by Linda Kage
"He was probably in his late thirties, early forties," Chase was saying as Raith entered the living room. Willow's brother stood in the center of the room, giving his statement to Hinton. "Small for a man, probably only fivefive or five-six."
Hinton nodded and noted the information on a pad of paper. "Caucasian?"
"Yeah," Chase answered and lifted his face when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Instantly his cheeks went dark. Glaring at Hinton, he pointed toward Raith. "What the hell is he doing here?"
Raith swallowed when Hinton looked up in surprise. "Uh..." he stuttered, shocked by the anger in the assistant county attorney's expression.
"Where is she?" Raith asked calmly.
Chase growled, "I think you should just leave. Right now. You've done enough to my sister."
Raith glanced toward Hinton. "Where?"
The deputy didn't say a word, but his gaze slid toward the hallway that led to her room.
Raith nodded his thanks. But when he started that way, big brother stepped into his path.
"You're not going anywhere near her."
"Get out of my way, DeVane."
Chase didn't move. "Just turn around and leave. She doesn't want you here."
Raith's eyes flashed angrily. "Well, you know what? I really don't care. That woman is carrying my child." He motioned jerkily down the hall. "I have a right to see if she's okay."
Behind him, Hinton gasped out a gurgled sound of shock. Chase's eyes narrowed, probably ticked the rumor was going to spread throughout the entire sheriff's department by eight a.m. tomorrow. But Raith didn't care about that either. He just wanted to see Willow.
"She called you when she had an intruder in her house a goddamn week ago, Malloy. And you didn't believe her then. So you lost your chance to act all worried and upset."
Raith took a step back. Chase's comment struck right to the core of the problem. His face drained of color; the guilt hit him square in the chest. His vision grayed. For a dreadful second, he was sure he was going to pass out, but he stayed on his feet.
"If she'd gotten killed tonight, it'd be your fault."
Raith lifted his face and in a hoarse voice, rasped, "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I..." He broke off suddenly before he broke down and started bawling.
"Just let me see her, God damn it," he whispered. "Soon as I see that she's okay, I'll get out of here. All right?"
Chase glared at him for moment and then moved an inch. He didn't exactly get out of Raith's way, but it was enough to let Malloy know he wasn't going to argue anymore.
Raith blew out a relieved breath and hurried past him. At the opened doorway to Willow's room, though, he paused.
She sat curled on the bed with her back to him, her knees pressed tight together and her feet flat on the floor. Her still-wet hair dripped down her back. She'd changed from the bathrobe Purcell said she'd been wearing and was now huddled inside flannel pants and a sweatshirt. The way she sat made her look lost and afraid and way too frail.
When he stepped into the room, she turned her head, not enough to actually see who'd come in, but enough to let him know she heard his entry. The icy breeze wafting in through the broken window was warm compared to the chill coming off her.
Raith walked around in front of her, into her line of vision before she saw him.
Finally, she rasped out in a hoarse voice, "I locked the back door."
Her words broke his heart. He swallowed and closed his eyes. When he crouched in front of her and looked up into her face, she merely stared straight ahead at the wall.
It scared him. This wasn't Willow. Willow was all about heat: animated and brash. This woman was hollowed and numbed. He opened his mouth to apologize, to tell her how sorry he was. But he knew it wouldn't matter. This had still happened to her.
God, he just wanted to hold her.
Suddenly, her gaze shifted and she looked down at him. Her lifeless stare pinned him; he felt it in the center of his chest. He had to blink rapidly to hold back tears. Licking his lips, he brought his fist to his mouth. "Why didn't you call me?"
Willow lifted her brows. "Oh, would you have believed me this time?"
His eyes filled. "Don't be that way."
Willow gave a small laugh. "What way? Honest?"
Raith sucked in a lungful of air. "I already feel like shit."
"Good."
"Willow," he said, and reached out slowly to take her hand. When her chilled fingers finally moved to clutch his, he sucked in a breath. "I'm so sorry. You'll never know how—"
"Where's my daughter!" a shrill voice interrupted, echoing down the hall.
Willow jerked, tugging her fingers from his and stumbling to her feet. Raith reached out to steady her, but she didn't even acknowledge him. Both her parents filled the doorway.
"Mom! Dad?" She sobbed and moved forward.
Raith stepped back as the threesome fell into a group hug. Brenda DeVane wept openly as she pulled Willow snug against her. Judge DeVane wiped at his eyes continuously, and Raith had to look away before he followed suit.
"You're okay," her mother kept chanting. "You're okay now. We're going to take you home and tuck you into bed, and this is all just going to be a bad dream."
Raith frowned. Jealous they could be so open and honest with their feelings, able to show their fear and cuddle her close, he merely stood there and quaked on the inside, showing nothing. More than anything, he wanted to strip her naked and make sure there wasn't a single scratch anywhere on her body. He wanted to hold her in his arms and never let go.
Brenda DeVane moved to a closet, pulled out a suitcase and immediately began to pack Willow's things.
Judge Walter DeVane glanced darkly toward Raith. "Who's in charge here?"
"Purcell," Raith answered after licking his dry lips. He motioned with his head. "He's out back, collecting evidence."
The judge nodded once and turned to his daughter. "Stay with your mother. I'll be right back." He kissed Willow on the forehead and disappeared out the door.
Raith glanced toward Brenda DeVane, who was bending over and stuffing tops and pants into a single bag. Realizing this was his last chance to have a moment alone with Willow, he took her hand and tugged her out into the hall.
She resisted. "Wha—"
"I don't think you should go with your parents."
Big brown eyes blinked up at him. Then she snorted and glanced away. "I suppose you think I should stick it out here by myself, like a big girl?"
"No." He shook his head and scowled. "No, I want you to come with me."
Willow frowned and shook her head vigorously. "I don't think so,
Malloy."
He gritted his teeth. Gently taking her arms in his hands, he turned her so she could look through the doorway and see the damage done to her bathroom door. There had to be a hundred stab marks in the wooden panel.
"Look at what he tried to do to you," he hissed in her ear. "Look how bad he wanted to hurt you tonight. This is serious, DeVane. Someone tried to kill you."
~ * ~
A ripple of fear went through her and she whimpered as she tried to turn away so she couldn't see the door.
Raith tightened his grip. "If he's that crazy and determined to get to you, then it doesn't matter where you go. He'll follow. Now, tell me honestly. Do you want to lead this sicko right to your parents?"
Willow froze and lifted her face. "No," she whispered. She didn't want this man anywhere near her family.
He pulled her close. "Then come with me." His voice was soft and his warmth comforting. He kissed her hair, and she closed her eyes, wanting him to pick her up and carry her to some place far, far away.
"But if he's so determined," she added, pulling away when reality intruded, "he'll just follow me to your place."
Raith's answer was a hard smile. "Oh, I hope he does."
Willow had to shiver again. But this time it was a quiver of awareness. There was something incredibly sexy about
a man turning savage in order to protect his woman. His concern for her felt nice, too. She liked thinking he might actually care. And then, to cinch it, he reached out and touched her face softly.
"No one's going to get past me, DeVane. I won't let anything happen to you."
No way could Willow deny him after that. Convincing her parent it was the best idea, though, was another ordeal entirely.
But Raith stood rooted by her side as she told her parents she was going home with him.
"No, you're not," her father answered. The look he sent the man next to her dared him to disagree.
But intimidation didn't faze Raith. He merely said, "Yes, she is."
The judge lifted his brows as if he couldn't believe some young, punk cop dared to differ with him. Knowing her father could have Raith fired in a heartbeat or at least seriously hamper his career, Willow took a very small, protective step in front of him as if she could somehow shield him. It was such an insignificant move, she didn't even think anyone would notice it. But Walter DeVane blinked in utter shock and opened his mouth.
She must've given him a look that said she wasn't going to change her mind because he let out a frustrated mutter and whirled back to Raith. "I don't like this."
"Well, he is a cop," her mother said.
The judge speared his wife with a scowl as if he wanted to throttle her. "We have a top of the line security system at our house. I think we can keep our own daughter protected."
Brenda sighed. "Honestly, Walt. What do you think's going to happen if she goes with him? He can't get her pregnant again."
Raith's face turned bright red and he treated Willow to a horrified look.
"What?" she said, wondering why he appeared to have just swallowed a watermelon whole.
"They know?" he asked from between unmoving lips.
Willow shrugged and nodded. "Well... yeah... They're my parents."
After that, Raith was unable to meet her father's gaze. His face flushed a little, but he stuck firm to his decision to take Willow home with him.
And in the end, he got his way.
As Raith made arrangements for her mother to pick her up in the morning and stay with her, Willow sat huddled in the passenger seat of his truck.
Since her father's big surprise party was the next night, Willow had already taken the day off to help decorate her parent's home.
It seemed everything was working out for everyone. Raith got his way, and Brenda got hers, and even Willow got what she'd been craving for nearly a month. She got to spend one more night with Deputy Malloy.
Twenty Two
Raith lived in a small, two-bedroom bungalow-style house.
As Willow followed him through his back door, her eyes immediately set about inspecting her surroundings, surprised he lived in such a tiny place. She knew cops didn't make as much as lawyers, but this was just little.
Size didn't seem to matter, however. As soon as she entered his kitchen, she suddenly felt completely safe. It smelled exactly like Raith. Willow drew in a deep breath and glanced at him.
He watched her from hooded blue eyes as he set her luggage on the table. "It's not much, but—"
"I like it," she said and smiled as she rubbed her hands over her arms. "It's comfy."
He lifted a brow, but didn't comment. "The bedroom's this way."
"I can sleep on the hide-away," she told him, stalling to keep from going to his room and seeing the bed he slept on every night.
"I don't have a hide-away."
"Then I'll sleep on the couch."
His jaw bunched. "You didn't survive a murder attempt just to sleep on a damn lumpy old couch."
Her chin lifted. "Well, I'm not sleeping with you."
"It's a queen size bed," he roared. "I think we can both fit on it just fine. It's not like you've contracted any rare disabling disease from sleeping next to me before."
"No," she agreed. "I only got pregnant."
He growled out a curse, threw his hands in the air and started to march from the room. But he no sooner reached the doorway, when he stopped in his tracks and swung back around.
"I'll sleep on the goddamn couch, okay?" When she didn't thank him soon enough, he huffed. "I didn't bring you here so I could get laid, you know. And I didn't do it so we could fight either."
"Then why did you?"
He opened his mouth, but the words didn't come. "The bedroom's this way," he mumbled and started out of the kitchen. Willow stared after him with wide eyes, wishing he'd just tell her what he really wanted to say.
~ * ~
She had to be the most stubborn woman on the entire planet.
Raith paced his living room as Willow stalled in the single bathroom, getting ready for bed. Her mother had neglected to pack anything she could sleep in, so he'd loaned her one of his oversized t-shirts.
As he stalked from one end of the floor to the other, he cursed her from head to toe. The frustrating female. Couldn't she see he only wanted to make sure she was all right? He had to make sure she was okay. His very sanity depended on it.
The bathroom door opened. He stopped and lifted his face. She paused in the doorway, wearing a t-shirt that came nearly to her knees.
"Do you need anything before you go to sleep?" He growled the question with ill-concealed impatience.
She shook her head. "No. Thanks."
"Good night then."
"Night."
She moved toward his bedroom and shut the door behind her after entering. He went back to pacing. Allowing a good half hour to pass, he stayed in the living room like a good gentleman. Then he couldn't take it any longer.
He pushed inside, braced for her to kick him right back out. But she was already sound asleep. He stopped at the foot of the bed. The light from the living room spilled over her sleeping form.
God, she was so precious to him. And she could've been killed tonight. The relief finally came as he drew closer and was able to examine her the way he'd been aching to all night.
Remembering what a heavy sleeper she was, he slowly pulled his sheets off her, marveled a moment over the picture she made in his bed, and then went to work, inspecting her for bruises, marks, or scratches. He found a few on her arms, probably received when she'd pushed the cabinet in front of her bathroom door.
In her sleep, she turned his way and murmured his name. He smiled and let himself believe she was sleeping so easily because she knew he would keep her safe.
Brushing his fingers over her hair, he leaned down to whispered, "I'll take care of you."
After pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek, he backed toward an old Lay-Z-Boy he had sitting in the corner of the room and sank down. He sat there for a long time, just watching her and thanking God she was alive. Glad she slept so peacefully, he eventually closed his eyes and drifted off himself.
~ * ~
Willow woke in the middle of the night because of a nightmare.
Raith's nightmare.
At first, the thrashing sound coming from across the room scared her half to death. She didn't know the time or even where she was. But it didn't take her long to pull her senses back together.
As she sat up, the blankets pooled around her waist. In the glaring streetlights pouring through the window, she picked him out immediately, huddled in the huge chair in the corner and tossing his head back and forth.
Willow set her hand over her heart when he started to moan as if in pain. Then he whispered her name in a panic as if he was trying to find her before a spasm rippled through him.
Scurrying out of bed, she hurried to him and nudged his shoulder. He woke so abruptly, surging alert, she gasped and jumped back.
"Willow," he said, his voice hoarse and ragged. Then he wiped the sweat off his face and looked up at her. "What's wrong?"
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him his uneasy dreaming had woken her, but at the last second she answered, "I had a nightmare," and crawled into his lap.
His arms immediately latched around
her. His warmth soaked through her, and she sighed, content. She could tell he sought comfort as much as he gave it.
"Want to talk about it?" he asked, his voice rumbling through his chest and echoing into her ear where she kept it pressed against his heartbeat.
"Do you?" she countered.
A shiver went through him as he finally caught on. "I woke you."
She lifted her face. "You said my name."
He made a choked sound of denial. But then he confessed, "I dreamed he got into your bathroom, that he got you... and it was my fault."