Protecting Phoebe

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Protecting Phoebe Page 6

by Shelli Stevens


  “Craig—”

  “Please, Phoebe. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.” He touched her cheek. “And I don’t want to hand you off to someone else. Let me be the one to stand beside you.”

  She closed her eyes. It was so hard to let go. To give that kind of trust to a man. Especially when facing the biggest obstacle and fear of her life. Rick.

  But Craig’s words had claws. They reached deep inside her and refused to let go. Twisted everything around until the idea of going through this without him seemed more terrifying than giving over that kind of trust.

  He cupped the back of her head, urging her cheek to his chest. She didn’t resist. She slid her arms around his waist with a ragged breath and went limp against him.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

  His chest rose high against her cheek as he drew in a deep breath.

  “Thank you,” he muttered, stroking her back, “for trusting me, baby.”

  She did trust him. Whether it was smart to or not, it didn’t matter. It was instinctive and right now she needed him.

  The pounding of his heart, each stroke of his hand down her back drew the fear and tension from her body. Removing them like the toxins that they were.

  “You’d better get dressed.” He eased her away gently. “Someone will be here any minute now to talk to you.” His gaze slipped over her and heat flickered in his eyes. “I like you naked and all, but would rather keep those sweet curves between us—and not the guys down at the station.”

  “Not good at sharing, hmm?” Phoebe gave a weak smile and nodded. “I’ll throw on some clothes.”

  “I share lots of things,” he leaned down to brush a slow kiss across her mouth. “Just not my woman.”

  My woman. Her pulse quickened. Did he consider her his woman?

  A sharp rap sounded at the door and he drew back.

  “Go, put on those clothes. I’ll let them in and get things going.”

  “Okay.” She slipped all the way from his grasp and headed back to the bedroom.

  She hit the underwear drawer and grabbed a pair of striped cotton panties. The bra she chose didn’t match, but worked well under the T-shirt she pulled on over her favorite jeans.

  Sliding her feet into flip-flops, she re-entered the living room, where Craig was standing around talking with two uniformed officers.

  They turned to look at her, straightening and giving a polite nod.

  A flush worked its way into her cheeks as she thought about how it must look to them. Surely they had to know that Craig had spent the night, and that she and Craig were probably lovers.

  Whore. The memory of what Rick had scrawled on the note ran through her head.

  Her stomach clenched as a wave of doubt swept through her, planting the tiny seeds of shame. Maybe he was right? You did go to bed with Craig on basically your first date. If you can even call it that.

  “No,” she whispered, her lips barely moving and the word inaudible to anyone but her.

  She knew better. She’d been through therapy and had helped reassure countless women at the shelter they were not to blame. That they were not whores, or liars, or deserving of someone’s fists.

  And damn Rick for making her doubt herself—even for a second.

  She lifted her chin and folded her arms across her chest, turning her focus to the officers.

  “Hi,” she said softly. “Thanks for coming out.”

  “No problem.” One of the officers gestured toward her kitchen table. “If you want to take a seat, we’ll go ahead and get started.”

  “Of course.”

  *

  Craig brought a clenched fist up to his mouth and tapped it against his lips. It helped—just a little—restrain the anger building inside him.

  As he listened to Phoebe’s description of her ex, his stomach clenched. It was the man in the bar last night—the tall one who’d smashed into him and then run off with a dirty look.

  Had her ex realized Craig had been with Phoebe that night? Had the encounter been deliberate? Shit, he should’ve listened to his instincts more.

  He paced to the window then glanced out over the city and partial view of the bay.

  Whatever it took, he’d make sure that asshole didn’t get within three feet of Phoebe again. Even if he had to move her in with him.

  Blinking, he tilted his head and gave her a considering look. Hey. Now there was an idea…

  He waited until the officers left and they were finishing breakfast before bringing up the suggestion to her.

  “It’s a bad idea.” Phoebe shook her head and dumped out the rest of her coffee.

  Watching her, Craig folded his arms across his chest and wondered how he could convince her to stay with him.

  “It’s not a bad idea. It’s a damn good idea. I don’t like the idea of you being here alone.”

  “You don’t have to like it.”

  Craig caught her arm as she went to walk past him. He turned her around to face him, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her snug into his embrace.

  “I know I don’t have to like it. And I know I can’t force you to stay with me.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. “But you’d be safe.” He kissed her again. “And you’d be with me.”

  She hesitated, but made no move to pull from his arms. “I don’t know if he’d really hurt me. I think he’s just trying to make my life miserable now that he’s found me again and I turned him away.”

  Craig thought about the rock sitting on the driver’s seat in her car. And the note on the windshield. It sure as hell didn’t seem like her ex was just trying to be an annoyance. It sounded like an unhealthy obsession.

  “Just a few days, Phoebe. We can get the temporary restraining order set up and give Rick a bit of time to show himself. Because he will.” He touched her cheek, a tightness in his chest. “He will, baby. You have to know that.”

  She bit her lip and then nodded. “You’re probably right. I guess I’m still a bit in denial. It’s been so many years—”

  Her home phone rang and they both glanced at it. She still had a land line? Craig pursed his lips, suspicious already of who might be calling.

  “I’m unlisted.” Phoebe shook her head and pulled free from his arms. “I barely give out this number to anyone. It’s probably a reminder call for my physical next week.”

  She grimaced, lifting the receiver to say hello. Her face drained of color and her fingers clenched around the phone.

  Craig wrenched the phone from her hand just before her body began to tremble.

  “This is the San Francisco P.D.,” he said tersely. “Who is this?”

  “Ah, you must be Phoebe’s newest bed buddy.” The male on the phone used a soft-spoken voice. “Does she like it when you kiss her ear? I know she always enjoyed that with me.”

  “You’re a sick man.”

  “You know, I thought all the police officers had left—I didn’t realize you were one as well.”

  Fuck. He was watching her apartment. Craig’s gaze swept to the window and the buildings beyond, before focusing on Phoebe.

  She stood gripping the counter, watching him, her mouth tight and eyes wide.

  Anger exploded in his gut. Made his vision blur and the phone shake in his grip. Damn it, he wished the man had the balls to show up in person. Then they’d see who the hell was terrorized.

  “This conversation is being recorded, Rick.”

  “She told you my name? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” He sighed. “And I think we both know that you’re not recording this conversation. Perhaps next time you’ll be more prepared.”

  Craig’s jaw hardened. “I’m taking her down to get a restraining order this afternoon.”

  “Smart move…of course you’ll have to serve it to me and sadly, I’m between residences at this time.”

  The amused laugh from the other man had Craig biting back a curse.

  “It doesn’t matter, you’ll be arre
sted if you approach her and informed of the order.”

  “Look, I’m just going to be honest with you, Officer,” Rick went on smoothly. “I’ve only just found Phoebe again after all these years, and she means quite a bit to me. We were each other’s first, you know. Completely in love. Soul mates. And I don’t intend to let her slip through my fingers again.”

  “Keep talking, asshole. Your threats just build our case against you.”

  “Oh, it’s not a threat. I’m sure once Phoebe and I have some alone time, she can be…persuaded to give our relationship a chance.”

  Craig snapped. “Touch her and I will kill you.”

  He slammed the receiver down and closed his eyes. Damn it. The guy dug himself under the skin and just needled.

  “I’m unlisted,” Phoebe said softly from behind him, her tone full of disbelief. “I don’t understand how he could’ve gotten my number.”

  Craig turned to face her. “What did he say to you when you answered the phone?”

  He hadn’t thought she could get any paler, but she blanched and proved him wrong.

  She straightened her spine and looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Craig closed the distance between them and touched her cheek lightly. “It does matter, Phoebe. Please.”

  “He said…” Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “He said, ‘Hello, sugar, I’ve been thinking about our last night together’.”

  Craig drew in a slow breath, all kinds of possibilities flickering through his head.

  “Will you tell me what happened?” he asked gently. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

  She didn’t answer right away. He watched her eyes kind of glaze over, as she went to another place in her head.

  “The night he’s talking about is the day after I called things off with him,” she finally said tonelessly. “I left him, but didn’t think to go into hiding. I was home alone—my roommate had gone out of town. He forced his way inside my apartment…and then on me.”

  Craig pulled her fully into his embrace, trying to keep his grip on her light, even as every muscle in his body went taut with rage. The bastard. He wouldn’t trust himself an inch if he ever came face to face with her ex.

  Phoebe pressed her cheek against his shoulder and he heard her unsteady indrawn breath.

  “I left town for good the next day. Went into hiding with relatives and friends, until I could lose myself in another city. I even changed my last name.”

  “I’m sorry, Phoebe. God, I’m so sorry, baby.”

  “Thank you. It’s still not easy for me to talk about, but I’ve come to terms. Lots of therapy.” She gave a humorless laugh. “And then being involved with the shelter helps. It certainly reminds me that I’m not alone with my experience.”

  Craig just held her, brushing kisses across her forehead. What could he say? Words held little weight to something so horrible.

  “I hate that he found me again. Hate it.”

  “He’ll fuck up. Fast. And then his ass will be in jail.”

  After a few moments she pulled back and gave a tepid smile. “Thank you, Craig. And I think I will take you up on that offer to crash at your place.” She bit her lip, her lashes fluttering down. “It’d be stupid to stay here alone now that he knows where I live.”

  Relief surged through him, but he forced a casual nod. “Good. Why don’t you throw some things together and we can head out? We can take care of the restraining order on the way.”

  “Okay. Let me grab a quick shower too.”

  He watched her leave the room to go pack. Unease mingled with the relief. Serving Rick that restraining order would never happen. The man had pretty much told him that. And even knowing it was coming, Rick had insinuated that it wouldn’t keep him away from Phoebe.

  Craig folded his arms across his chest and went to look out over the city again. If Rick was so determined to get to Phoebe again, it left them only one option—to get to him before he got to her.

  Chapter 7

  “You keep checking the rearview mirror. Are you afraid he’s following us?”

  Settled against the soft leather seats of Craig’s Hyundai, Phoebe turned her head to read his reaction.

  Except for the slight tightening of his mouth, there was none. He offered a casual shrug, his gaze once again drifting to the mirror.

  “Just being cautious.”

  “I appreciate it.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced out the window.

  And jeez, she really did appreciate it. Everything Craig had done for her thus far.

  She kind of liked that Craig had called her bluff. Had returned to her apartment, even if her trashed car had been part of the reason. That he’d been so concerned about her safety, he’d pushed her to come home with him. Actually, no kind of about it. She liked it.

  The realization that he was working himself into her life, and into her heart, was still a bit terrifying. And she had been bluffing this morning when she’d pushed him away emotionally—had tried to discourage him from anything serious. She still wasn’t clear on whether she’d been lying to Craig or to herself, but one thing she knew now was that she was done running from whatever they had. It was just too good. Too…right. Normal.

  But her reason for going home with him now wasn’t as cut and dry as she’d implied. No, things were a little more complex.

  No way in hell would she be a sitting duck for Rick. Waiting for him to approach her again—on his terms—when he knew she’d be vulnerable.

  He was watching her. All the time now. She was one-hundred-percent certain of that. Well, she’d just use that to her advantage to draw him out into the open. If he wanted her back to the point of displaying stalker tendencies, seeing her shacking up with Craig would surely get his boxers knotted.

  He’d get careless and screw up. Come out of hiding at inopportune times. And she’d be ready. This time, she’d be ready.

  “You’re so quiet,” Craig interrupted her thoughts. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m doing all right.”

  Her lips twitched. He probably thought she was shaking in her boots. Terrified. And for a while, she had been. But now…now she just wanted to deal with this. Finish it. Deal with Rick—whom she’d thought gone from her life for good—permanently this time. Instead of running and hiding from her fears, she’d face them.

  She glanced down at a nail, resisting the urge to bite it. It was a bad habit she turned to in times of stress.

  “I’m a little bummed to find out he was calling from a pay phone.”

  “I wasn’t surprised.”

  “Me neither, really.” Fisting her hands, she glanced at Craig. “But I am surprised that the restraining order process was so quick. I thought these things took forever.”

  “Time is of the essence for someone trying to keep a person away from them.” He gave her a pointed glance. “Sometimes a restraining order means nothing. It’s just a piece of paper that the victim hopes will keep her safe.”

  “I know.” Unfortunately. Years of working at the shelter had taught her that. If someone wanted to hurt you enough, a piece of paper meant shit to them.

  Craig turned his car into an apartment complex and pulled into a numbered spot.

  Twisting in her seat, Phoebe watched for any other cars to follow them into the parking lot. None did, but a few passed by the entrance. One seemed to slow just a bit, before it was gone from sight.

  Her pulse quickened and she drew in a slow breath. Was it him?

  “This is it.” Craig gave her a quick smile before turning off the engine and opening his door.

  Phoebe followed him out, stretching and feigning a casual ease. Every nerve in her body was alert, her mind churning with the idea that Rick might have followed them here.

  Craig moved to grab her stuff out of the trunk and she approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, and tucked herself against him, cupping his face. She br
ushed her lips over his in a soft caress. “For everything.”

  Surprise flickered in his gaze, before he dropped her duffle bag and slipped his arms around her, covering her mouth again with his.

  The possessive kiss sent a thrill through her. It took a minute to shake her mind free from the fog of desire that threatened. But she managed. Barely.

  Teasing her tongue out to stroke against Craig’s, she hoped like hell that Rick was watching.

  Craig groaned and pulled back with a curse. “We should get inside.”

  “I like the way you think.”

  Amusement danced in his eyes. “Man, you’ve gotten frisky.”

  “Yeah, go as long without sex as I did and you’ll understand.” She winked and went to pick up her bag.

  “I can get that for you—”

  “I’ve got it. You keep your eye out for the Shitgibbon, and keep your hand near your gun.”

  He blinked in surprise.

  “Yes, I just called him a Shitgibbon. And trust me, I’ve called him far worse.”

  His smile spread slowly across his face. “I don’t even know what that means, but I like you, Phoebe. A hell of a lot actually.”

  “Do you now?” She arched an eyebrow, her stomach fluttering as they made their way to his apartment. From all his gestures, she’d gotten that impression, but to hear him confess it just made it all that much better.

  “Yeah. Does that still bother you?”

  Hesitating, she tried to answer the question to herself first. Surprised by the answer, she murmured, “Not as much as it did earlier. You’re growing on me, Officer Redmond.”

  He caught her hand as they began to ascend the stairs. His thumb brushed over the inside of her palm. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  “Well, you make it surprisingly easy to do.”

  Pleasure flickered in his gaze. “So, does this mean you’re okay with this being more than just a one- or two-night thing?”

  Phoebe felt the familiar panic rise inside her but pushed it aside. She took a moment and really thought about how she’d feel if, after this was over, Craig just walked back out of her life and she went on as usual.

  There was no other choice.

  “Yeah, I am. I think we’d be shortchanging ourselves to try and put a limit on it right now.”

 

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