Cooper

by Harper Sloan

  I laugh and bring my left hand up. He oh-so-delicately jerks me forward and pulls my hand closer. I can hear him humming and awwing as he gazes at it in rapture. I try to put myself in his shoes--his very tall-heeled shoes--and look at my ring from his eyes. Asher went slightly overboard, but I can't help but smile every time I look at it.

  The large, round diamond is set high on a triple band of diamonds. It's relatively simple--if you can overlook the obnoxious size of diamond sitting on those stunning, thin bands. He explained to me that he knew right away when he saw the ring that it was the one. He wanted something special, something I could look at and remember how much he loves me, but also something that would represent our son and what brought us together--Coop. So he clarified that each band stood for the men in my life. One for him, Zac, and Coop. By the time he finished telling me that story, I was crying hysterically. He just laughed and pulled me closer.

  "Your arm is going to kill you carrying that big diamond around, but holy Mr. Bojangles, it is stunning!" Sway drops my hand and spins in a circle on his heels. His blouse bellows around him as he twirls, and when it lifts in the back, I notice--with jealousy--how tight his ass looks.

  "Did you just say Mr. Bojangles?" Izzy laughs from behind me.

  "Don't you make fun of me, you sassy woman you."

  "You just make it so easy," Dee giggles.

  "Hmph. I do not," he smiles.

  We spend the next five hours gossiping, getting pampered within an inch of our lives, and watching all of the men come and go from the Corps Security offices--not a single one is one of our boys. And by the time Dee drops me off at home, my stomach hurts from how often I laughed.

  Chapter 31 - Asher

  It's killing me knowing that Chelcie is just next door and I'm not able to go see her. With all of the red tape we've been trying to fight through and meeting after meeting to brief each tactical team on everything I know, I feel like my mind is about to explode.

  We have finally finished all of our meetings today. Dominic Murphy will be going down and there isn't a damn thing that can stop it now. He has so much shit piled on the scales against him--all of the evidence I'm responsible for bringing to light. I expected to feel upset over losing my chance at vengeance, but I know that Chelcie is right. Coop would hate this, and what's important is that I'm around for my family. If something would have gone wrong and I was taken from Chelcie--just the thought kills me.

  After the last handshake from the suit from the FBI, I wait until he leaves my office--my official office--and breathe a sigh of relief.

  It's over.

  In two short days, Dominic will go down. Even though Coop's murder is my motivation in this, it feels good to know that someone as disgusting as him will be taken off the streets. The sense of pride that fills me when I think about how--or rather by whom--all of this was set in motion is all consuming.

  I'm not even upset that I won't be a part of the takedown. I don't need to be there. I don't need anything but the verification that he's behind bars when it's over. I've done my part, and in turning all my intel over, I've also guaranteed Chelcie's and Zac's safety.

  There hasn't been anything else threatening since that one letter. I instantly pulled back and stopped being so reckless in my hunt of Dom. I used the Internet to silently weave in and out of his life. Thank God, because his being clueless means that Chelcie is no long in danger.

  It's time to live our lives for the future we're building, and I can't wait.

  "You getting ready to head out?"

  I look up and take in Maddox's casual stance. "I was thinking about it. Did you see the girls leave yet?"

  "Yeah. Headed out about five minutes ago."

  "All right, so tell me why you're standing there keeping me from getting home to my woman."

  One thing about Maddox is that, when he speaks, you listen, so I know he wouldn't be here if he didn't think this was worth it. He's a man of few words, and I can respect that. And I owe him for waking my ass up when I'd needed it. I'm not sure if I would be where I am right now had it not been for him.

  He walks into the room and shuts the door behind him. He takes a few slow steps before sitting in the chair across from me. Once he's settled in, his arms rest against each armrest, his fingers laced in front of him. He doesn't say anything for the longest time, just observes me in an eerie silence.

  "I'm proud of you, brother," he finally says.

  "Thanks, Maddox. I owe it to you, you know. I'm not sure anyone could have knocked some sense into me quite like you did. You made me see the hell I was letting myself become consumed with." I look away, getting ahold of my emotions. "I wouldn't have any of this if you hadn't reminded me that there were still things worth living for. I wouldn't have one hell of a woman who is about to become my wife. A son on the way. And most importantly--with this shit we just finished up here this week--I wouldn't have peace with Coop's death."

  "I didn't do anything but remind you what's important. Far as I can see, you did all the hard work. Just remember, there are going to be days when that darkness starts creeping up on you. You can feel it starting to whisper against your skin, see it out of the corner of your eyes, and sometimes it's right on your heels. It's not easy, Ash. Sometimes it's a daily war against no one but yourself. If you need me, I'm here."

  I clear my throat and nod. He's so spot-on with how it feels when I have a bad day. When the grief and sadness of missing my brother become too much to bear.

  "Congratulations, by the way. I noticed that rock on her hand the other day. You deserve this, Asher, and she's one hell of a warrior to have in your corner."

  "That she is," I reply with pride dripping from my words.

  I wait a few moments and study Maddox. He looks exhausted. I can tell that the last few months have been hard for him. I know enough that he's been fighting Emmy to come home, but as far as details--he's been dead silent on those.

  "How are things with Emmy?" I hedge.

  His eyes flash, pain and exasperation in the forefront. "She's back, so there's something."

  He doesn't say anything else, and judging by his tone, if I pressed it, he wouldn't take that well. Whatever the hell is going on between them seems to just be getting worse.

  "You were there when I needed you, Mad. Don't go at this like you're alone, okay?"

  "It's sometimes for the best that way. I'm happy for you and Chelcie--really, I am--but Emmy deserves better than anything I could ever give her."

  I open my mouth to lay into him like he did to just months before but stop and hold up my hand for him to wait when my cell starts ringing.

  "Hey, Sunshine?"

  The grin I'm sporting has Maddox pushing himself up to stand. I notice distractedly that he seems to be moving slower than normal today.

  "Chelcie? Are you there?"

  I wait, wondering why the hell she's calling me if all I'm going to hear are some weird scuffling noises. It sounds like she dialed me from her purse or something.

  "Chelcie?" I try one more time.

  Maddox turns from where he's about to walk out of the room. His eyes are narrowed in a way that has every hair on my body tingling with dread.

  "Chelcie, please," I mutter. "Please, Sunshine."

  My stomach feels like it's full of lead. I don't move the phone from my ear as I start moving papers from my desk, looking for my keys.

  I look up when Maddox lets out a quick whistle. He holds his own keys up and nods his head towards the door. He doesn't have to fucking tell me twice. With the phone to my ear, I make my way behind Maddox.

  I'm praying over and over that my gut is wrong and that she just accidently forgot to lock her phone, but I stop dead just steps away from the front door to Corps Security. When I hear her ear-piercing scream break through the static in the line, my blood runs cold and I sprint into action.

  I reach Maddox's Charger ahead of him, waiting impatiently as he hurries to the driver's seat. He doesn't ask questions--he just thr
ows the car in gear and speeds out of the parking lot. I keep the phone pressed tight to my ear, praying to hear something else that will give me a clue as to what we're about to walk into.

  Fuck me. An image of Dominic Murphy flashes through my mind and a sob bubbles out when I think that, by not killing that bastard when I could have, I could lose everything.

  We've only been on the road for a minute at the most when I hear another voice, this one making a cold sweat break out across my skin. I can't make out her words, but I would know that fucking nasally whine anywhere.

  Sarah. Fucking. Jane.

  Chapter 32 - Sarah Jane

  It's just a matter of time now. Only time. Time is all I have, and I don't mind waiting just a little longer. I've let him have his fun.

  Eight long years of fun.

  I've been watching. I'm always watching.

  He's never had anyone like this woman. This pregnant woman. I know my Asher would never give another woman MY baby.

  I've been planning it for years. Our baby will be so beautiful. Long, silky, blonde hair just like her daddy. The prettiest eyes that you've ever seen. So blue that they looked like the clearest summer day's sky. And her lips would be full, just like her daddy, Asher.

  Yes. It has to be a mistake, because MY Asher would never let MY baby grow in that whore's body!

  I watched her walk out just this morning, her laughter making me want to slice her throat right there in front of her tall friend and the old, fat doorman.

  She's a whore. A whore that has had her filthy hands on MY Asher.

  My head feels tight again. The voices are back. They keep telling me what needs to happen next. I need to make her pay. She needs to understand that she will never take MY man and MY baby.

  After grabbing my purse, I press the button for the lower garage, where all the tenants park their vehicles. I know which one belongs to that whore. I've run my fingers all over it just imagining what it would feel like if it were her skin. So fragile when using the right tools.

  I pull the hammer out of my large bag, walking around the car a few times before deciding where to start. I slam my weapon against the headlights. Then the taillights. I use all my strength to smash it against every inch of the car's metal. When I step back to admire my art, my chest moves fast as sweat coats my skin.

  I can't wait until I can do the same thing to that whore's body.

  Before I leave, I grab the can out of my bag, walk over to her car, and lean over carefully. I wouldn't want to cut my body. Asher loves my body the way it looks, and I've worked hard to keep it slim, tight, and tan. Shaking the can a few times, I bring it closer to my destroyed carnage of that whore's car, taking my time to make sure every letter is perfect.

  I toss the can on the ground when I'm done. I don't need it anymore. The only thing I need now is that whore and my hammer.

  I press the button I need before reaching into my bag and grabbing my 'candies,' opening the bottle, and taking two for good measure. I need to remember to get more. I hate the way I feel when I'm not feeling my 'candies.'

  I make quick work of my next duty. I need to make sure that Asher has a clear path to finally come and take me in his arms. He's going to be so happy to see me--I just know it. He's been waiting so patiently for me to come and take him back.

  It doesn't take much for me to sneak up on the old coot that sits in his office all day, only coming out occasionally to say hi to the other idiots that walk in and out of his lobby.

  He's watching an old Friends rerun when I peek in the cracked doorway. I can see his master keys hanging from his belt. This would be so much easier if he were sleeping, but oh well--the show must go on.

  I use the handle of my hammer and crack it against his temple. He goes down like the dead weight he is, and I don't waste a second grabbing the keys.

  I know exactly where I need to go now.

  I've been watching. I'm always watching.

  Always watching.

  Until now.

  Chapter 33 - Chelcie

  Thirty Minutes Earlier

  "I had fun today," I tell Dee while she pulls out of the parking lot, headed back to the apartment. "But I'm exhausted."

  "You're always exhausted. Hey, how do you have sex with that big old belly in the way?"

  "Are you serious?" I chuckle.

  "Well, yeah. Does it get in the way? Or does Asher like, I don't know, bang into it? Oh my GOD! Does his dick hit the baby?"

  I look over at her, my mouth agape, trying to figure out if she's joking with me right now.

  She looks over, rolls her eyes, and stresses, "I'm not pulling your leg, Chelcie! I'm serious right now. I need to know these things. If Beck and I decide to have kids, I don't think I could give up sex. There's no damn way. But I don't want my kid to come out with a cheese head because his daddy's ding dong kept playing Whac-A-Mole."

  I burst out laughing, complete with snorting and almost choking on my spit. "Holy shit, Dee. How can you be so clueless about something that is so natural for a woman's body? No, there is no chance that the baby will have a...how did you put it? Oh, a cheese head." I snort again. "Sex isn't off-limits, but now that I've gotten bigger, we have to get more creative. I prefer doggie style. Just makes it easier with all of the pressure my body has. No need to worry, Dee. You won't have to give up sex when you get pregnant."

  She is shaking her head rapidly, looking pleased with this news.

  Wait a minute...

  "Dee?" I question.

  "Hmm," she responds, lost in thought.

  "Are you pregnant?" I hope she is. I know that she had the worst parents in the world, but she and Beck would make amazing parents.

  "What? Oh, no. Well, I don't think so at least."

  Well, damn.

  "Do you want to be?" I sigh.

  "I've just been thinking about it a lot lately. Between you, Izzy being pregnant again, Melissa with the twins all tiny and cute, it's just been on my mind more than normal. I worried when they got older and weren't all adorable babies anymore that they would be gross, but Cohen and Nate are two cool kids, so I think I'm open to it now."

  "That's good, Dee. If you want to talk about it, just let me know. Maybe sit down with Beck and see where he stands with it? Maybe he wants to wait a little while. I mean, don't you want to get married first?"

  Some people might be bothered by the fact that I'm not married and pregnant, but then again, they would probably drop dead if they knew I was knocked up with my fiance's brother's baby. To each their own--normal is boring anyways.

  "Of course I do. We're setting a date soon. Now that things have settled down, I think it's time for me to make an honest man out of him."

  We laugh together and enjoy the rest of the car ride, talking about how long we think the latest Kardashian marriage will last and the newest purses we saw on our favorite site. When she pulls up to the front of my building, we make plans for dinner next week. I wave her off and walk into the building.

  Going to wave to Joe, I frown when I notice that he isn't standing in his normal spot. Damn, this place looks weird without him standing there smiling at me. Oh well. He must have gotten called away.

  I was halfway across the lobby when I remembered that I left my laptop in my car yesterday when I went to work at Starbucks. I laugh to myself when I recall Asher picking on me because I went into a coffee shop to work when I can't even drink it. Hey, what can I say? I love the smell and it's one of the best places to people-watch.

  I bypass the button to my floor and press the one that will take me under the building to where our parking garage is located. Digging in my bag as I walk towards my car does nothing to help me find my keys. I grab my phone and stick it in my back pocket before starting my search up again.

  Feeling the cold metal, I close my hands around them and go to pull them out. When I lift my head, I freeze at what I see.

  My car is demolished. A total mess of what once was perfect. There isn't an inch of my car that
isn't covered in scratches, dings, and dents--and red...paint?

  My mind is telling me that there's no way I'm seeing this right. Maybe I'm on some sick version of Punk'd.

  Dead center of what used to be my hood is five perfectly sprayed letters.

  WHORE

  My heart is pounding in my chest, and I try to push down the feeling of helplessness as I turn and run as best as I can back to the elevator car. I jam my finger over and over on the 'door close' button. I pray that whoever did that to my car isn't about to slam their hand between the doors, cutting off my escape.

  When the doors finally close, I rub my hands over Zac's baby bump and will myself to calm down. I can't be getting this upset. I'm sure whoever did this is long gone. I bet they even got the wrong car. It was probably meant to be Wendy Westlake's car and they got mine instead. Our cars are almost identical. She has the door across from our apartment and I swear it's open later than Taco Bell. Everyone knows they stay open late.

  My body is still shaking and I can't seem to calm down. When the car dings on my floor, I make my way to our door with wooden legs. I just need to get inside and call Asher. He'll know what to do.

  My hands are shaking so badly that I drop my keys twice. Bending over is a blast when you've got a large beach ball in your front. I feel my jeans get tight across my ass, and I groan when I hear my phone start making noises like the touchscreen has been activated. I swear I butt-dial more people that way.

  I throw the door open and rush in, pressing myself against the door and letting out the breath I was holding. Now that I'm safe in my apartment, I allow my body to really start feeling the fear of seeing my car smashed and beaten. Vandalized with so much brutal force.

  I go to grab my cell from my pocket but stop dead when I see her.

  A scream escapes my lips and I feel my heart drop. Ice-cold terror is picking up speed inside my body, making me feel faint and powerless.

  She's standing in the middle of my living room with a hammer swinging in one hand, the other holding one of Zac's stuffed animals.

  I shift my weight, wondering if I could reach the doorknob and get out before she could reach me. My plans are ruined when she sees my intent and growls, "Don't fucking move, whore."