by P. J. Mellor
“We could just wing him, just enough to inflict maximum pain, to get him to talk.”
“Am I going to have to take your gun? I don’t want my apartment all shot up. We’re not going to shoot him. We’re going to arrest him. Let him talk his way out of it at the station.” He eased the door shut and motioned for Rick to back him up and then made his way to his bedroom.
Grant stood by Todd’s desk, looking through old bills.
Creeping up behind him, Todd used the element of surprise, grabbing Grant with his forearm and pushing hard against his windpipe, gun between his shoulder blades.
“Whatcha lookin’ for, asshole?” Todd ground out, emphasizing each word with a contraction of his arm against Grant’s throat.
In a move Todd had only seen a few times, Grant twisted and dipped his knees, breaking Todd’s grasp. But it didn’t do much good. Before he moved more than a couple of feet, Rick was on him, slamming him through the frosted-glass French door and against the living room wall, his pistol at the base of Grant’s skull.
“My partner asked you a question, asshole.” He jammed the gun deeper into the flesh of Grant’s neck. “I suggest you make no sudden moves and answer it.”
“FBI,” Grant said against the wall. “If you let me move my hand, I can show ID.”
“Bullshit!” Rick shoved the gun higher. “Why would FBI be breaking into an apartment?”
“I wasn’t breaking in. I have a warrant. Back left pocket.”
“Don’t move.” Rick felt until he pulled out a wad of papers, then tossed them to Todd.
“ID?” Todd dropped the warrant on the desk.
“In my front right pocket.”
Rick stuck his hand in and chuckled. “Glad to see me, are you, Grant?”
Grant growled. “It’s a flashlight, you fool.”
“He’s who he says he is,” Todd said a few seconds later. “Let him go. You have some explaining to do, Grant.”
Devon was ready and waiting when Jamie and Francyne pulled up to the curb the following morning.
Jamie moved to the backseat so he could sit in front. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
He twisted to look back at her and winced. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. Any more Fred sightings?”
Jamie shook her head, blinking back tears. Fred was lucky she hadn’t seen him. She was still so angry she could strangle him.
Francyne dropped them off by Devon’s apartment. “I’ll leave you two alone. I need to go grocery shopping anyway. I told Shirl I’d fix dinner for him tonight. Need anything?”
“No, we’re good.” Devon watched her drive away and then turned a questioning gaze on Jamie. “Shirl? She’s having Shirl over for dinner?”
“Don’t ask.” Jamie unlocked Devon’s door and pulled him into the apartment.
Killer trotted up. “Lark!” Rising on his short back legs, he hopped in place, tongue lolling, slinging little droplets of doggy spit in his exuberance.
“Hey, big guy.” Devon dropped to his knees to receive doggy kisses. “Did you miss me?”
“We all did,” Jamie said quietly, blinking back more tears. “Devon,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry this happened!”
“Shhh,” he said, rising to pull her into his arms. “It wasn’t your fault. Not any of it was your fault. Besides, I’m fine. Stop crying and give me a welcome-home kiss.”
She sniffed and looked up into his smiling face, trying to ignore the dark circles remaining from his recent black eyes.
He lowered his mouth to hers, and her eyes drifted shut. It was exactly what she needed.
He deepened the kiss.
She shimmied closer, thrilled to feel the hard ridge already rising beneath his fly. He sure didn’t kiss like someone just getting out of the hospital.
She pulled back, her palms cupping his face. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
He bucked his hips, nudging her toward the couch. “It’s more than all right. It’s therapeutic.”
“Really?” She grinned, stroking him through his shorts.
He nodded. “And if you help me get these clothes off, we can begin my first therapy session.”
“Therapy session?” She tossed his shirt aside and tugged his shorts down.
“Oh, yeah. Welcome-home sex is a very important part of the process. Statistics show ninety-five percent of people who practice welcome-home sex have a faster recovery time.”
“You’re making that up.”
“I guess I’ll just have to prove it.” He pulled her halter dress over her head and tossed it aside. Lifting her against his chest with his good arm, he feasted on her breasts.
Killer barked and jumped against his leg.
“Not now, dog. Hold it.” He grumbled against her nipple and sighed and put her on the sofa. “Let me go lock the scene stealer in his time-out cage.” He ran his index finger over her breast, down her abdomen. “Hold that thought.”
After taking care of Killer, he returned to find Jamie right where he’d left her. Even better, she’d removed her panties. “I didn’t have the heart to lock him up. I bribed him with food instead. In return for a bowlful of soggy doggy treats, he promised to ignore us.”
“I missed you,” she whispered and swiped a tear from her cheek. “I thought I’d lost you forever when I saw you lying on the sidewalk. I—”
“Shhh, shhh.” He crawled onto the couch with her, scooting until they were belly to belly, his erection nestled against her moisture. “Don’t cry.” He kissed away the tears and then covered her mouth with his, putting everything he couldn’t yet say into the kiss.
Beneath him, she shifted, spreading her legs, the smooth satin of her skin moving against his thighs, causing his breath to hitch.
He should stop and get a condom. He opened his eyes to tell her to wait, but the tears clinging to her lashes like sparkly trapeze artists blocked his words. Next time. Next time they would use a condom.
He flexed his hips, thrusting deeply into her wet, welcoming heat.
Eyes now open, they stared at each other while he moved in and out of her in lazy, seductive strokes.
The heat in Devon’s eyes touched her heart. If he didn’t love her now, she would keep loving him until he changed his mind.
With a grunt, she pulled him closer, holding him tight while she increased the tempo.
A crash vibrated the walls.
Fred flicked the shards of broken glass from the window frame and stepped in.
39
“I knew you were cops,” Grant concluded, his gaze moving from Todd to Rick and back, “but I had to be sure you weren’t involved.” He glanced over at the mess on the living room floor. “Sorry about the damage. The bureau will pick up the tab.”
“I thought you feds always traveled in packs.” Rick glanced around. “Where are your buddies?”
“They’re around.” Grant pointed to his watch. “If I press this red button, they will be on you like white on rice, before you could take a deep breath.” He looked at Todd. “I know you’re undercover, but I couldn’t find anything about the investigation of your sister’s disappearance in your file.”
“That’s because we’re here on another case,” Rick answered for Todd. “Fraud and possible prostitution. We’re working on Alexis on our own time.”
“Freeburger, one of my men, thinks he may have a lead. We’ll know more tonight when he calls in.” Grant held up a hand when Todd advanced on him. “Don’t start on me again. I’ve already told you everything I know. We’ll know more, hopefully, tonight.”
“She’s alive?” Todd squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath; then he opened them and pinned Grant with his best intimidating look.
“To our knowledge, yes. Again, I’m not holding out on you.”
“Jamie,” Devon said, tossing the throw over her and reaching for his pants, never taking his gaze off Fred, “call nine-one-one.” He decided to bluff à la one of his favorite movie lines. “Tell them I shot and killed an intrude
r.”
Instead of a look of terror, Fred rolled his eyes. “Nice try. You’re naked. Obviously you’re not hiding a gun.”
Devon yanked up his shorts and put his hand in the pocket. “You don’t know that for sure.”
“Yes, I do.” Fred sighed and held out his hands. “I just want to talk to Jamie. Then, if she still feels the same, we’ll leave.”
“The same?” Jamie knew she was shrieking, but how could one man be so dense? “Fred, not only do I not love you, I don’t even like you! I never want to see you again. How much clearer do I have to make it?”
Fred hung his head and then wiped his eyes before turning a teary gaze on her. “But I love you. I miss you. I know I wasn’t good to you, but all that can change.”
“Get out. Now,” Devon ground out, pointing to the door, one hand pushing on Fred’s chest.
Jamie wrapped the throw around her, toga style, and straightened to look at Fred. “I don’t want you. I don’t love you. I don’t need you. What else can I say?”
“But, baby, I’ve changed! I swear! I went to anger-management sessions after you left. I—”
“Yeah,” Devon interrupted. “We can see how beneficial those were by my broken nose. Not to mention the brick you threw through Jamie’s window. I’d get a refund, if I were you.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Fred bellowed and then turned back to Jamie, his voice softening. “Baby, please. If you still want to be with that asshole when I’m finished talking—”
“Who are you calling an asshole, asshole?” Devon spun Fred around and punched him.
Fred staggered back, clutching his nose.
Devon hissed a breath and shook his fist, hopping around. “Ow, ow, ow!”
“Damnit!” Fred stood straighter and advanced on them. “I’m trying to say something here, and you all keep interrupting and hitting me. Jamie, I’m a changed man. I’m so sorry for all the pain I caused you! If I could go back and change it, I would.” Fists clenched, he advanced, backing Jamie against the sofa. “I know there’s not much I can do to make you believe me, so I plan to—”
“Plans change, dipstick!” Francyne yelled as she charged through the front door. “Get him, Petunia!” Francyne promptly jumped on Fred’s back, pummeling his head with her fists. Petunia grabbed the fabric of his pant leg and began growling and shaking him.
Killer ran into the room. “Grrr! Lark! Lark! Grrr!” He jumped, bounding off Fred’s leg, and then jumped again.
Fred growled and said something, but it was lost amid the noise. He kicked out at Killer.
The little dog yelped and fell against the end table.
Jamie saw red. “You bully! You haven’t changed one bit!” Nails poised, she attacked.
Stunned, Devon watched the fracas. Fred flopped around in a vain effort to get away but made no attempt to defend himself. For some insane reason, Devon almost felt sorry for him.
Wading into the fray, Devon pulled Jamie away and plopped her on the couch. “Stay! Let me handle this.”
Next he grabbed Francyne around the waist and lifted her, kicking and screaming, off Fred’s back.
“Killer! Sit!” Immediately his dog obeyed his command. “Francyne, tell your dog to let go.” He wasn’t about to touch the crazed rottweiler.
Francyne straightened her muumuu and glared at Devon before ordering, “Petunia! Release!”
The big dog immediately obeyed, sitting on its haunches, eyes trained on Fred, a low growl coming from her throat.
Fred eyed the dog uneasily and then wiped a tear from his eye. “Y’all are crazy.”
“We’re crazy!” Jamie jumped up from the couch, only to be gently shoved down again by Devon. “You’re the one whose been stalking me.”
Fred heaved a sigh. “I haven’t been stalking you. Well, okay, maybe a little bit. But not for the reason you think. I told you, I’m in an anger-management program.” He glanced at Devon. “Sorry about the window. I had a setback.” He looked back at Jamie. “I’ve been trying to find you for months so I could apologize and try to make amends for the pain and misery I caused you and give back the stuff I took from you. It’s part of my twelve-step program.”
“But what about everything you did that can’t be changed with an apology? You terrified and bullied me. You killed my cat!”
“That was an accident—”
“Then you chased me all over the country,” she continued, “causing me to deplete what little money I had just to stay away from you.” She advanced, causing Fred to take a step back. “And what about the spying and throwing the brick and leaving creepy yellow roses at my door and punching Devon? He could have been killed yesterday when he was chasing you!”
“Roses? What roses?” He shook his head and then shrugged. “I didn’t say I was cured. It’s an ongoing process. And seeing you two going at each other like rabbits didn’t help the process, let me tell you.” He smoothed his ripped pant leg and straightened. “I tried knocking on your apartment door to try to talk to you. Then I left the stuff I was returning at your door. Now, if you’ll just tell me you can forgive and forget, I’ll be on my way and not bother you again.”
“I’ll never forget,” Jamie said and then sighed. “But I guess I can forgive you, if you promise to leave me alone from now on.”
“I can live with that.” He nodded at Francyne and Devon and backed toward the door while Petunia continued to growl. “Have a good life, Jamie.”
“Well,” Francyne said after the door closed, “if that don’t beat all. And here we thought he was a nut job.”
Feeling lower than a snake’s armpits, Jamie picked up her clothes and headed for the bathroom. She’d panicked and just about ruined a man’s life. How stupid. It was past time to pull up her big-girl panties and do the right thing. By the time she’d dressed and returned, Francyne and Petunia had gone.
“Hey,” Devon said, standing when she walked into the living room.
“Hey.” She stooped to pet Killer and compose herself.
“Jamie, I have something I need to tell you.”
Was Devon going to tell her he loved her? And, if so, what would she do? After her confrontation with Fred, everything had changed. What she thought she knew proved not to be the case. What if the love she thought she felt for Devon turned out to be wrong as well? “What is it?”
“Fred didn’t leave the yellow rose at your door.” He swallowed and looked her in the eye. “I did.” He held out his hands, palms up. “I was feeling romantic and thought it would be the romantic thing to do. Then, when you told me how Fred always did that and I saw how shook up you were, I was a coward and didn’t tell you it was from me.”
“Devon,” she said when she stood. “I want to turn in my notice.”
“What? Why? Because of the rose?” He walked to her, but she held out her hand, halting him.
“No, but I am disappointed that you didn’t feel you could tell the truth. I’ve caused enough trouble.” She gave a watery laugh. “My work here is done.”
“But—”
“It’s better this way. Trust me. Besides, now that I know Fred isn’t skulking in the shadows, I can go back to Denver and possibly get my old teaching job back.”
“We have schools right here in Texas that could use a good teacher.”
No words of love from Devon. Not even a crumb of hope. Heart breaking, she shook her head.
“It’s better this way,” she said again. “I’ll be gone by tomorrow morning. Good-bye, Devon.”
40
“Are you crazy?” Francyne stalked from one end of Devon’s kitchen to the other and took another bite of chocolate-chip cookie. “That girl is the best thing to ever happen to you, and you’re just going to stand there like a ninny and let her walk out of your life?”
“What else can I do? If I tried to force the issue, I’d be as bad as Fred.” He tossed the rest of his cookie into the trash. “I can’t keep her here against her will.”
“Have you even told her
you love her, knucklehead?”
He blinked. “Well, not in so many words. But she should know by the way I act. Words aren’t always necessary.”
That earned him a whack in the head with the back of Francyne’s hand.
“Bullshit!” Francyne stomped into the living room and tugged Petunia off the couch. “I’m going home. When you come to your senses, give me a call. I’ll even loan you my lucky vibrator.” She paused at the door and gave a sad smile. “And you’d better hope and pray it won’t be too late.”
After he cleaned the kitchen and walked Killer, Devon joined Rick and Todd in the courtyard.
“Hey, guys.” He flopped into a chair and slumped down, feet sticking toward the cold fire pit. “Todd, aren’t you working tonight?”
Rick and Todd looked at each other.
Todd raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, about that. I guess it’s time to fess up. I’m not really a stripper.” At Devon’s raised brow, he hurried on. “Oh, I really worked as one, but that’s not really what I do for a living.”
“And that would be…?”
“I’m a cop. From Houston. So is Rick. On special assignment with the Surfside Police Department.” He and Rick stood. “Just got word the bust went down without us.”
“Does that mean you’re both giving notice on your apartments?”
“Just Rick. I plan to make this home base for a while longer. It’ll be a drive, but I can commute from Houston.”
Jamie scrubbed at her face in an effort to bring her suitcase back into focus. She needed to end this pity party. Grow a backbone.
If Devon had lied to her about the rose, what else might he lie about? Was this what she got for trusting someone again?
Her shoulders slumped. Fresh tears welled. Despite the rose, she still trusted Devon. To be honest, she couldn’t even blame him for not revealing he’d left the stupid rose. She’d acted like such a lunatic.
He’d be better off without her. She’d fallen in love with him and in the process almost ruined his life. Even though leaving was the last thing she wanted to do, it was the right thing.