It’s not your fault he turned out to be a bad person.”

  “I had no idea he was in financial trouble. I should have checked in with him more. I didn’t even know Imogen had left him until a few months after she was gone. I never bothered to ask her why she left. I figured it was just a byproduct of losing their son.”

  “This isn’t your fault,” I repeat.

  “You know he didn’t even have a clue about any of this shit. First he heard of it was when I called him. Then he just used the information I gave him to contact Brian and the assholes in on it with him, and they worked up a deal. If I had never called him, he would have never gotten himself involved.”

  “A good cop doesn’t do what he did. You might have placed him in front of the door, but he chose to walk through it. If he didn’t do it with this, he would have done it another way. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

  He nods, letting his head run under the spray before he steps back and soaps up a loofah. Then he washes me clean, and I do the same for him.

  There is no fun or flirting this time. No lingering touches or teasing kisses. Instead, I feel clean, well taken care of, and safe. It’s what I need. I even allow Zander to dry me with a towel once we step out of the shower.

  With damp hair, he walks me over to the bed and pulls the covers away. Both naked, we climb in as a bone-deep tiredness takes over. With his arms around me, I fall asleep, wishing his arms were enough to ward off the bad dreams.

  But they aren’t.

  I wake up crying. I wake up screaming. I wake up with images of those cages and the state of those poor women. I dream of myself being tortured; of people I know and care about being hurt while I am helpless. Sometimes, I awake and don’t remember what I saw or heard. I just know my heart is racing and I’m scared.

  Zander can’t stop these images from coming at me, yet he does hold me every time I wake up, offering soothing words and promises that everything will be okay. It’s enough to calm me, keep me in his arms, and go back to sleep.

  For the next three nights, he does this, even with us back in his apartment.

  Van has gotten over his panic from our quick escape from the apartment and the drama that followed. No nightmares and no l
ingering issues present themselves. He settles back into the final days of school while Zander takes me back to my own apartment to collect some of my things.

  He told me I will be staying with them for the time being. I don’t argue, because I don’t know how I will handle being alone.

  Brian didn’t spend much time in my apartment, but what memories do live there are enough for me to know I can’t spend another night there. Therefore, I need to search for a new place to live.

  I’m not sure what is happening with Zander and me. He keeps me close when he is home, but during the day, he gives more statements to the police, and he and Sasha are currently searching for a new office space.

  I have been told I will be needed to testify when things end up in court since I was abducted and taken to the building they were keeping the women. I agreed because, what else could I do? I want to put this behind me, but I can’t let this pass without making sure I do whatever I can to ensure this never happens again.

  ***

  It’s on the eighth night back at Zander’s that things shift between us.

  He gets home late, which is unusual after only early nights this past week. I can’t help worrying about him, aware that the danger is over for him, yet this world isn’t a safe place.

  He slips into bed, and I turn onto my side to face him, feeling his hand seeking mine out under the covers.

  “Hey,” he murmurs.

  “Hi.”

  “Thanks for dinner. The pot roast tasted amazing.”

  My response is swallowed up when I feel his fingertips lightly touch my thigh, moving the material of my nightie a little to expose some skin.

  My breath hitches, my skin flushes, and while the touch might be perfectly innocent, the fact that we haven’t done anything more than kiss since before I was taken pushes my body into hyperdrive at just the thought of more with him.

  “I think we might have found a perfect office space today,” he says conversationally, and I try to pay attention to his words when his hand floats a little higher up my thigh, his pressure remaining light and almost ticklish.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yep. And I made another decision today.”

  “What is that?”

  Now he touches my hip where my panties sit. There is no mistaking when he moves to the front of me and slips his hand down into my panties and cups my pussy.

  I gasp, moving onto my back so he has a better angle, and my legs immediately open for him.

  “I think you should stay here until after the trial … just in case.”

  His words send a spike of fear through me.

  “You think I’m in danger? Do you think they’ll come after me? After us?” I blurt out, moving back to my side and making him lose his grip as I lean over him.

  “No,” he quickly assures me. “You’re safe. We’re all safe. Nothing is going to happen.”

  “Then why do you think I should stay here?”

  “Because I want to do this to you every single night, and it will be hard to do that without you sleeping next to me.” He finds purchase again, slipping a finger inside me.

  “Oh …” I lamely reply, my mouth remaining open as I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation of him penetrating me.

  “So, do you agree?”

  I try to think about what his question was. What am I agreeing to?

  “Just until the trial?” I confirm as he rubs his thumb over my clit, eliciting a groan from me.

  “Yep. The trial might take months, perhaps even years to get through. Then, after that, we can properly discuss moving in together,” he explains, slipping another finger into my channel, and I grind my hips to get some friction.

  “Show me exactly what you plan on doing to me every night,” I demand, loving the smile he gives me in response.

  “It’ll be my pleasure.”

  It turns out, it’s both of our pleasures.

  This time when his cock enters me, it isn’t fast, it isn’t quick, and it isn’t full of desperation. But, it is no less passionate. He moves slowly, lovingly, and with precision so I feel every inch of him as he brands me.

  It is magnificent.

  His tongue makes love to my mouth as his cock makes love to my pussy, and as cliché as it sounds, I know this is the exact moment I fall from in lust with Zander, from in serious like with him, and go headfirst into being in love with him.

  No one has ever made me feel so alive, so taken care of, and so loved.

  When I climax, it is with tears in my eyes and love in my heart. It is the most beautiful moment in my entire life.

  I’m emotionally spent by the time we finish, our breathing heavy and my body riding on cloud nine. Nothing could be better in this moment. Then Zander begins to kiss down my neck.

  “That was an incredible first round. Now on to round two.”

  Okay, now it’s the best moment of my life.

  Epilogue

  One year later…

  I have learned many things about myself over this past year. Many I wasn’t sure were good things, like being nosy and selfish. Still, I surprised myself in the end. I discovered I am stronger than I knew, braver than I thought possible, and my taste in men isn’t all that bad, since Zander has turned out to be a winner.

  I went through an ordeal not many people understand, and my life has only gotten better since. Like how I have grown and found someone to grow with. Plus, my web design business has taken off, and my life now feels full and happy. I’m not the same person I was one year ago.

  I also realized I am incredibly stubborn and competitive. Both attributes Van has helped bring out in me.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Van asks, his cocky smile so similar to Zander’s that it makes me pause.

  Can I actually do this?

  I lost the last eight times I challenged him, but I have gotten closer each time to winning.

  “Yep, I’m ready.”

  “Same reward as the last times?” he checks, and I nod.

  The reward being the loser has to clean up after dinner. It probably doesn’t sound like the biggest deal, but it’s worth it enough for Van to keep putting it up, and it doesn’t cost me any money, so I’m not going to argue.

  “Okay, I’m pressing the button,” he warns, clicking the elevator button, and I watch as the lights slowly glide downward to ground level.

  “When I win, I’m going to cook something so complicated that I use every dish we own,” I taunt Van, who appropriately pokes his tongue out at me.

  “Hey, babe,” Zander calls from behind me, closing his car door just as the elevator door dings and opens.

  “Don’t distract me!” I yell out at Zander, not even bothering to turn around to look at him. Instead, I sprint into the stairwell, letting the door slam shut behind me as I race upward.

  I leap three, sometimes four, steps at a time, grabbing the rail to help propel me upward and nearly take out a man when he startles me.

  “Out of the way!” I scream at him, not caring how rude I sound.

  I’m completely covered in sweat as I pound the last few steps and launch myself through the doors on our level and take the few steps to slam into our door.

  A second later, a ding echoes and Van rushes through, his shoulders drooping when he sees I made it first.

  “I won,” I huff, not even sure if they are audible words.

  “Rematch!”

  “No way.” I shake my head. My legs feel like jelly, and my heart is thundering in my chest. I doubt I will ever be able to make that feat again.

  Zander soon follows up at a slow jog, shaking his head at me and smiling at how put out Van looks.

  “You’re not really going to make something that uses every pot and pan we own, are you?” Van’s voice is a mix between pleading and whiny.

  “Yep.” I nod. The last thing I feel like doing now is standing in the kitchen and making something complicated and likely ridiculous just to use up every dish, but a promise is a promise. Ma
ybe I can just make a mess in them all without really needing to use them …

  “No way. Zander! Let’s get takeout! Please!” he begs.

  “This one time, I’m going to have to agree with Van,” he tells me, reaching out so he can help me to my feet.

  “What? No way!” I complain, sounding a lot like Van.

  “We’re celebrating tonight,” he informs us both. This is when I notice the high energy surrounding him, as well as the grin he can’t seem to get off his face.

  “We are?” I ask.

  “Yep.” Zander takes out his keys and opens the door, letting us in first before closing it behind him and placing his keys on the side table. I drop mine there, too, and let him lead me into the open space, watching as he turns back to face me, still smiling huge.

  “Celebrating what?” I press, quickly thinking back over our recent days together to see if I can jog any memory of whether he was working any big cases or not. Maybe he closed one?

  “Is this going to be an anniversary thing? ’Cause I don’t want to be here if that is the case. I’ll take my pizza to go and sleep over at Jeb’s,” Van quickly says.

  I redden in embarrassment, knowing why he doesn’t want to be here if that is the case. Van has most definitely not walked in on anything or seen us in any compromising positions, but he did overhear us once.

  I was mortified, and even Zander was a little embarrassed. Van being the little shit he can sometimes be, asked us a million embarrassing questions about what the moans meant and why I was suddenly so religious.

  We had ourselves tied up in so many ridiculous lies and stories that just telling the fake excuses was embarrassing.

  I like to sometimes call out to God in the middle of the night …

  I stubbed my toe so I was groaning …

  I had to call Ava’s name because she was having a bad dream, which also explains those moans …

  I was asking what she wanted for dinner this weekend and everything I suggested was a yes …

  I wanted him to know I was coming to that barbeque thing Sasha was putting on …

  That then meant Sasha had to put a barbeque lunch on, which was a weird thing to ask her to do while not explaining why we needed one.