Allure

by Lacey Weatherford

  “We remind you, if you see this man, please do not approach him. He’s considered armed and dangerous. A statewide manhunt remains in effect at this time. Again, if you have any information regarding the whereabouts of Mayor Scott Hall’s daughter, please inform authorities.” A picture of Brooklyn flashed on the scene. “Brooklyn Hall was kidnapped from her home by an intruder after her father was assaulted in his office.” The screen switched to a live shot of the woman standing in front of the mayor’s house, which was taped off and surrounded by multiple police cars. “We’re waiting still for an official statement from the mayor’s staff. Until then, officials are asking for the public to please keep an eye out for a red Jaguar, license number . . . .”

  Brooklyn appeared in the doorway, a towel wrapped around her. “Six. I overheard. I’m so sorry you’ve been dragged into all of this. I never thought things would ever go this far.”

  Patting the spot on the bed next to me, I sighed as she joined me. I wrapped my arm around her and she leaned her head against my chest. “None of this is your fault. I’d do it all again if it means knowing you’re safe. That’s all that matters to me.”

  “But at what cost? Sullying your reputation? Causing you to lose your jobs? People hear crap like this and they never give those accused another chance.” Her raspy voice grew more panicked.

  “Hey. Hey,” I said, rubbing my hand up and down her arm. “Don’t get freaked out. The truth is going to come out, sweetheart. And when it does, the whole world is going to know what a creep your dad is. We’re going to beat this. Both of us, you hear me?”

  “I’m just scared.” She snuggled closer and I stared at her bruised hands and wrist. Her knuckles where split open from banging against the door and she had bruises on one of her wrists from where he’d dragged her.

  “Don’t be scared.” I didn’t care what I had to do, but I’d fight to my last breath to keep her safe. “I’ll never leave you,” I added.

  ***

  It was after midnight when the knock came on the door. Immediately, I disentangled myself from Brooklyn and went into the small living area, glancing out the peephole to see Dee Dee standing on the other side with bags in her arms. I quickly opened the door, letting her slip inside, taking some of the plastic bags from her and following her into the kitchen, setting them on the table.

  “Sorry I took so long,” she said, “I wanted to make sure no one was watching. I even dropped in to check on Scott and make sure he was “okay.” That man is a piece of work. I got the whole song and dance about the ‘break in’ and how Brooklyn was ‘kidnapped,’ too.” She made air quotations after each of the words. “How’s Brooklyn doing?”

  “She finally fell asleep,” I told her. “She’s pretty freaked out about the whole manhunt thing, though. She’s also worried about her mom. While she’s not concerned about worrying her dad, she is about her mom.”

  Dee Dee began unpacking the bags as she spoke. “Helen is still in the hospital. For now, she’s unaware of what’s happened. They’re letting her sleep now, as she recovers, and they’ll tell her tomorrow. I hate to see her scared over all this, too, but we need to handle this right.”

  Grabbing some of the food she’d unpacked, I started putting things away in the cupboard and the fridge. “And how exactly is this going to go?”

  “First,” she paused, glancing through several bags before reaching into one. “I got you a prepaid phone.” She put it out on the table. “I needed to be able to reach you and have the number be untraceable. I got one for me, as well, so there’s no way our calls can be traced. I don’t think that’s going to be an issue, but better safe than sorry.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “That makes me feel a little better, knowing we can reach you.”

  “Regarding the plan I have, it isn’t much, but here it is. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Scott has people in his pocket. He’s friends with judges, police officers, lawyers—the works. I’m not saying they’re all corrupt, but I am saying some of them are. I just don’t know whom to trust. If the two of you had called 911 instead of coming to me, I have no doubt he would’ve been able to twist things to his favor. He’d have Brooklyn, and you’d be sitting in a jail cell right now.”

  “So, where does that leave us?” I asked, feeling my frustration growing.

  “My brother, the attorney, in Arizona, is aware of the situation and is putting out feelers for me, trying to help me find someone I can take this information to. I told him what you overheard about Tommy and I sent him the pictures we took, yesterday. If anything happens to me, you have another person who can corroborate your story. I’m trying to cover all the bases, here.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate everything you’re doing.”

  “Brooklyn is like a daughter to me. Tommy used to joke that she was more my kid than she ever was Scott’s.”

  “Did he ever hit you?” I asked, needing to know.

  She shook her head. “He got rough with me a couple times, grabbing me by the arm and things like that, but he never hit me. He knew I had family I could go to for help.”

  “I asked because I wondered about Helen. I thought maybe she would testify to it if she knew her daughter was in danger. Brooklyn says she stays in her room when she’s home, because they fight so much.”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea. I’ve never really been around Helen that much. But I know Scott wants her to look like the perfect wife in the perfect family. I can’t see him putting any bruises on her for fear it might start rumors, which could hurt his image.”

  Sinking into one of the chairs at the table, I sighed. “That makes sense, I guess. I just want all his dirty secrets aired so there’s no chance of him ever getting out of jail. I don’t want him to ever be able to hurt Brooklyn, again.”

  She smiled, patting me on the shoulder. “You’re good for her. I’m glad she has you to take care of her.”

  “I love her,” I said looking up at her. “It’s killing me to see her go through this.”

  “You worry about keeping her safe, here. I’ll do my best to get things into the proper hands out there. But whatever you do, don’t go outside or stand in the windows or anything like that. Your faces have been plastered everywhere.”

  A wry chuckled escaped me. “Yeah, I’m being painted as the criminal of the century right now, and Scott’s the heroic dad who tried to save his daughter. People hate me and the sympathy factor has just gone through the roof for the ‘poor’ mayor.”

  Dee Dee rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to hand it to Rhonda. She’s good at her job.”

  “I used to think Brooklyn was exaggerating her skills. I see, now, I was wrong. She wasn’t.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to get this all taken care of. Trust me. When it’s all finished, you’re going to be the hero of the century and Scott will be the criminal.” She pointed to several bags. “Those are some clothes for the two of you. They aren’t fancy, mostly gym shorts and t-shirts for you, and leggings and t-shirts for Brooklyn. I didn’t know exact sizes, but I wanted you both to be comfortable.”

  “No worries. Those sound perfect. The only fine dining the two of us will be doing is in this kitchen. There’s no reason for us to be dressing up. Thanks for the food.”

  “That bag over there has ibuprofen and Tylenol, plus shampoo, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and deodorant. There’s also some disposable razors. I hope I got everything you might need.”

  “I’m sure it’s all fine. I’ll be sure to reimburse you for all of this.”

  “I won’t even consider it. I’m glad to help.” She wagged her finger in my face. “Call me if you need anything. I don’t care if it’s for a bucket of ice. The two of you can’t be seen leaving this room for any reason. I’ll come and get your laundry for you, if needed, too. Hopefully you won’t be here that long.”

  “What about maid service? Do they do that here?”

  “I told them I’d be in and out at odd hours and to please not disturb the
room. I also told them I’d pick up fresh towels, as needed. Hopefully they won’t bother you.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I better get going and let you get some rest. Is there anything else you need?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I can think of at the moment. I think you’ve covered things pretty well.” Standing, I bent to give her a hug. “Thank you, for everything.”

  “Thank you for being friends with my boy and for taking care of Brooklyn. You have a good heart. Hang in there. We’re going to make it through this. I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brooklyn

  Six lay sleeping beside me as I watched the news, listening to the updates on the manhunt. Dozens of anchors on different channels were talking about how horrible he was and what a vile past he’d had. He was the one being painted as the monster, a brutal abuser who should be considered armed and dangerous. Everyone said he was bad, dangerous, and not a good fit for any respectable girl. It was laughable.

  Yes, he was tough. Yes, he lived a rougher life than I had. Yes, one of the jobs he had was of a sexual nature. Yes, he was a self-admitted party animal. All that was true. But, for some reason, I couldn’t seem to resist him. To me, he was perfect . . . in all his wicked glory.

  Staring at him, I saw nothing but a wonderful, loving man—a person who had willingly turned his life completely upside down to help keep someone else safe. He was only guilty of being wickedly sexy, as far as I was concerned.

  I briefly wondered what those who knew him were thinking after seeing all these stories on the news about him. Did they believe he was the vile person he was being painted to be? Or did they think there was no way this could be correct and the media had to have things wildly screwed up?

  So far, I’d seen no one speaking out in his behalf—not his uncle, not Brandon, not Bailey—no one. It made me wonder if they’d been warned to keep silent. Had my dad gotten to them? Where they okay? Knowing what I did about him now, there was no way I’d put it past him not to go after the others.

  Six shifted beside me, groaning slightly as he rolled over from his side onto his stomach.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” I teased, as he opened one eye squinting at me briefly before shutting it, again.

  A smile flitted over his mouth. “Mmm. I must still be dreaming. There’s a goddess in my bed.”

  “Oh wow. I’ve graduated from a queen to a goddess—and all while I have bed-head and bruises, even. If you keep complimenting me this way, where are you going to go from here?”

  “Hey, now. You can’t quiz me like this when I first wake up. You’re going to hurt my brain.”

  I laughed, moving so I could place a peck against his cheek.

  “Come here,” he said, opening his arms so I could lie inside them. Wrapping them around me, he hugged me tightly before suddenly releasing me. “Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot how sore you are.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Hugs are healing, didn’t you know?” Slipping my arm around his waist, I hugged him back. “I love cuddling with you.”

  “I like that, too. How’re you feeling?”

  “Still on the stiff and sore side, but I think if I get up and stretch, it may help to get these muscles loosened up.”

  “Come on,” he said, nudging me. “Let’s give you some pain pills and get you in a warm shower. I’ll even wash your hair for you.”

  “I already took some about a half hour ago. Thank you for leaving them on the nightstand with a glass of water for me. I didn’t even hear Dee Dee come last night.”

  “It was after midnight and I figured your needed your rest more than anything. I put those there just in case you woke up hurting. She also brought you some clothes. They’re in the bags on the dresser over there.”

  “Awesome.” I followed him into the bathroom, my stomach growling, and I suddenly realized I’d gone all day yesterday without food. “What’s on the menu for breakfast?”

  Turning on the water, he tested it before moving to the toilet to relieve himself. I couldn’t help smiling. I’d never had a guy take care of his needs in front of me, before. It seemed so . . . normal, somehow. Like we were just an average couple going about our daily routine.

  Undressing, I climbed into the shower, sighing at how good it felt.

  “Depends on what you’re in the mood for. She brought a couple boxes of cold cereal, but there’s eggs and sausage, too, if you want something hot.”

  “Definitely the eggs and sausage,” I replied. “I’ll cook it as soon as we’re done showering.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Six replied, climbing in behind me and sliding his arms around my waist. “You’re going to rest and let me take care of you.”

  Turning in his arms, I faced him. “Six, I’m not an invalid. Nothing is broken. I’m just bruised here and there.”

  “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” Lightly, he placed his palm on the side of my face. “Your cheek is purple.” Trailing his fingers to my neck he paused and I thought I could feel him tremble. “I can see his fingerprint marks on your neck.” Moving lower, he touched my stomach. “And this bruise here is huge where he kicked you.” Encircling my arms, he lifted them. “This one wrist looks like you were chained to something, and your palms are bruised and your knuckles split open on both.”

  “The palms and knuckles are my fault, from banging on the door,” I reminded him.

  “Banging on a door he locked you behind.” He released my hands. “Don’t you get it? I look at you and I’m constantly reminded of how I failed you. If I’d gotten up off the floor and gotten dressed quicker at Bailey’s, maybe I could’ve prevented all this from happening. This is my fault—just as much as it is his. So you’re going to rest and let me take care of you.”

  “You were injured, too. I didn’t expect you to come running after me at all.”

  His eyes locked with mine, searching them and he stepped even closer. “I will always come running after you, sweetheart.” Sliding his hands to the sides of my face, he lightly kissed my lips before looking at me, again. “Marry me, Brooklyn.”

  “Wha . . . what?” I asked, completely caught off guard and my heart started fluttering in my chest.

  “Marry me. I know we have to wait until you’re eighteen; and I know you have dreams of your own and things you want to do with your life, but I swear I’ll support you in whatever you want to do. Just say you’ll marry me. We can wait for as long as you want, I just need to know I’ll get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. The sincerity shone from his eyes.

  “I am. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. You make me feel things I never thought possible. And this whole experience . . . well, it just highlighted all that for me, even stronger. Seeing you dragged away from me—I can’t do that. I need you in my life. Whatever it takes for me to get you, I’ll gladly do it. I’ll give you anything you want. Just say yes.”

  “I don’t need or want anything else, but you. That’s more than enough.” Tears gathered in my eyes and I smiled.

  A grin broke out across his face. “That sounded like a yes. Was that a yes?”

  Laughing, I slid my arms around his neck. “Yes, that was a yes.”

  “Hell yeah!” he shouted loudly, kissing me again, our teeth banging against each other because neither of us could stop smiling.

  “I have to say this proposal story is going to be a little embarrassing to tell. ‘Mom? How’d Daddy propose to you? Well, honey, we were standing naked in the shower . . . .’”

  Six laughed heartily. “I swear I love you even more, just hearing you talk about our kids.”

  “Kids?” I asked. “Plural? How many kids do you want?”

  “I’ll take a dozen if they all look like their momma.” He kissed me again, deeper this time, turning and pressing me against the shower wall. “Or we can have a couple and just practice a lot.”

  �
�Oh, I like the sound of that,” I breathed out, my body quickly responding to him.

  “You know what they say, practice makes perfect.” He grinned.

  “I already think sex with you is pretty perfect.”

  Groaning, he leaned his forehead against mine. “Sweetheart, you can’t say things like that to me right now. Not while you’re hurt and I can’t do anything with you.”

  “Trey Jagger!” I said, calling him by his real name. “I swear, if you just proposed to me and you don’t do anything, I might end up beating you.”

  Chuckling, his eyes sparkled as he stared into mine. “Did you just threaten me?”

  “I did. Now get to it,” I ordered with a smile.

  “Are you sure you’re up for it? I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Six, please,” I practically begged, reaching down, I wrapped my fingers around his engorged shaft and stroked him. Groaning, he closed his eyes and rocked his hips forward.

  “Damn that feels amazing, sweetheart.”

  “As long as you’re good, I’m good. I need you.”

  “I’m good,” he replied gruffly, surprising me when he reached for the bottle of shampoo. “But we’re going to take this slow this time. I want to enjoy every inch of your body at a nice leisurely pace. We always have to rush to catch fast, frantic moments together. Now I have you all to myself and I want to go slow. Really slow.”

  Pouring a generous amount of shampoo into his palm, he set the bottle down and rubbed his hands together lightly, before placing them in my hair. Closing my eyes, I moaned as he rubbed and kneaded my scalp, the fruity aroma filling the steamy shower.

  “That feels wonderful,” I said, feeling like I was being extremely pampered.

  “I agree, but you might want to ease off a little,” he said, his voice tight. “If you keep that up I’m not going to last very long.”

  Glancing down, I laughed, not realizing I was gripping him even tighter. I’d been so lost in the shampooing. “Sorry,” I said, releasing him, but still lightly running my fingertips over it. “I’m kind of fascinated with this particular body part of yours, though. It’s fun to play with.”