Miah (Lane Brothers #2) (5 page)

“Here you go.”

“Thanks. Uh, can I call someone?”

“Sure, but we’ll still need you to come down to the station, Miss Elms.”

Great. yet another night without sleep and the terrific fear that not only will I have to come back here later, but I’ll have to stay here till I can afford to move.

I decide against the call just before I hit the send button.

I can’t tell you what I would give to see Miah right now and to feel his strong arms wrapping around me.

I want it so badly that I have to squeeze my fists together and shove my phone into the pocket of my robe. No way am I calling any of the Lanes and asking them to help me. Jude would have me living at the Lane house so fast, my head would spin, and I won’t even start with the hell I’’ll have to endure once the man currently pursuing me finds out about this.

And here I thought I could control at least one area of my life without wanting to run to a man to fix it.

“Miss Elms? We’re going to need you to come with us while they dust for prints. Have you called anyone?”

“Er, no, I’m okay. Just give me a minute to get dressed and I’ll be right with you,” I mumble, walking to the closet on shaky legs. I’m dressed in under a minute and grabbing my bag to follow Officer Gonzalez out to the squad car soon after.

To say that giving a statement and having to relive that ordeal is hard is an understatement, and it hits me hard just how strong Ellie must be to have survived her kidnapping and still have turned out a relatively sane person.

I’m rattled and keep jumping at every sound I hear as if just waiting for the intruders to be standing behind me, ready to drag me off.

Officer Gonzalez sits me down at his desk with a cup of coffee and a blanket to ward of the chills still racing through me despite the heat. As I sip the warm liquid, I’m struck by a thought. Those men weren’t there to steal anything. They were there for me.

“Clara!”

              I look up from my daze to see a sleep-mussed and very pissed off Miah bearing down on me, along with what turns out to be the entire Lane clan.

I’m so disgustingly glad to see them all that I burst into tears the minute he pulls me up and into his arms.

“Clari, babe, why didn’t you call?” he growls, clutching me closer with arms that feel like vice clamps. “Goddammit, woman, you should have called me.”

“I’m sorry. I just…” I cry a little harder because I know exactly how pathetic I must look clinging to a man I don’t really know like a vine monkey.

“Oh hush you, Jeremiah Lane. Can’t you see the poor girl is still in shock? Come on over here to Mama, Clari dear. That’s it, honey, you go ahead and cry all you want.”

Jude keeps crooning to me after Miah lets me go with a curse. Her arms are so strong and gentle as she cradles me that I eventually find the will to stop bawling like some swooning damsel and pull back to dry my eyes.

“Sorry. I’m okay now.”

“Well of course you’re not okay, silly. You had some animals climbing into your window intent on doing God knows what,” Ellie snarls, looking for all the world as if she could happily strangle those men with her bare hands right now.

The Lane men are all scowling and circling us as if they wouldn’t trust anyone in this place to protect a fly, but I don’t even take the time to think on that as Miah takes my hand again and starts pulling me along behind him, the rest following at a good clip.

“I’m taking you home so you can get some sleep. No, Clari, do not argue right now. I’m pissed enough has it is. Jace, go tell Gonzalez I’ll catch him later. Ma, stop that shit right now, okay? I’m not letting go of her again anytime soon.”

The words are meant for me more than anyone else, I realize this when I look up to see his fierce expression. I think Miah intends to have me ensconced in that monstrosity of a house of theirs and I can honestly say that after the ordeal I just suffered, I’m not about to complain.

Miah

“What the fuck are you saying, Gonzalez?” I snarl into the phone, my teeth grit so tightly that it feels like they’ll shatter any minute.

“Whoever did this was good, man. We lifted a lot of prints, but the crime scene techs aren’t very confident about it. There weren’t any prints on the window frames, which we know was the point of entry from Miss Elms’s statement.”

“Fine.”

I slam the phone down with a snarl and turn to Roman, Jace, and Jared where they’re still sitting and waiting for me to calm down. Honestly, at this point, I don’t think I could calm down if someone sedated me.

The only thing stopping me from tearing into something right now is the fact that Clari is upstairs in my bed and sleeping after Ma forced a sleeping pill on her and tucked her in for the night.

“Christ, man, you got any idea how lucky you are that she woke up and heard them quick enough to have time to hide? I read that statement, bro, and from what she said, it’s definite that those assholes were there for her.”

Tell me something that isn’t already swimming around in my brain.

“I want them. I want to know why they were there, who hired them, and what the hell they planned to do with her.”

“Miah, man, calm down and take a deep breath, bro. She’s safe, for now, and asleep in your bed just where you wanted her, man. Not bad for one night’s worth of effort, if you ask me,” Jace quips, losing his smirk when all I do is glare at his immature ass.

What he’s saying is true and it doesn’t escape me how good I feel knowing that she’s exactly where I want her to be. But I hate having this happen now.

I wanted to take her out on a date and romance her a little before bringing out the big guns. It would also have been nice to have the chance to see if she would relent and accept the date I had planned or if she’d force me to bring Ma into this.

All the lightheartedness I had anticipated is dead and fucking buried now that this has happened, and I will never know if Clari would have chosen me or if I’ll get her in the end because of her fear.

Not that I’ll let her go home now anyway, not with the thought of some asshole coming after her, but it would have been nice to do the whole song and dance before things got serious.

“We need to look into all this shit and find out what’s what, so stop making jokes, funny man, and get with it. The way I see it is there are three angles to look at. It could have been one of the cops in my unit, a Lane or a Conrad, or that bum fuck ex of hers who, according to Ellie, is still sniffing around and wants her back.”

Right now, they’d all better pray that it’s the ex who needs to die, because if it ain’t, and I discover that one of my own, cop or blood, is after my girl, I’ll use every skill I learned in the military to make them suffer a cruel and unusual death.

“I’ll look at the family angle since I’ve been watching them, anyway. Jace, you take the asshole ex, and Roman and Miah can look at the cop angle since it’ll be easier for them to ferret out information.”

Easier how? I’m not entirely sure that I’m capable of being unbiased or rational around those men if I’m carrying the suspicion around that one of them is involved in what happened tonight.

“You saw that window seat? I’ll be damned if I know how that poor girl fit in that little box,” Jace says, shaking his head in disgust.

All I can do is nod when the rage threatens to overwhelm me again. I know exactly how she fit in there, and it’s not helping me to realize that she shoved herself in that hole out of sheer desperation and pure terror.

I’ve also listened to the 9-1-1 call and just hearing her voice, the way she’d only just managed to choke out a whisper that was barely discernible, and the frightened tremor that made her words hard to decipher is enough to drive me nuts.

My girl, a woman who I’d left with a bemused smile on her face, had bent herself double and crawled into a box just big enough for a child to fit into because someone had invaded her home and her space and scared her to death.

They will pay, whoever was involved.

By the time we all head off to bed and I’m dragging ass up the staircase, I’m feeling a little better. For now, I focus on the tiny lump sleeping soundly beneath the bedcovers as I strip down to my boxers and crawl in behind her to take her in my arms.

She sighs and snuggles closer. If I can take nothing from any of this but the fact that my presence seems to calm her and make her feel safe, it’ll be enough for now.

With that in mind, I finally allow my eyes to close and just enjoy the warm weight of Clari in my arms. Tomorrow is soon enough to go hunting.

“Miah.”

“Shh, sleep, babe. I’m right here.”

***

Clari

The first thing I feel upon waking is heat and a weight over my thighs that pins me to the bed. I can’t move a muscle, but who the heck cares, I think, stretching languidly with a smile and a satisfied groan for the rested feeling I have for the first time in a long while.

I’m not usually a heavy sleeper, but after that horse tranquilizer Jude shoved down my throat and the feel of strong arms wrapping around me at some point in the night, I’ve had at least a full eight hours of peaceful rest.

My eyes finally pop open and I see Miah staring down at me with an indecipherable expression on his handsome face.

“Talk to me, little bird.”

I know exactly what he wants to talk about and why he’s not too impressed with me right now. I can’t tell you that I’m impressed with me right now, either. Bu for different reasons, obviously.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Let’s start with why you decided not to call anyone after you were almost attacked in your bed,” he says and I realize my mistake immediately.

Miah is not one of those guys who just shows anger and blusters all over the place. He’s one of those reasonable men who simmer beneath the surface and wait for an explanation.

That’s worse because it makes me aware that my answer is super important and likely to send him into a fit of rage that I really do not want to see.

“I wanted to call you, and I was going to, I swear.”

“But…”

“But then I started thinking about how I just started living by myself and, that I should be able to handle myself better than calling someone at the first signs of trouble, and I kind of convinced myself that I was strong enough to do it alone without having a meltdown,” I confess, feeling terrible for that not being true.

Miah sighs and closes his eyes for a second as if searching for patience before looking at me intently.

“Tell me what happened. From beginning to end after I left you last night.”

What? That’s it? No shouting or name-calling or accusations? Just…this?

“Well, after you left I just sort of stood around for a while before going to my room?”

“Clari, are you asking me what you did, babe? Seriously, wake up and tell me,” he growls, pushing himself up to the headboard and reaching for a smoke.

“Gross.”

“It’s not to smoke, it’s just a habit from way back when. Talk.”

A deep breath doesn’t go far in settling my nerves, because as soon as I have to think about it, all I want to do is crawl out of my skin. See, this is me being me, and it turns out I’m not a cool, super ninja at all.

Guess I’ll have to revise my resume.

“I had a quick bath and got changed for bed,” I say, shrugging. “I went to sleep pretty easily, considering your parting shot, I think. I don’t know, Miah, I just went…went to sleep and woke up knowing that someone was outside. When I heard the…”

This is the part where I want to hyperventilate, because it feels like I’m still there in my bed, alone and cognisant of the fact that I’m about to be harmed.

“Shh, breathe, Clari,” he croons, pulling me over and onto his chest. “It’s okay, babe. You’re here with me and nothing can hurt you. Just remember that and tell me everything that happened after.”

His slow, measured breathing and the sound of his steady heartbeat have the desired effect, and I’m feeling more centered.

“I heard the window, but you know, part of me didn’t really think it was the window at all, like I wanted it not to be true. Anyway, it’s when I heard that damn figurine fall that I knew. Someone was coming in.”

“I knew that last window I looked at was beyond saving. Shit,” he snarls.

“Well, I mean part of me is glad it happened that way and they didn’t come through the door, because I wouldn’t have heard a thing otherwise. When I realized I was in trouble I grabbed my phone and started looking for a place to hide. The window seat was the only viable option, and believe me, after hearing one of them go for all the places I originally wanted to hide in, I’m just grateful I managed to get myself into that box.”

“What else?”

He sounds to calm and I wouldn’t know that he’s getting upset by his breathing or heartbeat or voice…but I somehow know that he’s angry.

              “I called 9-1-1 and stayed where I was, barley breathing, though I swear, Miah, how they didn’t hear my heart racing is a freaking miracle. The first one stopped right beside the window and I almost peed my pants right there. I heard him say, ‘She’s not here,’ and then another guy I hadn’t known was there was saying how I had to be because my sheets were still warm and the bathtub still had some water drops in it. He would have found me if the police hadn’t arrived so quickly.”

That’s the weird part and the reason that I can’t wrap my head around things. The police got there really quickly.

“How did the cops get there so fast? Not that I’m complaining, but I live a little ways out for that kind of response.”

He shrugs and I feel his lips on my hair.

“Gonzalez drives by your place whenever he’s pulling nights. It’s a favor to me.”

“Well, that’s not weird.”

My sarcastic grumble gets me a tap to the behind before he jostles me with his shoulder.

“I want you to think now, Clari, really hard. Did you hear the second man at all before he spoke?”

“I don’t have to think about that, Miah. I know I didn’t. The first guy was kind of loud, though I don’t think I’d have heard him without the noise from the window, but I heard his footfalls real clear after, and I knew when he made his way from the living room to my door. The other guy wasn’t…he was silent. I didn’t even hear him walk up beside the first guy. Why?”

“Just wanted to get a feel for things, babe, that’s all.”

He’s lying. I don’t know how I know it, but I know. I’m too exhausted to dig deeper right now, so I stay silent and look around.

His bedroom is huge and I feel my face heat at the knowledge that my house was no bigger than this place from start to finish. And that’s without counting the en-suite bathroom or the closet I spy to the left.

Miah is rich. I knew it before but actually being here and getting a look at his space is different. This view of his closet so perfectly organized and full enough of designer wear tells me that he’s got his own money, not just family money, and I am so out of my league, it’s laughable.

“What? What’s wrong?” he demands, and I realize I’ve tensed and made a mewling noise.

I don’t want him to be out of my league.

“Nothing. Uh, just…I should get up and go home. I need to get ready for work,” I mumble, rolling to the edge of the bed with a groan.

I pause before getting to my feet and close my eyes in horror when I get a look at what I’m wearing. The same tank I didn’t want two intruders to see and a pair of panties I wouldn’t put in a rubbish heap. No, this specimen deserves burning straight up.

“Clari?”

“Er, I need to get up, but I’m not exactly presentable.”

“Woman, I undressed you after you passed out last night. I already know you sleep in a pair of old panties and a tank that should be illegal. Now stop messing around and go shower before I do something dumb like try to take you in that vulnerable state,” he growls.

I sit dead still for all of three seconds before I feel the bed move as if he’s lost patience.

My sprint to the bathroom is not graceful, and I hear him laughing all the way to the shower and halfway through my shampooing process.

I’m so glad to be here, safe and unharmed, that I don’t quite freak out when he comes into the shower a few minutes later and starts scrubbing himself.

My shriek is muffled when my tongue rolls down the back of my throat and I have to struggle to keep my eyeballs in their sockets.

Miah Lane is not just built like a model, the man has a crapload of tattoos covering the entire left side of his back and shoulder before dipping down his hip to his…holy mother of God.

Is that what a butt is supposed to look like? Because if it is, then Nick needs to start gyming, like, yesterday.

Don’t be a perv, Clara.

We get through it without incident, though I avoid looking at him just in case I do something horrifying, like lick him like a lollipop, or shame myself by becoming a beggar.

By the time I’m dry and my face has stopped trying to fry off from embarrassment, he’s thrown me a silky shirt and a pair of sweatpants that I have to roll a gazillion times just so they reach my ankles.