He grabbed and hugged her.
“I wouldn’t change a thing about this summer—except for getting to James a bit quicker last night, so he wouldn’t have manhandled you.”
She smiled and reached up to kiss him. His arms encircled her, and he deepened the kiss, tasting her with his tongue. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever.
“Ahem.”
The kiss broke immediately, and they turned to see her father standing in the entryway, an odd expression on his face. Freya could feel her face burning with embarrassment, though there was nothing to be ashamed of. She was a grown woman, and she was allowed to have a boyfriend.
A boyfriend.
She loved thinking of Brian in that way. And they’d be staying together for the foreseeable future.
“I just got off the phone with Detective Greene,” her father told them. “He said there is going to be a big press conference this evening about what everyone is calling the ‘Charlotte Rapist.’ I told him I’d have my legal team send over a statement from Morgan Books about Brian to add to it. He was very adamant that we watch it though.”
“I’d rather not subject Freya to the media circus,” Brian said. “Every time she peeks out the window, I can see her anxiety rise.”
Freya bit her lip, wanting to argue the fact, but she realized that he was right. She thought that the whole ordeal with James was over, but things had gotten even more complicated than she realized. She supposed that’s what happens when you date a famous author, and he kills your rapist.
“He was adamant that we watch,” her father repeated.
“Alright, then we’ll watch,” Brian said. “But if it gets too much for Freya, I’m turning it off.”
“Sounds fair,” her father said.
Brian sighed and said, “Now that I have use of my kitchen again, let’s get something to eat.”
Freya nodded, noting that her stomach had started growling.
“Although I may have to get my tile regrouted in there. There are bloodstains that aren’t coming up.”
Freya shuddered at the thought and tried to put it out of her mind.
6:05 PM
Howard and Alexis stood in a crowded room, her hand in his. The place was jammed with local and national news outlets. Howard had specifically made sure that Tom Thomson was in the crowd and was pleased that he had bullied his way to the front of the area.
It wasn’t long after that the press conference started. There were introductions, including the mayor, John Simpson, Andrew Johnson, a representative from Boone, North Carolina, and a representative from the DA’s office to discuss Alexis’s attack. The mayor gave a short statement, saying that he was happy that the Charlotte Rapist was off the streets and that the city was safer for it. He thanked the police department for their work, though Howard had to roll his eyes. Brian Ash had been the one to stop the guy, and Howard and Alexis had been the only ones busting their asses to get any justice.
A representative from the mayor’s office read the statement from Morgan Books as well as a statement from Brian Ash’s lawyer. The representative from Boone came forward and discussed what had happened. The DA’s office said their piece, noting that Alexis may have been another victim if she hadn’t been able to fight Walker off. And then, Chief Johnson stepped forward. He said his part and then decided to take questions.
It was showtime.
A few reporters got their questions in first. Howard had a pit in his stomach the whole time while he waited for Thompson to butt in. It didn’t take long for the man to ask the question that made Johnson stop in his tracks.
“Chief Johnson, is it true that James Walker—or should I say Alexander James Walker Clark—is your son?”
Johnson stood there, his eyes wide. It took a moment for him to recover.
“No. That’s ridiculous. Where do you reporters come up with this crap? Next question.”
“I have a matching DNA test from your former mistress and an affidavit from her saying that he is,” Thompson yelled. “She also claims that you’ve been in contact with him this whole time. What do you say to that?”
Johnson’s mouth dropped, while the room went silent. The mayor turned to him, a scowl on his face.
Then, the room erupted into chaos. Questions from other reporters came from the left and right. They all had to do with Johnson’s relationship with James Walker. Howard grinned, squeezing Alexis’s hand. They had done it.
“Press conference over,” Johnson said and marched out of the room.
The mayor left quickly along with the rest of the officials, but the room was abuzz with chatter from all the reporters. Many people circled Thompson, asking him questions. Howard pulled Alexis toward the exit.
When they were out of the area and had some breathing room, he turned to her and said, “How long do you think it takes for him to step down?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But did you see the mayor’s face? There’s going to be political pressure.”
“Thompson told me he’s running a large front-page piece tomorrow about the whole thing. He interviewed Samantha Clark and Melissa Crane. It should get interesting quickly.”
Alexis stared at him for a moment and then pulled in close to kiss him. Damn, did she taste amazing. It only lasted a few moments, but it meant the world to him.
“Want to continue this back at my place?” Howard asked slyly.
“Actually,” Alexis said with a smile, “I was thinking that we go back to my place now that I don’t have to worry about James Walker breaking into it again.”
Howard laughed and told her, “Sounds good to me.”
6:36 PM
Brian sat on the family room couch in shock. He was sure that Freya and Joe were in the same boat. The Charlotte chief of police was James Walker’s father? Holy fucking shit.
“Well,” Joe finally said, breaking the long silence, “I guess it makes some kind of sick sense. That Johnson guy was way too involved in the case for a chief of police for a city that large, and he pulled the only effective detective off the case quickly. Makes me wonder if Detective Greene found out, and that was the reason he started investigating the case on the down-low.”
“Yeah,” Brian agreed and then turned toward Freya.
She was as white as a ghost.
“Are you okay, baby?” He asked softly.
“I…think I need to take my anxiety medication,” she mumbled.
“Take what you need, sweetheart,” Joe told her.
Brian helped her up off the couch and steered her to the master bathroom. Freya popped a pill, and he recommended that she lay down. She agreed, plopping on their bed. He stayed next to her for a while until she fell asleep.
She stayed like that for the rest of the night.
Chapter 21
Saturday, June 13
8:44 AM
Brian sat in the family room, trying to drink his coffee and not think about the news from yesterday. Freya was still upstairs, sleeping. He was concerned. This was a lot for her to process, and it had only been a short amount of time since she had opened up to him. He was scared that after all of this was over, she’d regress with everything that was going on. It was a very real fear that had always been in the back of his mind, and now he was worried that it was coming to fruition.
Meanwhile, he had had a hell of a nightmare last night and was still reeling from it. Brian had a feeling that they’d have to cut the summer short and go back to Tampa so that he could start seeing his therapist at the VA again. Shooting a man and PTSD didn’t mix well together.
“WHAT!”
Brian turned around to see Joe standing in the kitchen on his cellphone, his face turning red.
“How the hell did this happen? They’re not supposed to print names…Damn it. No! Who do I need to sue? Get the legal team on it now!”
Brian waited until Joe ended the call before he asked, “What the hell is going on, Joe?”
“Freya’s name was leaked
to the press as James’s victim.”
“Oh, what the fuck! Who did it? Who is publishing it? They’re not supposed to.”
“The regular media isn’t,” Joe told him, “but there are a few tabloids that don’t care.”
“Fuck!” Brian exclaimed.
“And as to who leaked it, we might never know, but my bet is on Andrew Johnson. He was just put on administrative leave, pending investigation. He may have dropped her name out of spite.”
“Everyone knows,” said the soft voice from behind them.
Brian and Joe spun around to see Freya standing there still in her clothes from the previous day. She looked oddly pale.
“Baby…” Brian started, but before he could say anything else, she darted away.
“Just let her go,” Joe said.
“Like hell,” Brian growled and followed her up the stairs to the second floor and the master bedroom.
He found her in the master bathroom, gulping another anti-anxiety pill. That worried him. She hadn’t been taking them lately. Now, it seemed like she was popping them like candy.
“Here,” he said softly, “let’s have you lay down for a bit. It’s okay. We’ll get through this.”
“Everyone knows,” she murmured again as he led her to the bed.
She curled up in a ball and sobbed for a while. He stroked her long, beautiful hair, telling her reassurances before she finally dozed off again.
When he was sure that she was asleep and situated safely on the bed, he went back downstairs to Joe. The older man looked concerned.
“I think this little vacation is going to be cut short,” Brian told him. “I’m taking her to Tampa and getting her help there. I can’t have her slipping back to where she was at.”
Joe nodded and asked, “So I guess it’s pretty serious between you two?”
“Yeah,” Brian said.
“And you’ll take care of her?”
“Yes.”
“I believe you, Brian. I wish you weren’t moving her so far away, but I guess it’s just a short plane ride, huh?”
“Come see her whenever you’d like, Joe.”
Joe nodded and walked over to Brian, hugging him.
“Thank you for saving my daughter’s life, Brian.”
“You’re welcome, Joe.”
Chapter 22
Monday, June 14
11:46 AM
Morning light streaked through the curtains, and Brian tried not to get too pissed as he sat in the living room of his Tampa home and grumbled as he flipped through the news articles on his tablet. The tabloids were going full steam, but this time, they were focusing on the fact that he had saved the life of Joe Morgan’s daughter. Nothing like saving your bosses’ daughter publicly to garner interest. Then, the tabloids were going with the romance angle, making up all sorts of nonsense about them. It was infuriating, and Brian should have stopped looking at them. But it was affecting Freya, so he wanted to keep an eye on what the news was saying about her.
Freya.
She had continued to waste away since Saturday. Brian had been desperate to get her to eat something, and she had finally complied this morning. He had no idea what he was going to do. He was frantic with worry.
What was even worse was the flashbacks from his time in the service, but they were compounded with flashbacks interspersed with ones of James and Freya. He was an utter mess trying to take care of a woman who couldn’t take care of herself. Brian wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up.
Luckily, he had gotten them both into therapists for this week, and Freya would be starting up with a new psychiatrist in a few days. He was doing everything he could to keep them together, but he was worried that it wouldn’t be enough.
Brian heard a noise coming from the first-floor master bedroom and soon saw Freya shuffling out to the airy open-concept living room that overlooked the water. The color-scheme was done in whites and light blues—courtesy of an interior decorator he had come in a while back.
“How are you doing, baby?” He asked, getting up from his seat and quickly shutting down his tablet.
She didn’t need to see that he had been looking through the news about them again. It would only make her more upset.
“I’m okay,” she said, though she didn’t look it.
Her hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She had been sleeping a considerable amount. It was as if they were right back where they had started when he had first met her.
“You don’t look it,” he told her.
She wandered over to him and sat down next to him, cuddling in his lap. He put his arms around her and held her like that for a while. At least she hadn’t stopped physical contact with him, though they hadn’t had sex since back at the mountain home.
“I’ll be okay,” she told him. “I just need to get over myself.”
“That’s ridiculous, and you know it,” he told her.
She buried her head in his chest, and before he knew it, she started sobbing. He stroked her hair and held her close.
He was losing her, he realized. Something had to be done before it was too late.
Chapter 23
Wednesday June 16
10:15 AM
The nightmares have gotten a lot worse lately,” Brian admitted to his therapist. “Between those and trying to take care of Freya, I’m not quite sure how I’m going to manage it.”
Brian was sitting on a couch in his therapist’s office, staring at his thumbs as he twiddled them in his lap. He was uncomfortable talking about all this shit, but he knew that he needed to get it all out. Without Joe to talk to, he was mainly isolated except for Freya—he had to be with the media circus that was going on. Even going out with friends was a bad idea. Not that he could anyhow. Freya needed him.
“You have a lot to deal with,” his therapist, Mark Hampton, agreed. “You’re still dealing with trauma from the war, and now you have to deal with the trauma of shooting your girlfriend’s rapist in your own home. Not easy to deal with. And on top of that, your girlfriend has her own trauma that has ahold of her.”
Brian shifted uncomfortably.
“Yeah,” he replied, wondering what the hell they were going to do about it.
“Well, let me ask you something,” Mark said. “You said for a while that you were doing great. In fact, you said you both were doing great. What specifically were you doing during that time that could have contributed to helping you?”
Brian thought back to those few good weeks that he had with Freya—the ones where life seemed to be going perfectly.
“I guess I had been spending time forcing Freya to get out of herself and do things. I was cooking for her, working out, writing, hanging out with her, movie nights. All of that good stuff.”
“And what are you doing now to take care of yourself? What fun activities have you been doing? What significant things do you have to look forward to?”
Brian bit his lip and then said, “Hell, all I feel like I do is worry and read the papers to see what I need to shield her from next.”
Mark crossed his arms and shook his head.
“Doesn’t sound like you’re doing anything to take care of yourself or anything that you normally do to deal with your PTSD. Then, you end up killing a man and you wonder why it’s back in full swing.”
Brian sighed and said, “You have a point.”
“My advice is to stop worrying about the outside world and start taking care of yourself,” Mark continued. “You’re no good to anyone if you’re not doing the things that you’re supposed to that keep you healthy.
“Oh, and don’t worry about trying to ‘fix’ Freya. You weren’t worried about it before, and she came around. Let her work through it with her therapist. Support her but let her do her own thing. Don’t smother her. You said her father did that, and she did poorly with him.”
Brian thought back to how Freya had described life with her father after she had been attacked by James. Joe had e
nabled her in a lot of ways, and it had been Brian—who had no idea what had been going on with her—to push her out of her comfort zone.
“Alright,” Brian agreed. “I’ll give it a go and see if things don’t change.”
“And I,” Mark said, getting up from his seat, “will see you again in one week.”
7:30 PM
Pop!
Howard pushed out the cork of a bottle of sparkling wine and poured a glass for Alexis and him. They were at her apartment, enjoying each other’s company. Today was certainly a day to celebrate.
Andrew Johnson had just been arrested on suspicion for helping James Walker after it was found that all the cellphone pings for the number that James had been calling were on towers that were near Johnson’s home and work. But the lynchpin had been when they had traced the burner phone back to a convenience store that had video evidence of a man who looked a lot like Johnson buying the phone. Johnson was finally going to pay.
Alexis took a glass, and Howard held out his for a toast. They clinked glasses. Both of them were grinning.
“You know, I never thought this would happen,” Howard said.
“Me neither, but here we are.”
Alexis and Howard had been taken “off” the case respectively. Alexis’s boss said she was too close to the case to prosecute after James attacked her, and frankly, Howard’s captain was still pissed about Howard not coming to him about the case, though there was an understanding between the two men of why it was a big secret. The case was instead given to higher-ups, but Howard was still kept in the loop because of everything that had happened.
“So,” Howard began, a pit forming in his stomach, “where does this leave us?”
Alexis took a long sip of her drink.
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“Well, there’s no more running around, and I was wondering what was going to happen between the two of us.”
She frowned and asked bluntly, “Are you kicking me to the curb again?”
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