Brian didn’t see the alley until he almost ran past it because the entrance was clogged with garbage and stacks of cardboard boxes sagging with rainwater. He pushed past them, but it was too dark to see a damned thing, so he pulled the flashlight from his belt and flicked on the powerful beam as he called out, “I’m a police officer. Is anyone down here?”
“Yes! Oh, thank God.” The same voice he’d been chasing came from somewhere in the darkness ahead of him.
“I’m coming, ma’am. Are you alone?”
“He’s gone. The man who stole my purse is gone … at least I think he is.”
It took him a few seconds to locate the victim. She was curled into a tight ball, her shapely legs tucked in close to her huddled body. He got a quick impression of long blonde hair and tear-filled blue eyes before moving his flashlight further along to check the rest of the alley. It was empty. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“No. Yes … I mean, I think so,” she replied, her voice gaining strength as she talked. “A man attacked me. He tried to take my purse, but I didn’t let go. Then he hit me, shoved me, took my purse and ran off.”
Brian tried to remind himself that the lovely woman in front of him was a victim who needed his assurance, but it was damned difficult when all he could think about was how pretty she was. He gave himself a mental shake and forced himself back into professional mode. “My name’s Officer Wilde. What’s yours?”
“Meg. Meg Wilson.”
“Did you see what he looked like, Meg? Or maybe saw which way he went? Do you remember how you ended up this far down the alley if he attacked you out on the street?”
“He was skinny, with greasy blond hair, and a missing front tooth. He went…” she looked up and down the alley and frowned. “I’m not sure. It all happened so fast.”
“You’re doing fine. Tell me what you can remember,” the officer instructed her, and she closed her eyes as she tried to recall the details.
“I was walking home, and he came up behind me. I heard someone running, but before I could even turn around he grabbed me and shoved me in here. I didn’t realize how far we travelled while he was trying to take my purse from me.” As she tried to remember the attack it occurred to her that her attacker hadn’t tried for her purse at first. Not until she’d screamed. Her throat closed off as another thought struck her. “Oh God. That’s not what happened. He didn’t try to take my purse right off. He was dragging me … and calling me a harlot.” Her eyes flew open as a wave of revulsion and fear broke over her.
“It’s okay, Meg. Whatever might have happened, it didn’t. You defended yourself, and it’s over now. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make sure we catch this guy. I’m going to tell my partner where I am and what this guy looks like so he can check the area, and then I’ll get you out of here.”
Meg was having the worst night of her life, and sitting in a pile of soaking wet trash in a dark alley was just icing on the cake. She’d caught her boyfriend cheating, been abandoned by her so-called friends, and then she’d been attacked while walking home in the pouring rain. All she wanted was to get home, though she wasn’t even sure how that would work since the jerk who’d mugged her had taken her purse, along with her keys. Her cheek throbbed where he’d smacked her, and she’d twisted her ankle badly enough she didn’t know if she could walk.
The officer finished speaking into his radio, then crouched down beside her, letting her see his face for the first time.
Wow. Maybe this night’s not a complete write-off.
She’d never understood some of her friends’ obsession with guys in uniform, but now, looking at him, it all made perfect sense. Her savior was wearing a dark leather jacket with the Chicago police insignia, the coat fitting his big body snugly, showing off his broad shoulders and broad chest. The light from his flashlight was enough for her to see that he had hazel eyes, and the reassuring smile he gave her started a flurry of butterflies in her stomach.
“Are you hurt, or do you think you’re okay to stand?”
“Um, I can try, but I sprained my ankle when I fell.” She glanced down and blushed as she realized that the hem of her dress was riding high on her thighs, leaving an awful lot of leg uncovered. Not to mention that the coral-pink material was soaked through, so that it clung to the few bits it did cover. She was only wearing a light spring cardigan, and it was as sodden and clingy as the dress beneath it. The added heat of her blush made her cheek throb even worse, and she felt the first prickle of tears sting her eyes. Instead of crying, she bit her lower lip and took a deep breath.
She would not cry.
“Your cheek’s swelling a little. Is that where he hit you?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice just yet.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her bruised cheek, and she could have sworn he was upset that she’d been hurt. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you put your arms around my neck and I’ll help you stand up. You can’t be comfortable where you are.”
“Okay. I’m not a featherweight though. Don’t hurt your back.”
He grinned, and the butterflies in her stomach tripled in size. “Chicago’s finest are made of tough stuff, didn’t anyone tell you? Now, hang onto me and we’ll get you up out of that muck.”
Meg obediently put her arms around him, and Brian found himself with an armful of soft, female curves. When she was back on her feet, he discovered she was taller than he’d expected, though some of that was due to the high-heeled shoes she was wearing. Still, she was tall enough that her lips came nearly to his chin, and part of him was sorely tempted to find out if her mouth was as soft and sweet as it looked. Apparently parts of him weren’t keen on keeping his job, because kissing a mugging victim would get his ass fired faster than anything short of shooting someone that outranked him.
Even though she was standing, Meg hadn’t let go of him yet, and he was reluctant to release her in case she was feeling dizzy. Judging from the swelling, she’d been hit hard, and her shoes weren’t exactly sturdy. “You okay? Or do you want some help walking out of here?”
“I’m okay—ouch! No, I’m not.” She let her head sag against his chest, her blonde hair falling across her face in a wet tangle as she sighed in frustration and pain.
“Ankle?” he asked as he glanced down the alleyway. The path through the refuse was strewn with obstacles, and too narrow for him to walk beside her and help her along.
“Uh-huh. I’m sorry, I’m not usually this useless.”
“You just fought off a mugger. I wouldn’t call that useless. Reckless, maybe, but not useless.”
She snorted with laughter at that. “I’m having a horrible day and was so mad I didn’t think. If I were in my right mind I’d have just handed it over. I’m really a coward at heart.”
Somehow, Brian doubted that, and it really bothered him to hear her say such a thing. “Don’t put yourself down. What you did took courage. A coward would have just given in, but your instinct was to fight back. There’s nothing wrong with standing up for yourself.”
“It’s not ladylike to fight back,” she murmured.
“Who cares what’s ladylike when you’re being attacked? If you hadn’t screamed and fought, things might have been worse.” Brian thought for a moment, and then made a decision. “Hang onto me again, Meg, I’m getting you out of here.”
Meg hadn’t been carried since she was a little girl, but the officer lifted her into his arms without effort, cradling her against his chest. Embarrassment filled her, and she shut her eyes again, hiding her face as he carried her out of the alley and into the street. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know the moment they were out in the open again. She could feel it.
“No sign of anyone around. Whoever he was, he’s long gone.” A new voice spoke, and Meg opened her eyes to see another cop, this one middle aged and decidedly portly. “Miss, do you need an ambulance?” he asked.
“She’s got a bruised cheek and a twisted ankle. She’s going to need to
go to the hospital and get checked out,” Brian answered before she could.
“No, really, it’s okay. I’m just shaken up for the most part. I don’t need a hospital.” And she couldn’t afford one, either. Her scholarship was barely enough to make the rent on her meager little apartment, never mind pay for a trip to the emergency room. Her parents sent what they could to help out, but it wasn’t much. Fortunately, this was her last semester. She nearly had enough credits to graduate, and soon she’d have her degree and be able to look for work.
“Are you sure?” Officer Wilde asked, his gaze full of concern as he set her back on her feet and stepped back to give her a bit of room. She couldn’t put much weight on her injured ankle, but that was really the worst of the damage. She’d live, and a couple of aspirin and an ice pack would be a lot cheaper than a visit to the emergency room.
“I’m sure. Just don’t ask me to run a marathon for a few days.”
Brian wasn’t convinced, but he couldn’t force her to go to the hospital, not unless he thought she was really injured. Instead of arguing with her, he took out his notepad and flipped to an open page. “Why don’t you grab a seat on that doorstep, out of the rain, and tell me what happened? A patrol car will be here soon, and they can take you back to the station and you can give a proper statement then. For now, we’ll go over what you told me before so I can write it down, okay?”
Meg sat down, and Brian saw her shivering. She certainly wasn’t dressed for walking through town late at night, and what she was wearing was soaked through. He undid his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, earning a grateful smile that warmed him better than the jacket ever could have. As they waited for the patrol car, she told him what had happened, describing the attack and the fight that followed. When she was done, he asked her to describe her attacker, and she’d surprised him by asking for his notepad instead.
“What do you need that for?” he asked.
She looked almost embarrassed as she admitted, “I’m something of an artist. I could draw him for you if you think that would help.”
He handed over the notepad and pen without another word. An artist? She didn’t look like one. There was nothing of the bohemian about her. She looked more like a scholar, or a librarian, though he had never seen a librarian look as lovely as Meg did. The pen flew across the page, and within a few minutes she announced she was done and handed the notebook back to him. He glanced down at the page, expecting to see a simple doodle, and was astounded to see a detailed sketch that was as good as anything one of their sketch artists could have done.
She was damned talented.
“I’m sorry it’s not better. It was dark, and everything happened so fast, I’m not sure I got the details right.”
Brian showed it to his partner, who whistled in admiration. “Miss, if that’s what you got from a few minutes in an alley in the dark, you’ve got talent to spare. That will certainly help us find this guy.”
Brian looked down at the sketch again, but the face didn’t look familiar. Tomorrow night he’d look at some mug shots to see if he couldn’t find a match.
The patrol car showed up a few minutes later, just as the rain finally stopped. When the two officers got out and headed their way, Meg huddled deeper into her borrowed jacket and dropped her gaze to the puddles on the sidewalk.
The older officer nodded to the new arrivals. “Miss Wilson, these two officers will take you back to the station and get your statement.”
Meg didn’t want to go with strangers. She was bone tired, cold and wet, and she’d run out of inner strength ten minutes go. “I don’t want to go with them.”
All four men lapsed into an awkward silence, and Officer Wilde crouched down beside her. “Meg, you need to give a statement. I know you’ve had a lousy night, but this is important.”
“I know, but I don’t want to go with them. I don’t know them. I know you.”
There was another long silence, and she imagined that the four men were rolling their eyes and trying to figure out what to do with her. Eventually, Officer Wilde spoke again. “Tell you what. I’ll ride back to the station with you. Our shift is nearly over anyway. I’ll stay with you until you’re done with this, and I’ll make sure you get a ride home. Would that be better?”
Meg nodded, feeling better knowing there’d be one familiar person with her while she dealt with all of this.
She didn’t even know his first name, but Officer Wilde was the one man she felt safe with right now, and she wasn’t ready for him to leave. Not yet.
Chapter Two
Brian stayed with Meg as much as he could, though he had to take some time away to update his supervisor. Once the details were squared away, he headed back, and walked into earshot just in time to hear Meg explain that her purse, keys, and ID had been stolen. The idea that the guy who attacked her now had her address and keys made his blood run cold. There was no way in hell he was going to let her go back to her place alone.
Once the detectives were done, they told her she was free to go, and then left the room. That was when Brian stepped in. “Is there anyone we can call to come and get you?” he asked, hoping she wasn’t going to announce she needed to call her boyfriend, or worse, her husband.
Meg’s shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. “There’s no one I can call. I tried to phone my boyfriend earlier to see if he would pick me up from the party, but some woman answered his phone, and then called him baby. We had a big fight, and well … he’s not my boyfriend anymore. The people who drove me to the party didn’t want to leave, which was why I walking home in the rain so late at night in the first place.”
Brian felt a mix of rage and relief. He was glad to hear she was single, but the bastard and her selfish friends hadn’t been there for her when she’d needed them. The girl needed better friends. “No family we can call?”
“They’re in Michigan. I can’t tell them I was attacked. They’ll just tell me that they knew Chicago was too dangerous for me and insist I come home. I’m not going home! Not until I graduate. I’m so close, there’s no way I’m giving up now.”
The forlorn expression on her face gave way to one of determination, her blue eyes gleaming and her pretty lips pressed together into a firm line. No matter what she thought of herself, Brian could see she was a fighter, and a tough one at that. After all that had happened, she was holding it together, and now he had to drop one more bit of bad news on her plate. “Meg, you know you can’t go home tonight, right?”
She blinked at him, then furrowed her brow. “Why not? I’m all finished here, aren’t I? I just want to go home and fall into bed. The landlord has a key. He’ll just have to wake up and let me in.”
“Your attacker has your keys. And if he looks in your wallet he’s going to know where you live. I think you should stay in a hotel until morning, then go back when it’s daylight and have a locksmith change your locks.”
“Fuck!” she swore and then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. Swearing’s not ladylike either.”
He laughed at that. “You’re forgiven. If I were in your shoes, I’d be cursing a blue streak right now. It’s late. Why don’t you pick a hotel and I’ll drive you there? My shift is over, and I’d be happier knowing you were safe and sound before I call it a night.”
Meg started to feel the first prickles of panic. “A hotel? Do you know any all-night coffee shops instead? Or a diner? I could stay there and then catch a bus home in the morning.” She had a few dollars in her pocket, enough to pay for a cup of coffee and a small meal, but even if she had her purse, there was no way she could afford a night’s stay in a hotel.
Brian frowned at her, his hazel eyes dark with concern. “Right. No purse means no money for a hotel room.” He glanced around and then lowered his voice. “But you’re okay with me taking you somewhere, right? I don’t like the idea of leaving you on your own.”
Meg was too surprised to say anything at first. He was actually worried about her. No one worried a
bout her except her parents, and parents were supposed to worry. She was pretty sure that giving her a ride wasn’t standard police procedure either. Meg’s heart beat a little faster. Could it be that he liked her? She summoned up the last of her courage and smiled at him, hoping she looked more confident than she felt. “My mother told me never to accept rides from strangers, so until you tell me what your first name is, I can’t go anywhere with you.”
He dropped his gaze, and for a second she could have sworn his cheeks went pink. “It’s Brian.”
“Well it’s nice to meet you, Officer Brian Wilde. And now we’re not strangers, I really would appreciate a ride … somewhere.”
“I’m off duty, so how about you just call me Brian?”
“Okay, Brian. I don’t know where we’re going, but anywhere is better than here.”
He chuckled, and the deep thrum of his laughter banished some of the darkness from her day. “Come on. My car’s not far. Shit. Your ankle. You shouldn’t be walking on it.”
“It’s feeling better now. Maybe if you helped me?”
Brian nodded and offered her his hand, and she took it, trying not to stare at how easily his hand dwarfed her own. He was a big man, but instead of intimidating her, his presence just made her feel protected. It was a new feeling, and one she was quickly coming to enjoy. The second she rose to her feet, he bent down and scooped her into his arms.
“Hey! I said help me, not carry me,” she yelped.
“This is helping. And it’ll be faster than you trying to limp down the backstairs in those shoes.”
“Has anyone ever mentioned that you’re sort of pushy?”
“All the time. Hang on, I’ll have you out of here in no time.”
With nothing to do but cling to his broad shoulders, Megan finally had time to take a good look at her rescuer. He had dark brown hair cut very short, and now that he wasn’t wearing his hat, she realized he was younger than she’d first thought. The uniform made him look older somehow. This close to him, she could smell a faint trace of cologne, something subtle and spicy that made her want to bury her face in the crook of his neck and breathe deeply.
Uniform Fetish Page 6