He fell to the ground at her feet, as pain seared her side. Knocked backwards, she fell against the shed, slumping to the ground. Unconsciousness descended as she heard multiple voices, all shouting and demanding, indistinguishable to her ringing ears, except for one. One lone voice pierced the others as blackness overtook her. One voice…low and deep…full of anguish…howling like a wounded animal. Brogan. She wanted to tell him she was fine. But no words joined his cries.
Ginny opened her eyes, Brogan filling her gaze. His face, ravaged, stared back at hers. She offered a slight smile before the reality of her surroundings slipped in. She was lying on a stretcher in the back of the ambulance, Zac nudging Brogan out of the way as he checked her out.
Lifting her hand toward him, Brogan leaned back in, her hand cupping his face. “Hey,” she breathed, trying to rub away the deep creases in his brow. “I’m okay.”
Gasping, his face closed the slight distance, his lips a breath away from hers, as he blinked back tears. “Fucking hell, babe. Thought…I thought…” Unable to put words to the memory of tackling Ben while watching Ben’s gun fire, he closed his eyes, a tear falling down his beard-stubbled jaw.
“Body armor works,” she said, although she did not mention the ache she felt in her side. Her thumb swiped his cheek, wiping away the moisture.
“Only if he hit you there,” Brogan rasped. “If he’d gotten you somewhere else—”
She remembered the reverberations of gunshots, but could not remember being hit. “Babe, you knocked his arm downward and saved my life. Grant got him in the leg, but it didn’t stop him. You, Brogan, you saved my life.”
He dropped his forehead to hers, his breath still ragged. Ginny tried to reach up with her other hand, but Zac had hold of it as he checked her blood pressure. Glaring, she said, “Zac, I’m fine. The force pushed me back against the shed and knocked the wind out of me, that’s all.”
“Ginny, if you think for one second that I’m going to shirk my examination of a police officer shot, much less one of my friends, you’re crazy. Hell, I’m letting Brogan get in my way as it is. Now, lay there and let me do my job.”
At that, she relaxed slightly, knowing as soon as Zac could finish, she would be able to get up. “Where’s Ben?”
“Another ambulance took him to the ER. He’ll be fine. Sam went with him and a North Heron deputy will be with them at the hospital as well.”
Shifting her eyes back to Brogan, she held his cheek closely, pulling slightly until his lips landed on hers. Soft and sweet, but she could tell he was holding back.
“Honey,” she said, gaining his attention. “Kiss me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you—”
“Brogan, kiss me like you’re glad I’m alive,” she ordered, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
His eyes widened, then narrowed slightly, as he fussed, “Oh, babe, you’ll remember that remark when I get you home, pamper you, and then get you in my bed.”
Grinning widely now, she said, “I’ll hold you to that.”
Closing the distance, he claimed her mouth, licking, sucking, delving, as he relished knowing she was alive and she was his.
“I hate being treated like an invalid,” Ginny grumbled, two days later, sitting on Brogan’s comfortable sofa.
“Shut it, beautiful,” Brogan ordered, standing in the kitchen deciding what to heat up for lunch. The community and their friends had descended the previous day, bearing casseroles, pies, cakes, platters of cut fruit, cold-cuts, homemade jams and jellies, and more things that Brogan had no idea what they were as Katelyn packed his freezer. His counter resembled a table at the county fair. Brogan had been happy for the support, but irritated that Ginny had not gotten as much rest as she needed. By the time Zac released her, she had had to fill out report after report in the police station. Mitch and Grant had taken Ben’s statement and gone back to examine Ginny’s house, which became a crime scene when they discovered Ben had ejaculated on her bed linens, and the night was gone and the morning had arrived.
He managed to get her to sleep, drawing the curtains in his room, wanting to shut out the world, as well as any peering eyes after hearing Ben’s confession of spying on them. Then he kicked out the well-wishers, telling them to come back later. He meant days later, not the next day, but hearing a knock on the door, he dropped his head to his chin.
Hearing a giggle from the sofa, he pretended to glare as Ginny smiled at him. Walking to the door, he swung it open, seeing Katelyn and his mom. Glancing behind them, he was pleased there was no one else.
Corrine stood on her toes to kiss Brogan’s cheek, saying, “Your dad and Pops went into the pub today to work with Aiden, so you have nothing to worry about there. Just concentrate on your girl.” Back down on her heels, she rushed over to Ginny, scooping her into her arms.
“Corrine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Ginny assured, seeing tears forming in the older woman’s eyes.
“My boy would not make it without you,” Corrine whispered into Ginny’s ear.
Humbled, Ginny patted her back, and reminded, “I’m here and I’m fine.
Corrine stood and wiped her eyes. Pulling herself up to her full height, which was not very tall, she announced, “Katelyn and I are here to work.”
Brogan’s eyebrows lifted as he repeated, “Work?”
“Ginny can’t go home right now—” A slight gasp from Ginny halted Corrine, who immediately turned and apologized. “Sweetie, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine. You’re right.” A shiver slid over her, noticed by Brogan who stalked to her, shifted her over, planted himself in the sofa and pulled her into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he said, “We’re gonna take care of it, babe.”
She looked into his eyes, both worry and anger filling them. “When I saw him leaving through the window, I noticed my bedspread was messy, but I was focused on the intruder. I’m so glad I didn’t really see what he had done.”
“That bed’s gone,” Brogan announced. “Grant and Mitch took what they needed for evidence, and then Aiden and Lance came and hauled the mattress to the dump.”
Her mind whirling with all that she was hearing, she focused on the one thing that did not fit. “Lance? Lance came to help?”
“He’s not much into socializing,” Brogan agreed, “but he hated what had been done to you. He called Mitch and wanted to know if he could help. Mitch sent him my way and I told him to get with Aiden and get that mattress out of your house.”
Corrine said, “That’s why Katelyn and I are here. I know you got a lot of food yesterday, and we’re going to sort that out for you. We’ll label some of it, wrap some more, freeze what we can, and set out some for later.”
“Later, Ma?” Brogan asked, his attention pulled back to the dynamo already in the kitchen working.
“Brogan, friends are going to come by. You kicked everyone out yesterday so they’ll come by today to check on Ginny.”
“She was shot. Doesn’t matter if it didn’t penetrate, she was still shot,” Brogan argued. “She needs rest and not a bunch of our friends coming—”
“Honey,” Ginny’s soft voice broke through his rant as her hand grasped his arm. Holding his gaze, she said, “I want to see our friends. This should be a celebration…I’m fine, we’re all fine.”
Ginny’s phone rang and Katelyn picked it up from the counter, looking at the caller ID as she walked toward Ginny. Eyes wide, she stopped in her tracks, her mouth open but no words coming forth.
Ginny’s hand reached out, but before she closed her fingers on it, Katelyn turned her stare toward Brogan. “It says Dad on the ID.”
Brogan’s longer arm snatched the phone from his sister’s hand and hit answer. “Yeah?”
Pause. “Brogan MacFarlane. Ginny’s boyfriend. And I already know who this is since the word Dad came up on the caller ID.”
Pause. “That depends on why you’re calling. If you are calling to apologize to Ginny, then I’ll have no problem handing
the phone to her. If you’re just calling to check on her since she was in the news for getting shot at, then I’ll tell you that she’s fine, surrounded by good friends and my family, who adore her. If you’re calling for any other reason, then the answer is no. At least not now. She can call you when she feels like it, if she feels like it.”
Pause. “Those are the only options.”
Pause. “Right, then she can call you when she’s ready.” Disconnecting, Brogan tossed the phone to the coffee table and announced, “Sweetheart, your dad’s a dick.”
Ginny burst out laughing, her head leaning back, full belly laughing that made everyone in the room smile. Wiping tears from her eyes, she held her side, saying, “You could not be more right.” After a moment, as her mirth slowed, she sighed heavily. “You know, honey, I could have handled him.”
“Your parents haven’t come to see you in the two years you’ve been here. You told me they also haven’t called to see how you are doing. I know you worked the past two Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays because you’ve had no family to spend it with. Something that ends now. And I also know you are more than competent to handle them. But right now, with the reminder that just two days ago I might not be sitting here with you in my arms, is too damn fresh for me to let one more thing steal your peace.”
Ginny’s eyes filled with tears as she swallowed deeply. “You’ve got my back,” she whispered, clutching his face with her hands, the feel of his steel arms around her. Embracing. Protecting.
“Always got your back, baby,” he agreed.
Brogan took her lips again, his arms wrapped tightly around her body, making sure to avoid her bruised side. As Corrine and Katelyn worked in the kitchen, Brogan leaned back, tucking Ginny’s head against his heartbeat.
32
Ben’s arrest shocked the community. A hometown boy, Saul’s grandson. Saul immediately announced his retirement, shaken to the core about his grandson’s confessions.
Ginny sat in June’s office, heaving a sigh as she talked through her feelings. “I feel sorry for him, in a way. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but couldn’t seem to stop. And then his behaviors became more and more overt.”
Looking at June, she said, “I know this is part of his police report but, with our confidentiality, can I talk in here with you about it?”
“Absolutely,” June assured. “What is said in here, stays in here.”
“It seemed he was only a pre-teen when washing the windows of a woman who realized he was there. She must have been an exhibitionist. She would strip while staring at him outside. He started going more and more to see her and, each time, she would increase her activity. Stripping, touching herself, and according to him, she even had a male guest when she knew he was there. The desire to watch women became everything to him. He couldn’t achieve sexual satisfaction unless there was an element of voyeurism.”
Nodding, June said, “That is so often how it starts.”
“So, I do feel sorry for him, and yet, as a woman, I’m so creeped out by it.”
“And as a woman, you’ve had to deal with these issues before,” June prompted.
“I know, as a police officer, I will always have to deal with assaults against women. I can handle it, but I admit it trips some triggers.”
June smiled. “Yes, it will. But you recognize those, get help for them, and then you can still do your job.” Leaning back in her chair, she asked, “What about your house?”
“God, I hate even going into it. My bed is gone…Brogan got rid of it. And just knowing Ben was in there has made it difficult for me to return.”
“Where are you staying?”
With a smile, she replied, “With Brogan. He told me that the night of the attack, he was going to talk to me about us moving in together, but deciding which place would be difficult. So, for right now, we’re staying at his bungalow. It’s small, but we’re talking about enlarging it.”
As the two women stood, Ginny’s session over, they embraced. June said, “It’s so good to see you moving forward.” She smiled, knowing she had…with Brogan.
Several days later, Ginny sat in the back of Finn’s Pub, surrounded by friends. Brogan worked behind the bar, his eyes continually straying to where she sat.
“She’s good,” Aiden said, coming up behind him, pulling a beer for another customer.
Brogan dropped his chin to his chest for a moment, keeping his eyes open because closing them meant he saw her fall backwards again in his mind.
“You been back to see your counselor?” Aiden asked.
Clearing his throat, Brogan shook his head. “Not yet, but I go tomorrow. I wanted to make sure Ginny got in as soon as possible.”
“Has she?”
Brogan nodded, “Yeah. She went yesterday. She seems okay. I mean, look at her…smiling, happy.”
“She’s found peace with it all, Bro. You need to make sure you do too.”
Turning to look at his brother, Brogan said, “I never thanked you for having my back that night, but you know you’ve got my gratitude.”
Laughing, Aiden flashed his famous smile and said, “Always got your back, Bro. But just remember that when you make up the next work rotation.” Clapping Brogan on the back, Aiden headed off to deliver the beers.
Shaking his head, Brogan could not keep the grin from sliding over his lips. Looking over, he saw Ginny walking toward him. Moving behind the bar, she stepped right into his embrace and, leaning her head back, she held his gaze.
“You okay, honey?”
“I am now,” he admitted, his blue eyes twinkling as his arms held her tight.
One Year Later
“Hi. My name is Ginny MacFarlane. I’m a police officer. Former soldier with the Army Military Police. And I’m a victim of sexual harassment and sexual assault.”
Ginny saw the eyes of the women in the assembly widen, but held their gazes as she finished her introduction. Working with June had given her the courage to now talk with women’s groups, providing education on personal safety, as well as with other victims.
At the end of the group session, Ginny drove from the northern end of the Eastern Shore down to Baytown. Pulling onto the road leading toward Brogan’s house…their house, she slowed down as the structure came into view.
Ginny had not slept in her house since the night of Ben’s arrest, preferring to stay in Brogan’s bungalow. One night, as the group of friends had sat around Mitch’s bonfire, they began to toss around ideas for Brogan’s property and Aiden suggested they turn the bungalow into a garage when they built another house.
“You could keep living in the bungalow while you have a house built next to it…a real house. Then, when the house is finished, turn the bungalow into the garage. You’ve got a place to live and keep the essence of what you originally had.”
The group had fallen silent for a few seconds before cries of “brilliant” and “good idea” sounded in the night. Ginny’s eyes had grown large as she turned to Brogan, who was sitting behind her, his long legs bent at the knees on either side of her.
“Honey, that’s perfect! I love that idea,” she gushed.
Brogan looked over at Aiden, chuckling, “Looks like you might have something there.”
“Hey, I’m not just another pretty face,” Aiden joked, his smile wide.
Ginny had watched as Brogan looked across the fire pit at Aiden, the two brothers sharing a chin lift, her heart full.
A few months later, she and Brogan married in a small ceremony at the spot where the house was being built. Neither wanted a large wedding, the ceremony only attended by close friends and his family. For the reception, they invited the members of the American Legion, Auxiliary, more friends, and held it at Finn’s. Informal. Fun. Not complicated. Completely Brogan and Ginny. Jillian’s mom made the cake. Tori provided flowers from her garden. Katelyn and Aiden ordered the alcohol and sodas. Not wanting presents, the couple asked for donations for the American Legion, but many people brought gifts a
s well as donations. With only a weekend off, they drove to the Blue Ridge Mountains to have a two-night honeymoon in a place Mitch had recommended—Mountville Cabins. Mitch knew the owner, Bethany Bryant, and had worked with her husband at one time.
The private, A-frame cabin near a lake had been the perfect honeymoon. They barely left the cabin with only a few walks around the lake and through the beautiful woods. Other than that, they stayed in bed for most of the weekend. Ginny smiled at the memory…perfect.
Now, parked at the end of her driveway, she continued to smile at the thought of her future here with Brogan. Professional builders had built most of the home, with Brogan and their friends providing a lot of inside labor. The roof was on, the cedar siding planks were stained, and the windows and doors stood solid.
Her phone rang and as she pulled it from her purse, she saw Brogan on the caller ID. Confused, she answered, “Honey—”
“You gonna just sit there or come inside?”
Lifting her gaze, she saw him standing on the front porch, one hand holding his phone and the other on his hip. His legs were slightly apart, his jeans fitting just right. His t-shirt was old, worn, and tight across his muscular chest. His tats were visible, each memorized by her—she finally got to have that conversation. His handsome face framed by his dark hair, still cut short, and his dark, scruffy beard. And even from the distance, she felt his blue eyes pinned on her.
“Baby?”
Jolting, she replied, “Coming!” Dropping the phone onto the seat, she drove the rest of the way to the house, parking out front.
Brogan opened her door, offering his hand to assist her down. His eyes searched hers, checking her emotional pulse. “You okay?”
Standing on the ground, she looked up, her palms flat on his chest as his hands rested on her waist. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“I was worried—”
“Honey, I wouldn’t do it if I thought I couldn’t handle it. But talking to women’s groups is good for me as well as them.”
Finding Peace: Baytown Boys Page 26