Up the Chimney

by Vonnie Davis

  Her hand coiled around the handle to her metal shovel. Using the rope, he dragged her out of her car. Once her feet hit the snow, the shovel she wielded hit his head. Bastard! He staggered back and cursed. She swung again, smacking his cheek. Enjoy preying on women, do you? Raping and killing them? The shovel made contact with his mouth. He dropped to his knees and spat blood and a tooth. She ripped the tape from her mouth.

  “Rape! Rape!” She knocked him on the side of his head with another thwack. Her booted foot kicked his ass before the shovel landed in the same spot. “Rape! Rape!” The more she screamed, the more she swung the shovel. Her adrenalin levels had to be off the charts.

  “Hell, woman, how can I rape you if you keep trying to kill me with that fucking shovel?”

  Two firemen peeked around the side of the building and ran towards her. One was Chase. He was on the cell as he barreled up the incline of the parking lot. “Ciera! It’s okay! We’re here!” He extended his phone as he ran toward them.

  She kept beating the rapist and screaming, “Rape!” Once the two firemen reached her, the shorter fireman dropped with his knee into the rapist’s back, holding him in place.

  “Give me the shovel, baby,” Chase pleaded, his hand reaching for her weapon.

  She whirled on Chase, ready to swing. “Baby? You want to call me ‘baby?’ You’re as bad as Mason!” Damned if she wasn’t pissed enough to take out the entire male population of Willow Bend with one snow shovel. She swung and he ducked, jerking the shovel from her in the process.

  Police sprinted toward them. An ambulance rolled across the parking lot. Everything morphed into a blur.

  She awoke to being lifted and jostled around. Where was she? Bright overhead lights seared her eyes, especially the swollen one she could barely see out of. There was a needle inside the bend of her elbow. A blood pressure cuff kept squeezing her upper arm at intervals. An icepack was taped over her eye.

  Someone was asking her questions and she tried her best to answer. What was her birthdate? June something. No, that’s when she’d married Seth. March eighth…why did her face hurt so much and why could she see out of only one eye? It also hurt to swallow.

  Outside the curtained room, a man argued with a nurse before he jerked the curtain back. His vocal sound was familiar. Comforting.

  “Is there any possibility you could be pregnant?” The nurse peered over the lid of her laptop.

  “Yes! Although she hasn’t missed a period yet, the possibility exists.” The man with the soothing voice replied. Just as his identity registered in Ciera’s muddled mind, his face came into view. He leaned over, his hand trembled as it extended to her hair. “My sweet Ciera,” he choked out.

  “Hero,” she croaked. Mason was here and his presence erased a lot of her mental confusion. Memories flooded back. Her hand rose to cup his whiskered cheek and he leaned into her palm. “I got the murdering, raping bastard, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, love, you sure as hell did.” He kissed her gently and gazed at the nurse. “Could we have five minutes, please?”

  “Of course.” She pushed the cart holding the laptop out to the hallway.

  To Ciera’s embarrassment, tears started. Tears she couldn’t control. She’s almost been killed by a deranged, raping maniac. Mason enfolded her in his arms. “I’m here now. He can’t get to you. I’ll kill him if he tries, but from what the doctor told me, one Brian Copeland is beat up pretty bad. He’s also in restraints until he’s well enough to be transported to jail.”

  She nodded against his neck. “I thought…I thought I would die. He had a rope around my neck and a knife to my throat. His eyes were crazed, Mason.” More sobs erupted and he pulled her closer, rocked her back and forth as he whispered sweet things to her. Tense muscles eased as safety from him flowed into her.

  “Are you in pain, love?” He feathered a kiss above her icepack and another to her jaw where it ached.

  “Here and there. Minor stuff. I’m just really tired.” She touched her neck and felt butterfly bandages. “He cut my neck. Asked me how I’d like to be raped in the snow.”

  Mason’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned.

  “I punched him in the nose. I think I broke it.” She glanced away for a beat. “I’ll be honest. I was in fear for my life. I may have used what you policemen refer to as excessive force.”

  “We call that self-defense. I was at home, had just stepped out of the shower when Juanita called me about some poor suspect and a fireman beaten with a shovel. I thought it was a damn joke until she told me who’d swung the shovel and that you were being transported here by ambulance. Damn, woman, I lost twenty years off my life.”

  His head dropped between her head and shoulder. “Don’t you ever…ever put me through that again. I’ve had to listen to reports from police and firemen about how you single-handedly beat a killer.” He trembled against her.

  “Can you believe some fucking cop had the audacity to stop me for speeding on my way here to see if you were okay?” He kissed her neck. “And poor Chase had no clue how I’ve made you hate the nickname baby. He claimed you’d lost your ‘effing mind.’”

  “He’ll get over it. Wait until Darla goes on a rampage. He’ll think I’m mild.”

  Mason kissed her again. “I have to tell you, I’m a nervous wreck. I’ve just spent several hours checking out the murder scene, looking at a dead woman.” A breath shuddered out. “God, baby…I might have… I damn near had to do the same thing with you. I’d have lost my mind. I’d never recover from losing you.” His forehead touched hers. “Never, love.”

  That’s when she knew. He really did care. Life could be so brief and she was allowing old insecurities to rule hers. This wonderful man loved her and she loved him in return. Until now she’d been afraid to face her true feelings. Afraid she’d be hurt again, but one couldn’t go through life without some pain—emotional and physical—forcing its way in from time-to-time. She had to trust Mason wouldn’t purposefully hurt her. And she did. Finally, she did.

  “Hero.” Twin tears escaped and he kissed them away. “I love you.”

  His head snapped toward hers so he could make eye contact. “Say that again.”

  “I love you, Mason.”

  A slow smile spread, so sexy her toes curled beneath the hospital sheets. “I was beginning to think I’d never hear you say those words. I love you so damn much it hurts.” His lips covered hers and he kissed her the way she loved being kissed by her man.

  ****

  Lab technicians came in and out of the emergency examination room to run tests on Ciera. Mason insisted on staying. He was wound so tight with fear over what could have happened, his protectiveness has a stranglehold on him.

  He’d slid a chair next to her bed and held her hand. Visions of both dead women flashed in front of his eyes followed by one of the woman he loved, her eyes void of life, her lovely spirit gone. She could have been the killer’s third victim. A groan escaped his tightened throat.

  “Hero?”

  “I could have lost you. You’re the woman I love, the one I cherish. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

  “You’re a police detective. You have a whole city to take care of.”

  The curtain shifted open and a woman strode in. “Hello, I’m Dr. Baptista. I understand you’ve had a rough experience. Talk to me while I examine you.” She glanced at Mason. “Are you her husband?”

  “I wish. We’re in love.”

  Someone from the lab came in with a report and handed it to the doctor who was examining her. She scanned it. “Ms. Parker, your pregnancy test is negative.”

  A stab of disappointment pierced Mason’s heart and he cursed himself for being so selfish; for wanting more than Ciera’s safety.

  “How accurate are these tests when my period is five or six days away?”

  The doctor crossed her arms. “Eighty-five percent.”

  “Then you can tear that paper up. I fought that attacker off for the two of us today. Fo
r me and my baby. A mother knows.” Her chin jutted with determination.

  Mason’s cell rang. “Hey, sis, what’s up?”

  “Is that our Ciera I heard about on the news?”

  In the background the doctor tried to convince Ciera, that in all likelihood, she wasn’t pregnant. Mason had to turn his back so he wouldn’t cuss the doctor for putting the pained expression on her beautiful face, bruised though it was.

  “Yeah, I’m at the hospital with her now. I’m hoping once the doctor stitches up where the asshat sliced her neck, she’ll be free to go home. I’m taking a few days off to take care of her.”

  “Mom’s here to watch Emma. Jackson, Dillon, and I are on our way.” The line went dead.

  “Prepare yourself, baby, Eva Marie and the boys are on their way. You better put your wipstick on.”

  The doctor injected local anesthesia around the cut.

  “Mason, my purse is in my Land Rover. The keys are in the ignition. Oh, and I jerked the attacker’s hat off and threw it in the back seat for possible DNA. It’s a dirty gray knit cap.”

  “I’ll call Officer Burke. I think he’s at the station.” He thumbed a number. Mason told him to put the cap in an evidence bag. Then he asked Gary Burke to retrieve her keys and purse and bring them to the hospital. She’d feel better once she had her things. Mason called Eva Marie and asked her to stay in the waiting room until he came for her. He wanted to warn the boys about Ciera’s bruises. He didn’t want them to be frightened. Seeing a bruised face on TV was one thing; it was very different in real life. Plus he wanted to be sure she was ready for hurricanes Dillon and Jackson.

  “While the doctor’s working on you, I’m stepping into the hallway to call work. See how the investigation into death number two is coming.” His first call was to Human Resources. He wanted to make sure Ciera didn’t lose her job over their relationship. After damn near losing her, he wasn’t about to hide it from anyone anymore. Aleesha assured him they were fine since they essentially worked for two different agencies. She also expressed her pleasure, saying Ciera was one of her favorite people.

  Next, he called his chief and told him except for this serial murder investigation, he was taking a week of vacation and the reason why. The chief blustered a little until Mason told him to kiss his ass. He’d fill out all the needed paperwork on his laptop and email them to him on time. “Believe me, Chief, no one wants this guy convicted more than I do. I’ll give you an air-tight case.”

  Mason stepped back into her emergency treatment area just as the doctor finished stitching her neck. Dr. Baptista ordered her to rest for a couple hours before she signed her release papers. She went on to say she felt better knowing her boyfriend would stay with her to watch for any ill effects from the attack.

  Mason didn’t care if they went to her house or his condo. All he knew was that he couldn’t take his eyes off her for one minute until his nerves calmed down. His insides still quivered. Blood lust still ran hot through his veins. So much so he’d asked another officer to do the initial interrogation of the suspect. Because damn if he didn’t want to choke the motherfucker.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  When a nurse told Mason a lady was looking for him, Ciera asked for her purse. She needed to get some lipstick on and comb her hair. When she flipped open her compact mirror, she gasped. My God, I look like a zombie. I’ll scare those boys.

  She did her best to make herself presentable as the boys’ incessant questions grew louder. Mason pulled the curtain back and two dark-haired miniature men stood at attention. Evidently their Army father had taught them well. Intense eyes took in everything about her. “Ciera, love, this is my sister Eva Marie and Jackson and Dillon.” He pointed to each one as he said their name. His sister swept around the staring boys to embrace her.

  “Ciera, I’m so glad to finally meet you. I’ve been a nervous wreck ever since I saw the news. I know how much Mason loves you.” Eva Marie’s cool hand cupped her cheek in a movement so similar to her brother’s and her eyebrows wrinkled. “You’ve been through a lot. So many bruises.” She shook her head. “Girl, you were very brave according to the news footage.”

  Eva Marie glanced over her shoulder at Mason. “As soon as I saw you beating that criminal with your shovel, I knew you were the woman to keep my brother in line.” She laughed. “I’m sorry, but you kept screaming ‘rape’ while you beat the crap out of that guy. You sure fixed his business.”

  Ciera looked from Eva Marie to Mason. “Please don’t tell me someone took a video of the worst moments of my life.”

  “Chase, I think,” Mason responded.

  She groaned. “I bet I looked like a deranged person.”

  The shorter of the two boys approached. “No. You wooked wike a super woman in your wong bwack coat. Just wike it was a magic cape.” His brown eyes studied her. “You’ve got your wipstick on.” He leaned over, his elbows on the mattress. “I wike women who wear wipstick.”

  Mason clapped his hand on Dillon’s shoulder. “Sorry, wild man, this woman’s mine. You’ll have to wait to get your own.”

  Dillon looked up at his uncle. “Don’t tell me I’ll have to wait fifty years until I’m your age.”

  “Fifty!” Mason swept Dillon into his arms and held him in a tickling embrace. He’d make a good father someday. God, she wanted to cry. While her conscious argued against a possible pregnancy, her subconscious had wrapped its arms around the idea and welcomed it. She hadn’t been aware of her secret desire until the doctor snatched it from her.

  There was no baby and she had to accept that.

  The oldest of Mason’s nephews quietly moved next to her, taking her measure with eyes as blue as the sky. His hand lay over hers. “Can I share a secret?”

  She turned toward him. “Of course, Jackson. Anything.”

  “I got in trouble in school last week for fighting a bully. I broke his nose.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I got expelled for three days for defending a girl who couldn’t defend herself.” He straightened.

  Her other hand covered his. “That doesn’t make you a bad person. I broke that guy’s nose, too.” She made a fist and noticed for the first time her knuckles were raw. “I have a strong right hook.”

  Jackson bestowed a shy smile. “So do I. When my dad and I talked on Skype last night, he called me a hero.” His little shoulders bumped back. “Until today, I thought heroes were only guys, but you’re a hero, too. You stopped a killer. You’re a brave woman. You don’t scream like a girly-girl. You kick butt and take names.”

  Sweet Lord, she couldn’t cry now. She’d ruin this kid’s image of her. But his words had touched her deeply. She blinked several times to force back the tears and raised her palm. “High-five me, hero.” And he did.

  Shortly after Eva Marie and the boys left, the nurse came in with signed release papers and a list of instructions. A volunteer wheeled Ciera out the door to Mason’s Wrangle. He strode around the hood, scooped her in his arms, kissed her forehead, and buckled her into the passenger’s seat.

  “I’ll be so glad to get home and see Gabby. She must wonder what happened to me. Her automatic feeder is probably getting low.”

  He checked his side view mirror before pulling out. “Gabby? Is that your orange watch cat?”

  “Yes. How did you know about my cat?” He’d never been to her house.

  “It watched me shovel out your driveway the other evening.” He reached to adjust the heat.

  Her head snapped in his direction. “You? Are you the one who put the cardboard on my windshield?”

  “Yeah. I won’t ask who threw her pretty red boot in the branches of a little tree.”

  The hum of the tires on the road and the Jeep’s gentle sway made her sleepy. “I’m too tired to argue.”

  “I’m sure you are, baby. Lay your head on my shoulder.”

  She yawned as she settled against his muscled strength. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you slipped that ‘baby’ nickname in
there.”

  He chuckled. “You might be a piece of work, love, but you’re my piece of work.”

  She woke when the cold air flowed over her as Mason unhooked her seatbelt and lifted her from the vehicle. He carried her close to him and he strode on her sidewalk to her porch. “My driveway’s cleared.”

  “I asked the man who does Eva Marie’s driveway to come here to clear your walkways and drive.” He set her down in front of the door and she unlocked it. Gabby extended a very vocal welcome when she walked in. The cat quickly ran to the cupboard where her canned salmon was kept. She plopped her furry butt down and meowed as if she hadn’t eaten in several months.

  Ciera’s little Christmas tree lay on the floor, ornaments were scattered everywhere. “Oh, Gabby, what have you done?”

  “We’ll take care of it together tomorrow. Give me your coat and feed your cat.”

  “I hope you’re not allergic,” she said as she hurried to open a can and check on Gabby’s water and dry feed dispensers.

  “The only thing I’m allergic to is life without you. Want me to run you a bath? Then you’re going to bed and sleeping in my arms.”

  “A bath? I’d kill for a bath. What about the stitches in my neck? I want to wash my hair, but the doctor told me to keep the stitches dry for at least a week.”

  “You can hold a cloth in a plastic bag to your neck while I wash your hair. I think we can keep the area dry.”

  Well, this would be a new experience, having a man shampoo her hair while she soaked in a tub of hot water. Gabby jumped into her typical bath time observation spot in the vanity sink to watch while Mason washed Ciera’s back and used the sprayer attachment to shampoo her hair. Such gentle pampering from a rough looking guy. He did reach over twice to scratch Gabby under her chin, making her purr louder.

  “Tomorrow I’m going to make you purr like that.” He winked as he forked conditioner through her hair.