by Blue Saffire
When the police officers arrived out front of her house, this time, the circumstances were different. They helped her load the boxes into the back of the car, then gave her a muffin they’d picked up on the way over. The gift, even if it was small, brought tears to her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“You’ve had a hard day,” the officer said.
She nodded, then slid into the back of the car. The hard plastic seat was too straight, making it impossible to get comfortable, but the drive to the hotel wasn’t long. She didn’t say much because there wasn’t much to say.
The bile in her stomach calmed as she nibbled on the muffin. She had a little bit of cash from tips her clients at school had given her, but it wasn’t much. At fifty dollars a night, which was the rate the cop got her for the room, it would only be two hundred and fifty dollars for the rest of the week. After she finished school, she could get a better job, but she’d need to find a cheaper place to stay. Maybe she could swing paying this much for another week after graduation, but money would be tight.
The cops helped her with her last box. She wanted to give them a hug, but she didn’t feel it would be appropriate, so she shook their hands.
“Thank you.” She felt like they deserved more than words. They’d saved her life and she was indebted to them.
The cop handed her his card. “I hope you find a place soon and that everything turns out okay. Call if you need anything.”
“Thank you. I’m sure it will be fine. Once I’m no longer spending seven and eight hours a day in class, I’ll be able to find a job.”
He shot her a smile that made her think there were some nice people in this world. “That’s good. I’m excited for you.”
Her heart was a little lighter. “Thank you. I’m just in shock.”
“I bet. You have my number. If anything happens, if your dad comes around, just text. If you need a drive-by or don’t feel safe, call the police emergency number; they’ll have information about what happened. We’ll make sure he can’t hurt you."
“Thank you.”
The police officers left, and she locked the door, wishing she had someone she could count on. But everyone she knew was stressed financially. Most of them were in school and didn’t have places of their own. Striker was the only person she knew who wasn’t living with his parents or sharing an apartment with five other people.
Getting to school the next day was more difficult than it had been from home because of where the bus routes didn’t go. But she left early and made it with only minutes to spare.
Nothing much changed for her life, except she didn’t have to go home and clean up her dad’s messes. She ate soup warmed in the microwave for dinner, and microwave meals for breakfast.
The hotel wasn’t too bad, and it was quiet for the most part. It was located just off the peninsula near a freeway. There was some street noise near rush hour, but she got used to it fast.
The most significant difference living at the hotel instead of her dad’s house was no one bugged her. She studied uninterrupted and went to bed early each night. She was ready for the test and ready to graduate. Now that she knew she was pregnant, she combatted morning sickness with white crackers and cold ginger ale which helped.
The morning after her father had gone crazy, she’d texted Striker asking him to call because something was up. Twenty-four hours passed before she realized her father had cut her phone service.
Now she had no way of getting in contact with Striker. School would be over soon, and she couldn’t rely on getting messages from anyone in her class if she texted Striker from their phone. She needed to buy a disposable phone, but she had to have money for rent first. Since this was the last week of school, she wasn’t taking clients. That meant no tips were coming in. Her life was all stress and pain, and she just needed a break.
The desperation that hung over her since her father kicked her out broke. She went into a full meltdown, ugly crying once she stepped into the hotel room. An hour passed before she gathered herself enough to shower. Maybe Striker would still want her in a few weeks after she got a phone. She moved to the dresser and picked up the deactivated device, thinking of tossing it at the dull cream-colored wall, but the phone hadn’t done anything wrong.
After drying her eyes, she found something to eat, then showered and headed to bed early. Though her graduating class wasn’t huge, they were having a party to celebrate after the ceremony. If she skipped the ceremony, she could be out looking for a job. She needed to earn money, but one day to celebrate her accomplishments wouldn’t make that big of a difference.
Was everything that had gone wrong just a sign indicating she didn’t need to keep this baby? The idea of Striker’s child in her arms brought more tears. She tried to stop crying, but nothing calmed her. Fear of never holding or kissing Striker again twisted her up. She didn’t even know his real name, just Striker. Why hadn’t she pushed for his first and last name? Now she was homeless, carrying his baby, and though she was graduating tomorrow afternoon, her prospects were slim because she didn’t have a phone. Life had gone from difficult to nearly impossible in the space of a few days. How would she raise this child? What if there was another option? She shivered and clutched her belly.
“What should I do?” she cried out as more tears came. The increased hormones had her all worked up. If only there were an easy answer, but nothing was ever easy.
15
Striker’s gut twisted, and his nerves sizzled like trouble had been aimed his way. He plotted out how long it would take to drive to Charleston. His stomach was in knots when he headed in to ask for leave. It wasn’t that he didn’t have time—he did, more than enough time—but this leave meant more than any other he’d ever asked for.
His unit commander, Rich, was seated at his desk, his hand covering his mouth as he stared at his computer screen. He glanced up and rolled his eyes.
“Seriously, Striker, never move into command of any sort.”
“But you get the big bucks.”
Rich threw up his hands. “Not worth it. God, so not worth it. I have to file this report, but they didn’t tell me what to include, so I’m trying to find out what other people have placed in their reports. It’s messed up.”
Striker chuckled before his stomach twisted. “I need three days.”
Rich lifted his brows. “Didn’t you just get back?”
“I did.”
Rich’s lips thinned, and he sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I really like you, Striker. You’re okay, right?”
He nodded. “I think so.”
“Okay, you have more than enough time, and your unit won’t be called out like last week. Where are you headed?”
“Charleston.”
Rich nodded and turned to his computer before glancing over to Striker. “Okay, three days enough?”
It would take him six hours to drive, and her graduation was at noon; he’d looked that up. Then he would have one day to convince her to move back with him. He would drive at midnight to get back in time if he had to.
“Yes. I’m leaving as soon as I’m done with today.”
Rich blew out a breath and shrugged. “Okay, sounds good. Just don’t get into trouble.”
His heart swelled, and excitement pinged through him. “Yes, sir.”
Rich had turned back to his computer but threw a “Dismissed” over his shoulder at Striker. As he was walking out, Rich lifted his head. “Get the girl. You need someone to wear off those rough edges.”
He chuckled as he stepped out. Rich was right—he needed a good woman to help him refine his life. Shannon would keep him focused. She was the type of woman he wanted to come home to after a long day.
The drive took five hours and fifteen minutes, getting him to Charleston early enough he had time to take a nap. When he got back from overseas, he’d tried calling her but realized her number had been disconnected. That was why he was here. If she never wanted to see him again, that would h
urt. But he felt that wasn’t the case. Something else was wrong.
When his alarm went off, he headed to a truck stop with showers. After dressing in a pair of slacks—the only nonmilitary dress slacks he owned—and a nice shirt, he drove to her school for the ceremony.
His heart sped up, and his throat closed with emotions as he pulled up outside the building. There were only about thirty cars in the parking lot. How many people were coming to this graduation? He would stick out like a sore thumb. No question, Shannon would spot him right off.
He was about five minutes early, which meant no one was outside milling around because they were all inside in their seats. There wasn’t even the cover of a crowd to hide his entrance.
At the door, he drew in a deep breath, wishing he could talk to Shannon before he stepped in the room where they’d have an audience. With his heart beating heavy, he tugged open the door and stepped into a small waiting area.
“Oh, hey, we’re about to start,” an older gentleman said.
“Thanks. I’ll just—”
The door swung open, and his gaze landed on Shannon. She looked amazing with her hair styled in curls that fell down her back. She had on a light shade of lipstick and just a hint of color on her cheeks. She was perfect.
She glanced up and her brows bunched at first. Then her lips started to tremble when he stepped into the room. The older man who’d greeted him stepped up to a microphone and began speaking. The graduates were taking their seats at the front of the room, and though he wanted to pull her into his arms, he stayed at the back and took a seat near the door.
The man spoke about how dedicated the graduates had been. Then he handed out certificates, calling Shannon last. She’d scored the highest throughout the year. Pride surged inside. He knew she was magnificent, but here she was surprising him with her nearly perfect score at school. After saying a few words, she looked directly at him, and her smile turned watery.
“Life will throw you curveballs. Sometimes those curveballs knock you on your back, and you have no way of finding hope; other times they steal your breath and leave you gasping. But when you have someone to help you, someone to lift you up, those surprises don’t hurt so bad. You’ve all worked hard—now it’s time to go out and prove yourself to the world. I know you all will accomplish great things.”
Sharp clapping erupted. Striker had never felt this proud. He stood, his cheeks aching from smiling so wide as he applauded her success. Her gaze stayed on him as she stepped away from the microphone. The older gentleman got up and said something, but Striker was too distracted to pay attention. His focus stayed on Shannon only. She was his world, his life, his everything. He just hadn’t really known it until now.
Everyone clapped again. Shannon stood and turned, her gaze hitting him; taking his breath away. The world stopped, and the only thing that mattered was Shannon. She started moving toward him, and he finished closing the distance. His arms were around her, holding her tight. Her sobs were messy and loud. She clung to him, pulling him close. After a moment, he led her outside where she clung to him like he was her lifeline. He understood because she was his.
After a few minutes, she stopped crying and stared up at him. The wonder he felt was reflected in her eyes. He never wanted to let her go.
“How did you know to come here today?” Shannon asked.
“I called and found out when the graduation was. They wouldn’t give me any personal information about you, and they wouldn’t give you a message. I couldn’t get you on your phone.”
Shannon shivered, and her eyes blanked for a second, emotion leaving her face. “Later—can we talk about that later? I need to go back in and celebrate for a bit before I leave.”
“Sure. But I’m not leaving your side.”
“Thank you.” She lifted to her toes and brushed her lips over his cheek.
Warmth spread, and there was no question, he was hooked. He followed her inside, realizing he would follow her anywhere. Her laughter was like a feather over his senses. His skin tingled, and his head buzzed. When her hand brushed against his arm, or when she touched his back, his whole body sang with happiness. He couldn’t wait to get her alone.
Thirty minutes later she took his hand and led him outside.
“Did you drive your car?” he asked.
“Ugh, no. It’s a long story. Maybe we should go sit in a park and talk.”
“Are you okay with the temperature? It’s a little chilly out here.”
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t think her dress and light jacket would be enough with the wind that had blown in, but she said she’d be fine.
He took her to a park not too far away. She stepped out and led him to a walking path where they strolled hand in hand. She glanced up, her brows bunched tight. She looked like she wanted to say something but stayed silent for about four hundred yards before she began speaking.
“My dad kicked me out.”
Panic flashed through him. “What?”
“Yes. He also hit me.”
Striker stopped walking and turned to stare at her, studying her face. Her pale complexion wasn’t natural like he’d assumed. She was wearing makeup, and she’d done an excellent job making it look natural.
He met her gaze and frowned. “I want to kill him.”
“Well, he was in jail. I’m not sure where he is now, but he doesn’t know where I am.”
“Jail. What else did he do?”
“He…He—” A shudder ripped through her. “He tried to shoot me.”
Her words circled around his brain. “He what?”
She winced. “He had his gun and decided to fire it at me. A neighbor called the cops.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. My dad had demanded I marry some guy I’d never met.”
Anger built, and Striker had to force himself to remain calm. He clenched his fists at his sides. “What else?”
“I know we didn’t plan this but—”
His anger had grown, making his need to protect her almost unmanageable. “You’re moving back with me. I won’t leave you here.”
She held up her hand. “There’s more.”
He nodded, not trusting himself to say anything else. He wanted to kill her father, but he knew that would make it premeditated. He couldn’t do anything other than take Shannon away and keep her from her father.
She bit her lip and shrank back. Striker swore she lost a few inches’ height. “He found out I’m pregnant.”
The words echoed in his brain, and panic was quickly followed by elation. “You’re kidding me?”
She shook her head and smiled sheepishly at him. “I’m pregnant.”
“Oh my God, are you serious?”
Her little nod was enough confirmation. He pulled her into a tight hug and held her close, kissing her face and then her lips. They were going to have a baby. She melted against him, and he held on, happy he'd finally found his rock, his everything. This woman was his, and he’d make damn sure he was the best man she could ever find.
After a moment he pulled back, staring into her bright eyes. “We’re really going to have a baby?”
“Yeah, we are.”
“God, I’m the luckiest man in the world. Thank you.”
She chuckled, and after a long kiss, she pulled out of his arms. “Wait, I don’t even know your real name. All I know is Striker.”
“I’m Liam Strickland.”
“Liam. I like the name.”
He tugged her close for another kiss before taking her hand, leading her to his truck. She directed him to her hotel. His excitement built, growing from lust to something deeper. He hoped she was ready to have sex because he needed to get reacquainted with her immediately and didn’t want to wait.
They were having a baby. He would have a family. Nothing had prepared him for this, and he’d never been happier.
16
Striker took her breath away when he tugged her into her hotel room
and slammed the door. First, her shoes came off, then her jacket, and finally her dress. She tugged off her hose and pushed her panties to the floor. In seconds, she was on the bed, his lips on her as he worked her bra off.
Striker kissed his way down her body and was on his knees, his tongue diving between her slit, finding her bundle of nerves in no time. The invasion of his tongue stole her breath. When he sucked her in, she cried out, begging for more.
He was driving her crazy, taking her higher, drifting on a cloud of desire. He grabbed a condom, and she lifted her eyebrows.
“Do we need that?”
He stared at the package and shook his head. “I haven’t slept around, and before you, there weren’t many. I’ve been checked.”
“Same here.”
He tossed the condom to the floor. “I guess since you’re already pregnant you won’t get pregnant again.”
Laughter bubbled up. “Nope, that’s already happened.”
He chuckled as he dipped low and licked up her body to the underside of her breast. His tongue swirled around her nipple before he rose above her and stared down into her eyes. She expected him to lift her legs, but he lay down next to her and pulled her onto him.
She sat up, and he helped her get into position to ride him. Taking him at this angle made him feel larger. The sensations were deeper as he pumped in.
Being with him was all that mattered. Missing Striker had hurt and now he was here, in her bed, filling her with delicious heat.
The pressure increased as he lifted his hips and pumped into her. She threw her head back and he clasped onto her hips, pushing them to a demanding pace. She moved enough to stare down at him, loving his hungry gaze.
She hardly had to do any work since he used his strength to guide her. Her body spiraled tighter as he pumped up. Bliss washed through her, and her emotions rode high. This was spring and summer, the glory of warm sun, the beauty of a perfect flower garden all rolled into one.
She threw her head back, reveling in the sensation, getting lost in Striker. Nothing felt better. Striker wasn’t just good sex, striker was everything.