Blood trickled into her eyes, and the seatbelt cut into her waist. Pinned upside down, she tried to prop herself up for relief. But nothing could provide that. A large sob escaped her as salty tears blurred her already fuzzy vision. Searing pain pulsed through her body, but her ankle…oh shit. It felt as if a million nails were being driven into it, splitting it into pieces. Carefully she tried to move it, forcing her mind to concentrate on the task despite its throbbing. But no amount of willpower would budge it. Already she could feel it swelling.
A new panic swept through her and for a moment all she could think of was impossible escape. She reached down slowly and unsnapped herself. All dead weight, she fell hard against the roof. A moan caught in her throat, and she stifled it back as a new idea hit her.
If she ran now, no doubt Kurt would catch her. Maybe her best bet was to play dead. She let her body fall limp, but unfortunately her plan did, too.
Kurt’s fist busted through the side window and she screamed. His hands grasped her by the hair and yanked, dragging her through the broken glass. It cut through her clothes and dug into her skin, but she didn’t utter a peep.
Damned if she would beg.
He wrenched her up onto her feet. Agony shot through her ankle, and she stumbled backward, fighting to keep her balance in a world of spinning pain.
Kurt jerked her up again. “You look like hell, Kirsten.”
“Fuck off.”
The back of his hand rose up and hit her hard across the face. Dizzy, Kirsten could hardly acknowledge her stinging cheek as she stumbled right into his grasp.
“I want what’s mine, Kirsten.” The hiss of his words breathed down on her, his stale breath laced with cigars. It gagged her, the smell of his threats sickening. Bile rose up in her throat, and before she could help it, she spewed all over his feet.
“Awww. Bitch. You stupid bitch.” With a hard thrust, he shoved her backwards and she tumbled to the ground with a thud.
The taste of vomit burned in her throat, and she propped herself up to spit its remaining vileness from her mouth. With a swipe of her sleeve, she wiped her mouth clean and tried to swallow. She wanted to face him, woman to man. Not wallow on the ground like a coward. She started to push up then stopped. The anger radiating from him froze her.
Whatever it took to stay alive, she had to do it. Even beg. “Please Kurt…I’m sorry. Be reasonable about this. You don’t want to kill me.”
“Reasonable? Hah! You should have thought of that before you stole from me.”
Hard as she tried, her tongue couldn’t be held. “You know damn good and well you gave me the convertible.”
“I’m not talking about the Vette. I’m talking about what was in it, and you know it. Don’t play the idiot with me.” He reached down and grasped her by the chin. The painful grip yanked her up to face his venomous words. “I didn’t pay all this money to track you down to go home empty handed. Info from the California State Police doesn’t come cheap, you know. I want what is mine. Where is it? Tell me now and maybe I’ll let you live. I’ll just cut out your tongue.”
Soft fingers caressed her jaw, their tenderness more terrifying than his hard gaze.
“I swear I don’t know.”
His fist rose in the air. “Then I’ll just have to beat it out of you.”
12
Reid pressed down hard on the gas and the car flew down the tar and chip road. Rocks spattered against the wheel wells as the speedometer reached eighty, then ninety, then a hundred.
Seven years had passed since he’d driven at such outrageous speeds, yet the thought of it didn’t even faze him. The only thing that mattered was finding Kirsten. Fast.
Thank God he’d never sold the Camaro. Thank God.
It was a miracle he’d even been able to coax it into starting. For years dust had coated it as it sat buried in the very back of the barn, hidden even from him. He hadn’t wanted to touch the fast car he’d driven as a young guy. After his parents died he hadn’t dared to speed.
But now he damn well did. The stinking car couldn’t go fast enough. If he didn’t find Kirsten soon, he might never find her.
Like a runaway train, his heart pumped a million beats a minute. The thumps rang in his ears and pierced the air, even over the roar of the engine. His stomach knotted in worry as sweat trickled down the back of his neck.
The cuffs were still locked around his hands, the cold metal chafing his skin. Red welts circled his wrists. But he didn’t care. Only one thing mattered. Getting Kirsten back, safe and sound.
Reid held tight to the wheel and pushed harder on the pedal.
Ready to strike, Kurt loomed over her and he meant business. She didn’t know what to do besides tell a lie. Right now she’d do just about anything, anything, to get him off her back.
“Wait Kurt. I’ll tell you.” Her voice shook as much as she did. Her body shuddered at the thought of what he would do to her. This man wouldn’t just beat her. He’d kill her, without a second thought or moment’s remorse.
It couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let it.
Darts of ice spat from his eyes, their blueness clouded with gray thunder. A violent chill ran straight down her spine.
“Spit it out,” he roared with the fury of a lion.
Oh God, how could she tell him where it was hidden when she didn’t even know what it was?
Think fast, Kirsten.
A million plans raced through her mind, not one of them worthy. Then it hit her. Perhaps she could lead him back to Reid. Somehow she knew he’d protect her at all costs, and besides, wasn’t he sheriff? Who better to run to than a man with his own gun, and a badge at that?
She prayed he’d gotten rid of those handcuffs by now. Wincing at the thought, she cursed herself a thousand times for leaving him like that.
Unconsciously, she shook her head. Kurt grasped her by the hair and yanked her onto her feet. His face contorted into a warning, a deadly threat.
“It’s…it’s in the Sheriff’s barn…hidden under the hay.” Kirsten stuttered out.
“Now why would you leave two pounds of cocaine in a sheriff’s barn? Come on Kirsten, don’t expect me to buy that.”
Oh, God, she’d run off with his drugs? She’d left because of them, and instead she took them with her?
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Anger once again seethed within her, and she had to ask. “Why were drugs in my car?”
Kurt laughed at her like a little boy who’s gotten away with a naughty trick. “You’re just so naïve Kirsten. Do you think I really bought you those cars because I loved you? You’re just some country bumpkin, one who has been running drugs for me for years now.”
“No way,” Kirsten whispered incredulously.
“Oh yes, way. I hid them in your car under the spare tire, and the dealers had the keys. All I had to do was call them and let them know where you’d be for them to make a pick up.”
The bastard! If only she could punch him. Hard. Right in that damned perfect nose of his. Oh, it would make her feel so very much better.
How could he have done that to her? How could she have been such a fool? Well, never again.
Eyes narrowed, she looked at him intently. “Why are you telling me this now?”
When she heard her own question, she snapped her mouth shut. Oh God, that had been the wrong question to ask. There could only be one answer.
Kurt just laughed, his tone full and hearty and ever so dangerous.
Kirsten’s mind raced. No wonder he’d gone to such trouble to find her. Damn it, he wouldn’t be getting them back, any more than he’d get away with this. Those drugs were her proof, her freedom, and Kurt’s biggest slipup. If she had anything to do with it, they’d put him away for a long, long time.
Kirsten drew a slight breath and willed her voice to be cool. “No, I did. I swear. The sheriff isn’t exactly the sharpest. I even seduced him into letting me go. I planned to send someone back for it when things cooled, maybe sell them to star
t a new life. But they’re still there, I promise. I can take you to them. They’ll be hard to find.”
His evil eyes slanted, a grin curling up the corners of his evil mouth. Kurt shoved her.
“Nope, but thanks anyway.” Gun raised, Kurt aimed directly for her head. “Too bad I have to kill you. You could have had it good with me, Kristen.”
A rush of adrenaline flooded her body. It erased her pain, and turned her fear into power. Damned if she’d go down without a fight. With a silent prayer she whirled and took off, her feet flying beneath her. Behind her the shot rang out, its loud echo booming around her like a fireworks exploding on the fourth.
A razor-like pain sliced into her and she fell. The world went black.
Reid dropped his aim as Kurt went down. The gun caught on his cuffs, and he slung it to the ground. The slime ball wouldn’t be going anywhere with the bullet he’d just shot in his knee.
His heart thumped in his throat at the sight of Kirsten lying sprawled on the ground, lifeless. Panic swept him into a race to her side, but common sense stopped him short. First he needed to secure Kurt and disarm him. Then he’d find out how badly the scoundrel’s shot had injured her.
On one knee he knelt beside the groaning half-unconscious man. A steady pulse beat in his neck. Just to be safe, Reid yanked off his belt, fumbling with the maddening cuffs locked around his own wrists. After a struggle, he managed to secure Kurt’s wrists behind his back and then Reid grabbed up Kurt’s handgun. In a fury, he tossed the weapon a good distance away, and sprinted to Kirsten. Facedown in the grass, she lay unmoving until he touched her. Then she stirred and started to struggle to get up, obviously in a panic.
“Don’t move. Let me check you out.” She stilled at his words. With careful fingers, he searched over her, careful not to move her. The only injury he found was a flesh wound on her shoulder, barely more than a scrape.
“Is it bad?” Kristen moaned.
Reid couldn’t help a little chuckle. “Oh yeah. You might need a band aid.”
With that, Kirsten flung around, eyes wide. “I’m okay?”
He pulled her tight. “Oh yeah, hon, you’re fine.”
Kirsten stared at Kurt who lay facedown in the field, a puddle of blood beginning to form around him.
“You must have shot him at the same time he was pulling the trigger and knocked him off.” She snuggled into his arms, and tiny tears began to slide down her face. “He would have killed me.”
“But he didn’t.” Reid rocked her in his arms, never more grateful in all his life. “He didn’t.”
She swiped away her tears and gazed up at him. “How did you know?”
“Kurt ransacked the house. Tore it all up.”
“He must have been looking for his drugs…they’re in the car, I think.”
Drugs. Just like Kirsten had pleaded with him to believe in the first place. And all along, the proof had been there. Damn it. Why hadn’t he searched the car?
This whole weekend could have been different.
Hell, maybe he couldn’t go back. But he could go forward, and if she were willing, he could do it with her.
Almost losing Kirsten had taught him one very important thing. Empty couldn’t even begin to describe his life with her gone.
Maybe he hardly knew her, but he needed her, in more ways than one.
“Good.” Reid nodded. “This is all the proof I need. Kirsten Montgomery, you are cleared and freed as far as I am concerned. Now will you be mine?”
Kirsten chuckled, and sniffed. “Do you mean it?”
“The thing is, I could really use some help decorating. And you did seem awful interested in that.” He tried to sound nonchalant—tried. “What do you think? Give me another chance? You never know, you might even come to like me.”
An incredible smile lit her face, laced with a hint of orneriness. “Deal. But does this mean I get to go shopping?”
Contentment filled Reid. His little hellcat could have whatever she wanted, so long as he got his. Leaning down, he stole her lips and embraced them with his fire for her. After he tasted every corner of her mouth, he broke away and whispered. “You, sugar, can buy whatever you want, whenever you want.”
Epilogue
“Shopping again?” With a slight chuckle, Reid crossed the kitchen, two little brown pups with icy blue eyes bumbling under his feet. With careful shifts to avoid them, he reached to help her with her bags.
Thankful, she let him take the three blue plastic bags of groceries. They were so heavy, they’d rubbed lines into her hands.
“Hey, you said whatever, whenever, I want.” Kirsten shrugged her shoulders and tossed the mail down on the counter. A package lay on top, unmarked and wrapped in brown paper. Gingerly, she sorted through the pile, and let that one rest.
Reid began stacking formula into the cupboards. “That was four years ago.”
“So?” She threw back. “Two little ones eat a lot, you know.”
“They’re with your mother this week.”
“But they’ll be back.”
With a hearty laugh, he dropped the bags and grabbed her, wrapping his arms tight around her. With curious, narrowed eyes, Reid pointed to the package. “Hey, what’s that?”
“You’ll see.”
Without another word, she strode from the kitchen, all too aware of him following. Before he could trail her into the bathroom, she slammed the door shut, and snapped the lock.
“Hey, what’s the deal?”
“You’ll see.”
With a quick tear, she ripped open the package and pulled a new negligee from it. Black lace, and silk: it was a tantalizing combination of both naughty and nice.
Since the last baby three months ago, things between had been a little slow. It was time to spice them back up.
After a pair of fishnet stockings, she slipped on the negligee and then a pair of high heels. One look in the mirror revealed a woman ready for loving. In her head, she turned on the music, its beat high and thumping, then opened the door.
With one leg, she kicked out for a tease and then ran her body up and down the doorframe.
Jaw hanging, mesmerized by her every movement, Reid stared. Slowly he dropped to sit on the edge of the bed.
Kirsten danced, her body titillating, and swerving. Hips rocking to her imaginary beat, every move making her body hot, and his heat more visibly ready beneath the strain of his blue jeans.
She moved closer, until she stood right over his lap, where she shook and taunted him with her curves. With her teeth, she released the buttons on his Levi’s, and grabbed his cock in her mouth. It sprang forward, ready for attention. Eagerly, she savored it, running her teeth and tongue up and down the stretched, heated skin.
Her pussy dripped with desire, her nipples hardened into two buds that strained against the lace of the negligee. The texture of the fabric against her soft skin tantalized her tender breasts, and made her ever so hot.
She stood and straddled him, his thick rod slipping into her slick slit, and she cried out in pure ecstasy. Riding him with hard thrusts, Kirsten took what she wanted, his cock her tool into heaven.
Together they exploded then collapsed. Reid pulled her close, and murmured, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
“Almost as much as I love you?”
Reid rolled over on top of her, attacking her with tickles. Laughing and gasping for air, she struggled against him to no avail.
“Okay, okay. I give. You love me the same as I love you, which is very, very much.”
“Forever, hellcat,” he growled as he captured her lips into a hungry embrace. “Forever.”
DETROIT’S FINEST
Renée Alexis
It was a beautiful spring day in Detroit, nice and hot, a convertible day for those who had one. I wasn’t one of those people, yet my 1995 Camry had all four windows down and I was flying with the wind—literally. I decided that since it was such a beautiful day, why not go to the mall for lunch? I was g
iven an extended lunch, since my floor at the police department had to be evacuated due to a criminal at large. I took advantage of two hours and went shopping like any other red-blooded American female would have.
As I lingered over my martini at Dublin’s Bistro, I noticed the time. Damn, just when I was getting started with my own personal party, it was time to get back to work. Surely, every cop in the building with their expert bloodhound abilities had captured whoever it was they were looking for. That didn’t help my cause, however. I needed more time to find a nice miniskirt to try to entice this cop whose trail I was on. Another day maybe. Good thing I had already purchased my new Swiss Army watch. A good timepiece was what I really needed since I was prone to extended lunches—all at the expense of Detroit’s finest.
The police department knew me, knew my tactics and expected me to be late to work. Not that day, what with reports to be filed for an audit. That was my job, filing—yeah, really big time, I know, but someone low on the totem pole had to do it, why not me for my $11.85 per hour? Yes, I can see it now, in about one hundred years, I’ll have enough dough to get that Benz I’ve been drooling over since the tender age of five.
I flew down I-75 to make time, as did every car. The average speed for that freeway was Mach #1, and my Camry moved into warp speed as well as any other car out there. The bad thing, I passed my exit. I kept going, but no other exit was in the immediate vicinity. What was a late girl to do? You guessed it, drive across the median and come out looking and smelling like a rose.
Almost!
My rose wilted the minute the flashing red sirens attached to a navy blue and white Crown Victoria caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “Darn!” I was late enough as it was. I didn’t need Detroit’s Finest on my ass—well, except for the one I had seen on the eight floor. I looked down at my new watch, counting the minutes as he decided to get out of his car and write the damn eighty-thousand-dollar ticket! At that point, I really didn’t care about the ticket. All I wanted was to get back to work before my boss, Daisha Miller, AKA Queen Bitch of the Universe, docked me.
The Cop Page 14