“Did you call the cops?” He whacks a hand across my face. “You fucking bitch.” He climbs off of me, rising to his feet and poking his head behind the curtain.
I roll over on the floor gasping for air, holding my throat and squeeze my body back under the bed again.
“Where do you keep your money?” He drags me back out from under the bed with my hair.
My scalp burns, and I let out a garbled scream.
“Where’s your money bitch?”
“I don’t have any on me.” My voice is hoarse and sore from where he held my throat hostage.
The sirens get closer. He leaves the room with me wedged half under the bed, and I let out a shaky breath, my body vibrating against my bedroom floor.
Voices sound from downstairs and outside.
I slide out from the bed and sit next to my bedside table, curling into a ball. I should go down and talk to the police, butI can’t seem to move. If I wasn’t on a live with my man, who apparently has access to my security system, things could have turned out very different tonight.
Outside my room the police do a sweep. “Bathroom clear.”
An officer steps into the bedroom. “Victim in front bedroom,” she says through her radio. “Are you hurt, miss?”
I shake my head, still unable to move, clutching the phone in my hand, hoping he’ll call me back or show up. I need him right now.
The female officer helps me to my feet, but my eyes move to the next officer who steps into the room wearing a stab proof police vest. “Shane?”
He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
I let go of the woman’s hand and rush into Shane’s arms.
He wraps himself around me. “You’re safe. You’re all right.” His hand smoothes down my hair.
“Where did you come from?” the female officer says.
I pull back to look him in the eyes, but don’t let go of his arm. He’s everything I need right now.
His gaze doesn’t leave mine as he says, “I heard the call on the radio.”
My fingers grip the black polyester material on his long sleeved top. He’s not wearing his usual white shirt under his police vest. It’s like we both know the truth, but neither one of us wants to speak of it. If one of us were to out the secret, then our relationship would be over.
It all makes sense now why he wouldn’t tell me his true identity. He knows as well as I do that we can’t be together. My heart breaks all over again, just as it was cracking when I was on the live. He knows I’d have to choose between him or my sister.
Fern isn’t as forgiving as me. She cut ties with our brother. I’m sure she’d have no problem doing the same with me. There’san eleven year age gap between us. Growing up, I was more of a burden than a sister.
“I’ll take care of her,” Shane says as he swipes the mussed hair from my face. With the rough pad of his thumb, he caresses away the tears from my cheeks and presses his lips against my forehead.
He doesn’t know I’m not just crying about my ordeal, but for all the things that will never be between us. Inhaling the comforting scent of mint, tobacco, and all man, I relax in the familiarity of his strong arms.
“Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head, then remember the sting in my cheek and the roughness of my throat. With trembling fingers, I touch the left side of my face. “He held my neck and slapped me here. When he heard the sirens, he fled.”
Shane steadies my shaky hand, taking it in his, then presses his warm tender lips to my cheek, reminding me of the night he saw my rosacea for the first time. It makes sense now how my shadow conveyed so much love into one kiss, even though we’d only known each other a short time. He’s known me my whole life, and he’s been taking care of me for most of it.
“Come downstairs. The police will want to take a statement. Your kitchen’s a bit of a mess, but we need to leave it for forensics.”
“Will you stay with me?” I look up into his eyes, knowing the answer before he speaks.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
