Love Me (The Donovan Family Book 1)

by Margaret Watson

  "That might work." She leaned toward him, meaning to kiss him lightly and get out of the truck, but he deepened the kiss and she was swept away to a place where only Jamie existed.

  Finally she eased away when both of them were panting. "I need to go. I'll see you later."

  He nodded at her boot. "Don't you have an appointment to see your doctor today?"

  "Later this afternoon. He said a week, so I'm hoping to get this damn boot off today."

  "Let me drive you to your appointment?"

  "You don't have to do that," she protested. "I can take a cab."

  "I'll drive you. I don't want you out there on your own until Doug is caught."

  He stared at her, his gaze steady, his expression uncompromising. Determined to keep her safe. She'd begun losing her heart to him after their fight, and another piece just fell into his hands. At the rate she was going, he'd own all of it before long. "We'll talk about it later," she finally said. "I have to go."

  She kissed him, then fumbled the door open before she could get caught up in another kiss. Once on the sidewalk, she waved and headed for the building.

  ***

  Too many hours later, Helen shoved some bills at the cab driver and hurried down the sidewalk toward her office. It was already 1:30. Her case this morning had taken far longer than she'd expected.

  Her client was a man who wanted custody of his three children because his ex-wife had driven drunk with their kids in the car. This morning, the wife had agreed to go into an alcohol treatment program, and she'd signed over sole custody to her ex-husband while she was in the hospital. There had been paperwork to fill out and file, and Helen had spent a long time talking to her client about what needed to happen after his wife came home from the hospital.

  Now her ankle ached and she was emotionally drained. She heard the whine of a saw coming from inside the office, and when she pushed open the plywood door, the smell of newly cut wood drifted out to her.

  Jamie was bent over the saw, guiding a piece of wood through the blade. His jeans rode low on his hips and hugged his muscular ass. In the sun, his blond hair gleamed like gold.

  She was so glad to see him after the morning she'd had. He would cheer her up, make her laugh and take her mind off the couple she'd just left. She wished she could come back to Jamie every...

  No. She'd promised herself, and she always kept a promise. Jamie needed something she couldn't give him. No matter how much she lo...liked him.

  She gripped her briefcase more tightly, vowing not to lie to herself. She loved him. In a week, she'd fallen in love with Jamie.

  Not just a week. She'd started to fall in love with him that first night. And every day, as she'd gotten to know him better, he'd become more and more deeply embedded in her heart.

  It would destroy her when he left. But she loved him. She couldn't deprive him of what he wanted so badly.

  So she'd smile and love Jamie until she had to let him go.

  "Hey," she called, and the buzzing of the saw stopped.

  "Hey yourself," Jamie said, turning away from the saw. His face and tee shirt were covered with a film of sawdust, and the fine powder covered the floor, as well. He swiped his forearm over his face and smeared the sawdust into whorls on his cheeks and forehead. "How did it go?"

  "It'll be good, I think. The wife is remorseful and determined to conquer her drinking problem. The husband adores his kids and wants what was best for them. So we'll see."

  He didn't touch her – he never did when he was using the saw. He said he couldn't mess up her designer clothes.

  She didn't care. She pulled his head down and kissed him. He was like water – she couldn't live without him.

  "What was that for?" he asked, reaching for her as she stepped away.

  "You're so hot in your jeans and sawdust," she said lightly. "I couldn't stop myself."

  "You want me that bad, huh?"

  You have no idea. "Bad enough to kiss your sweaty, saw-dusty self." Before he could grab her again, she said, "Had lunch yet?"

  "I was waiting for you."

  "I'm starving. Yogurt only holds me for so long."

  "How about a sandwich?"

  "Sounds good." She hesitated, but finally said, "Could you get them? I need to sit down."

  "You okay?"

  "Just on my feel a lot this morning. The ankle hurts."

  He followed her into the inner office, helped her into her chair and arranged her booted foot on the makeshift stool. "Stay there. I'll be right back."

  ***

  By the time Melinda showed up with her kids at two, Helen had had a chance to decompress. She'd already called her contact with the women's shelter whose services included making women disappear. She hoped that Melinda wouldn't have to go that far, but she wanted to cover all the bases. Doug would eventually be caught, but until then, she didn't want to take any chances.

  "Hi, Helen," Melinda said as she walked in, her three-year-old daughter on her hip. She held five-year-old Linc by the hand.

  The woman was as tense as a stretched rubber band. She looked like one more tug and she'd snap. Her face was pale, and huge purple circles beneath her eyes testified to her lack of sleep.

  "Thanks for coming in," Helen said. She glanced around the room. "How would you feel about letting my...my boyfriend take Andrea and Linc across the street to get a slushie while we talk for a moment?"

  'Boyfriend' made her sound like she was in high school. But she thought it might make Melinda feel better to know Jamie was more than her contractor. So much more. Boyfriend didn't even begin to cover it, but for now, boyfriend would have to do.

  Melinda's arm tightened around her daughter, and her hand whitened where she held her son's hand. "I don't know, Helen."

  Jamie appeared in the doorway, and Helen motioned him into the room. "This is Jamie Evans. Jamie, this is Melinda and her kids, Andrea and Linc."

  Jamie squatted in front of Linc and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

  The boy let go of his mother's hand to shake with Jamie, and Helen saw his chest swell and his shoulders square. Her heart melted. Jamie had known exactly the right way to approach a boy who'd been abused and threatened by his father. He'd treated him like a man, shaking his hand and meeting him at his level.

  Jamie stood up and smiled at the girl in Melinda's arms. "Hey, Andrea. I'm Jamie."

  The girl buried her head against her mother's shoulder. But she peeked out from behind her bangs, and when Jamie caught her eye, Andrea smiled at him. When Jamie grinned back, Andrea lifted her head from her hiding place.

  "I know you want your kids close, Melinda" Jamie said in a quiet voice. "I understand why. But you could stand by the door and watch us almost the whole time. We'd be gone five minutes, tops. Maybe ten, if Andrea can't decide which flavor she wants."

  "She wants blue," Linc said. "Blue is her favorite flavor."

  Melinda looked at her son, who was tugging on her hand. Andrea nodded vigorously. "Blue."

  "I...I guess it would be okay. I'll watch out the door."

  "Sounds good."

  Instead of reaching for either child, Jamie waited until Melinda let go of LInc's hand. The boy stepped to Jamie's side, and after a tiny hesitation, she handed Andrea to Jamie.

  He settled the girl in his right arm, bouncing her up and down a few times, then reached for LInc's hand. The boy didn't hesitate to take it.

  With an aching heart, Helen watched them leave. Jamie chatted to Linc and Andrea as they walked, and the kids both chattered back. Jamie was so good with kids. He deserved to have a bunch of his own.

  He was so easy with Linc and Andrea – he must have nieces and nephews. They'd never talked about his family, Helen realized. He'd met hers. Spent an entire afternoon with them. But she'd been so focused on her own problems that she hadn't taken the time to learn more about Jamie.

  Vowing to correct that as soon as possible, she turned to Melinda. "I want to make a suggestion, Melinda. I don't expect you
to answer immediately, because it's a big deal, but I'd like you to think about it."

  Melinda kept her eyes on Jamie and her kids until they disappeared into the store across the street. "Okay."

  "There's a women's shelter I'd like you to stay in. Just until the police find Doug and he's locked up." She glanced out the door, but Jamie and the kids were still in the store. Knowing Jamie, he'd keep them there as long as possible to give her a chance to convince Melinda.

  "You can stay there as long as you need to. And they can help you, if you'd like to leave Chicago and start over somewhere else."

  She wasn't going to be any more specific until she knew if it would be necessary. The women who ran the center needed anonymity and discretion to keep their operation safe. If Doug wasn't found, they could talk about disappearing.

  "Maybe...maybe that would be good," Melinda said. "I'm scared all the time."

  Helen exhaled. "Great. I have their number on my phone. Do you think you can remember it?"

  "Yes. I'll remember."

  "Tell them you're my client. I'll make sure you and the kids get there."

  "Okay."

  There was resolve in Melinda's voice. Helen relaxed as she limped into the inner office. Melinda wouldn't have to worry about Doug. She'd be safe.

  Helen heard Melinda behind her as she bent down for her tote bag and her phone. She'd just reached into the bag when the plywood door in the outer room slammed into the wall and heavy footsteps rushed toward them.

  "Thought you could run away from me, didn't you, bitch?"

  Chapter 12

  Oh, my God. Doug. He must have followed Melinda here. Helen sucked in a breath. Had he seen Jamie taking Linc and Andrea across the street? Were they okay?

  "You, lawyer bitch. Stand up."

  Helen fumbled in one of the pockets of her bag and closed her fist around her pepper spray. Then she straightened and turned to face Doug.

  He had a gun pointed at Melinda. The woman was sheet white and breathing heavily. Doug's gaze bounced between his ex-wife and Helen. His hand shook, and sweat poured down his face. Was he high? Or just excited about killing her and his wife?

  "What's in your hand?" he demanded.

  Helen shoved the cylinder of pepper spray up the sleeve of her suit jacket. "Nothing." She held up her hands, praying the tube wouldn't fall out. "What are you doing, Doug?" She tried to keep her voice calm. "You're not in trouble." A lie. "You haven't done anything wrong." Other than terrorize your ex and ram your car into my office. "But if you hurt Melinda, you're going to be in a lot of trouble."

  "Trouble?" His hand stopped shaking and his voice was way too calm. Helen swallowed. The man who'd driven a car into her office had been out of control. So had the guy who'd pushed her in front of a taxi. This Doug was steady. Determined. Much scarier than angry Doug. "My wife making me into a fool is trouble. Trouble is having my kids taken away from me." His gaze ping-ponged between her and Melinda. "I'm going to do whatever's necessary to get my kids back."

  "Put the gun down, Doug." Helen managed to say in an even voice, as if she wasn't scared to death. "Hurting Melinda isn't going solve anything. Let's talk about what you want."

  "What I want?" He turned the gun toward Helen. "I want her dead. Then I get the kids. You helped her. So you need to be dead, too, don't you?"

  Had Jamie seen Doug walk into her office?

  It wouldn't matter if he had, she realized, her stomach sinking. He didn't know what Doug looked like. He might assume he was another client.

  "Answer me," Doug said, his voice eerily calm. He stepped around Melinda to get closer to Helen.

  She let the tube of pepper spray slide into her palm. "I was doing my job, Doug. I represented my client."

  "You helped her steal my kids."

  Melinda was behind him now. Helen signaled the terrified woman with her eyes. Get out. Call the police.

  Doug must have seen her and realized Melinda could escape. He spun around to face the woman who was backing away. "You're not getting away from me again," he said as he raised the gun.

  Helen saw Doug tighten his grip on the gun. He was going to pull the trigger. She lunged for him, managing to jostle his arm just as the gun went off.

  Melinda crumpled to the ground. Blood poured from her head and pooled on the floor beneath her. It clumped around the sawdust, making a red sludge smeared on the floor.

  Doug spun around and aimed the gun at Helen. As she fumbled with the pepper spray, his fingers began to tighten again. Desperate, she kicked out with her boot and caught him in the knee.

  He screamed and fell backward as he fired. The bullet came so close that Helen felt its heat on her arm. She leaped toward him, aimed the spray at his face and pushed the button. A fine mist settled on his face.

  Doug screamed again and the gun clattered to the floor as he slapped his hands over his eyes. Helen kicked the gun through the hole in the wall to the outer room, then ran to Melinda.

  Her eyes were closed and the pool of blood on the floor was bigger. "Melinda," she sobbed. "Melinda, wake up." She put her hand over the wound on the side of the woman's head, trying to stop the bleeding, but blood flowed sluggishly between her fingers.

  "Helen." Jamie's voice, near the door.

  "Don't come in," she said, her voice breaking. She would not let Linc and Andrea see their mother lying in her own blood. "Take the kids across the street and call the police."

  "Are you okay?" His voice was closer.

  "I'm fine. Please, Jamie. Take the kids away. Please."

  The footsteps stopped. He must have figured it out. "Okay," he said. His voice was cheerful, but she could hear the effort it took. "Looks like someone needs a refill. We'll take care of that."

  "Thanks, Jamie."

  She turned to look at Doug and found him writhing on the floor. "You blinded me, you whore."

  "Keep your mouth shut, Doug, or I'll spray you again."

  She turned back to Melinda and put her fingers on her neck. The woman's pulse beat beneath her fingers. Thready and weak, but Melinda was still alive. "Hang on, Melinda," she whispered. "Help will be here soon."

  Melinda stirred. "Kids?"

  "They're fine. Jamie has them."

  Melinda exhaled. "Good." Her breath feathered against Helen's hand, then she went limp and her fingers uncurled from Helen's.

  Ambulance. Melinda needed an ambulance, and Helen was sitting on the floor like an idiot. She stumbled to her feet, swaying a little as she reached for her phone. Her bloody fingers slipped off the numbers as she tried to press them. Frowning, she looked at her hand. It was covered with blood.

  Melinda's blood.

  Her head spun, and she closed her eyes and tried to focus. 911. Three buttons. Easy. The phone slipped from her hand and clattered onto the floor. As she picked it up again, she heard sirens in the street.

  Jamie had called them. Thank God. She wasn't sure she'd be able to call. Which was stupid. Why couldn't she press three numbers?

  A police officer ran into the room, looked at the three people on the floor and grabbed the radio off his vest. "We need a couple of buses here," he barked. "Right now."

  He assessed Doug, who was whimpering on the ground, his hands over his eyes, snot running out of his nose as he rocked back and forth. Then he crouched next to Melinda and put his fingers on her neck. He must have found her pulse, because he turned to Helen and took her by the elbow. "Hold your arm still, Ma'am. The paramedics will be here in a moment."

  What was wrong with him? She was fine. "Melinda," she said. "He shot her. In the head. She's still alive."

  "We've got her." He eased Helen against the wall. "Sit here for me, okay?"

  "'Kay."

  The police officer moved to Melinda, smoothing her hair to one side to examine her wound. As he knelt beside her, two paramedics ran into the room. One of them dropped to the ground beside Melinda. The other stepped over to Helen.

  "What's your name, Ma'am?" the officer asked.
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  "Helen. Helen Brody."

  Are you injured anywhere besides your arm?" he asked as he eased her jacket off her left shoulder.

  "Nothing's wrong with my arm," Helen said, impatient. "Melinda's hurt. You need to help her."

  The paramedic cut her jacket away from her arm and folded the material back. "Looks like you were shot," he said.

  "What?" Helen stared at the bleeding gash on her arm. "How...I didn't feel a thing." It hurt now that she'd looked at it, though. Hurt like hell.

  "Not uncommon," he said as he cleaned and put a Telfa pad over the wound, then bandaged it. "Adrenaline masks the pain. Don't worry, you'll feel it in a moment." He held her gaze. "I think the bullet just grazed you, but we'll let the doctor figure it out. I'm going to start an IV, get some pain meds into you and then we'll get you to the hospital."

  A sharp pain in her hand, then it felt cold. A minute later, her eyes drifted closed. All she could think about was Jamie. She wanted him. But he had to take care of Melinda's kids.

  "Melinda's kids," she said, her head suddenly fuzzy and her mouth full of cotton. Pain meds kicking in. "My...Jamie has them. He's getting them slushies. At the...across the street."

  The paramedic's hands stilled on her. "Were the kids here when this happened? Were they hurt?"

  "No." She was suddenly cold. Freezing. She couldn't stop shivering. "Jamie took them away."

  The paramedic glanced behind her. "Hey, Stevenson, the vic's kids are across the street with someone named Jamie." He glanced at Helen, and she managed to nod. "Sounds like he got them out before the shooting started."

  "On it," the cop replied. "I'll call DCFS."

  The paramedic who'd bandaged her wound eased her against the wall. "You're going into shock. Don't move. The ambulance will be here in a moment."

  Helen rested against the wall, dizzy and light-headed. Her arm throbbed, but it didn't matter. She was content to sit here. Except for Jamie. She wanted Jamie.

  He was taking care of Melinda's kids.

  Linc and Andrea's mother had been shot. Would they be orphans?

  "How's...how is Melinda?" she said, forming the words carefully.