Deathblow (32 page)

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Authors: Dana Marton

Tags: #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Deathblow
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“I can’t tape my own hands together. I’d need my hands for that!” he shouted, his face red with anger.

“Use your mouth, use your knees, do whatever it takes. Can’t you do anything?” She repeated back the question she’d heard a million times when they’d been together. “I’ll slow down when your hands are tied.”

He swore again but went for the duct tape. He used his right hand to wrap the tape around his left wrist, then his mouth to roll the tape around the right, looping his wrists together. “Happy?”

He had nothing to cut with, so the roll hung next to his hands as he dropped them onto his lap.

“Stay on your side of the car.” She eased the speed back to ninety. “I lost the baby,” she said. “After you knocked me down and kicked me.”

“You slipped. You’re not putting that on me.”

No, he’d probably never serve time for that. She’d been in a car accident just days before, and miscarriage wasn’t uncommon in early pregnancy even if everything went smoothly. Nobody could prove that Keith had caused her to lose the baby.

“It’s the last thing that you will ever, ever take from me,” she promised. And she was glad that her gun had been lost with Justin’s car seat, because this way she didn’t have to fight the temptation to use it.

She dropped the speed to eighty, but didn’t slow more than that until she reached the Oxford exit. She took the exit, turned right, pulled off the road.

Keith grabbed for her throat before she could come to a full stop next to a Salvation Army drop-off container.

She jabbed her elbow into his Adam’s apple, then his face with all her strength, feeling more than a little satisfaction at the crunch as his nose broke. He screamed in pain.

She screamed with fury, “Don’t you ever touch me again!”

Then she cut the engine, took out the keys with her right hand as she rolled her window down with the left.

“I got him!” she called out. “I’m coming out. He’s unarmed.”

She bolted from the van, leaving the door open.

Two dark shapes popped up from the bushes. She recognized Bing, his gun aimed at the van as he rushed forward in a crouch. Then Joe ran for her, grabbed her, and ducked with her behind the Salvation Army container.

He held her so tight, she could barely breathe. “What in hell are you doing?”

“I got him,” she said proudly as she wiggled to get some air. “There are two loaded guns on the side of Route 1, somewhere between Broslin and here. He threw mine out of the car, and I made him throw out his.”

He stared at her. “We’ll find them.”

The captain was shouting somewhere by the road. “Okay. We got him! We got him!”

So Joe kissed her hard on the lips, then let her go at last and stepped forward, calling back two words, “Stay here.”

She followed him. And she was glad she did when she saw the expression on his face when Chase pulled Keith from the car, all tied up and unarmed. Harper rushed from the other side of the road to help.

Bing drew up an eyebrow as he shot Wendy an impressed look.

Joe moved forward to read Keith his rights.

But Keith lurched toward her. “I’m going to kill you, bitch!”

Joe paused long enough to deliver a right hook to his chin, sending Keith up and flying in the air before he crashed down on his back in a move that Wendy had only seen on TV and didn’t think was actually possible.

She stared as Chase dragged Keith to his feet while Joe kept on with the rights as a cruiser shot down the road, lights flashing but no sirens. Mike pulled over so Joe and Chase could put Keith in the backseat.

She stood where she was, her knees suddenly shaking. Bing came over to her and hugged her. “If you were a cop, I’d award you a commendation. You brought in a killer single-handed.” He pulled back, smiled. “But if it’s all the same to you, let’s tell Sophie the police saved the day. She’s going to kill me if she finds out I let that man within a hundred feet of you.”

She could almost smile back at him. Almost. Probably tomorrow. Right now, all she could do was not break out in tears of relief as she watched Mike and Harper drive away with Keith. “How long do you think they’ll put him away?”

“If I have anything to do with it, forever.”

Joe hurried back to her and caught the question too. “It’s over. He’s not going to hurt you ever again.” And the hard glint in his eyes said if Keith somehow ever managed to get out on parole, an unfortunate accident was going to happen to him on the way to the bus station.

Joe glanced at Bing, drawing up a dark eyebrow.

Bing nodded. “We’re done here. You two go home. Tell Sophie I’ll be home in an hour.”

Joe took Wendy’s hand. “Come on.” He could probably feel her shaking inside, because he added, “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I promise it’s not going to happen again.”

Funny thing was, when Joe said it, she believed him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

The station filled up by five p.m. on Jack Sullivan’s last day as a detective at Broslin PD. Leila let it be known that she’d be bringing in a cake. Everyone was there, whether they were on shift or not. Ashley came with her daughter, Wendy with her son, and Sophie. A dozen or so outsiders showed up too, people Jack had saved one way or another during his time with the Broslin PD.

“You can come back anytime you want. These doors will be always open for you.” The captain finished his impromptu speech, and Leila rolled the cake out. But before she could cut in as people clapped, the captain held up a hand. “I have a few more announcements to make.”

Everyone quieted.

“I would like to take this time to announce the promotion of Officer Joe Kessler to detective.” He grinned at Joe. “Congratulations, Detective.”

Joe stood there, stunned. “Thank you, Captain.”

Then Wendy was giving him a hug, and everyone came over to shake his hand, the captain in the lead.

When that commotion settled down, the captain raised a hand to regain the attention of the room. “Also, on the good-news side.” A smile split his face nearly in two. “My little brother, Hunter, is coming home from Afghanistan. His third tour of duty is finished.”

The cheer that rose filled the station. Hunter was a great guy. There wasn’t anybody present who didn’t say a prayer for him on a daily basis.

When that excitement abated at last, and Leila picked up the knife to turn to the cake once again, the captain said, “Not yet.”

Bing took Sophie’s hand and tugged her into the middle of the station. And then, as she watched with a puzzled expression on her face, the captain slowly went down to one knee. He pulled a red velvet box from his pocket.

The silence was absolute. Even the phones didn’t dare ring.

“Sophie Curtis. I don’t know why God brought you into my life. Lord knows, I don’t deserve you. This place is my second home. These people are my family. The station is part of my life. If you take me on, this is what you’ll be taking on.” He gave a quick smile. “Fair warning. I mean, take a good look at these goofballs.”

Sophie smiled, but her lips were trembling.

“So I’m asking you right here. Do you think you could put up with the phone calls in the middle of the night and with all my bad habits, and marry me?”

She didn’t look like she could speak, but she solved that problem by throwing herself into the captain’s arms. He caught her and held her steady as wild clapping broke out around them, the guys whistling.

Joe looked at Wendy. Ah hell. How on earth was a man supposed to top this?

He wanted her, forever and ever.

And the look on her face as she watched the happy couple in the middle gave him hope. Her eyes softened, longing stealing into her gaze.

Could she be convinced?

As Leila finally cut the cake, Joe tuned out everything else and began planning his own grand proposal.

“I’ll take Justin to the bathroom to change him,” Wendy said and walked off with the kid.

About two minutes passed before Joe figured out that this might be his best chance, while Wendy was all softened up, having just witnessed Sophie’s unconditional jump into marriage.

So he did what he thought was best and strode off to the bathroom after her.

The ladies’ room was empty save for the handicapped stall that also had the diaper-changing station inside.

He stopped outside the stall door. “Wendy?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Will you marry me?”

A long silence followed that made him sweat.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” He racked his brains for something smart to say, but he was so messed up, he couldn’t think of anything.

Another minute passed before the stall door opened, Wendy carrying Justin on her hip. “You are proposing to me in a police station bathroom? Where criminals go to pee?”

Okay. He hadn’t thought of it like that. He shifted on his feet, scrambling for a comeback.

She didn’t wait for him. “What happened to the suave ladies’ man who knows exactly what women want?”

“I don’t care what women want. I only care what you want,” he said miserably. “Love throws me off my game.” He filled his lungs. “I want to be a father to Justin. I’m not just saying that in case it helps. You know I love him.”

Her eyes went soft. And then she leaned forward to press her lips against his briefly.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a maybe. Yes to living together.” She walked by him as Justin blew raspberries behind her back.

Joe wiggled his eyebrows at the kid. “Seriously, partner? That’s all the help I get?” He strode after them.

“Living together at my place?” he asked Wendy. “It’d be better for me to be in Broslin. For the job. But I can go to Wilmington if you want. I don’t mind the commute.”

“At your place. Justin is pretty attached to Pirate Prince.”

Joe made a mental note to get the cat a gift basket of gourmet cat food. “It’s not like I’ll be taking control. I swear. We can put your name on every room.”

“You can have the kitchen and the laundry room,” she offered magnanimously.

“What, not the bedroom?” But he was grinning from ear to ear.

She stopped until he caught up with her, then whispered into his ear, “I decided I like it on top.” She pulled back and winked at him.

And the grin slid off his face, all his blood rushing to his groin. “We don’t have to stay here long. It’s Justin’s dinnertime anyway. I’m thinking we should probably leave.”

“You don’t want Leila’s cake?”

He shot her a look that told her exactly what he wanted.

* * *

The look Joe had shot her at the police station told Wendy exactly what he wanted. But he didn’t get it until much later. First they had to feed Justin his dinner, then play with him, then his bath, then the bedtime story. Then Justin read the book back to them. Then they all had to sing and bleat like sheep.

The second Wendy stepped out of the guest bedroom, Joe pulled her into his own bedroom down the hall. The king-size bed ruled the room, the place sparse, definitely not a den of seduction. Then again, Amber had said he never brought women here.

Except Wendy.

He wasn’t the same guy she’d first met, but then again, she wasn’t the same woman either. They’d been a terrible fit back then, but now….

There were no guarantees in life, but she knew what she wanted: Detective Joe Kessler.

“I love you too,” she told him, and the smoldering look in his eyes made her wonder why she’d waited so long. “I love that you could just look at Justin and love him. No hesitation. That you insisted on being there for me even when you thought the baby wasn’t yours. I love that you make me laugh. I love that you never try to make me into something I’m not. I love it that you’re Broslin’s favorite son. Even if I sometimes think it’s gone to your head.” She smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please continue with your list.”

She bit back a laugh, then turned serious. “I love it that you can make my knees go weak with a touch.”

He brushed his lips over hers. “Like that?”

And she felt an immediate jolt. Oh no, she wasn’t going to let him take control as easily as that. “I distinctly remember someone saying that I’m the boss of the bedroom. Take off your clothes.”

“All right, then.” He grinned that sexy grin of his that made him a town legend. He peeled off his clothes, slowly, holding her gaze the whole time, making a good show of it.

He was strong enough not to have to be in charge all the time. She added that to the long list of things that she loved about him.

He stopped when he was down to his black boxer shorts, hooked his thumb into the waistband, and shot her a questioning look.

“All of it.”

He obliged, his enormous erection springing free. “Will there be some leather involved in this at some point, Madam Dominatrix?”

“Maybe.” She liked the flare of heat in his gaze. She was in control, and she liked it.

She stepped closer, walked around him, caressing his shoulders, his back, her hands slipping down to his firm buttocks, his muscles tightening under her fingers.

Then she walked to face him and brushed his nipples deliberately. His erection grew even bigger, although she wouldn’t have thought that was possible.

“Will you be taking your clothes off?” he inquired, his voice holding tension as her fingers danced down his abdomen.

“When I’m ready.” She touched her index finger to his tip where a clear drop of liquid beaded.

He jerked against her hand.

She ran her fingers up and down his length. “You’ll do anything I say?”

“Anything,” he promised in a husky voice, heat pouring off him.

The feel of his silky skin made her nipples tighten. Moisture gathered between her legs.

His tender lovemaking the other night had been perfect, but now she wanted more—the kind of reckless passion women who’d never been hurt by their men were capable of having.

She closed her fingers around him and looked him in the eye. “I don’t want slow and sweet.”

“Then tell me what you want.”

And she did, brazenly, explicitly, his gaze darkening with her every word.

He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and saw to it that her every wish was fulfilled.

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