Corps Security: The Series

by Harper Sloan

  When the doors finally close, I rub my hands over Zac’s baby bump and will myself to calm down. I can’t be getting this upset. I’m sure whoever did this is long gone. I bet they even got the wrong car. It was probably meant to be Wendy Westlake’s car and they got mine instead. Our cars are almost identical. She has the door across from our apartment and I swear it’s open later than Taco Bell. Everyone knows they stay open late.

  My body is still shaking and I can’t seem to calm down. When the car dings on my floor, I make my way to our door with wooden legs. I just need to get inside and call Asher. He’ll know what to do.

  My hands are shaking so badly that I drop my keys twice. Bending over is a blast when you’ve got a large beach ball in your front. I feel my jeans get tight across my ass, and I groan when I hear my phone start making noises like the touchscreen has been activated. I swear I butt-dial more people that way.

  I throw the door open and rush in, pressing myself against the door and letting out the breath I was holding. Now that I’m safe in my apartment, I allow my body to really start feeling the fear of seeing my car smashed and beaten. Vandalized with so much brutal force.

  I go to grab my cell from my pocket but stop dead when I see her.

  A scream escapes my lips and I feel my heart drop. Ice-cold terror is picking up speed inside my body, making me feel faint and powerless.

  She’s standing in the middle of my living room with a hammer swinging in one hand, the other holding one of Zac’s stuffed animals.

  I shift my weight, wondering if I could reach the doorknob and get out before she could reach me. My plans are ruined when she sees my intent and growls, “Don’t fucking move, whore.”

  I don’t know who this woman is, but if she thinks she’s going to do something to harm my life, my baby, then she’s got another thing coming. I straighten my shoulders and vow silently to Zac that Mommy will protect him.

  She takes a menacing step towards me, and I pray for a miracle.

  CHAPTER 34

  Chelcie

  “What do you want?” I’m proud of myself for keeping my voice steady, for not letting her see the fear that is taking over my system.

  “You really are a stupid whore, aren’t you?” Her nasally voice sounds so flat, almost dead, and when it fills my ears, it just adds to the terror.

  “If it’s money you want—here. Take my purse,” I plead. “We don’t have any jewelry or valuables here.”

  Her eyes flash to my left hand and I could curse my beautiful diamond.

  “Oh, I beg to differ, whore. You have everything of value to me. Let me tell you a story, hmm?” She walks closer to me and I stand my ground, refusing to give her the benefit of my cowering. “Get your fat ass in there and sit the fuck down,” she hisses, grabbing my hair and bringing the wooden end of the hammer up to slam against my cheekbone. The longer end clips the top of my eye and it causes stars to immediately dance in front of me.

  Okay, that hurt.

  Tears are burning my eyes, and I can feel something warm running down my cheek. When I don’t move quickly enough, she curls her fist tighter and forces me to the ground in the middle of the living room. I twist and steady myself so I don’t fall on my stomach. I can feel Zac kicking and rolling, and I close my eyes in relief that he’s okay. She grabs some duct tape out of her bag and walks behind me to bind my wrists painfully together. She throws the tape off to the side and I hear it crash into something, sending it shattering against the hardwood. I don’t dare take my eyes off of her though. I need to keep my wits about me if I’m going to get us out of this alive.

  “Time for your goodnight story, little whore. There once was a beautiful woman. She had the most expensive clothes, all the money she could ever want, and a body every woman around would die for . . . And she had the most handsome prince in all the land. That prince was perfect, you see, and he wanted to give the princess everything she ever wanted. What she wanted was to rule her kingdom. Now I’ll skip all of the boring parts, but her prince has been lost. You see, he wasn’t lost to the princess. She always knew where to find her prince. He needed some time to remember how much he craves his princess. So she has waited patiently.”

  She takes a break from her twisted tale. She just stares at me with this dazed and confused look on her face. I swear she can’t even focus. Her eyes keep getting larger and then squinting.

  “I’ve been watching. I’m always watching,” she mumbles.

  I watch in shocked horror as she spins the hammer even faster. Her confusion to the reality around her is making her one deadly, hammer-wielding lunatic.

  “Who are you?” I implore.

  My head snaps back when she cracks me again with the wooden handle. I lock my body and only sway slightly. Goddamn, that one hurt worse.

  “Who am I?” she screeches, the sound making my eardrums protest. “Who am I? I am Sarah Jane Clarkston, and I’m here to finally take my prince back. And to remove MY baby from your whore body before you taint her!”

  I watch in horror as she starts jamming the blunt end of the hammer into one of her eyes, mumbling over and over, “I’ve been watching. I’m always watching.” She digs at her hair, pulling out chunks at a time and throwing them on the floor. My mouth drops when she takes her blunt nails and claws them down her face before she pushes her arm out wide—then slams her fist into her face.

  What in the fucking hell?

  While she’s busy coming completely fucking unhinged, I try my hardest to get the tape off. I realize quickly enough that there’s no use. She has it so tight that I’m already starting to lose feeling in my fingers.

  She stops her abuse to her face and starts crawling around on the floor. She’s still mumbling under her breath. “I’ve been watching. I’m always watching.”

  I take advantage of her distraction and start looking around for something to use, something that can free my hands.

  I spot one of my decorative vases that must have been what took the hit when crazy pants over there tossed the tape. I look around, seeing if any of the broken pieces made it my way.

  There! About two feet from my leg is a piece that will be perfect. Now I just need to get to it. Checking to see how my new friend is, I notice that she’s now curled up next to my couch, rocking and slamming her fist against her head. Her other hand still holds the hammer tight, banging it over and over against the floor.

  I move slowly, using my legs to inch closer and closer, only moving small inches at a time. I get where I can reach it as I sit on my ass, so I carefully and quietly as possible bring one of my legs out from under me, shifting on my ass to get my other leg out. My whole body is burning from the use of muscles I haven’t used in months.

  When I get settled on my ass, I look over to make sure, once again, that she isn’t paying me any attention. My fingers reach out blindly, pushing the piece of glass a few times as I fumble around. I finally get my fingers around the sharp shard and begin the process of moving back onto my knees. I don’t want her to know that I’ve moved, but more importantly, I don’t want her to have any more of a height advantage if she comes to stand over me again. At least up on my knees, I have something going for me.

  Once back on my knees, I make the painful shift back over to my original position. The whole time, I busy myself with moving the glass back and forth against my bindings. I want to scream in pain each time the sharp ends jam into my skin. Either my wrists or my fingers—hell, maybe both—are cut so badly that I’m struggling to hold on to the glass in my hands.

  I can feel the tape give slightly at the same time that her head snaps up and she looks me in the eyes. “It’s all your fault, you fucking whore! You tempted him. Made him touch your body. IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”

  I keep sawing at the tape that binds my wrists and pray that I can get it loose before it’s too late. Her eyes are starting to look wild, and I know there isn’t much time. She heaves her large bag up and starts digging around. She brings up a few baggies of
little white pills until she seems satisfied with the one she has. I can’t see how many pills the bag holds, looks like maybe three or four. She dumps them all in her hand and throws them into her mouth. After bringing a bottle of water out of her bag, she dumps it over her mouth, most of it falling around her mouth and running down her neck. By the time she appears to have had enough, she is soaking wet.

  “I’ve been watching! I’m always watching!” she screams and starts to charge towards me.

  The hammer in her hand comes up over her head. I watch with stark terror as the hammer gets higher and higher with each step she takes towards me.

  “Drop it,” I hear from just over my shoulder. The voice strong. Commanding. And in total control. “Drop the fucking hammer now or, so help me God, I will shoot you,” the voice promises.

  I make another sharp dig against the tape, opening my mouth wide in a silent scream. The last thing I want to do right now is remind this chick that I’m still in the room. I rip off the remaining tape, fumbling a few times because my hands are soaked with my blood.

  “Drop it,” the voice reminds.

  I keep my eyes focused on Sarah Jane and her hammer. I back up against the far wall and hold my arms over my stomach, praying that I’ll feel Zac start to move soon.

  Sarah Jane goes to take another step and the sudden boom of a gunshot ringing out in the confined space has me screaming out. I curl into myself as much as my belly will allow.

  “Don’t fucking move! This time I won’t be as nice and I’ll aim for something more important than your shoulder.”

  “I’ve been watching. I’m always watching! You don’t know what this whore took from me!”

  “And I don’t fucking care.” I shiver at the coldness that’s come over the voice to my side. “One more time—drop the hammer.”

  “I’m going to bash you to pieces when I finish with the whore,” Sarah Jane promises.

  I hear her snarl and what sounds like her feet shuffling forward. I close my eyes tight and brace for whatever happens next, making sure that my arms are still covering as much of my stomach as possible.

  I scream when I hear another shot and start to cry uncontrollably. I scream and cry—beg and plead. It isn’t until minutes later, when I feel a small, warm hand lightly touch my shoulder, that I dare to look up.

  When I see Emmy’s honey-colored eyes looking back into mine, I cry louder. She pulls me into her arms and lets me use her to be my strength since mine is gone.

  I don’t once let go of the hold I have on Zac . . . the whole time, praying that he will just move.

  CHAPTER 35

  Asher

  Maddox jumps the curb when we pull up to the apartment, his fender kissing the brick wall. I don’t even take a second to make sure he’s coming up with me. It’s been too long. Chelcie’s phone cut off two minutes ago, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about everything that could be happening to her. The sound of her scream is still echoing in my head, and the ball of dread starts to snowball out of control. When the elevator opens on our floor, my heart feels like it’s stopped beating, because the second my feet hit the carpet outside the elevator, I hear the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired.

  “Fucking hell,” Maddox hisses.

  He’s been keeping pace with me this whole time, the adrenaline clearly helping his movements. I run down the hall as quickly as I can, cursing that our door is the very last one on the hall—the one that will take me the longest to reach. Skidding to a stop at the open doorway, I see Sarah Jane. She’s bound by her wrists and ankles with duct tape and, by the looks of it, either passed out or in shock. I can also see that she is the one bleeding from what appears to be two gunshot wounds—one to her left shoulder and the other to her right kneecap.

  I pull my own gun from my shoulder harness, looking over and seeing Maddox doing the same. He nods his head towards the open doorway and we make our way into the room, looking for any source of danger that might still be present.

  I stop dead in my tracks when we make it around the wall that was blocking the rest of the room from my view. Chelcie is clinging to a blonde woman, sobbing so hard that her whole body is shaking with the force of her crying. I look around the room, making sure there isn’t another threat before kneeling down next to them. The second my movements are registered with the blonde woman holding an inconsolable Chelcie, her head whips up, and all of a sudden, I have a gun pointed against my forehead. Her eyes flash with recognition when she realizes who it is and she immediately drops the gun.

  “What the fuck, Emmy?” Maddox booms through the room.

  Chelcie is shifted to my arms and Emmy peels her body off the floor. For the first time, I notice that she has blood all over her.

  “Are you hurt?” I ask, my voice sounding miles away.

  “It isn’t mine. She wouldn’t let me move her to check her wrists, but that’s where it’s coming from. She was cutting the tape off her wrists when I came in.”

  “Chelcie, Sunshine . . . look at me. I’m here. I’m here and it’s over. Let me look at you.”

  Her crying intensifies, and I look up at Emmy, helpless as to how to help her. She all but throws her piece at Maddox—who is still looking at her with so much anger that I’m shocked she isn’t catching on fire. Then she kneels back on the floor next to Chelcie and slowly forces her hands off of her belly.

  “Let me look at you, okay? Maddox is making the call right now and we’ll get you right over to the hospital to check on the baby. Is that what you’re worried about?” her soothing voice whispers softly to Chelcie.

  I feel her nod her head yes against my chest and my heart drops. What if something is wrong with Zac? I didn’t even think that he could be harmed. Her belly doesn’t look injured.

  “Chelcie, is it Zac? Sunshine . . . is it our boy?”

  She nods her head, and I feel like I’m dying inside.

  “Someone call fucking nine one one! Goddammit,” I roar.

  “Maddox is calling them right now, Asher. Let me get closer so I can check her arms. I need to make sure the bleeding has stopped.

  Our boy. Our perfect little baby boy. God wouldn’t be so cruel. He wouldn’t take Zac from us. He wouldn’t allow another profound loss to rock our lives.

  “He moved,” she garbles against my chest.

  “What was that, Sunshine? What moved?”

  She takes a deep breath, her whole body rocking with the movement. “Zac . . . He finally moved.” A sob escapes her mouth, and the sound of it is so intense that I have to close my eyes at the depth of her emotions. “He finally moved when you talked. He wouldn’t move. Not until he heard you.” She starts shaking again, her crying getting even stronger.

  I scan the room with wild eyes, looking for something—anything—that can help me take her pain away. When I come up blank, I turn my attention back to her. Rocking her slowly in my arms and pressing my forehead against hers.

  Emmy continues to check her wrists, holding a few towels that Maddox handed her against the deep wounds.

  When the room fills with cops and paramedics, I finally let some of the tension leave my body. Until I know that Chelcie and Zac are okay, I don’t think I’ll be able to release it all. Knowing that this could have ended differently is the only thing that is keeping me going right now.

  They’re safe.

  And I’ll never let her out of my sight now.

  * * *

  Five hours later, we’re sitting in her hospital room. She won’t let me leave her side—not that I have any plans to—so I lie with a good half of my body hanging off the edge of her narrow hospital bed. Our hands are laced together over her stomach, and the sounds of our son’s heartbeats are echoing around the room. A constant reminder for us that he is okay. Safe within his mother’s womb.

  She ended up needing numerous stitches along her arms and wrists from the damage the glass had done. They closed the cut on her eyebrow with glue since it wasn’t as deep. They want to keep h
er overnight for observation, which I readily agreed to. Just being here is making things a little easier for us. Hearing the sounds of our son, alive and thriving, reaffirms that Chelcie kept him safe from danger.

  When I listened to her soft whispers telling the detectives what had happened, I had a hard time keeping it together. I want to find Sarah Jane and physically hurt her. Watch her suffer like she made Chelcie. But when Chelcie grabs my hand, I quickly push the thoughts back. She wouldn’t want me to be thinking that way. Sarah Jane needs help. Judging by her hysterical screaming when they finally were able to get her out of her comatose state, I would guess she’s going to go straight to a mental hospital.

  “I’m so proud of you, Sunshine.”

  She lifts her head, kissing my forehead before I can move back to look into her eyes.

  “I was scared, baby, but I would have fought even longer. I will never let anything or anyone come between us.”

  I lean in and press my lips softly to hers. She hums lightly in the back of her throat like she always does when I kiss her like this.

  I pull back and look at her in question. “How are you dealing with all of this? Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really. I saw her, Ash. She wasn’t right in the head, so if you’re going to start blaming yourself, thinking because she was some chick in your past that you’re responsible, then you can stop now.” I look at her, slightly embarrassed that she has such a good read on me. “I’m not sure that there will ever be enough help to make whatever is broken in her mind. She was talking nonsense. It’s over and I would really prefer to put it behind us. One thing I know for sure is I do not want to go back to that apartment. I can’t, Asher. Even though I know there isn’t danger anymore, I don’t think I will ever feel safe there again.”

  “I understand. We’ll get you out of here and stay at Coop’s old house until we decide what we want to do. We don’t need to make a decision now or even a month from now. All that matters is that you and Zac are going to be fine. I love you,” I softy remind her, shifting slightly so I can bring her closer. It’s hard to get her as close as I want to with the wires and probes and crap all over her stomach.