CHAPTER 1
Grady
Iknow exactly where she is. I always know where she is. It’s my job to keep track of my constituents and how they’re doing and what they’re doing as the sheriff of Monroe County.
But Ialwaysknow every damn little thing about Fiona Marcus. Such a fancy name for a perfectly unique woman. Her black hair is pulled back in a ponytail and although I can’t see her pretty amethyst eyes, I know exactly what they look like. How they have little flecks of deep blue amongst the unique amethyst color. How they crinkle a little bit at the corners when she thinks about something that she’s not sure about.
I’ve seen that look a lot lately and I had a feeling there was more to it than she said when I questioned her at the diner. But since her Dad came up behind us and interrupted, I knew he was part of the problem.
Fred Marcus is just this shy of a criminal. At least as far as our small town knows.
He dabbles in so many gray areas that I can’t imagine he’s not as crooked as a dog’s hind leg. I know it, we all know it. But I’ve never been able to find enough evidence and then there was Fee. I didn’t want to do anything to hurt her.
But something’s off and I think it has to do with her dad.
Grimacing, I watch the back door of the diner. Watch as she takes out the trash and then shuffles inside, her steps cautious and slow, pained.
My eyes sharpen and I drink in my little angel’s curvy figure like she’s the last shot for the night for the rest of my life.
Her arm comes up and she cradles her right arm in her left arm. I know she’s right-handed but for some reason I didn’t really notice that she handed out plates with her left hand tonight. But I saw her pained expression when she did it and that’s got me wondering what the hell happened to her.
Slipping closer, I can finally hear what’s going on and my brain fucking buzzes like an angry bee when she hits the door and I hear him.
“Fiona! Get the hell in here and finish these dishes! What the hell do you think I pay you for?”
Gritting my teeth, I fight the urge to race in the door and slam that asshole into the wall, dad or not.
“I’m on my way.”
“Move faster! I swear you’re a waste of space,” he grumbles and I bite my tongue so hard I can taste the coppery tang of blood in my mouth.
She doesn’t reply and for some reason that strikes me as wrong. She’s usually so full of fire with me. Although she’s a little shy, her pretty eyes dance with laughter and something darker when she talks to me.
I’ve almost convinced myself that it’s the same thing that hides in my own gray eyes.
Lust. Desire. Love. All of it tangled around one tiny female who probably doesn’t know I exist.
At twenty-five she’s not too young but still…since I’m thirty-four, I should keep my desires in check when I’m around her. But it’s getting harder and harder to do.
I slip inside the door and hide behind the stockroom door to my right, waiting to see what’s going on. I can feel the tension in the air and it’s not just on my little Fee’s face.
I saw something in Fred’s eyes when he watched his daughter this afternoon that started this little stakeout. The way he eyed her body like it was part of a transaction, something he owned and could use. I saw it. Felt it in the tilt of his hard lips. The ice in his eyes.
He’s got plans and they don’t bode well for little Fee with the gorgeous eyes and luscious curves.
And that doesn’t sit right with me. She’s mine. I promised myself that I’d let her go but I just can’t. It’s eating me alive seeing those assholes in the diner hit on her, seeing the naked greed and dollar signs in her father’s eyes.
There’s a knock at the back door and my head whips around as I move my body slightly to keep my big frame hidden. Fred scurries quickly like the rat he is and opens the door to a guy that I unfortunately don’t know.
But I know the type. Douchecanoe that lives on the fringes of society and dwells in the darkness.
My inner antenna perks up and I move just a millimeter to keep them both in sight as well as my little Fee.
“Is she here?” That one sentence send my heart hammering out of control. I can feel it all the way into my throat which is so dry I can’t even swallow.
I only know one she that is currently here and that fucker better not be talking about her.
“She’s here. I sent her to do the dishes so we could finish hashing this out in privacy.”
