“Shit. How the hell did I forget that?”You know exactly how.
Jackson grumbled for the angel on his shoulder to shut the hell up and went about the business of checking all the doors and windows on the first floor, making sure all the locks were in place and the house was safe.
He dragged himself up the stairs. Their lack of progress on the case and his absentmindedness about the security check still bothered him, but he was determined to keep his disappointment to himself.
Aja didn’t need to know any of this. Despite his recent lapse in judgment, the Rangers were doing everything they could to protect her.What if that isn’t enough? Could you live with her getting hurt on your watch?
He stood in the middle of the hall and looked back and forth between her bedroom door and his. If he walked into her room, he’d never be able to stop himself until he was buried deep inside her. If he crossed her threshold, he wouldn’t be able to protect her because he’d be too busy satisfying her.
He couldn’t do this. No matter how much he wanted to.
He went inside his room and closed the door before he could talk himself out of doing what was right. The way he’d succumbed to his desires in the great room didn’t leave him much hope he could control himself in Aja’s bedroom.
He sat at the side of the bed as he’d done the previous night, checking his firearm in case he needed to use it. He had several stashed throughout the house and the ranch to get to at a moment’s notice. When he was satisfied the gun was prepped, he slipped it inside its hip holster and put it back inside the nightstand drawer.
The guns weren’t the singular security measure he’d taken. He’d even acquired Aja’s permission and made three sets of bump keys for his team to gain access to the house in the event of an emergency. Safeguarding Aja’s home had been the first thing on his agenda. Even if the ranch’s defenses were lax—or better phrased, nonexistent—where she slept needed to be safe. There was no compromise about that. Earlier he’d been thinking like a lawman; tonight, he’d been thinking as a simple man. No more. Not until the bastard trying to harm Aja was apprehended.
Jackson heard athumpin the hall that pulled his attention to his closed door. He knew what Aja’s footsteps sounded like by now, and that wasn’t them. He grabbed his holstered weapon, attaching it to the waistband of his pants in the small of his back before he sent off a quick text to Colton and Storm.
Possible B&E. Need backup. Perp possibly in 2nd floor Master. Going in. Enter through rear.
Text sent, he stepped easily across his room. His hand on his automatic pistol, he cracked the door open, using the tiny slit to check the hall. When he was reasonably certain it was clear, he eased the door back and walked across the hall to Aja’s bedroom. He leaned in for a beat, listening for any signs that this was merely his overactive lawman’s imagination at work, when he heard the telltale sound of glass breaking. Satisfied that his instincts were correct, he stepped back far enough to kick the door open.
Time moved in slow motion as he assessed the scene. The room was dark with only the light from the hall spilling in from the doorway. He could make out the broken glass and wood panels on the balcony door, as well as the two figures—one Aja’s, lying on her back in her bed fighting, with a stranger crouched on top of her with his hands around her neck.
Jackson aimed his weapon, but with Aja and the intruder entangled in the dark, he couldn’t risk taking a shot. Instead, he holstered his weapon, then took a running dive for the bed, knocking the assailant down on the floor where they tussled for purchase on top of glass shards and wood splinters. He’d bear a few nicks and scratches from this scrimmage for sure, but he couldn’t pay attention to that now. He hadn’t heard Aja make a sound since he’d barged in; he needed to make certain she wasn’t hurt.
He used his bulk to swing them around so he straddled the struggling body beneath his. Jackson landed two punches to the mask-covered face and was about to level a third when the assailant swung his arm wide. At first, Jackson thought the man threw a bad punch. But the biting sting of glass cutting through his upper arm assured him that the intruder’s aim was spot-on.
He released his hold, and the masked man seized the opportunity to push Jackson off him and scurry through the broken balcony doors. “Dammit!”
Jackson heard footsteps bounding up the stairs. It was probably his backup, but until he could hear Colton’s loud baritone asking for his twenty, he wouldn’t be caught off guard. “I’m in the master bedroom.”
His two men came in with guns drawn until they laid eyes on Jackson. Colton came to assist Jackson with his arm while Storm headed for Aja’s bed. She was still and quiet, which didn’t correlate with the scene. She should be yelling her head off right now in fear or shock. Quiet wasn’t right. Fear spilled down Jackson’s spine in cold, hard waves that made him flinch as he watched Storm place two fingers against the side of her neck to check for a pulse.
“It’s strong and steady. She’s alive but passed out.”
Relief spread through Jackson like air-conditioning on a hot Texas day. It tingled the top layer of his skin until it permeated his cells and he could feel the heat receding into nothingness.
He pushed past Colton and moved Storm out of the way until he sat beside Aja. He placed a gentle hand on her cheek and had to fight not to press his lips to hers. “Contact the sheriff and get an ambulance out here, then check around the perimeter. When it’s safe, tell Seneca and Brooklyn to make sure their doors and windows are locked and that they don’t come out until one of us says it’s safe.”
The lack of movement yanked his attention from Aja’s still form. “Why are you still standing here?”
Colton stepped forward. “Are we certain it wasn’t one of them?”
Jackson shook his head. “That was a man I was tousling with.” He stared at Aja’s sleeping face and stroked his thumb across a raised, reddened spot on her cheek. That hadn’t been there thirty minutes ago when he’d had her on the couch in his arms. Then she’d been happy and satisfied as he stroked her to release. Now, she was still and hurt, and Jackson wanted to break something or someone for daring to harm her.
His heart rate picked up as anger pulsed through him. He’d left her alone because he thought their connection had compromised his ability to protect her. It wasn’t lost on him that this attack might never have happened if he’d gone to her like he’d originally planned instead of letting his fears get the better of him. Would he ever get this right?
“With all that’s been happening on this ranch, I don’t believe this was a random break-in. I’d bet my badge this is our perp. If I hadn’t heard him, he’d have killed her.” He jerked his thumb toward the doorway. “Get some help in here now. I’ll sit with her.”
His men moved quickly and dispersed from the room. When he and Aja were alone, Jackson slid down next to her so he could touch her the way he needed to, desperate to feel her heat against him as proof she was still here for him to hold and keep close. He’d process later why he wanted those things. But right now, all he cared about was ensuring that Aja was safe.
“Aja, baby. I need you to open your eyes for me.” She still didn’t move, so he pressed his lips to her temple, thankful she was warm to the touch. “Aja, girl. Come on, let me see those beautiful brown eyes.” When she remained unresponsive, panic swelled in his chest. What if he hadn’t gotten to her in time? What if she couldn’t wake up?
“Aja.” He applied firm, hard pressure to her shoulder. Not enough to hurt her, but certainly enough to cause her discomfort and wake her. The muscles in her face flinched, but he kept pressing on her shoulder. Responding to pain wasn’t enough. He needed her awake and alert. Her eyes fluttered, and he released the breath he’d been holding. “Aja?”
She moaned softly. “Can you please stop squeezing my shoulder?” He lightened the pressure as soon as she spoke. Her words were a little jumbled, but he could make out what she was saying. “I don’t need a new set of handprint bruises to match the ones I probably have on my neck.”
