by K B Cinder
As I fingered through old mail on her dresser, my phone chimed. It was probably just another security update letting me know they turned up jackshit. But I answered anyway, hoping they had something I could run with. “Barrett,” I answered, holding it against my shoulder to keep both hands free for searching. Even the dud of a paw in a cast.
“He’s following me,” a voice whispered.
Kee’s voice.
She hushed Stanley in the background who was rumbling with his usual growls.
My heart dropped to the floor along with the mail I’d been holding. “Who? Where are you?”
“Rick.” She was still whispering, Stanley now silent for a change.
I’d kill him. He’d been forced to issue a retraction, but he couldn’t let it die. He had to keep fucking pushing.
“Where are you? I’m on my way.” My feet were carrying me to the front door before I processed the thought, ready to go to the end of the Earth for her.
“Queens.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Where in Queens?”
I didn’t have time to wait for a commercial flight. I’d have to call in something private to get there. Not that it was an issue with the security firm. They had aircraft at their disposal. But it would still be at least an hour and a half until I got to her.
“I’m in Room 104 at the Runway Inn.”
I locked her apartment and made a mad dash to my car, fear gripping me in a vice. “Tell me what’s going on. Is the door locked? Can you see him?”
“I have it locked, but he’s yelling at the man at the front desk. I can hear him. I’m close to the lobby.”
“What is he saying?” I asked, putting the phone on speaker once I was inside the car, texting orders to have something ready at the airport. I fired up the engine, motor roaring as I rocketed east on the narrow street.
“He’s asking for my room number,” she choked out, a sniffle at the end. “I’m so scared, Eth!”
“Call the police! Now!” I ordered, clenching the steering wheel so tightly I was surprised it didn’t bend. God help the prick if I got ahold of him. He wouldn’t be able to say her name when I was done with him.
“They’re already on the way,” she whimpered. “But I’m scared.”
I cut a corner close, tires screeching, no doubt gaining the attention of every cop in a five-block radius. “Is there a dresser in the room?”
“Yes.”
“Slide it in front of the door, and don’t open it until you’re certain the police are on the other side.”
“It’s already in front of the door with the end tables.”
Of course, it was. Kee wasn’t stupid.
“Good job. I’m proud of you, baby. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” I turned onto the highway, climbing to 110 mph in seconds. I dodged those who didn’t understand the concept of a passing lane as I headed to the airport.
“No.”
Rage boiled over. “He hurt you?” I roared. He was as good as a dead man if he had. He’d never work in journalism again. He might not work period by the time I was done with him.
“No, no, no!” she breathed. “He hasn’t found me yet. But I’m not okay.”
“Give me an hour and a half, Kee. I’m sorry, but that’s the fastest I can get there.” And when I finally saw her, I wouldn’t let go. I might just haul her out of there over my goddamn shoulder kicking and screaming.
“I’m sorry I left.” I could hear the tears in her voice. “None of this would have happened if I stayed.”
“This isn’t your fault.” I sped up, seeing 130 mph on the digital reader for the first time ever.
“I was so mad. I didn’t think of why you’d hide so much. I can’t imagine living like this 24/7. I don’t blame you for being secretive.”
I could see the blinking lights of planes taking off in the distance, the airport just over the water as I floored it down I-90. “You don’t keep secrets from those you love. You have every right to be mad. I lied, plain and simple.”
“You were protecting me.” She shushed Stanley again, a rumble in the background followed by a sudden inhale, Stanley erupting in barks. Not his typical yaps, but deep, ferocious snarls.
“Kee? Kee, what’s happening?” Thank God, the police were there. Stanley was probably losing his mind at their knocks. She was safe.
At least I thought that was the case until she screamed, “Rick, no!”
They were the last words I could make out before a crashing sound followed, Kee’s words descending into shrieks.
Keely
“Time to chat, princess!” Rick taunted from the other side of the door, trying to force his way through the sliding bolt and chain locks. As the door shook, the end tables I’d piled on the dresser came crashing down, the flimsy wood breaking on impact.
Stanley charged off the bed toward the splintered wood, but I scooped him up before he could get hurt, tucking the lashing ball of teeth in the bathroom for his own safety, not that he went quietly, furiously barking as the door shut.
‘The police are on their way!” I warned, searching the sparsely-furnished room for something to protect myself with, winding up with nothing but a small metal trash can.
“Let them come! I haven’t done anything wrong!” he snarled, the thud against the door that followed resulting in a cracking sound, the wood surrounding the locks giving way.
“You’re breaking into my room!” I screeched, launching forward to push against the now-rocking dresser, the door shifting against his weight.
“Can’t we talk like old times, dear?” Another slam of his shoulder almost knocked me on my ass, the dresser lurching toward me. “I’d love to catch up on our buddy, Ever!”
The next blow was more vicious than the last, and I came to the horrifying conclusion I wouldn’t be able to hold him off for long. Once the door broke, I was done for.
So I used the only weapon I had: my voice. I kept screaming, hoping someone would come to my rescue. Anyone. How could people stand by while a lunatic tried to break into a woman’s room?
But he kept coming, a battering ram of muscle destroying the door with each strike. Soon, his fingers were slipping through, clutching at the door frame as he gained leverage.
I gripped the small, cylindrical trash can and swung, a sickening crunch sounding as the metal met his digits followed by a roar, a final blow against the door sending me and the dresser flying. I barely avoided the television as it fell, rolling to the side at the last second.
When I looked back at the door, I saw the devil where it once stood, Rick’s chest heaving as he eyed me with rage, the fingers I struck hanging mangled from his left hand. “Bad idea, kid.”
I reached for the can again, but in one stride, he kicked it away, the metal clanging off the bed frame.
“What do you want?” I growled, refusing to let him see my fear. Not giving him the satisfaction of tears. He’d come an awfully long way, and I’d make sure he left disappointed.
“Seems like you and I know a little something that the world should know, but your boyfriend doesn’t want the word out there.”
“You’re fucking delusional,” I spat, summoning my inner Lil.
He stomped over, looming above as I lie flat on my back, his booted foot resting on my chest, pushing me into the disgusting carpet beneath me, stiff and putrid with god knows what holding the polyester upright. It was a horrible way to go if it was my time, but I wouldn’t go out a coward.
“Me?” he laughed, leaning forward to press nearly all his weight on my chest, squeezing the air out of my lungs in an instant. “You’re the one still protecting someone who left you to die. If I hadn’t found you, I’m sure one of the others would have eventually.”
The others?
I couldn’t reply, his foot still wedged between my breasts, forcing the wire of my bra into my sternum. “Damn shame, too. I know a whole bunch of people that would love to get their hands on you.”
As I looked up at the man I thought
to be a friend at one time, I saw nothing but hatred staring back at me in his green eyes. It was then that I understood I wasn’t getting out of the hotel room alive. Not if he had his way.
But I didn’t want to die. Not like that. Not before seeing Ethan again. Not before meeting our child, the positive testing on the bathroom vanity giving me all the strength I needed to make sure I’d walk out of there.
I couldn’t wait for the police to save me.
I had to do it myself.
I bucked upright, on one hand, trying to shake him off, and on the other, hoping to distract him as I searched the surrounding floor for anything to help me. It worked, a small shard of table leg finding my hand. It was sharp, slicing through skin as I wrapped my fingers around it.
Rick forced his heel downward, the pain forcing my back to the floor, but not restricting my hand. I swung it upright, jabbing into his left leg from behind with the splinter of wood, plowing through tissue as it tunneled into the back of his knee until I hit bone, a feral cry erupting from his lips as he staggered to the side, his foot lifting from my chest, allowing me to scramble to my feet.
I made it two steps before a hand gripped my hair, but I was ready, whirling to slash with a piece of wood I’d palmed in my other hand. The wooden spike embedded in his forearm, and he instantly released his hold, giving me a chance to sprint to the bathroom.
Most people would’ve run straight out the door, but I couldn’t leave Stanley. He was all I had left of Lil.
As soon as I opened the door, he bolted, ten pounds of rage leaping over the broken wood with speed I hadn’t thought possible given his paunchiness. Like the world’s most unorthodox police canine, he hurled himself in the air toward Rick, teeth sinking into the crotch of his pants, a cry unlike any I’d ever heard barreling from Rick’s chest, somewhere between a cat in heat and an eagle screeching.
He swung his hands forward to strike the dog, but Stanley wasn’t having it, thrashing about with a mouthful of man-berries, refusing to budge. “Get this fucking thing off me!” he shouted, face nearly purple in pain.
I heard the stomping of boots then, the harsh order that followed making me slump to the floor in relief. “Police! Get your hands where I can see them!”
We were safe.
* * *
Rick was hauled away in handcuffs after a policeman pried Stanley’s jaws from him with a flashlight handle, passing me the raging beast before he could do the same to anyone else. Every man seemed to cringe as we walked by, no doubt hearing the particulars about Stanley and his testicular death grip.
I left him in the back of a police car for safekeeping while paramedics tended to my bloodied hands, surface cuts and a few splinters my only battle scars. As soon as I shut the door behind him, I swore I heard sighs of relief.
The first responders kept me distracted while they worked on my hands by detailing the damage I’d done to Rick, every new revelation coming as they pulled an embedded hunk of wood from my flesh. A broken hand. Torn tendons in his arm. A mangled knee.
But Stanley was the real MVP of the night, leaving his package a mutilated mess of puncture wounds. One of the paramedics thought he might have even ruptured a testicle, the ham on four legs delivering the worst bite he’d ever seen.
The distraction worked, and before I knew it, I was bandaged and escorted back to the police car to wait for my ride with Stanley. And when a black Tahoe appeared on the scene, I knew it had arrived.
Ethan sprang from the backseat, his black slacks and tee a rumpled mess as he rushed over, worried eyes searching the throngs of onlookers for me, two massive bodyguards flanking him.
I stepped out of the police car with my backpack over one shoulder and Stanley held close, not wanting a repeat of earlier. I couldn’t help but smile thinking of it. It figured Lil’s dog would be a literal ballbuster. I could practically hear her laughing.
I walked toward Ethan, but he didn’t see me, still combing faces. It wasn’t until I was a few feet away that he found me, relief flooding his taut features as he rushed over, crushing me to his chest, Stanley’s head poking free as he snarled.
“Fuck.” Ethan buried his face in my hair, hands running along my back, rediscovering every inch. “I thought I lost you.”
I pulled free, giving Stanley some wiggle room as I brushed a tear from Ethan’s cheek for a change. “I’m scrappier than you think.”
He laughed as he kissed me. “So I’ve heard. We listened to the reports roll in on the police scanner. Maybe I should start calling you Stabby?”
“Please don’t,” I giggled, my lips finding solace with his again. “Plum is fine.”
Ethan
We didn’t land in Boston until well after midnight, the helicopter ride back a blur of kisses and crying, both unraveling as emotion struck in waves.
I was eternally grateful to have her safe in my arms. I knew how much worse things could have gone, the information relayed to me on the helicopter ride down too horrifying to imagine.
Rick Gray had a hunting knife in his waistband along with a handwritten manifesto detailing his obsession with Ever, a play by play of our “relationship” and Kee’s alleged intrusion, years of detective work resulting in a deluded fantasy. He’d known who I was for years after following a paper trail through LLCs to piece together a puzzle that others couldn’t. He only exposed me when he saw Kee and I in photos, realizing she wasn’t a stand-in like others had been.
It was too terrifying to explain to Kee after what she’d gone through. I’d tell her once we were home, safely locked inside with six-hundred pounds of armed muscled outside the door.
She surrendered to exhaustion once we were in the car at Logan International, curling up in the passenger’s seat with Stanley on her chest as I drove home, a security detail following close behind. Her bandaged hands rested on her attack goblin’s back, the dynamic duo taking down a psychopath who was hell-bent on destroying them.
It was there in the quiet darkness of the Mercedes that I vowed she’d never be in harm’s way again. I’d dissolve the LLCs and come up with a new structure for Ever, all while burying Rick, his delusions painted in the headlines as just that - crazy talk. All that the world needed to know was that a sick man tried to do evil things to an innocent woman. Compared to the Ever story, it’d last a news cycle or two before we faded into obscurity again.
The sound of the private garage bay door woke my vigilante passengers almost a half hour later, Stanley barking while Kee let out a glamorous snort as she sat up straight.
“Home sweet home, sleepyheads.”
“Sorry I dozed off.” She rubbed at her eyes as I pulled into a spot, her ponytail flopping to the side.
“It’s okay. Shanking criminals is exhausting, I know.”
“So is swooping in with your own personal army,” she teased with a nudge of my shoulder. “Way to hire a team of mercenaries to fly us home in a friggin helicopter, dude.”
They weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. The cat was out of the bag. I had money. I might as well use it to keep us safe.
Two guards escorted us upstairs before taking their posts outside the door with hands clasped at the waist, both keeping a notable distance from Stanley and his ball-cutter jaws as Kee passed by.
With a click of the door behind me, the mood shifted, the heaviness of the day stripped away as soon as we crossed the threshold to our safe haven in the sky.
Kee set Stanley down, his nails clicking on the marble as he headed to his bed. The little shit didn’t know it, but I was buying him a wagyu steak as a reward.
“Next up: Stanley gets a girlfriend?” I asked, turning to Kee who was kicking out of her flats.
“I don’t know. He’s ornery enough on his own. I might look into hiring a trainer when I find a place.”
“Kee,” I breathed, too tired to have the argument we were about to have but willing to go there to prove a point. “Stay with me here. Please.”
She removed her hair tie, sha
king her curls free as she threw the band on the console table. “Is that your solution to all this? Locking me in here like a prisoner? I need to have a life, Eth.”
“I never said you couldn’t,” I stressed, fully aware that Kee did as Kee pleased. I never expected to control her. I just wanted her safe with me. “But I have plenty of room. You don’t even have to sleep with me.”
“If I stay here,” she began, stepping toe to toe with me. “I demand you sleep with me.”
I smiled down at my better half, the stubborn tilt to her chin letting me know she’d hold me to my word. “Your wish is my command.”
She rose to her tippy toes, her lips gently grazing mine. “Starting now.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” My hands snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against me as I invaded her mouth.
She met me every step of the way, giggling as her bandaged hands found my belt buckle. “We look like we’re wearing oven mitts.”
“Sexiest fucking bakers the world has ever seen,” I added, lips sliding to her neck as I unfastened her dress, clumsy fingers fumbling with the zipper. It fell to the floor in a forgotten heap, the woman I loved standing in front of me in nothing but pink panties and a strapless black bra.
With her hands out of service, I unhooked my own belt one-handed, the two of us laughing at our bandaged bodies as my pants fell to join her dress. I was already raring to go, cock hot and ready for her as it stretched my boxer briefs to capacity.
Her lips found mine again as I unclipped her bra, pausing for a brief second to pull my shirt overhead before meeting again, a whirlwind of kisses and caresses unleashed. When my hand met her breast she moaned, sending a bolt of electricity through me. I teased the hard nub for a moment before she brushed my hand where she really wanted it - nestled between her thighs.