Deathmarch (Broslin Creek Book 7)

by Dana Marton

  Speaking of the devil, his cruiser swung into the parking lot, coming to a screeching halt.

  Harper to the rescue. She found that, just this once, she didn’t mind.

  She thought Kennan would put her down, so she shifted, which caused her to slip lower, but Kennan hauled her up, holding her tighter.

  And that was how Harper saw them when he jumped out of his car.

  * * *

  Oh, hell, no.

  No to all of it. To Zane having found Allie, having hurt her. To Kennan having his arms around her like that.

  Zane was already on the ground, looking half-dead. Harper barely paused to clip cuffs on and pat him down to check for weapons before moving on to kill his smirking sibling.

  “Anybody call an ambulance?” He glanced over his shoulder to his mother.

  “Your brother.”

  The very brother who was now just a step from Harper. “What are you doing?”

  Kennan shot him an amused look. “Carrying Allie upstairs.”

  “I’ll take her.”

  “Shouldn’t you handle the perpetrator?”

  “Mom is handling him. Don’t antagonize me.”

  Kennan wasn’t as stupid as he looked. He handed Allie over without further argument.

  She glared at Harper but wrapped her arms around his neck, and laid her head on his shoulder—which she hadn’t done to Kennan—so that toned down Harper’s pissed several notches.

  Kennan opened the door for them with a stupid know-it-all look. “So. Far. Gone.”

  Harper walked past him. Tell me something I don’t know, brother.

  “How badly are you hurt?” he asked Allie. “Why are you bleeding?”

  “Just a scratch.” She snuggled against him. “Nothing that some peroxide and ice won’t fix.”

  He didn’t believe her. He took the stairs slowly, careful not to jostle her. “Did he punch you in the face?”

  He couldn’t help it if his voice filled with murder. The secondary reason why he was carrying Allie upstairs himself was that he needed a moment before facing Zane. He was a good cop, dammit. And a good cop didn’t do the things Harper wanted to do to the bastard.

  Allie tensed in his arms. “He slapped me.”

  Harper bit back several choice curses. “How about I take you to the hospital? You had a concussion two days ago.”

  “Seriously, Harper, I don’t need the hospital. It’s not that bad.”

  They reached the top, and then Harper had her over on the couch, laying her down as gently as he could. He crouched next to her and checked her eyes. “Your pupils aren’t dilated. Any nausea?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t think you have another concussion.” He reached to the side table and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box, wiped away a couple of fresh droplets of blood. “Are you dizzy?”

  “No.”

  “Head hurts?” He forced himself to stay in emergency responder mode.

  She smiled at him and sang the first few lines of “I’m Alright” by Kenny Loggins.

  “Very good. Okay. Now, seriously.”

  “My ankle hurts a little. I pulled it when I was fighting to get away.”

  “We still have some of the acetaminophen they gave you at the ER the other night.” He hurried off, returning with two pills and water.

  “Thank you.”

  The way she sat there on his couch, roughed up but without a word of complaint, tough as the characters she reenacted, just dealing with it all, not fainting, not hysterical… The light glinted off a golden highlight here and there in her mess of silky hair, her full bottom lip swollen…

  A decade ago, he’d fallen for her sweetness, her innocent beauty. The way she used to look at him fed his budding male ego. He’d been way too young and stupid to fully appreciate what he had in her, his adolescent brain too steeped in lust.

  This Allie, the tough-as-nails version, he admired. He wanted to know more of her. He wanted more of her, period.

  Harper felt his professionalism slipping.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he said.

  “Like I keep saying, you’re not my babysitter.”

  “I promised you that you’d have the full protection of the law.”

  Due to the swollen lip, her smile turned out lopsided as she said, “I had the protection of the mother of the law.”

  That had him smiling back as he crouched by her side again so he could lean his forehead against hers. “Does this hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because I need to touch you somewhere.”

  He drew another slow breath before he pulled back to look at her. “Are you going to be all right while I go outside and deal with that asshole?”

  “Why isn’t the ambulance here for him yet? You should check on them.”

  “If you don’t get an ambulance, he doesn’t get an ambulance.”

  “I’m fine. He’s unconscious.”

  Harper shook his head as he stood. “If he’s still not awake when I get down there, I’ll check on the ambulance. If he’s awake, I’ll kick his ass.”

  “Harper!”

  He made himself step away from her. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  “And I was going to rappel out the window.”

  “Not funny. I’ll be right back.”

  He passed his mother on the stairs. She was carrying a first aid kit.

  Harper slowed to drop a kiss on her forehead. “Thanks for that.”

  She waved away his gratitude. “Allie fought for herself.” Grudging admiration crept into her voice. “She’s not a weak woman.”

  “Neither are you.”

  “That little shit never stood a chance.”

  He hesitated for a second, but then asked, “What made you change your mind about her?”

  “I ran into Robin.” His mother patted him on the arm. “You hurry on back. Allie might be strong, but at a time like this, a woman still needs her man.”

  Harper grinned. “You probably shouldn’t tell her that, or at least not in those words.”

  As his mother went up, he paused to listen for a second, wanting to make sure the two women did get along.

  Rose Finnegan started with “I’m sorry, Allie. I’ve been unkind before. I love my son. I want what’s best for him. I always have. But I shouldn’t have said the things to you I’ve said. I was wrong about you on every count, and I’d like to think I’m a big enough woman to admit it.”

  “You saved me down there.” Allie’s tone carried surprise and gratitude. “How about we leave the past in the past and start over?”

  Pausing for a second was one thing, outright eavesdropping was another, so Harper continued down with a smile on his face, glad things were going well upstairs.

  He lost that smile as soon as he stepped outside and saw Zane sitting with his back braced against the back tire of his SUV. Anger pushed Harper to lay the bastard out again. Training—and the need to see proper justice, Zane behind bars for a couple of years—held him back.

  Kennan was leaning against the bread truck, casually emanating a you-move-you-die vibe. When he saw Harper coming, he grabbed his pool cue and pushed away. “I need to get back to work.”

  “I’ll handle the rest. Thanks, bro. Allie… I…”

  “I know.”

  As Kennan walked back to the pub with a grin, Zane shot a murderous look at Harper, yanking on his handcuffs. “What the hell happened?”

  “You are under arrest for assault and attempted kidnapping.” Harper Mirandized him, then he grabbed the guy’s arm and pulled him to standing. “Do you need medical attention?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Believe me, I’m not itching to do you any favors.” But because the idiot had been out for a while, Harper called dispatch anyway and checked on the ambulance’s ETA.

  After he hung up, he called Chase. “Are you busy?”

  “Nothing that can’t be put aside for an hour or two. Need any help?”

  �
��Allie’s old boyfriend came by and tried to take her. I’m sending him to the hospital in an ambulance. Could you meet him there in about an hour, then when he’s released, toss him into lockup?”

  “Sure. Tell me you didn’t beat him up. Captain’s going to have your skin.”

  “I wasn’t here. My mother knocked him out.”

  Chase laughed. “I can see Rose knocking a guy out if he stepped out of line. All right. I just finished breaking up a dirt bike race out by the county dump. Couple of freaking ten-year-olds. They’re lucky neither of them has a broken neck. Parents just picked them up. I can leave for the hospital right now.”

  “Thanks. I owe you a beer at Finnegan’s.”

  “And the full story. I also think you should let me watch the security footage.”

  “Deal.”

  The ambulance was pulling in, so Harper hung up. He talked to the EMTs, this time two guys he didn’t know, handcuffed Zane to the stretcher once the men had him up there, then sent them off to meet Chase.

  The ambulance wasn’t even out of the parking lot yet when he was running up the stairs.

  “That was fast,” his mother remarked from the couch where she was sitting next to Allie. “I haven’t even had a chance to fix Allie up yet. We’ve just been talking.”

  Harper snatched the first aid kit from the coffee table. “I’ll take care of her.”

  His mother patted Allie’s knee, then stood up. “If you need any food or drink, just call down, and Kennan will send up a tray. If you’d like something not on the menu, I’ll make it. If this one”—she gestured toward Harper with her head—“gives you trouble, you let me know. I’ll keep my frying pan handy.”

  “Thank you,” Allie said with a wobbly smile, lying on the couch with two throw pillows under her ankle. “For everything.”

  Never comfortable with gratitude, Rose Finnegan waved away the words as she bustled toward the door. When she reached it, she stopped and turned. “If you two feel up to it in the morning, come over to the farmhouse for breakfast.”

  Harper walked to the sink to wash his hands, while Allie said, “Sorry you had to leave work because of this.”

  He strode back to her and popped the first aid kit open. “I was just waiting for the captain to get me a couple of warrants.”

  “I thought he was at Quantico.”

  “He has his laptop with him. He’s keeping an eye on the case. I’ll be making an arrest on the Lamm case as soon as the judge gets back to us.”

  “Was the killer one of the old guy’s friends?”

  Harper nodded, tugging on a pair of nitrile gloves, then he grabbed the packet of gauze and brown bottle of peroxide. “Try to stay still.”

  “Thank you for riding to the rescue, but you don’t have to do this.” She lifted her head from the sofa’s arm. “I can just do it in the bathroom mirror.”

  “I know you can. But I want you to let me, because I need to do something since I wasn’t here when you needed me.”

  She laid her head back. “Is my face swollen?”

  “Think Shrek in purple. If it was Halloween, you wouldn’t need a mask.” He drew back, shuddered. “I might have nightmares.”

  She punched him in the arm but laughed. “And people wonder why you’re still single.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe because the first girl I ever loved skipped out on me in the middle of the night. Scarred me for life.”

  “Get over it.”

  “Make me.”

  Heat flared between them without warning, as if it had been there the whole time, just locked behind doors on both sides, and now the locks could take no more strain, so those doors were bursting open.

  Truth was, he’d never found a replacement, because no replacement existed for Allie. He wanted her. He’d never stopped wanting her.

  Not the time to tell her. She was barely back, and she’d just been attacked. He’d waited a decade for a second chance with her. He could wait another day.

  He applied antibiotic cream to her lip and then pulled back. “Done.”

  She touched the goop with a tentative finger. “I should still be able to hit the road tomorrow, right? I have to get back to work. I need to leave.”

  Okay, so maybe he didn’t have another day. Maybe he did need to tell her now. He wanted her to stay, and his reasons were far from medical.

  “Now how am I supposed kiss you?” He put himself out there. If she smacked him down, so be it.

  Instead, the corner of her mouth turned up. “I can be kissed in other places.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I can be kissed in other places?

  Allie squeezed her eyes shut, mortified. Had she just said that to Harper? Maybe that slap had reactivated her concussion. Her brain was definitely addled.

  Also, he was sitting too close, and she could smell his shampoo’s woodlandsy scent. His shoulders filled out his jacket distractingly well. She knew the hard muscles of those shoulders; she’d been hanging on to them enough lately. He no longer had a lanky boy’s body, the one she remembered.

  He’d been her first.

  God, she did not want to remember that, right at this very moment. Or anything sex related that involved Harper. She did not want to remember what he used to look like naked. Or wonder what he would look like now, out of his clothes.

  He held her gaze, the heat in his eyes sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. “I’d like to kiss you in other places.”

  “I didn’t mean…” she said in an embarrassed whisper.

  “Let’s pretend you did.” Harper brushed his lips over her cheek.

  Then down the line of her jaw.

  Her heart began to race.

  He kissed her neck. She turned her head to give him better access.

  Harper Finnegan’s lips were on her skin. Her bones turned into rubber.

  Then his hands were on the buttons of her shirt, and his persistent fingers parted the fabric in seconds. He was touching her, and she ached with a decade-long ache and allowed herself to finally think what she hadn’t allowed herself to think until now.

  She’d missed him.

  “More?” he asked in a ragged whisper against her tingling skin.

  “More.”

  He freed her breasts from her bra, and then his hot lips closed around her nipple.

  Okay, maybe that was too much. No. Just right. She arched her back to press closer, digging her fingers into his thick hair. “Harper.”

  “What do you need?” he asked around her nipple.

  “Harper.”

  He sucked. Hard. No preliminary niceties, starting at full speed. The heat that spread across her skin stole her breath.

  Nothing existed but him…and the footsteps coming up the stairs.

  “Harper!”

  He heard the sound too and was pulling away already, putting her behind him, reaching for the gun in his holster.

  A rapid knock, then, without waiting for an answer, Kennan popped in, holding a steaming bowl.

  He nearly ran to the table, focusing on nothing but not spilling the contents. “Damn, this thing is hot. Mom said Allie might need some comfort food.”

  He set down the bowl and turned to them, and then immediately swung back away. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Um…I thought you were giving her first aid.”

  Allie clutched her shirt together behind Harper, doing her best not to laugh at Kennan’s embarrassment. Had she just made a Marine blush? She was going to have to mark that down on her list of accomplishments.

  “First aid can take many forms,” Harper responded to his brother, a smidgen more smug than he needed to be.

  “Right.” Kennan scrambled back to the stairs. “I’ll just leave you to it, then. Sorry, Allie.”

  “No problem.”

  The door closed.

  She choked on laughter.

  Harper turned back to her, drew her into his arms, and kissed the top of her head. “I should have locked the door. I don’t brin
g women here. I’m not used to having to think about securing the premises.”

  * * *

  I don’t bring women here.

  Allie was still thinking about that an hour later, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, ready to take a shower. Harper had to return to work. The judge had requested more information before the warrants could be issued.

  But as Allie stepped under the warm spray, she wasn’t thinking about the judge. She was thinking about Harper.

  I don’t bring women here.

  Why her, then?

  She stopped herself right there. She was not going to read too much into a few carelessly spoken words.

  Don’t fall for him again. Don’t fall for him again. Don’t fall for him again.

  Except if she stayed in his apartment with him, if they kept talking, and rediscovering each other, if he touched her again, she would fall. God, she was halfway there.

  And then what? Stick around? Give up her life, her business for a quick affair? Absolutely not.

  She needed to get out of here.

  So she showered and dressed, wrote a brief note for Harper to thank him for everything and to let him know that she’d gone back to her room at the B and B, and then she hobbled down the stairs.

  Up the street, around the corner, two blocks on Main Street. Doable. Allie’s progress was by no means fast, but the weather was all right outside, the sleet had stopped hours before, the sidewalks salted and dry. And when she walked through the B and B’s front door, Shannon greeted her with genuine warmth.

  “Oh, my goodness, your beautiful face! Oh, it must hurt. I called Rose a little while ago to ask how you were doing with your foot, and she told me what happened with that man. I’m so glad to see you. How are you feeling? A cup of tea? I heard you were cleared in the murder. I never doubted for a second that you would be.”

  “Yes, please, on the tea. And thank you for the vote of confidence.”

  Shannon smiled. “I’m an innkeeper. My Henry always said innkeepers know people. Have to have a good radar in this occupation. You don’t want to let someone stay with you who’ll rob you in the night or worse.”

  “I never thought about that.” Running a B and B seemed lovely and quaint, but Shannon was taking a risk. “Have you ever turned anyone away?”