Deserve

by C. C. Snow

  “Shit,” I mutter under my breath, wishing I had asked my friends to walk me back to the dorm after all. I fiddle nervously with the nozzle of the pepper spray. “Too late now, Batgirl. You’re on your own.”

  I lengthen my strides, my pulse fluttering as I near a dimly lit area. Tilting my head up, I notice that the street lamp is out. Behind me I hear a faint rustle and I spin around, eyes darting into the shadows. Distantly, I hear a couple laugh and I exhale in relief. Rotating my shoulder blades, I try to release some of the tension.

  “I’m going to go to treat myself to a spa day after this,” I promise myself quietly.

  I face forward, angry at myself for being such a jittery mess. Throwing my shoulders back, I start to walk more confidently.

  A black streak jumps out two feet ahead of me and I shriek, almost leaping out of my skin. I hold the pepper spray at arm’s length, ready to depress the trigger. My hand is shaking. Yellow eyes stare at me disdainfully and with a swish of his tail, the lithe animal ambles nimbly across the street.

  “Jesus. It’s just a cat, Maggie,” I reassure myself and laugh nervously. I pat my palm against my heart, trying to calm its mad beat. “Don’t give yourself a heart att—”

  A hand slaps over my mouth and the bottom of my nose, cutting off my air, and my eyes widen with terror. A steely arm bands around my middle and starts to drag me to the side. My pepper spray drops to the sidewalk with a clack. Panic and horror rush through me, stealing my ability to think, eliminating my ability to move. Tears seep out of my eyes.

  Not again.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Sean

  My phone vibrates against my hip. With one arm hanging onto Bo, I put the phone to my ear.

  “Rowan,” I shout over the sound of the engine.

  “Detective Rowan?”

  “Yes?” I bark impatiently.

  “This is Todd Jorgsen. I just called a friend who was supposed to come with Maggie to the club, but she told me Maggie changed her mind and is walking back to her dorm. They offered to walk with her, but Maggie refused.”

  I hang up with another word, my heart lurching in dread. I tap Bo on the shoulder and yell at the top of my lungs, “Turn back. We need to go to her dorm.”

  Bo throttles the engine and makes a sharp left, almost kissing the fender of a sedan. As we weave through traffic, I catalog all the things I’m going to do to her for all the shit she’s pulled tonight. First and foremost, I’m going to go down on my knees to thank God that she’s okay. Then I’m dragging her home and tying her to the bed. Once I have titanium bars and bulletproof glass on the windows and doors, I’ll allow her to walk around. And maybe over time, I’ll even permit her to leave the apartment, but not before I embed a GPS chip in the back of her skull. I nod in grim satisfaction at my plan of action.

  Just let me find her before it’s too late.

  The motorcycle comes to a screeching halt in front of the dorm and I sprint toward the entrance, hurtling through the door. Ignoring the cry of alarm from the kid at the front desk, I run up the stairs until I reach Maggie’s room. I bang on the door with my fists and yell her name. No answer.

  “Shit!” I barrel down the stairs until I reach the front desk. “Have you seen Maggie Jackson come in tonight?”

  Eyes wide with alarm, the guy shakes his head violently. “I can’t share that information with you, sir. And you violated our residence rule by not signing in.”

  Fuck! Just my luck to encounter a Dudley Do-Right. My first instinct is to pull out my gun and demand he answer, but causing mass hysteria won’t get me the information I need any faster. I take out my wallet and flash my badge. “Talk,” I order. Desperation escalates with every passing second.

  Eyes glued on my badge, the kid stutters, “Nnoo…no…I…I’ve been on duty for an hour and have…haven’t seen her.”

  “Fuck!” I pivot and charge out of the building. “She’s not here,” I shout at Bo as I wipe at the sweat pouring down my face. Adrenaline has been coursing through my body for what feels like hours and things have taken on a surreal quality. A gruesome image swims on the edges of my mind.

  Maggie, limp like a rag doll, bleeding from savage slashes all over her slim body, her voice ragged from screams of terror. The spark of life fading from her beautiful eyes.

  Snap out of it, Rowan! NOW!

  I grit my teeth, forcing my mind to veer away from the nightmarish scenario, forcing my faculties to work.

  “We need to circle the area. Go that way,” I say, vaulting onto the back of Bo’s bike and pointing in the direction of the route she would most likely have taken from the university.

  Bo goes slowly and I suppress the urge to tell him to increase the speed. I refuse to let panic cloud my reason and judgment. If he moves too fast, I won’t be able to spot Maggie.

  I swivel my head, probing the darker areas of the streets, cursing the low hum of the engine that prevents me from hearing any subtler sounds.

  Where are you, angel?

  If I had blinked, I would have missed the thrashing shadows. I couldn’t have known that it was her, but I did. I knew it in my bones.

  Jesus, please don’t let me be too late.

  Stomach twisting in fear, I slap Bo twice on his shoulder. Before the bike comes to a complete stop, I throw myself off, my hand reaching for my Glock, and run full tilt toward the writhing figures.

  “Police. Halt!” I drag the male figure, strong and sinewy, still kicking and punching, upright and place my gun at his temple. I itch to use a chokehold to crush his windpipe.

  Bo swings his bike around and shines his headlight onto the scene.

  “Move and I’ll gladly put a bullet in your head,” I snarl viciously and he immediately stills.

  “Don’t hurt him!”

  The voice draws my attention to the ground.

  “What the hell?” Bo’s voice comes from behind me, but I can’t look away from the unbelievable, frozen tableau. My eyes widen in incomprehension.

  Maggie, eyes flashing with green fire, tear-streaked face ghostly white, and hair a corona of flames under the harsh glare of the light, has one knee on the back of a still male figure and her hand at the base of his skull, pressing his face to the hard ground. Her body is held tightly, every tensile muscle coiled for battle. In contrast, the body on the ground is completely lax. There’s no doubt in my mind that he has been knocked unconscious.

  As I take in her magnificence, awe and wonder fill me.

  When I traveled through Europe, I came across a painting in a church in Rome of the Archangel Michael, wings spread, sword unsheathed, poised to vanquish his foe. I stayed in that apse for an hour, admiring the beauty of the work, knowing I would never forget its glory.

  Seeing Maggie at this moment is like seeing the painting come to life. She is the warrior angel. An avenging angel in the truest sense of the word.

  This image will be forever embedded into my soul, reminding me that there is goodness and light in the world.

  “Angel, are you okay?” I ask the most urgent question, eyes roving hungrily over her, afraid this is a hallucination.

  She blinks owlishly into the bright light. “Sean?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” I say gently. I want nothing more than to take her into my arms, but I need to neutralize every threat first. “Are you okay?” I demand, needing a verbal confirmation.

  “Yes, I think so,” she replies, her voice shaky.

  For the first time in hours, the tension gripping my every muscle unravels and a wave of dizziness hits me. Thank God.

  The man in my arm tries to twist away. “Let me go!” he says angrily.

  Turning my attention to my captive, I shake him roughly and ask, “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Sean, he saved me!” Maggie says urgently, green eyes pleading. “That’s Josh Ludlow. When this guy grabbed me from behind, Josh jumped on him. Don’t hurt him.”

  I glance at him suspiciously, recalling the way he stared at Maggie
months ago. I hand him over to Bo and reholster my gun at my back.

  “Keep him secure until I can figure this shit out,” I say and kneel next to Maggie. I press my hand on the back of the perp’s head before I examine her visually for any injuries. If the fucker decides to wake up, I’ll gladly take the opportunity to crush his skull.

  She looks dazed and disheveled, but appears unharmed.

  “You sure you’re okay, angel?”

  She nods, her expression still disbelieving.

  “Thank God.” I spear my fingers into her hair and my whole body sighs in relief at the feel of her warmth. Unable to resist, I give her a hard, brief kiss and when I break away, her eyes look glazed. I pinch her chin to get her attention. “Angel, you can let go. I’ve got him.” Gently, I pry her fingers away from the perp’s neck. “Why don’t you call 911 while I take care of this guy?”

  “My battery died,” she says sheepishly.

  I close my eyes and imagine buying a private island in the middle of the Pacific and plunking her on it. Nobody would be allowed to land unless they get clearance from me. Yes, much better than the GPS idea, I decide. Speaking through clenched teeth, I say, “Get my phone out of my left coat pocket.”

  She fishes my phone out and scrambles away. I wrestle with my instinct to drag her back to my side, but there’s too much shit to take care of. Soon you’ll have her to yourself, I promise myself.

  I look down at the man lying on his front. I have a suspicion who the fucker is, but my mind is still a few steps behind in processing the situation. I flip him over and sit back on my heels.

  The lower half of his face is covered with blood, courtesy of the injury to his most likely broken nose. There aren’t any bruises yet, but based on the ferocity of Ludlow’s kicks, I suspect his face will swell within hours. In his left hand is a karambit, curved and deadly. My heart stops at the drops of blood on the tip and I jerk my gaze to look at Maggie in alarm. She’s shivering in the cold, hugging herself, but doesn’t seem to be in pain.

  “Bo, is Ludlow injured?” I ask without looking away from Maggie.

  A few seconds. “Fuck! Yes, there’s a gash in his left thigh.”

  On cue, Ludlow moans in agony. I suspect he’s been riding on adrenaline and is feeling the injury for the first time.

  I hear rustling behind me and assume Bo is administering first aid.

  As long as it’s not her blood, I don’t give a fuck.

  Using my sleeve to keep my prints from contaminating the evidence, I take the blade out of Bleed’s grip and throw it a few feet away. I pat him down, but find no other weapons. I wish the bastard were awake to resist arrest. I’d be more than happy to put a bullet in his head and claim self-defense. I settle for slamming him roughly onto his front again, hoping I break something else, and cuffing his hands. Then I send a fist into his back, aiming for his kidney, and smile when I hear a low groan.

  Glancing over at Bo, I say wryly, “This is one of the most feared criminals to terrorize the five boroughs. He’s eluded every agency for years, but has been brought to justice by a woman half my size.”

  Bo smirks at me, his eyes filled with the same relief I suspect is in mine. “I’m glad you finally found someone who can protect you, Rowan.”

  “Ass,” I say with a tired smile. Now that I can see with my own eyes that she’s safe, I’m starting to feel the adrenaline crash.

  Once we hear the sirens, everything moves quickly.

  Bleed and Ludlow are loaded up on stretchers to be taken to the hospital, accompanied by a couple of cops to ensure they don’t cause any trouble on the ride.

  As soon as someone steps forward to take charge of the crime scene, I stand up, stalk over to Maggie, and yank her into my arms. Everything and everyone fades into the background. I keep repeating “thank God” over and over again.

  She doesn’t say a word, hides her face in my sternum, and starts to sob softly.

  Cradling her head, I hold her tightly, needing the physical proof that she’s okay. Her cinnamon scent wraps around me like a caress. She feels so fucking fragile and I could have lost her so damn easily. My own eyes moisten and I press my cheek against her silky hair. I can’t get close enough, my embrace almost bruising in its force, but she doesn’t appear to mind, burrowing her nose into my chest.

  I dip my head and whisper into her ear, “Angel, I’m sorry for everything. I love you. I love you so much. Please forgive me for being an ass.”

  She stills and tilts her face. Wariness gleams in her wet eyes and I grimace at the pain I’ve caused her.

  “What did you say?” she whispers.

  I nuzzle my nose against hers and murmur fiercely and passionately against her lips. “I love you. I love you more than anything in the world.”

  “You do?” Her eyes brighten and in the next instant, she scowls fiercely, a deep crease between her brows. “You told me you couldn’t give me what I wanted a few days ago. What changed between then and now?”

  I smile ruefully, knowing I deserve her skepticism. Threading my fingers through her soft curls, I say, “You being in danger cut through my own bullshit.”

  “Extreme circumstances amplify emotions. We got together after the first attack. How do I know you’re not—”

  I tip her chin and capture her lips, silencing the ridiculous garbage coming out of her mouth. A kiss is insufficient to express how I feel, but I try. I rein in my feral instincts and cup her precious face, taking her mouth gently. With every soft brush of my lips, I tell her how much I’ve missed her. With every small foray of my tongue, I let her know how much I desire her, crave her. With every stroke of my thumbs against her soft cheeks, I convey how much I adore her. How much I worship her.

  How much I love her.

  I ease back, meet her searching gaze, and say, “Forgive me for being blind. I love you, angel. More than life itself.”

  Love and astonishment bloom in her eyes and gradually spread over her face, down her body until she glows with incandescence from every pore. If she were beautiful to me before, now she is radiantly exquisite. I know I will never see another lovelier sight in my life.

  “I love you too,” she says, tears leaking from her eyes.

  My whole body floods with pleasure at her words. I kiss her deeply, tasting her sweetness through the saltiness of her tears.

  After long minutes, she pulls away, narrows her eyes and then sends her little fist into my stomach. The punch doesn’t have a lot of power behind it, but I grunt obligingly, knowing she has a point to make.

  “That’s for breaking my heart.” Another pummel, harder than the first. “And for waiting until it’s almost too late to come to me.”

  Aching with remorse, I raise her fist and kiss her knuckles. “I was an idiot. It’ll never happen again. I will never hurt you again,” I vow.

  “You’d better not or I’ll kick your ass!” She glowers adorably.

  My little warrior. I throw my head back and laugh with happiness and relief. She is letting me off far too easily, but I’m not going to complain. “I’m counting on it.” Then I lean down and take her lips again.

  With a sigh, she nestles into my arms and kisses me back.

  The ring of my phone interrupts us. I want to ignore it, but there are too many things that need to be taken care of before we can be alone.

  Refusing to let an inch of space between us, I bring my phone to my ear. “Rowan.”

  “ASSHOLE. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHERE’S MY SISTER?” He sounds on the verge of exploding.

  “Shit! Cael, she’s okay. She’s okay. We’re a couple of blocks east of her dorm.” As soon as I hang up with Cael, I get a call from Marc. I give my partner our location and brace myself for a long ass night.

  A vaguely familiar cop walks toward us. “Ma’am, I’m Officer Jeffrey Cox. Are you able to give a statement about what happened tonight?”

  Maggie gasps and turns to him. “Officer Cox?”

  He cocks his head as if trying to plac
e her.

  “Maggie Jackson. Hannah Michaels’s case,” I supply and watch recognition dawn.

  Gazing at Maggie with combination of horror and sympathy, he says, “I’m sorry this happened to you again, ma’am. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she says.

  “Officer, we need to wait for a few people, but we’ll be at the station as soon as we can to give a statement.”

  “I’ll meet you there.” With a tip of his hat, he walks away.

  “He must think I’m some sort of magnet for trouble,” Maggie says with a wry smile.

  Before I can concur, someone taps me on my shoulder and I turn around. I never see the fist coming, but I know I’m hit because my head jerks back from the impact and my jaw feels like it’s been shattered.

  “FUCK!” I shove Maggie behind me and start to lunge at the threat, checking myself just in time when I realize I’m facing her enraged brother. Chest heaving and face twisted with fury, Cael looks ready to tear me apart with his hands.

  “Cael!” Maggie darts from behind me and inserts herself between us. Before I can snatch at her, she already has her arms thrown around his waist. “Don’t hit him!”

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” Cael clasps her shoulders and sets her away from him, eyes frantically checking her for injuries.

  “I’m okay.” She smiles to reassure him.

  He drags her into another tight hug. “Thank God.”

  When he releases her, he pushes his face aggressively into my personal space. “Why didn’t you fucking leave my little sister alone? You can have any woman in this city. Why did you mess with her?”

  “Because I love her, you ass!” I shout in his face, my jaw protesting every word.

  “I’m not going to let my sister be with a man-who—”

  Maggie slaps her hand over his mouth in a lightning move. “Don’t say it, Cael!”

  “I love her and I don’t give a fuck what you say, you dumb—,” I yell, but a hand covers my mouth before I can lambaste him.

  “Shut up! Both of you. Stop treating me like I can’t make my own decisions. I’m a grown woman and I know what I want and need.” Maggie’s glare bounces between us, warning us to behave. Slowly she drops her arms. When she backs away from Cael and moves to my side, I snap my arm around her waist.