A Man Like Him

by Rachel Brimble

  Patient and in control, he worked hard all day and came home to her, ready to rub her feet while they watched TV, pour her a glass of wine as they read, sitting side by side on their luxurious, overstuffed sofa. Angela pressed a hand to the lurching in her stomach. When she glanced up to find him watching her, she’d thought the look in his eyes was love—it turned out to be heinous possession....

  “You okay?”

  She jumped as Chris’s voice shook her from her contemplation. She turned. He stood close enough that she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes. “Not my best hour, but yes, I’m fine.”

  “Do you want me to come in with you?”

  The temptation to say yes, to have him take her hand as they walked inside, burned in Angela’s heart but she shook her head. “No. I want you to go home. I’m here. Your sister has no reason to—” she smiled softly “—put your balls in a vise.”

  His furrowed brow smoothed and he smiled. “This is true.”

  She turned back to the station. “The sooner I get this done, the sooner they can make sure Robert is where he’s supposed to be.” She took a breath. “The trouble comes when they tell me he’s not there.”

  “Hey.” He touched the base of her spine. “It’s going to be all right. This is only a precaution.”

  The heat radiating from his hand seeped into her skin, but still Angela shivered. He touched her in the gentlest of ways, but it made her blood run cold and her heart beat faster. Right then he was just another man. A man she had to be wary of. A man she didn’t know.

  She took a step back, her gaze concentrated on the building ahead. His hand slipped away and she suppressed the guilt that rose like a boulder behind her rib cage. Mixed emotions tumbled inside her as she sensed the flash of disappointment she’d see in Chris’s eyes if she looked at him. He cared and that made everything she had to do harder than ever.

  “Go home, Chris. I’m sure your sister will give me a lift back when we’re done.”

  The following moments stretched in tense silence, but Angela didn’t turn around. He coughed and then moved away, his footsteps fading to silence behind her. Taking a deep breath, she pulled back her shoulders and strode toward the station, her head held high.

  She pushed open the double doors and walked into the foyer. The smell sent her hurtling back more than four years before. Her heart hammered. Memories of fleeing her home once Robert had passed out drunk after raping and beating her for the final time crashed into her mind. Tears blurred her eyes as the image of her tumbling into the police station and almost collapsing on the floor flashed clear and vivid. If another woman waiting in the foyer hadn’t caught her before she fell, Angela doubted she would’ve had the strength to get back up.

  Glued to the tiled floor, she stared at the plastic seats lining the wall beside her. The woman had lowered her into a seat exactly the same and rushed to the desk for help. Angela had watched the events unfold through one eye, the other swollen shut.

  Dusty and metallic, the smell permeated her nostrils and she pressed her hand to her stomach to stem the nausea.

  “Are you okay there, madam? Can I help you?”

  She forced a smile as she approached the desk. Friendly and twinkly eyed, the sergeant standing behind it looked old enough and kind enough to be someone’s prefect grandpa. Maybe he was.

  “I’m here to see Detective Inspector Garrett.” She glanced behind him as though expecting the inspector to be watching her. “I called ahead. She’s expecting me.”

  He reached for the phone. “Well, take a seat and I’ll see if I can track her down.” He winked. “Never a hard thing with all that red hair of hers. Can I take a name?”

  “Angela. Angela Taylor.”

  “Okay, Ms. Taylor. Take a seat. I’m sure she’ll be right out.”

  Angela’s lips trembled with the effort it took to keep smiling so she turned and sat on one of the five vacant chairs. The desk sergeant’s voice rumbled around the enclosed space as she waited. She took slow, steadying breaths. By the time she’d counted to one hundred, a door to her right swung open. DI Garrett came toward her, her hand outstretched and her cheeks flushed.

  “Miss Taylor. I’m so glad to see you.”

  Angela took her hand and an immediate sense of trust swept over her. The similarities between the detective and her brother were uncanny—the differences, namely her dark red hair as opposed to Chris’s dark blond, and her stunning green eyes as opposed to his rich hazel, were just enough to separate them. The biggest joining factor was their smile and their confidence. It radiated from each of them like a soothing balm.

  Angela grimaced. “I wish I could say I’m glad to be here, but I’m not.”

  Dropping her hand, the inspector cupped Angela’s elbow and squeezed. “Everything will be all right. Come on. Let’s go to my office where we can talk.”

  She steered her through the open door into the station arena. Subdued chatter and laughter surrounded them—even the ringing telephones sounded somehow muffled. Angela had expected the same manic rushing around of officers and staff she’d found in the city station she’d burst into all those years ago, bloody and beaten at midday on a Tuesday afternoon.

  She might have known seven in the evening in a quaint seaside town didn’t bear witness to the same crimes as the city. The quiet was welcome, and her shoulders relaxed—a little. DI Garrett released Angela’s elbow and walked a few steps ahead toward an enclosed office at the back of the open-plan room. She opened the door and gestured Angela inside.

  “Take a seat. Do you want coffee? A cold drink?”

  Angela sat and shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  With a nod, the inspector walked around the desk and sat in a black leather chair, hitching it forward until her forearms rested on the desktop. She laced her slender fingers.

  Angela tried and failed not to stare at the shining new wedding band on DI Garrett’s finger or the size of the emerald engagement ring beyond it.

  “Good luck.” The two words slipped from her tongue and heat rushed to her cheeks. She snapped her gaze to the DI’s. “I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry.”

  DI Garrett smiled and glanced at her left hand. “I know exactly why you’d say that...given the circumstances.”

  Angela shook her head. Since when had she become so jaded? “I still shouldn’t have said it. I’m sure your husband isn’t a patch on mine.” She offered a wry smile. “I still believe in love, Inspector...in spite of everything that has happened to me.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” A faint blush darkened the inspector’s cheeks. “And you’re right. My husband is nothing like Robert Masters. You’ll find yours one day. You do believe that, right?”

  Angela lifted her shoulders. “Maybe.”

  DI Garrett smiled before clasping her fingers together. “I was relieved when Chris called.”

  Angela cleared her throat and leaned back. “I didn’t want him to. It was the only way to make him leave.”

  “It’s the right thing to do. You need police protection.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.” She stared at the inspector, determined to make it clear from here on in that what happened would be on her terms or not at all. “If I could take back telling Chris about Robert, I would. I can’t. Which means that, as well as worrying about Robert coming to the Cove, I have your brother’s safety on my conscience, too. I regret telling him anything and want you to make sure he’s safe. As for me, I don’t want you or any other police officer tailing me, watching me or anything else.”

  DI Garrett frowned. “Why would you refuse our help?”

  Angela tightened her jaw, memories returning of the skepticism that passed over certain officers’ eyes as they watched her; others filled with sympathy and maybe even empathy. “When I came to the police for h
elp before, I was promised that by pressing charges, testifying in court and revealing my entire, disgusting experience to the world, I would ensure Robert never had the opportunity to come near me again.” She glared, heat simmering like wildfire through her blood. “That wasn’t true, was it? There’s nothing you, me or anyone else can do if Robert decides to come back. So, I’ll take my chances on what happens if he does—alone. I don’t want your brother getting caught up in this and risking his safety. He doesn’t owe me anything and quite frankly, it makes me nervous that he should even want to get involved.”

  “Maybe he’s just that kind of guy. Have you thought of that?”

  Their eyes locked. The tension palpable. Angela’s determination beat hard and fast inside her. What would have been the point of living two years away from the people she loved, only to bring a complete stranger into harm’s way?

  Inspector Garrett cleared her throat, her gaze steady. “I’ll make sure Chris is safe.”

  “So you agree he’s a possible target?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “And does he accept that? Because from the way he’s insisting on watching over me, it seems to me he hasn’t even begun to think of what Robert could do to him.”

  “I agree, but unfortunately, my brother is very single-minded. There was a time in his life when that was a bad thing but now it’s manifested itself in other ways.”

  Angela frowned. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning he won’t be thinking about what your ex-husband could do to him...he’ll just be thinking what he can do to you.”

  Angela’s heart beat faster. The inspector’s cool green gaze gave nothing away of how her words made her feel. Did she hate Angela for putting Chris in harm’s way? Confusion rolled through her. If she was angry, why did she sound proud of him?

  Angela shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “Why you’re not as distraught about his safety as I am.”

  “I am, but right now, you’re the main concern.” DI Garrett leaned forward. “We’ll talk about you now and then you let me deal with Chris later.”

  Angela started, “But—”

  “I’ve gone over your files.”

  Immediate shame and humiliation punched Angela in the stomach. This was Chris’s sister and, after all this time of learning to accept the abuse was not her fault, it didn’t make it any easier that sooner or later Chris would know what had happened to her. She shouldn’t care. She should be coming up with ways to avoid him for the entirety of his visit to the Cove. Yet, it made her feel sick that once Chris learned what Robert did to her, any chance of him ever looking at her like he did in the holiday park bar was gone. Forever. Instead he’d look at her the same way her parents did, her sister, her friends from before—with pity, fear or embarrassment.

  She swallowed. “Right.”

  DI Garrett’s eyes softened. “Please let us do what we can to protect you. Chris is my brother. It goes without saying I want him unharmed, but you went through God-knows-what together during the flood. He feels a connection to you.”

  Angela glared and gripped her bag tighter in her lap. “Well, you need to help him sever it, because Robert will not see that picture of us and ignore it. He’s going to come for me...and then him.”

  DI Garrett’s jaw tightened. “I’ve got every intention of making sure Chris understands that. However, I see no need for my brother to leave the Cove straight away. You, on the other hand...”

  Angela closed her eyes. “I’m not leaving.”

  “I’d be a lot happier—”

  Her anger splintered and broke. “I wouldn’t, Inspector, so I’m not leaving.”

  “Angela—”

  “No.” Angela pushed to her feet and fisted her hands on her hips. “If you really want to help me, find out if Robert is where he’s supposed to be rather than on his way here...or here already. Make sure my parents and my sister and her family are kept safe. As for me? I know where you are if I need you. I want to be left alone. I want to pretend I can have a future that will mean something.” She cursed the burning in her eyes. “Most of all, I want to believe Robert hasn’t ruined my entire life.”

  Tears blurred her vision and Angela swiped at them, anger burning behind her heart and sadness clogging her throat. “Can I trust you to do at least one of those things tonight? If yes, it frees me to tackle the others in the morning.”

  DI Garrett leaned back, seemingly nonplussed by Angela’s outburst. “He’s where he’s supposed to be.”

  “You know that for sure?”

  DI Garrett smiled. “Yes. His activity has been verified and, as far as we’re concerned, completely normal. Shopping, pub and a visit to his mother’s. All his movements since the flooding gave us no immediate cause for concern. There’s every chance he hasn’t seen the pictures and has no idea you’re here.”

  Angela dropped back into her seat, her body numb.

  DI Garrett got up from her chair and moved around the desk. She leaned on the front of it. “You’re in no immediate danger, but you have to let me help you make sure it stays that way. Just because your ex-husband is where he should be today doesn’t mean he will be tomorrow. He’s under surveillance and we can speak to your family. As long as we’re vigilant—”

  Angela snapped her head up. “As long as we’re vigilant everything will be all right?”

  Disbelief and irritation stormed through Angela’s blood. Cops didn’t have a clue. Robert would arrive in the Cove. He’d seen the pictures. She felt it deep in her heart. She could sense his approach like a dog would an intruder. The hairs at her nape prickled.

  Angela shook her head. “You’re wrong, Inspector. Robert will be here.” She stood and hitched her bag on her shoulder. “I refuse to run away. When he comes, I’ll be ready for him.”

  “What does that mean?” The detective’s gaze darted over Angela’s face. “You cannot deal with this alone. One wrong move and you’ll land yourself in jail or in a coffin. Is that what you want?”

  “I’ll do what I have to.” Angela walked to the door, breathing easier now she’d opened the space between them. “Can I get a lift home now, please?”

  DI Garrett pushed away from the desk and came toward her. She lifted her hand as if to touch her and then dropped it to her side. “Chris likes you. He’ll want to protect you. I’m going to tell him the danger he’s in and that will make him think of you even more. Try not to push him away too hard.”

  Angela’s stomach knotted. “How dare you put your brother’s feelings on me. I care about myself and my family, Inspector. No one else.”

  DI Garrett closed her eyes. “I know that, but he’ll want to be there for you. It’s the way he is. That’s all I’m saying.”

  A strange sensation swept over Angela’s heart, making it ache for something it couldn’t have. A man who cared. A man whose eyes gave away far too much of what he was thinking. Robert would kill him and she couldn’t let that happen.

  She tilted her chin and slammed the door inching open in her heart. “I’ve got far too much going on to be worried about hurting your brother’s feelings. He’s big enough to look after himself, the same as me. Now, do I get a lift home or not?”

  * * *

  CHRIS STARED AT the open pages of the newspaper before picking it up and shoving it across the kitchen table. He closed his eyes and fought his rising anger. Cat had said there was nothing she could do to stop the press without rousing suspicion, and now day two had brought more pictures of Angela. Worse, they hinted she’d fought against threatening circumstances in the past and fought the flood with the same determination.

  The reporter was clever. There was nothing specific mentioned. No names or referral to her personally or the abuse she’d endured from the fists of her ex-husband—yet
the details were purposefully titillating to rouse interest and sell papers. Chris opened his eyes and stared ahead, not seeing a single detail in Cat’s sunlit kitchen. Instead he saw Angela holding a gun and trembling with a murderous determination so palpable it kept him tossing and turning the entire night.

  “Goddamn it.” He pushed to his feet and strode from the room.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Chris stomped into the spare room that served as Cat and Jay’s office. Decorated in muted shades of caramel and cream, it should’ve held a calming ambience but did nothing to soothe his red-hot fury.

  He yanked out the leather chair, sat and clicked the mouse. The idling screen burst into life and he brought up the search page and typed in Robert Masters. Cat had warned him not to research the guy, not to dig any deeper than necessary. Chris glowered as the pages appeared—tens of them. His sister knew as well as he did he’d be on the computer by midday. It was ten-thirty.

  As he read the various data, Chris’s gut wound tighter and tighter. Masters’s smiling face leered back at him in all its high-browed, black-haired bespectacled glory. He looked deep into the bastard’s eyes, looking for the evil, looking for signs this animal was capable of raining the reported blows on a woman as beautiful and kind as Angela. He looked like an ordinary guy.

  Chris cursed and closed the page, unable to look at Masters’s face a moment longer. The shit-face was handsome, his teeth perfect, his smile beguiling. No matter how much Chris wanted to deny it, Robert Masters could’ve easily charmed Angela into loving him. The clichéd signs of the movie madman weren’t apparent in any shape or form in Masters’s demeanor. Before his incarceration, Masters worked as an investment banker in London. The guy was loaded and his money undoubtedly still provided him with a lifestyle of comfort. He was once powerful and able to give Angela whatever she wanted. The bastard maintained his innocence of the rape charge, saying that if he’d been a backstreet bum, the judge would have been leaner but instead used Masters’s prominence in the city to hold him up as an example of zero tolerance.