Stopping at the foot of his bed, Alex lowered his arms, rolled his neck across his shoulders, and exhaled slow and deep, forcing himself to chill the fuck out. Pacing a hole in his floor wasn’t going to solve anything. And he’d reached the answers he knew he needed to accept.
Hell, there’d never really been any question of what he should do, had there?
Throwing his discarded jeans over a chair, he climbed into bed wearing his boxers and stretched out on the cool sheets, enjoying the slight chill from the air-conditioning vent as it blew across his tension-drawn body. Staring up at his shadowed ceiling, Alex couldn’t help but laugh at himself when he realized where his thoughts had taken him. Here he was going on about what he was willing to give her, as if Brit were begging him for more, when that sure as hell hadn’t been the case. Sure, she probably would have enjoyed some sort of show of affection after the sex, as well as a few nice words tonight before they went to bed, but what woman wouldn’t have? That was simply the way they were programmed. It didn’t mean she wanted more from him than he’d given her. For all he knew, she liked his big dick, but felt the rest of him was barely tolerable.
Shit, given the way he’d acted around her the past couple of years, why would she feel any differently? It wasn’t like he’d ever made any kind of effort to show her who he was, because it’d been safer just to keep as far off her radar as possible.
But now that he’d touched her, he knew he’d been wrong in thinking sex would be the answer to his problems. It was his goddamn theme at the moment, since he just kept making one dumbass mistake after another. He’d been counting on this incessant craving he had for her to at least fade a bit after such a hot, thorough fucking. Two of them, actually. But it hadn’t. If anything, it’d only made it worse, sharpening the ache until it throbbed like a wound under his skin.
Without a doubt, his entire strategy had blown up in his face, and now it was too late. He was already hooked in even deeper. Completely addicted.
And wondering how long he would have to wait before he could get his hands on her again. Not to mention a whole bunch of his other body parts.
He must have finally dozed off at some point, because he woke up just after 5 a.m., drenched in sweat, his heart pounding. Sitting up at the side of his bed, he scrubbed his hands down his face as pieces of the weird-ass dream he’d been having began coming back to him.
He’d been treading water in the middle of a dark, violent ocean, trying to reach Brit’s lifeless body as she was tossed about in the waves, her auburn hair streaming like skeins of blood in the churning sea. He kept shouting her name and trying to reach her, only to have a swell pull her farther away whenever he grazed her cold skin with his fingertips.
It’d been a harrowing, gut-shredding nightmare, and he had to take a moment to shake his head and laugh at himself when he thought about what the doc would make of it. There was no doubt some deep-seated psychological meaning to the dream, and no way in hell was he laying that in her lap. She already thought he was screwed up enough as it was.
Figuring he might as well get dressed and get in an early morning workout, since he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, he’d just reached out to turn on his bedside light when his cell phone started ringing on his nightstand. Knowing it had to be important for someone to be calling so early, Alex quickly grabbed for the phone, puzzled when he didn’t recognize the number.
“Hudson,” he said in a clipped voice. “Who is this?”
“Mr. Hudson, this is Director Stevens at the McNamara Clinic. We’ve had a problem here at the center. Dr. Cramer’s office has been vandalized. One of our officers noticed the damage when he was doing his rounds and put the call in. I came down here to see for myself before notifying you, and it isn’t pretty. I’m thinking this was definitely that Shepherd guy we talked about on Thursday.”
Squeezing the bridge of his nose so hard that it hurt, he cursed under his breath. “What’s he done?”
“Trashed the hell out of everything, and from the looks of it, jacked off on a photo she had on her desk of her and some friends.”
Son of a bitch, he thought, scrubbing his hand over his mouth as his head dropped back. He knew that photo. He’d seen it yesterday, around about the time when he’d had her beautiful body spread out on her desk and his tongue buried deep in her cunt. It was a photo that had been taken after Ben and Reese’s rehearsal dinner, all of them standing and laughing on the beach. Brit was wearing a sleeveless gray dress, and she looked phenomenal. The idea of Shepherd staring at that happy smile on her face while touching himself made bile rise in the back of Alex’s throat, while a cold, sickening fear slithered through his veins.
“Was it just vandalism,” he scraped out, “or does it look like he was searching for anything?”
Stevens thanked someone for a cup of coffee that must have just been handed to him, then answered the question. “One of my tech guys is going over her computer. He says that someone did an extensive search of her non-password-protected files about two hours ago, and that they also accessed most of her contact information for friends and family. He seems to have been searching for personal information about her.”
Shit! The fucker was probably trying to get his hands on the addresses of her relatives, thinking she might be staying with them.
“Anything else?”
“He left a scrawled note on a piece of paper,” Stevens replied. “Most of it’s fairly illegible, as if his hand was shaking when he wrote it, but we’ve been able to make out a few phrases about how he’ll keep looking for her, waiting for her. Typical stalker bullshit. Then there’s something about how he’s going to make her pay for not wanting him the way he wants her. That he’ll, quote, ‘kill the dark-haired fucker’ he saw her with here at the clinic. That sounds like you, Hudson. You should be on your guard.”
“I can take care of myself. It’s Cramer I’m worried about.”
“We all are. I’ve known Dr. Cramer for over a year now and I’ve always liked her. Just keep taking care of her, and I’ll handle things here. One of my guards is currently putting a call in to the sheriff’s department so that they can get their forensics team out here. Then I’ll arrange for a cleaning crew to come in and do a heavy-duty job on the place. Should have everything back to normal for her by Monday morning.”
Alex thanked him and ended the call, staring blankly at the far wall as he worked everything over in his head.
The bastard was getting desperate, and Alex was no longer comfortable with the idea of Brit being at her office without him there to watch over her. Damn it, he wasn’t comfortable with her being out in the open at all in this town. Which led him to wondering how hard it would be to convince her to lay low there at his place with him until Shepherd was caught.
Better yet, he wanted her out of town altogether, at least for the weekend, and he suddenly knew exactly what would work. He had a buddy in Miami who had been asking him to come over and talk to a woman about a potential pro bono case, which Alex sometimes did for women who were in trouble. Thinking this could be the perfect way to get Brit away for a few days, Alex scrolled through the contacts on his phone until he found Diaz’s number, then gave him a call.
The next call he made was to Ryder. Alex kept it short and brief, letting the deputy know what had happened at Brit’s office, that he was taking her out of town for a few days, and that he wanted every last resource the department had searching for Shepherd. Ryder was cool about the whole thing, saying he knew where Alex was coming from, and considering what had happened last fall with Lily, he figured the guy probably did. Hell, Ryder had been in love with Lily when her life had been put on the line, which must have made the entire situation even more intolerable.
He couldn’t imagine how he would be reacting if he were in a similar circumstance with the doc. Even though they were only friends, and not very close ones at that, fury was nowhe
re near a strong enough word to describe how he felt about the way this fucker was messing with her life. The way he’d slunk in right under their noses and touched her things, violating her privacy. Her sense of safety. The idea of Shepherd being in her personal space, jacking off over her desk, made him want to howl with outrage and go for the guy’s blood.
He was giving Ryder the weekend to find Shepherd, and then he was going to deal with the problem himself. Ryder had warned him on Wednesday night, when he’d taken Brit in to give her statement at the station, that he needed to stay back as much as he could and let them handle the situation. But so far they hadn’t managed to handle shit, and he wasn’t going to stand around doing nothing when her safety was hanging in the balance.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized Miami was a fucking brilliant idea. Shepherd’s tenacity was worrying the hell out of him, and Alex just wanted her someplace safe. He knew it was a knee-jerk reaction, but he wanted her out of this damn town, if just for a few days. Needed to get her away, on his own, where they could take a moment to unwind without feeling like someone was breathing down their necks, watching them from the shadows, taking note of their every move.
Grabbing a quick shower, he threw on a clean T-shirt and pair of jeans, then walked across the hall to the guest bedroom, where Brit was sleeping. She’d closed the door, but hadn’t bothered to lock it. The light from the hallway spilled into the shadowed room as he opened the door, and he could easily make out her sleeping form on the near side of the bed, her red hair gleaming against the white pillowcase.
Careful not to startle her, Alex sat down on the bed near her hip and reached for her shoulder, intending to gently jostle her awake. But just as his fingers grazed her skin, she cried out, throwing her arms up, as if she wanted to hold someone away from her, or shield herself.
He’d have thought she would shout Shepherd’s name, if she was frightened, but that wasn’t what she gasped. No, it’d sounded like she’d cried for someone named Jason to leave her alone.
What the hell?
“Damn it, Doc, it’s me,” he said in a low voice, as she scrambled back from him. “It’s Alex.”
“Ohmyg-god,” she stammered, moving up against the headboard as she struggled to catch her breath. She blinked rapidly, as if trying to convince herself she was awake. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out on you. I just . . .”
“What the fuck was that about?” He winced at the harshness of his question, his voice little more than a snarl, but the direction his thoughts were taking was seriously pissing him off.
“N-nothing.”
“Don’t,” he warned her, shaking his head. He reached over and turned the bedside lamp on to its lowest setting, illumining the room in a muted glow. “Don’t even think about it.”
She stiffened at his tone, sliding him a worried look as she lifted her hand and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “It was nothing,” she murmured, obviously trying to sound convincing. “I was just having a bad dream.”
“About some guy named Jason?”
“Um, yeah. I guess.” Her eyelids flickered, and he knew she was lying to him.
“Cut the bullshit, Doc.” He rubbed his hand over the unshaven edge of his jaw. “Who is he?”
“Who is who?”
Protectiveness, along with a shocking dose of possessiveness, had his voice sounding even huskier than usual. “This Jason guy. Who the hell is he, and why did you try to protect yourself when you thought I was him?”
Tugging self-consciously at the hem of her short blue nightgown, which barely reached the tops of her thighs, she said, “Alex, it’s the middle of the night and I’m half asleep. Why are you even in here?”
“It’s not the middle of the night, Brit. It’s almost six in the morning. And we’re not discussing anything until you answer my question.”
“You are so freaking stubborn!”
His tone was flat, but firm. “So says my ex-wife and pretty much anyone who knows me. So get on with it.”
“He was just a guy that I knew,” she said with exasperation. “We dated for a while. End of story.”
His brows pulled together, creasing his forehead. “I don’t remember you dating anyone named Jason.”
She shot him a curious look, no doubt wondering why he’d been keeping track of the guys she’d dated since they met. “It was before I moved to Moss Beach,” she explained, her tight voice making it clear that she didn’t want to be sharing any of this with him. “He was a detective who worked with Ben in Miami. That was actually how I met him.”
“What happened?”
When she started to look away, he reached out and gently grasped her chin, letting her know with his touch that he was prepared to sit there all damn day until she finally gave him the truth.
“He had issues with his temper,” she finally murmured. “Ones I should have seen before things got out of hand.”
He swept his thumb against her soft skin. “He hit you?”
“Only once,” she admitted, staring at his chin while her face flushed with heat. “But once was enough.”
His thumb stopped moving the instant she answered his question. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm as he lowered his hand. Very softly, he asked, “Where is he now?”
She lifted her wide eyes to his. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
She shook her head. “Leave it, Alex. He isn’t worth your time.”
“He’s worth a hell of a lot more than my time, Doc. He deserves to have his motherfucking ass kicked.”
Her lips slowly curled with a smirk. “I won’t argue with that,” she murmured. Then her mouth flattened, and she added, “But not by you.”
He didn’t say anything in response, and she pulled the sheet over her legs as she brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.
“It’s okay, you know. I wasn’t seriously injured or anything, Alex. I got the hell out as soon as I could and never had anything to do with him again. I might be stubborn, but I refused to be a victim.”
“Did Ben know?”
Her eyes went wide again. “God, no. He would have killed him.”
Alex couldn’t help but snort. “And you think I won’t?”
“Yes.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because,” she said quietly, staring back at him with those big, beautiful eyes, “it’s one of the few things I’ll ask of you.”
He grunted, wondering why it was so easy for this woman to get under his skin. It was more than just the fact that she was incredibly gorgeous and sexy as hell. There was just something about her. About the way she smiled and laughed and looked at him. And when she looked at him like she was right now, he was damn tempted to do whatever she wanted him to.
Placing his hand on her knee, he gave it a light squeeze. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
“Don’t be. I lo— I mean, I like the way you touch me.” She blushed so hot he figured he would have been able to feel the heat against his fingertips if he touched her face again. The idea of anyone ever marring that tender, delicate skin or raising a hand to it in anger, whether it was Shepherd or some other asshole, made him livid.
And now he was more determined than ever to get her to agree to go away with him.
He noticed the way her chest rose as she took a deep breath, her breasts pressing against the silky material of her gown or nightie or whatever women called them. Then she scooted over a little, and pulled back the sheet. “Do you want to lie down with me for a while and get some more sleep?”
Now was the time to tell her about her office, but he held his tongue. He wanted to get her away so that she could enjoy herself, and that wasn’t going to happen if he brought up the break-in and vandalism. She’d be too concerned with getting over to the clinic to
check on everything, potentially putting herself in more danger, not to mention the upset he knew seeing her office in that kind of shape would cause her. Deciding to keep the information to himself until they got back, Alex reached over to flick the lamp to a higher setting, and said, “It’s actually time to rise and shine, Doc. We’ve got to hit the road.”
“The road?” she murmured, blinking against the brighter light. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s why I came in here,” he rumbled, pushing his hand back through his hair, the gesture always a sure sign of his nerves. “I wanted to know if we can call a truce?”
She looked surprised, and then her lips twisted with a crooked smile. “Are we at war or something, Alex?”
He could feel the color rising in his face, and realized he was botching the entire thing. He felt like an idiot. “No, of course not.”
She didn’t respond, simply waiting for him to explain, and in a moment of panic he found himself wondering again if this was a good idea. Was it?
Fuck it. Of course it wasn’t. The more time he spent with her, the deeper he was going to get. He knew it as surely as he knew that Mike was a player and his ex-wife was a bitch. But he still couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I was, uh, hoping we could let everything go for a few days and just . . . get away. Something’s come up and I need to head over to Miami today, and I don’t want to leave you.”
“Oh. Um, that’s okay,” she murmured, tucking a glossy strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sure I can stay with Ryder and Lily or something. I’ll be fine.”
Fighting against the knee-jerk impulse to back down and save face, he moved to his feet and kept his gaze locked on hers. “But it wouldn’t be fine with me. I need to know that you’re safe, Brit.” A wry grin ghosted his lips. “And I’m arrogant enough to believe that I’m the best person for the job.”
Her beautiful mouth twitched in response to his husky admission, her eyes bright as she looked up at him. “I wasn’t trying to say that you aren’t. Ben thinks you are. And I happen to agree with him.”
Keep Me Closer (A Dangerous Tides Novel) Page 11