“Some kind of…?” Max prompted.
“A bee? Yeah, it was a bee. Sorry, I’m all over the place. I thought I was going to die.”
Max frowned. “Okay, well…do you want to leave? Or should I hold the door open and wait for you to finish whatever you were doing?”
His expression said he’d rather saw off his arm.
“Nope, I’m done, just let me grab the bits of my…just let me grab my phone.”
Without feeling her feet touch the ground, Julia walked to where her phone lay in pieces, the shards glinting at her like tiny black knives. She squatted down, collecting bits of metal and plastic as fast as she could, hotly aware of Max’s gaze on her.
“Ah…how have you been anyway?” Max’s tone was something you reserved for an elderly aunt. Good morning, Aunt Peggy. How are your begonias?
“I’m good thanks. You?”
“I’m fine.”
Silence stretched, long and horrible between them.
Julia let her long brown hair fall in front of her face, hoping it concealed the red that betrayed her every emotion. “What-what are you up to tonight?”
His eyebrows contracted with the implication that it was none of her business. “I’m meeting Bonnie in the city. We’re…going to the football.”
A hateful squirm of jealousy surged through Julia’s stomach. Of course Bonnie and Max were going to the football. Bonnie probably called all the players by their surnames and said things like ‘they’re flooding the backline!’ She, on the other hand, didn’t know the first thing about football, beyond it was boring and emboldened Ash’s boyfriends to drink heavily and abuse the TV.
“Sounds fun.”
Max grunted noncommittally. Julia wanted to declare she was going to a party, an amazing party with boys and alcohol and possibly drugs, but she made herself shut up. Max hadn’t asked what she was doing because he clearly didn’t care. She snuck a glance at him through her hair. She couldn’t tell if he was pissed—the fierce slashes of his eyebrows made him appear unnaturally stern. He had the perfect face for law enforcement; she felt guilty just looking at him. Although that was probably because he was married and she had a big, fat, stupid crush on him.
Actually, it was more like a tiny jagged blade, sharper than the splinters of her phone. That blade was buried in her brain so deep she couldn’t pull it out. God knew Max had given her nothing, not so much a single hello in almost two years, and yet, and yet, and yet, her crush stuttered on like a corrupted MP3 file, making her feel electric and helpless and nauseous and depressed in turns. It was all for nothing, though. Love and sex might be a gamble, but Max Connor was a complete dead end. Julia finished plucking up what had so recently been a working phone and stood. “Okay, I’m ready to leave.”
“You’re lucky I heard you. I almost thought I was imagining the screams.”
Max braced himself against the doorframe. He was much taller than her, which put him well over six feet, and broad. Jacked, as Ash would say. Most cops turned fat in small towns, but Max’s well-honed physique spoke of ambition. Once he earned his stripes in country Victoria, he’d move on to Critical Response or Special Operations, some other city gig kicking down doors, saving lives, etcetera. He was a hero cop in the making.
Shut up with your brain and answer him, dickhead!
She arranged her face into what she hoped was a half-decent smile. “Thanks for finding me. Eating all the weed in the property office to survive would have sucked.”
Max chuckled. “You still living around here?”
Julia almost gasped. Was he actually asking her a personal question? “My sister and I have a place on Church Street.”
“Not that murder place?”
She winced. “Somebody was killed there once, yes.”
“Rough.”
Julia shrugged. “It’s not too bad. Although our bathroom is slowly sinking into the ground like the Titanic.”
“At least you’re aware.”
“We are.” Julia picked up her satchel and adjusted the strap over her shoulder. “Thanks again for finding me. It was looking pretty grim before you showed up.”
He smiled, an easy, panty-combusting smile. “No problem. Hey, are you still into games?”
Julia tucked her hair behind her ears, torn between wanting to escape and exploiting what was surely a once in a lifetime chance to linger in a dark room with the married guy she had a boner for. Fuck it. “Yeah, I’m actually almost finished designing—”
Max strode forward, heavy boots pounding on the concrete. “Jesus, I swear I’m going to report Henrietta.”
She stood stock-still, unsure if she was relieved or insulted he’d cut her off. “What’s up?”
“The shotgun leaning against the overnight cage is loaded. First you were in here unsupervised and now this? That woman’s going to get someone killed.”
Julia was slightly offended. “Just because I locked myself in here you think I go around kicking live firearms?”
Max huffed out a laugh. “Of course n—”
There was a loud creak and they both turned. The property office door, freed from Max’s body was closing. It was closing slow like quicksand, like hot tar, but it was closing, her worst nightmare swaying into reality.
Max lunged with an agility she couldn’t have replicated on her most athletic day, his face screwing up in concentration, his muscular arms extended. Time spun on a dime and for a moment, she was sure he’d make it. Then the door hit the frame, bobbed once and then the lock returned home with a loud, hatefully satisfying, click.
Julia swore. Max swore. They both reached for the handle, their fingers colliding as Julia forgot her fear of touching him in the fear that they were trapped. The handle didn’t budge.
“The keys,” Max said, frantically checking his pockets. “I’ve got the keys, I’m sure I do.”
Julia didn’t say anything. She’d seen the keys embedded in the door as it closed. They would be there still, dangling impotently from the keyhole, of no use to either of them.
Max pounded a fist against the door, the sound like a grenade going off. “It’s locked. We’re locked in.”
Julia covered her face. Unless she could fashion a makeshift key out of a broken monitor, she was officially spending the weekend in her least favourite place, in her least favourite town with Max fucking Connor. She pressed her back against the cool concrete wall and slid all the way down.
Chapter 2
Man up. Push through it. Shit happens. They were the epithets of Max’s life. Blunt statements from uncles and coaches and mates. They all boiled down to the same thing; when life gets hard, you get on with it and you get on with it quietly.
Sometimes the advice was helpful; other times it was useless. Take this scenario. Julia Bennett was slumped against a wall, he was late for the most important evening he’d had in months, both of them were trapped in a room with concrete walls, no windows and a reinforced steel door. I mean sure, shit happened, but did this shit have to happen? Over by the wall, Julia moaned quietly. She was white as a sheet, each of her freckles standing out like radio towers and there were goosebumps all over her bare arms. He should comfort her. He shouldn’t close his eyes and pretend none of this was happening, right?
Feeling woefully out of his depth, Max approached her the way one approached an unmarked package. “Hey, are you okay?”
Julia nodded, her lips pressed together like she was holding in a scream. Max mentally counted down from ten, breathing deep and urging his body to relax. Their best bet would be to contact someone. Julia’s phone was out of the question. He checked his own. No reception. Bonnie was always lecturing him about getting a new provider but he told her he never used his personal phone at work. Famous last words.
He kneeled at Julia’s feet. “Hey, can you look at me?”
She lifted her head and suddenly Max had no idea why he’d asked. Her irises were bright green, the brown ringing them so pale it was almost gold. Bambi eyes, d
rown-in-me eyes, eyes to kill for. They stared at each other a moment, a strange heat rising inside him, and then he coughed, forcibly breaking the connection.
“Anyone know you’re here?” he asked, the words coming out rougher than he intended.
“My sister, but she’s gone to a party. She might be there all weekend.”
Her lower lip trembled, the plushness of it drawing his gaze as effectively as cleavage. He’d give anything to have Julia look as bored as she usually did. Her obvious vulnerability was stirring something in him. Something macho and unhelpful.
“I’m sorry,” he said, unsure what he was apologizing for. “What about your phone? Any chance it’s still working?”
“It’s busted and even if I could fix it, the battery’s dead.”
Max stood, needing to put some distance between himself and her mouth. “This doesn’t look good.”
“What about your phone?”
“I don’t get reception in this area.”
“What model do you have? Maybe I can take it out and put it in mine?”
Max held out his iPhone and Julia snorted. “No chance. We’re totally screwed. Wait! What about our cars? A cop might see them, in the parking lot?”
He shook his head. “That’s a long bow to draw.”
Most cops didn’t live where they worked, himself included. It was too likely disgruntled crooks would egg your house or poison your dog. It also meant very little chance a colleague would cruise past and spot his Ford Ranger or Julia’s beat-up Commodore still waiting side by side for their owners to return. Max racked his brain for alternatives, but it kept showing him hazel eyes and full pink lips.
Unhelpful shit.
“I never should have agreed to work back.” Julia stood, tugging at the waistband of the black jeans she wore as often as he wore his navy uniform pants. They were so tight and sleek the material looked like leather.
“This is what I get for being such a pushover,” she said, turning on the spot. “This is all my fault.”
Max was finding it increasingly hard to look away from her ass. He closed his eyes. “Uhh, it’s done now. No point wondering ‘what if.’ Do you have any water?”
“Half a liter in my bag.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Food?”
“A couple of mints but that’s it.”
A slither of panic slipped down his spine. They had enough water to survive a forty-eight-hour stretch, but it wasn’t going to be pretty. Come Monday, he’d be the laughing stock of the station. Cop locks himself in evidence room? That was almost as bad as getting stuck in your own handcuffs. No one was going to let him live this shit down. Bonnie would be furious he’d missed their appointment and God knew what this would do for his career…Actually, he already knew what it was going to do for his career—nothing.
He turned to Julia. “You know computers. Can’t you…do something?”
She stared at him like he was crazy. “Yeah, okay. I’ll lump together a teleportation device from a tin can and some shitty plastic jewelry, will I?”
She was funny. He’d forgotten that. She’d made him laugh the night they met, all those fast little jabs like a boxer. That soft, pretty mouth…Down, boy. Max cleared his throat again. “Good point. Sorry for assuming.”
Her expression softened. “I was wondering if I could do anything as well, but there’s nowhere to connect to the local server, no Wi-Fi or phone reception. Unless you’ve got a working radio, we’re screwed.”
Max’s stomach descended about a mile. “In that case, I think we might be screwed.”
“Oh God.” Julia slumped back against the wall and slid down, hands clamped over her face. “This can not be happening.”
Max winced. If they were going to be locked in for a weekend, he couldn’t afford for her to succumb to panic, especially not this early in the game. Things were only going to get worse.
He squatted down in front of her. “Hey, can you tell me how you’re feeling?”
She peered out at him from between her fingers. “Great. I feel great. Everything’s going really well.”
“Julia, look at me.”
She didn’t reply. He could smell her, a soft vanilla scent mixed with coconut shampoo. “Come on. I can’t have you freaking out on me.”
He reached forward and brushed her wrist. She jerked away like he was on fire.
Max groaned, feeling like a predatory idiot. “Sorry, I’m not trying to declare myself lord of the property office or anything, but you need to talk to me.”
Her cheeks flushed red. She peeled her hands away, and somehow it felt like seduction, the slow exposure of pale skin and flushed lips. “Look, I’m fine. Nothing to see here, Max.”
His first instinct was to tell her never to say his name ever again. His second was to cup her lightly freckled cheeks and press his lips to hers. Kiss those letters off her mouth. Both were irrational. Neither was conducive to escaping the property office.
“How—how’s your breathing?”
“Fine.” She pressed a hand to her sternum. “My heart’s racing though. I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.”
His own was far from steady but Max didn’t think that had anything to do with their situation. He stood. “Let me know if—when—everything returns to normal.”
“I will.” She swept her hair from her eyes and Max imagined it brushing across his bare chest, spread out on his pillow…If they were trapped, where would they sleep? Together? If Julia stayed all shaky and freaked out, would she want him to touch her? Hold her? He clenched his fists, his wedding ring biting into his skin. His urge to comfort Julia was inconvenient and, quite frankly, creepy. All this misplaced attraction was clouding his head, making him sluggish. He needed to focus on getting a hundred miles away from Julia. He could shoot the door. Could you be sacked for deploying your weapon in order to escape a locked room?
“We could set the door on fire?” Julia was obviously sharing his desperation.
Max shook his head. “Destroying the station’s evidence would get us fired and most likely killed in a backdraft.”
Julia groaned. “At least tell me there’s enough air in here. Say you won’t have to mercy-strangle me?”
“Why? Are you claustrophobic?”
“No. I used to live in a cardboard box.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Julia’s cheeks turned bright red. “I mean when I was a kid. My sister and I used to take turns sleeping in a cardboard box; pretend it was a pirate ship, that kind of thing. I’ve never been homeless.”
Max wanted to laugh but couldn’t quite get past the idea that he was trapped in the Brenthill property office with Julia Bennett. “I’m sure there’s enough air getting in from the vents, and even if there wasn’t, I wouldn’t strangle you. Too much paperwork.”
She almost smiled. “Can you believe this is happening?”
“No, but we can get through this. We need to stay calm and focused.”
Julia gave him a look that said ‘Thanks, Dad’ and reached for her satchel, drawing out a gray flannel shirt. It had been a muggy summer’s day but thanks to the thick concrete walls, the property office was unnaturally cool. Max was grateful it wasn’t winter. It would be ice-cold and he’d freeze to death before suggesting he and Julia huddle together for warmth. She wasn’t exactly dressed for comfort in her tight jeans and white lace singlet. He snatched a look at her tattoo before she pulled the flannel on; computer code and cherry blossoms tied together with a USB cord. There was a phrase as well; Max had Googled it once. She conquers who conquers herself.
He had a tattoo as well. Bonnie had paid for it on their trip to Thailand. She was oddly turned on by the tattooing process, like the ink was turning him into some bad boy or maybe just someone other than the guy she married. Either way, Max liked his tattoo, but it wasn’t personal the way Julia’s was. It didn’t say ‘I’m smart and delicate and complicated’ the way all those numbers surrounded by pale pink petals did.<
br />
“Hey, man, are you okay?”
Max jolted out of his reverie to find Julia staring at him, eyes narrowed. “You look like you want to hit me with a phone book.”
He felt a hot rush of guilt. She would probably find police brutality preferable to the way he’d been analyzing her body. “I’m not pissed, I promise. It’s the eyebrows.”
She grinned, her youth and beauty shining out at him, and Max hated himself a little more for wanting her.
“Now we’re officially screwed, what should we do?”
Max opened his mouth to suggest something stupid, like a cup of tea, when a loud bang echoed above their heads, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps.
Julia leapt to her feet. “Oh my God. Someone’s upstairs.” She rounded on him. “When they leave they’ll walk past the property office. They’ll see the keys in the door!”
Max’s mouth went dry. If they got out now, he could still make his appointment with Bonnie, and some distance and many beers from now, this inappropriate attraction would feel like a bad dream. “We need to get their attention.”
The footsteps grew louder, the sound echoing through a right-hand vent on the wall. Julia snatched a chair from the nearby table and stood on it.
“Hello?” she shouted into the vent. “Hello, can you hear me?”
There was no response. Julia brought her fingers to her lips and gave an ear-splitting whistle.
Max put his hands over his ears. “Jesus.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t stress, it was a good idea.”
They stood stock-still, waiting for footsteps to come hammering down the stairs to investigate the noise. After several tense seconds, the knot in Max’s stomach tightened. “It’s no good. The sound must be traveling down the vent. I can hear people talking.”
He pressed his ear against the grate, acutely aware of how close his face was to Julia’s and trying not to be.
“Got much on for tonight?”
Max recognised the broad, flat voice as Sergeant Daly.
So Wild Page 36