Onyx stands a few feet away, temporarily out of breath from his fight. When his eyes finally find me, his expression is fierce, raw and terrifying in its intensity. It makes me feel things for him that I haven’t felt in a long time.
Before we can connect after this fairly significant trauma, Frisky shoots out from beneath the couch. Mica almost trips over him as he drags the intruder away. Frisky runs straight to me. His small body is trembling. He lets out a broken meow as he jumps into my lap. The poor thing was terrified.
“I’m here,” I whisper, cuddling him up against my chest. He presses his face into the crook of my arm, and goes still, like he’s hiding from the world. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” I don’t know if what I’m saying and doing is making it better or not. I feel so helpless right now.
I hear footsteps, and then Onyx drops down on one knee in front of us. He’s a bloody, battered mess, but he finds a comfortable position and settles down on the floor with us.
“Em,” he says. His voice is rough, but so gentle it unravels the last of my defenses. “Talk to me. Are you hurt anywhere? What did he do to you?”
I try to answer. My mouth opens, but nothing comes. I clear my throat and try again. “I’m fine. He didn’t touch me. He just smashed up all my electronics and threatened to hurt my cat if I didn’t do as he wanted. He’s an asshole and deserved every punch you gave him.”
Onyx gives me a tired, lopsided grin. “He’s also a fugitive with a warrant out for his arrest over a missing girlfriend.”
I gasp. “Really, they think he did something to his girlfriend?”
Onyx nods, flexing one bloody hand. “Yeah, that’s what our police contact said. You’re lucky our club was notified and agreed to search our land for him.”
“This isn’t your property,” I tell him sharply.
He lifts up both hands in a placating gesture. “I get that. Our family owns every piece of land for fifty miles in every direction around your place, but you’re right, this is in your name.”
I relax a bit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. It’s just that this is all I have left of my grandfather, and I don’t want to lose it.”
“That won’t ever happen, Emily,” he says with a note of finality.
“Thank you, Onyx,” I tell him, meaning it. “I’m glad you came here today.”
“You should thank Forge. We gave her that asshole’s shirt to sniff and she led us right to him.”
I can’t help the faint smile that curves up my lips. “You still have that big black German Shepherd?”
He flat out grins at me. Even with a busted lip and bruised up face, he’s still the most handsome man I know.
“You better believe it. I like her better than most people in my life.”
Onyx has always been like this, down to earth and easy to talk to. It’s too bad we drifted apart when I went off to college and he joined the military. We see each other on occasion, but it’s not like it was before.
Lights flash through the trees outside. I know it’s the police, so I try to pull myself together the rest of the way. “It’s our contact, Detective Morgan,” he states quietly. “I called him when I realized the man was in your cabin.”
“I guess they’re gonna want me to give a statement, right?”
He glances out the door. We see a man in plain clothes squatting down to pet their dogs. He apparently carries dog treats, and it doesn’t take a hot minute for the dogs to start sniffing around his jacket pocket. There are a couple of uniformed officers talking to Mica.
An ambulance shows up a few minutes later and they put Brennan inside along with one of the uniformed officers. Truth be told, I’m glad to see the back side of him.
Once he’s seen the ambulance off, Detective Morgan comes to the front door. I push up from the floor and let him in. He has kind eyes and stretches out his hand for me to shake. I take it and say, “Welcome, Detective. I’m glad you could come out on short notice.”
I gesture for him to have a seat in my trashed living room. To his credit, he picks up a chair that got knocked over and sets it right before sitting down.
“I’m sorry our fugitive tried to prey on you today, Emily,” Morgan responds politely. “I knew your grandfather. Hope everything’s been going well for you, living out here all by yourself?”
“Thank you. I’m fine. I prefer the quiet life, so this works out for me.”
“Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
When I tell him no, he breaks an old-fashioned cop’s notebook out of his back pocket and begins rattling off question after question. Unfortunately, I don’t know much. I do tell him how the guy was paranoid about being stalked and the lies he told to get into my home. That part embarrasses me to talk openly about, but I do anyway.
“You should be proud of yourself.”
