Knock! Knock! Knockknockknock! Emma groggily came to, wondering what the knocking was about in her already fading dream. She slowly cracked open her eyes, sunlight bathing her shivering body. Where am I? She wondered. Everything came flooding back to her.
“Hey!”
Emma looked outside of her window and screamed. A man was standing outside of her window, a large man, blocking most of the sunlight. She reached for her gun before remembering what she was doing here. She willed herself to calmly move her hand away from the butt of her pistol and get out of the police cruiser.
The wave of cold air that hit her took the breath from her lungs. The man said something, but she didn't catch it. Eyes watering, she asked, “What?”
“Are you gonna turn that thing off?”
“Turn what thing off?”
“The car. It's been running for hours.”
Emma turned back to the car, reaching in and turning the ignition off. The car was bordering on E. Just another problem. “Why didn't you come wake me up hours ago?”
He barked a deep, rough laugh. “I try not to associate with cops, but the boss says that maybe we're expecting some.”
They moved towards the building, Emma following and zipping her coat up. The man in front of her was large and only wearing a cut off T-shirt with dirty, oily jeans. The cold didn't seem to faze him. The wave of warm air inside of the building was a welcome relief. The man kept moving, but Emma took a few moments to take the scene in, her senses as a cop letting her analyze her surroundings quickly.
There was a bar, complete with bar stools, running along the right wall. A hallway was immediately off to her right and a lounging area took up most of the room on the left. There was a massive set of double doors on the far wall and the man – shifter, she thought – disappeared down a hallway to the right of the doors.
He led her down the hallway, not saying a word. She was a little bit surprised how deserted and quiet the whole building was. She shivered again despite the warmth, realizing she didn't want to be in a building completely full of criminals, no matter that Brock had vouched for them. The man opened the door at the end of the hallway and ushered her inside. Emma took a deep breath, and entered.
An older man sat behind a desk. Despite his age, his hulking form seemed to take up most of the room. He leaned forward, shaking her hand with a hand like a grizzled paw that engulfed hers. It was rough, like sandpaper, and the handshake was firm, like she would have expected.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, cutting right to the chase. Emma nearly winced at the roughness in his voice. This was a man who'd been through a lot. Who was probably… a criminal.
“I need protection.”
“Well, don't they all,” he said, his short laughing barking through the room. “Let's get down to business.”
Most of what Joe had said went in one ear and out the other. What she remembered, as she walked to the room she was given, was that she had a shifter assigned to her for protection. Jake? Jack? Jace!
“Here's your room,” the shifter from before said, using a key to unlock it. “Make yourself at home. Jace won't be in for a few hours, so you've got some time to burn.”
Inside of the room, Emma was surprised to find it pretty bare. She imagined these shifter bodyguards would have some personality...but the room was bland. There was a window with a dark curtain pulled over it, a small bed, and a recliner in front of an old tube TV. Emma pulled the curtain to the side, illuminating the room with thousands of tiny dust motes floating through the air. Outside, she was greeted with the perfect view of a parking lot full vehicles in varying states of disrepair.
She opened a door, pleased to find a small bathroom. She hesitantly smelled herself, realizing she was way overdue for a shower. Plus, she had a few hours to kill. She went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. It wouldn't latch, but she'd locked the door to the room, so it hardly mattered.
She stripped down, hopping in the shower. The water pressure sucked, and she had to use man soap, but it was glorious. She wasn't sure how long she stayed in the shower, but when she eventually got out, she heard the door open to the room.
Emma froze, unsure of what to do. Could it be the man assigned to guard her? No, he was supposed to be gone for hours, and besides, she heard two men talking. She wasn't able to make out what they were saying, so she padded over to the door, still sopping wet. She pressed an ear to the door, trying to hear. One man, who sounded angry, kept rambling on, and the other man replied with short, one word answers.
She still couldn't make out much, so she leaned against the door a little bit more, but the door latch gave under her weight, sending her into the room. As the door swung open, Emma's eyes wide, taking in everything: a large man with shoulder length brown hair and a thick, dark beard. His golden eyes went almost as wide as hers, his mouth open but not saying anything. In one hand, he held a phone. So, there's only one man in the room. Better than two, flashed through her mind.
And then she hit the floor, bouncing and rolling. She let out a muffled, “Oomph!” Ending up on her back, she stared up at the man. He stood over her, his massive body blocking out the one dim light bulb in the room. Still, she noticed that even shadowed, his eyes were still piercing. She watched as his eyes slowly trailed down from her face, to her exposed breasts, then down to the place between her legs. If possible, his eyes went even wider.
She screamed. Oh, my God! He's just seen me naked! Emma rolled up, covering herself the best she could with two hands. “Don't look!”
The man tossed the phone onto the chair, turning around and grabbing the corner of one of his sheets, ripping it off of his bed in a flourish. He handed it to her, attempting to keep his eyes diverted. Face blazing red, Emma took the sheet and covered herself. It was sheer, but still gave a little bit of privacy. Not that he hasn't already seen everything he needs to see, she thought.
“What are you doing in here?' Emma asked.
“This is my room,” the man growled, but he didn't say more.
“Jace?”
The man nodded.
“They said you wouldn't be back for hours.”
A shrug. Well, I didn't want to talk to any shifters anyway, Emma thought. No one told me they would be this attractive…
“I'm going to go get dressed. Don't look,” she said, going back into the bathroom. The door wouldn't completely shut, but it would have to do. She found a towel and dried herself off before pulling on her old clothes.
She came out of the bathroom, still embarrassed, when a knock came at the door. Jace answered, ushering another man inside. This man wore nicer clothes than the others she'd seen, though he was still large and had golden eyes.
“Jace,” he said, as way of introduction, then looked at Emma. “You must be Officer Miller.”
Jace raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing. Emma nodded at him.
“I'm Russell,” he said, extending a soft hand. He couldn't be more different than Joe, she thought. “I've got good news. Your partner's wife and kids arrived a couple of minutes ago. They're being put into protection. There's something else you should know. Your partner, Officer Franklin, is alive.”
“What?” Emma exclaimed. She'd seen him get shot. “That's impossible! They killed him!”
“One of my contacts at the hospital just called me. He's been shot four times and has lost a lot of blood. Another officer was killed. I don't know the specifics yet, but it sounds like he's going to need some protection once the rest of those corrupt cops find out he's still alive.”
“I need to go see him!”
“No,” Jace uttered, short and final.
“Yes!” Emma moved in front of him, getting in my face. “You might not know what it's like to have a partner, to rely on someone with your life on a daily basis, but that man is the only reason I'm alive! I have to see him!”
Jace stood silent for a few seconds, before nodding.
“Derrick and Judge are free,” Rus
sell offered.
“Derrick? Clive won't be happy,” Jace said. It was the most Emma had heard him say since she'd met him.
“Joe said he's ready,” Russell said, shrugging. “I don't make the rules. If you want him to help protect Officer Franklin, then he's available. If you don't, it'll just have to be Judge.”
“He needs all of the help he can get,” Emma said, sternly.
To her surprise, Jace said, “You're right. Let's go. Thanks, Russ.”
Emma hadn't seen Tammy or the kids before they'd left. It had only taken a few minutes to find Derrick and Judge before the four of them had piled into a brown SUV. Derrick was young – dark hair a stark contrast to his golden eyes, yet still huge. Watching him walk, taking everything in, she knew he would have made a good cop. If he hadn't chose this shifter life, she ruminated.
Judge was lean, dark skinned shifter with a bald head. Still, he was huge. His eyes were cold and calculated. If any of these shifters were killers, then she sure he was guilty. Even the name scared her. Judge. She considered asking him how he got the nickname, but decided against it.
“You must forgive Jace,” Judge said, turning around from the passenger seat. “He's not much of a talker.”
“That's okay with me,” Emma said, shooting Jace a glare. “I wish he could keep his eyes to himself as well as he keeps his mouth shut.”
The men up in the front seat burst into laughter. “Got something you want to tell us, Jace?”
He spoke up. “Yeah. She's a cop. She hates shifters.”
The laughter died. She rolled her shoulders, watching Derrick's eyes narrow in the rear-view mirror. Once again, silence descended on Emma. She didn't know what to say. The last thing she wanted to do was anger three shifters in an enclosed space. She remembered what the last one had done.
“Is that true, Officer Miller. Or can I call you Emma?” Judge asked, all hints of friendship gone. His voice was icy. When she didn't answer, he repeated, “Is that true?”
“I had a bad experience a couple months back with one,” was all she said.
“So you hate all shifters, is that it?” Derrick asked.
“No, that's not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“Shifters aren't looked upon fondly in law enforcement. A lot of shifters are criminals.”
Judge let out a loud laugh. “Indeed! A lot of humans are too! Do you believe everything you're told? Do you believe everything your corrupt coworkers say?”
Emma put her head down, embarrassed. Judge was right, at least for the time being. They were risking their lives to protect her, Brock, and countless others, even if some of them were cops. And because she'd had a bad run in with one shifter, and had heard bad things from her superiors, she'd believed they were all bad. The realization hit her like a truck full of bricks. In seconds, she was sobbing, hands in her face.
“I'm...sorry...” she managed between sobs. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Jace looking at her, concern on his face. For once, she realized she wanted him to say something. Say that everything was alright. That everyone makes mistakes.
“Don't cry,” he said, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. Emma nuzzled into him, tears wet on his shirt. For the first time since all of this started, she felt safe. He whispered, “It's okay.” She found that she believed him.
From the front seat, Emma heard Judge say, “Yeah, and to be fair, a lot of shifters are criminals. And we don't look to fondly on cops. But we're trying to change that.”
Before she knew it, Emma was laughing through her tears while the others chuckled at Judge's admission. The tension in the vehicle was fading, though Emma still felt uneasy. Even though she knew she was in the wrong, she couldn't shake the feeling that this situation couldn't work out. Shifters and police officers were never meant to cooperate, no matter how good of people they actually were. She knew that no matter what she said, law enforcement frowned upon the shifters, and shifters likewise avoided dealing with the police.
Slowly, she pulled away from Jace, finding she was reluctant to do so. As she did, she thought she sensed reluctance on his part, as well. Why would he be reluctant to let me go? She wondered. I'm a cop. He's a shifter. No matter what we're feeling, it can't work out.
The SUV pulled into the hospital parking lot. As Derrick parked, Judge turned around and looked at Emma. “Hey. No hard feelings. Give me a quick run through of what we're up against here.”
“I witnessed a murder a few weeks ago. Corrupt cops tried to cover it up. I exposed them and most of the cops in my precinct got involved in the cover up. Brock – Sergeant Franklin – was the only one who stood by my side. Last night, Officers Anderson and Forman attempted to set me up and kill me. Sergeant Franklin saved my life.”
“From what Russell said, one of them is dead.”
“That would be Forman. Sergeant Franklin shot him a few times.”
“Okay, that's good. We know that Anderson is invested in making sure Sergeant Franklin dies. I don't like that you're here, Emma. He's gunning for you too, but we'll keep you safe. Let's go.”
The four got out of the SUV. The weather was dark and cold. Emma shivered, walking next to Jace, behind the other two shifters.
“Stay close and we'll get through this, no matter what happens,” Jace whispered.
“That's the most I've ever heard you say,” she replied, smiling. To her surprise, Jace flashed her a quick smile before becoming all business. They walked in the front doors and Derrick and Emma headed up to the front desk, finding out where Brock was. The nurse was reluctant at first, until Emma had told her she was his partner.
“He's been asking for you,” the nurse said, instantly cheering up. “Follow me.”
Together, the five of them went down the hallway. Despite the brightness of the hospital, Emma couldn't help but feeling the weight of the building on her conscience. She'd never liked hospitals, and this visit was even worse than normal. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, looking for Anderson or any of the other officers.
“Have there been many other officers visiting?” Emma asked, as casually as she could.
“A few. One named Anderson, I think. He seemed really concerned about Mr. Franklin's health.”
Emma felt the pit of her stomach drop and she watched as the hackles on the three men rose. Tension was in the air. The danger was electric. To the nurse's credit, she didn't seem to notice. They took an elevator up two floors before she lead them to the room, knocked, and was on her way.
Inside, a female doctor was checking on Brock's vitals. She smiled when she saw Emma. “You must be Officer Miller. Emma. Besides his family, you're all he talks about. I'm Doctor Flynn.”
Emma shook her hand and watched her eyes take in each man. Her eyes found their golden eyes and she stiffened slightly. Emma was sure she would have never noticed without her police training. She must not see many shifters in here…
“How's he doing, Doc?” Judge asked.
“Well, all things considered. He took four bullets, three in his chest and one in his neck. He lost a lot of blood and he's not out of the woods yet, but he's a fighter. I'm optimistic.”
Emma watched the smile falter, concern flashing on Doctor Flynn's face for a split second. “What's wrong, Doctor Flynn?”
She hesitated, but then asked, “Can I speak to you out in the hallway, Officer Miller? It has to do with what he's said about his attacker. It's sensitive police information.”
Saddled Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 2) Page 22