No Rep

by Vale, Lani Lynn

The doorbell rang, and I knew without a doubt that the person on the other side of that door was him.

  He knew.

  I wasn’t ready for him to see me as a broken person. I wasn’t ready for him to treat me like a porcelain figurine. I wasn’t freakin’ ready to lose him!

  And I knew I would.

  Sure, he would be sympathetic. He now realized who I was to him. How he knew me.

  I knew before my sister moved a muscle that he wouldn’t look at me the same anymore. That’d been why I’d been avoiding him, after all.

  But this? This was definitely going to change everything.

  He would think, oh, that’s sad. Then he’d go about protecting me, smothering me like every other person in my life who knew about the almost-rape and assault that I’d endured at the hands of a madman.

  He wouldn’t be able to see past it.

  “What’s wrong, doll?” Mavis whispered.

  I swallowed hard and twisted the paper around in her hands and showed her the article, feeling a sinking sensation in my heart.

  “Oh, shit,” she rasped after scanning the headline.

  Vlad, who was in her arms eating, shrieked with protest when neither one of us moved to feed him the rest of his breakfast.

  “Sorry, bud,” she whispered, sounding hoarse.

  I felt her pain.

  I was fucked.

  “He’s going to come after you,” she breathed.

  I felt fear course through me again at her concurring with my previous thoughts.

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  “No.” She sounded fucking shattered. “We just got over him.”

  Him being Jackson Norris, a thirty-four-year-old investment banker that should’ve been an upstanding pillar of society.

  On the outside, he was. On the inside, he was a monster bigger than anyone I’d ever experienced in my whole life.

  Once the depth of his depravity—his satisfaction and enthusiasm in murdering women that turned him down for dates—came to light in that courtroom, it was horrifying.

  He’d murdered over a dozen women in a year and a half. All of the women, according to him, had turned him down for a date. Every single one of them but me had met the same fate.

  Every one of them but me.

  But I’d been able to fight back. And Taos had been close enough to save the day.

  Though he didn’t know just how many ways in which he’d saved me.

  “You’re going to have to tell him,” she whispered, echoing my thoughts.

  I cleared my throat, wanting to make sure it came out sounding sturdy.

  It wouldn’t do to have her thinking I was a mess.

  Even though I was.

  “I have a feeling he already knows.” I sounded remarkably unaffected.

  Her eyes sharpened. “You’re okay with this?”

  The doorbell rang again. Again, we both ignored it.

  I wasn’t. How could I be?

  “No,” I admitted. “I’m fucking pissed as hell. I mean, who does this woman that wrote this article think she is? Where did she even get her sources?” I paused. “Does it mention it in there?”

  She knew what ‘it’ was without me even having to explain.

  “No,” she admitted. “She’s either very new to the city and the area, or she’s trying to at least save you a little bit of face.”

  My guess was she didn’t know. That was too juicy of a subject to forget to mention like that.

  “Or she’s planning to put that particular information into another article,” I grumbled.

  “Or that,” she agreed. “I wish that I had a different answer for you. But, since your man is particularly unobservant, or wishes not to think about why he knows you so well as he does, doesn’t mean the rest of the city is that unobservant.” She winced. “But I might’ve blown that little top off when I talked to him at the gym. I mentioned Grandma.”

  I shook my head. “I changed my name back, Mavis. My last name now matches yours. There’s no way he never made that connection. I just… we never talked about it. So I never thought it needed to be brought up. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t know.”

  After the very publicized trial, I’d gone out of my way to distance myself from the ‘Pope’ name. To the point where I’d legally dropped “Pope” and used my middle name as my last name. It was too freakin’ noticed when we were young. Oh, you’re a Pope? Please, come to the front of the line.

  Oh, you’re a Pope? Please, take the beating heart right out of my chest. I don’t think I need it anymore.

  Honest to God, it’d been a breath of fresh air for everyone to talk to me, Fran, instead of Francine Pope, the girl that owned half the freakin’ world.

  The girl who, with her sister, had lost her parents at a young age, and had practically been raised by her grandmother who fucking hated her guts.

  My grandmother was still living and breathing. Still just as much of an asshole as she’d always been.

  Still pissed that I would drop the name that she’d worked so hard to build.

  What she didn’t know was that it was hard to use that name when you were young. People expected things out of you that you didn’t want to give. And if you didn’t meet their standards? They spread the word that a Pope had failed.

  It was exhausting.

  At least Francine Pope wasn’t a lie to Taos.

  I hadn’t exactly offered up that information—me being filthy rich—but I hadn’t hidden it, either.

  I mean, he’d seen the house that I had paid off. He didn’t see me hesitate in buying whatever I wanted. And who the hell could buy five-hundred-dollar shoes like I’d bought with him and not blink unless it was someone that had the money to spend?

  Sure, I had a shitty car.

  But that was just because I didn’t want to hear my grandmother bitch and complain about the car that I chose.

  In the end, I was using her own hand-me-down. She couldn’t complain about that if she was the one who originally picked it out.

  “I know who she is.”

  Mavis and I both shrieked.

  My heart literally exploded out of my chest at the unexpected arrival of Taos.

  By the time I realized that I wasn’t about to be assaulted, I was on the floor with my hands covering my head.

  “Well, that was fucking stupid,” Mavis snarled at Taos.

  “Shit,” Taos whispered.

  I felt his hands then prying me off the ground and tucking me into his arms.

  I couldn’t stop the shivers that rocked through my body.

  There were just too many things going wrong lately for me to be nonchalant about the unexpected arrival of a man in my house that’d been locked.

  Still knowing it was him should’ve been a relief to my hyperaware nerves.

  It wasn’t.

  Not yet, anyway.

  The shock and the adrenaline that’d mainlined through my system was still holding control of me.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He rocked me.

  I heard Vlad shriek again and then Mavis say, “I’m sorry, buddy. I gotta get you a new spoon.”

  That was because I was holding the other one in a closed fist and pressing it into my hair.

  Even the thought of having to wash my hair again wasn’t enough for me to let it go.

  I didn’t know how long either of us sat there. Him wrapped around me. Me pressed into his body heat, shaking and, later I’d come to find out, crying.

  It had to be at least twenty minutes because, when I finally came to—panic attacks blew—it was to find the kitchen significantly darker, Vlad no longer in the room, and my sister glaring daggers at Taos who was quietly talking to her in reply to something she must’ve said or asked.

  I let go of the spoon, which loudly clattered to the floor, causing the conversation between two of the most important people in my life to come to a screeching halt.

  I brought my hands down to rest between Taos and me, and then turned m
y face so that I could inhale the familiar scent of him into my starved lungs.

  I’d missed him over the last two weeks.

  He’d said that he wasn’t going to have to deal with the murders anymore now that the FBI agent had arrived, but he’d lied.

  When he wasn’t working at the gym, he was poring over the murder investigation.

  Not that I could blame him.

  But I’d missed him over the last two weeks.

  Especially since I hadn’t had very much of my own time to myself.

  Vlad and Mavis had practically moved in with me when Mavis and Vlad had been sick.

  I wasn’t aware of the man wrapped around me moving until he tilted his head down and I saw the look in his eyes.

  “Hey,” he whispered gruffly.

  I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head, his eyes telling me how stupid he felt before the words left his mouth. “I’m sorry. That was stupid of me.”

  I snorted. “My guess was you were really worried.”

  He sighed. “I was. I saw that article in the newspaper and came right over. When you didn’t answer, my thoughts went totally sideways, and I just knew I’d come in here and find you…”

  Dead. He thought he’d come in here and find me dead.

  I sighed. “I’m fine.”

  He made a humming noise in the back of his throat. “I think you should move in with me.”

  I blinked, totally dumfounded by what had just come out of his mouth. Tilting my head back, I caught his eye. “Um, what?”

  “I think that you should move in with me.”

  I opened my mouth with something to say that started with the word ‘hell’ and ended with the word ‘no,’ but Mavis decided to put her two cents in, interrupting me before I could get the words out.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Mavis declared. “Seeing as this is your fault she’s on their radar to begin with.”

  I sighed and pushed away from Taos’ chest. “It is not his fault, and you know it.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Be the reason someone drinks today.

  -Text from Taos to Fran

  TAOS

  Mavis continued to glare at me, pissed as hell that I’d just caused Fran to have a panic attack, and not bothering to hide it.

  “It’s somewhat my fault,” I admitted. “Last night, there was a reporter there, and I told her to go fuck off.”

  The woman who’d pushed away from my chest burst out laughing.

  That was much more preferable to her tears.

  “You?” She snickered, wiping her eyes. “I would never expect that from you.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… she pissed me off. Kept talking about how we were taking a long time to solve these murders, as if it’s all our fault that this motherfucker knows what he’s doing. And then she proceeds to tell me that I am the reason that we’re not getting anything accomplished. Because ‘I have a new girl’ that I’d rather spend my time with than solving these cases.”

  Mavis drew in a swift breath. “What?”

  “Somehow, she knew that you were a part of all of this.” I shook my head. “I’m not sure which officer told her. I’m not sure I really want to know, because if I knew, I’d kick his fucking ass, but someone spoke about you. How you fit into all of this. And then she concocted that shit story. I’m sorry, honey.”

  She sighed. “I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t have spoken up about this if I could have. I mean… maybe this is a good thing. Maybe him thinking that he screwed up, left a witness, will make him screw up for real. Maybe…”

  “Maybe you’re dumb.” Mavis rolled her eyes.

  Fran flipped her off, going as far as to put her finger right in her face.

  Mavis slapped Fran’s hand away and said, “Don’t treat this as a joke, Fran.”

  Fran grumbled something under her breath, then scrambled to her feet using my thigh as leverage.

  I came up much more slowly than she, catching her before she could stalk out of the room. “Where are you going?”

  She whirled in my arms and poked me in the chest. “To pack.”

  My lips twitched, and I couldn’t stop from placing my lips to hers.

  “Okay.” I reluctantly released her.

  Fran made sure to shoulder-check Mavis as she left the room, leaving me alone with a very upset sister.

  “I’ll watch out for her,” I promised.

  Mavis narrowed her eyes. “You better.”

  “I’ll never leave her alone,” I promised.

  “You better not.” She crossed her arms.

  “When I need to do something, I’ll call you. Or Madden. Or someone. I promise. She’ll never be alone,” I repeated myself.

  Mavis sighed. “Don’t call Madden.”

  My lips quirked up. “Why?”

  Mavis sighed again. “Because I don’t think I want to be around him at all right now. And if my sister is around him, I’ll be forced to be.”

  I didn’t bother arguing with her.

  In fact, instead of doing any of that, I went to Fran’s bedroom, surprised to find her emptying out her drawers.

  “Coming for the long haul?” I teased.

  Fran looked at me and flushed. “I just… I have a lot of workout clothes. And I’ll need workout clothes, and regular clothes, and pajamas, and I don’t know how long that I’ll have to be there so…”

  “It’s okay,” I teased. “I was just kidding.” I paused. “If you want to go ahead and move in permanently, you could.”

  She looked at me in surprise. “Really?”

  I opened my mouth to deny it, but then realized that despite my joking nature, I really wouldn’t mind her moving in with me.

  “I definitely wouldn’t mind having you there,” I told her honestly. “Then I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to you every night because you’re too scared that I’m going to get tired of you.”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it. “I-I just don’t want… I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  My lips quirked at one corner. “If I thought that you’d overstay your welcome, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay,” I told her honestly. “Baby, I’m a pretty open and honest man. If I feel like you need to know something, I’ll tell you. If something is bothering me, I’ll tell you. If you’re doing something that’s getting on my nerves, I’ll definitely tell you.”

  Her lips quirked.

  “And if I need some time alone, I can just go to the gym. Or go to my office which you’ve yet to follow me to. Or, I’ll just plain ol’ tell you I need a break,” I informed her. “But the same goes for you. If you need a break, tell me. I’ll give you a break. If you want me to go fuck off, tell me. I’ll go fuck off. That’s the point of communication.”

  Fran rolled her eyes.

  “And while we’re on the subject of being honest, I know who your grandmother is. Everyone knows who your grandmother is, because she’s a fuckin’ bitch. Trust me when I say the name Pope is very symbolic around here. There’s no way that I wasn’t going to know who you were related to.”

  She snickered. “I’ll bet your grandmother is way nicer than mine.”

  I smiled then. “There’s no fuckin’ doubt in my mind that she is.”

  • • •

  “I want you to meet her,” I said as I helped her bring her things into my house.

  After driving around for the last half an hour, making sure we kicked all the reporters that thought to follow us, we finally arrived at my home.

  Not that it would be a secret for long.

  It wasn’t unknown with the town that Fran and I were seeing each other.

  I was sure, rather quickly, news would spread that she was staying at my place.

  There was no way that I could keep it a secret with my nosy neighbors.

  “Are you sure that it’s not too soon?” she asked quietly.

  I grinned. “Sleep on it. And if it bothers you because it’s too
soon, how about you think about the fact that there’s a serial killer out there? You can say that you’re staying until this motherfucker is caught. For now, I have other, more enjoyable topics.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  I ripped my shirt off over my head, then went to start on the jeans.

  Her eyes went down to where I was slowly popping each individual button out of its slot, and she licked her lips.

  “I’ve missed you these last few weeks,” I mused as I got to the end. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  Her eyes flicked up to mine.

  “I…” She paused.

  “Have been avoiding me,” I repeated. “You’re dodging my calls. You can only meet me for a short amount of time. Is it because I picked the case back up?”

  Her eyes were pulled from the V that made up the muscles to my pelvic region to my eyes.

  Her eyes said it all.

  She was scared.

  And not because of what happened today. But scared in general. Maybe of this feeling that I knew that she felt right along with me. Maybe of me in particular. I didn’t know. But I wanted to find out.

  She sighed when her eyes stayed glued to mine for a long time. “I don’t know how to do healthy relationships. I don’t want to smother you with my desire to be around you twenty-four seven. And I don’t want you to get tired of me, because I really, really, really like you. And I want you to keep liking me as long as possible.” She paused. “And I’m kind of scared that you’re going to start pitying me because of what you learned of the assault.”

  I moved fast, pulling her into my body, pressing mine into her lower half.

  “Does that feel like I pity you?” I rasped, pressing a soft kiss against the base of her throat, right in that little hollow between her clavicles.

  I made sure to twist my hips to allow her to feel my ‘non-pity.’

  Her breath hitched. “You can pity me and still want me… like that.”

  I scoffed, licking a line up the length of her throat to right underneath her chin. “I don’t feel pity for you,” I informed her. “I feel anger for you. Passion for you. Need. Desire. Want. I’m pissed that you didn’t tell me. Sad that I don’t get to see you every day. Mad that you keep ditching me because you think that’s what I want. But I most definitely don’t feel any damn pity for you. Not when you’ve persevered. When you’ve turned into this person that overcame a huge obstacle and made you into the woman that I see today.”