Witness (11 page)

Bailey’s father was tall, with silver hair and a lean physique. He was the epitome of what would be considered the perfect W.A.S.P. (White Anglo Saxon Protestant).

“Bailey,” he said.

Brock went on alert. Bailey did too. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Within seconds, two security guards stepped into the room and closed the door. Dallas pulled Macey behind him just as Brock did the same with Bailey.

“I want you people out of my house,” Mr. Harper ordered.

“Daddy!” Bailey snapped, and stepped out from behind Brock. “Why? What are you doing?”

“You didn’t know this man you’re dating and have decided to marry is a murderer, did you, Bailey? So like you to make an impulsive decision like this.”

She glanced at Brock and then at her father. “What are you talking about?”

“He killed a man two years ago.”

Yes, as an FBI agent, he’s probably killed more than one
, she thought.

“Daddy…”

“Either he leaves on his own, or he will be removed.”

“We’ll just go,” Bailey said.

“Not you, sweetheart,” her father said, and grabbed her arm.

Brock stepped forward, but the cocking sound of the gun stopped him.

“Don’t, Brock,” Bailey said. “Just go. Okay?”

“Bailey, I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can. But for now, it would be better that you leave.”

Brock didn’t miss the smug smile Bailey’s father had on his face as he ordered them to leave again.

“Bailey.”

“Just go, Brock. Okay? Go have a Fresca and relax.”

He nodded, shoved his way between the guards, and walked out of the house. Dallas and Bailey followed.

James stood by the car and opened the back door with a nod. “Mr. Harper has booked a hotel for you for the night. I will take you there.”

“Fuck,” Brock whispered. Jonathan Harper one, Brock zero.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

B
AILEY
W
OKE
W
ITH
a start, lying in her bed for a few minutes trying to get her bearings. She glanced at her cell phone screen, hoping she might have missed a call from Brock. She didn’t. He hadn’t called her in more than thirty-six hours. Hadn’t texted her. Hadn’t come to the house. Nothing. She thought he’d understood her code. Apparently, he hadn’t.

Bailey set her phone on the nightstand and sat up. Running her hands down her face, she stood and headed to her bathroom. She did her thing, washed her face, and as she was slid a brush through her hair she recalled her dream. She remembered waking in the middle of the night because she felt like she was being burned. Fire roared around her and she felt the heat, but had no way out. It had taken her several minutes to get back to sleep.

She gasped. “Burner. Crap.”

She rushed into her closet and to the boot she’d hidden her burner phone in. She powered up the phone and saw six missed calls and thirty-seven texts, when all of a sudden, she was turned and pressed up against the wall, a strong hand covering her mouth. She dropped the phone and glanced up at Brock, relaxing immediately.

“Don’t scream,” he ordered.

She nodded. Brock released her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m putting an end to this idiocy. You and I are gonna talk,” Brock snapped, and Bailey bit her lip. Damn, he looked good. If a little tired, and currently, very pissed off.

“Okay.”

The fight went out of him. “Okay?”

She nodded.

“Fuck, Bailey, why haven’t you returned my calls?”

“Because I’m a little slow on the uptake.”

“Come again?”

“I totally forgot about the burner. My dad didn’t let me out of his sight last night and I crashed when I finally went to bed.”

“Damn it, Bailey. I thought you believed him. I have called you every hour on the hour and came by early this morning, when your dad served me with a restraining order.”

“Take a breath, baby,” she ordered.

He frowned.

“I gave you the code word,” she said. “I thought you picked up on that.”

“I did. But then when you didn’t respond to my calls, I grew a little concerned.”

“Who’s spiraling now?”

He didn’t answer. Just pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Bailey wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes to gain better access. She broke the kiss, but stayed close to him. “Still need to talk?”

His eyes went dark and he took a step back. “You know me, Bailey. Do you really think I would murder someone and then try to cover it up?”

Bailey sighed. “Honey, I already figured out that my dad made a few things up, or at the very least, embellished.”

“A few?”

“Okay, more than a few,” she admitted. “Did you kill the guy?”

“Yes.”

“Was it self-defense?”

Brock nodded. “Yes.”

“What happened?”

He stroked her cheek, his eyes growing dark again. “I walked in on Macey being raped.”

Bailey gasped. “
What
?”

“I killed the man who was raping her.”

“Oh, my god, baby.” Bailey fell against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “What happened?”

“I don’t really want to have this conversation with you in your closet.”

She gave him a gentle squeeze. “Fair enough. But you’ll tell me at some point?”

“If you want to know, yes.”

“I want to know.”

He kissed her forehead. “It’s a promise.”

She led him out of the closet and back into her bedroom. “What now?”

“Your dad’s lying to you and I’m not sure why. It goes deeper than him thinking I’m not good enough for you. He’s been planning this for a while and we’re gonna sort that out. You just need to trust me.”

She leaned back. “I do trust you.”

He cupped her cheeks. “Now that we have that out of the way, kiss me.”

Bailey shifted so she was kneeling on the mattress, closer to his height. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward. He chuckled and lowered his lips to her neck, kissing her in the sensitive spot behind her ear.

“Sneak,” she whispered. “I want your mouth, mister.”

“Oh?” he whispered as he slid his hands down to cup her bottom.

“Now, Brock.”

“So bossy,” he said, and kissed her, slipping his hands under the lace of her panties, skin to skin. She moaned, breaking the kiss and dropping her head back.

A knock at her door had her scowling. “Bailey, honey, are you awake?” her mother called.

“Yes, Mom. Just a second.” She stroked Brock’s cheek. “Hide in the closet,” she whispered.

“I’m not hiding from your parents like an errant teenage boyfriend, Bailey,” he whispered back.

“Do you want to explain why you’re here, in my bedroom; despite the fact Dad has a restraining order against you?”

He frowned.

“Exactly,” she reiterated. “Get in the closet, Brock.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he grumbled.

She grinned. “A lotta bit.”

“Bailey?” her mother called again. “Why is your door locked?”

“Go,” she ordered and shoved him toward her closet.”

Brock pressed his lips into a thin line, but did as she requested.

“I love you…baby bird.” She grabbed the robe from the hook on the door on the closet and then shut him inside with a smile…a smug one, but still, a smile. She heard his low chuckle as she made her way to her bedroom door. “Hi, Mom.”

“Why did you lock your door, honey?” she said, and walked into the room.

“Habit, I guess,” she improvised, and forced a smile. “Ali and I always made sure we locked the apartment.”

“Well, it’s good you stayed safe in Washington.”

“Did you need me?” Bailey asked.

“Josiah called. He’s taking you to the club for lunch.”

“What? No. Absolutely not.”

“Sweetheart, you need to get this murderous man out of your mind and what better way to do that than to have lunch with someone more suited to you?”

“Mom. Josiah Warren is not a nice man.”

“He’s from one of the best families on the East Coast. Of course, he’s a nice man.” She smiled. “And it’s the only way you’re leaving this house.”

“Mom. I don’t like Josiah on any level.”

“You need a distraction from that boy who is clearly a bad influence on you.”

Bailey crossed her arms.“First, Brock isn’t a boy. He’s a man who I’m in love with—”

“Who murdered a man,” she interrupted.

Bailey took a deep breath. “That’s what Daddy said. I’m not entirely sure we have all the information, though.”

“Bailey Amelia Harper, we did not raise you to be so naïve.”

Well, yeah, you kind of did.

Bailey sighed. “Fine, Mom. I’ll go.” She heard a bang from her closet and grimaced.

“What was that?”

“I bet it was my bag,” she said, quickly and peeked inside her closet. Brock stood, his hands fisted at his sides, his face red as he gritted his jaw. She smiled and mouthed,
I love you
, before closing the door again. “Yep. My bag tipped. It’s fine, Mom.”

“Do you want me to help you find something to wear?”

“Mom, I’m almost twenty-two years old. I’ve been dressing myself for a while now.”

Her mother narrowed her eyes, but then gave her a nod. “I’ll approve it when you’re ready.”

“Okay, Mom. I appreciate it.” She guided her mother back to her door. “I’ll just get in the shower now, okay?”

“Look sweet, Bailey.”

“Of course, Mom.” She smiled and closed the door behind her mother, locking it again.

Brock pushed out of the closet a scowl on his face. “You are not going to lunch with that parasite, Bailey,” he whispered.

“I know I’m not.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m going to pack up a few things that I can’t live without and my incredibly hot and intelligent fiancé is going to figure out how to get said things out of my house, while I pretend to go to the club. I’m going to insist that my parents come with me, so that the house will be relatively empty. It’s Betsy’s day off and Daddy’s goons will go wherever he goes.” She slid her hands up his chest. “Then that same hot and incredibly intelligent fiancé is going to do what he came here to do, and once that is done, he’s going to whisk me out of the club and take me somewhere private and fuck me…hard.”

Brock’s eyes grew dark. “Don’t like it.”

“You don’t want to fuck me hard?” she asked in all innocence.

“Babe.”

She kissed his neck and slipped the buttons on his jeans. “Yes, honey?”

“I don’t like this plan.”

She shrugged. “Don’t care. It’s the best way and it means we can be done with this.”

“Bailey,” he warned.

She slid her hand under the waistband to cup him, stroking as she went. “Yes, baby?” He hissed air through his teeth and Bailey smiled. “I have to take a shower. Join me?”

“Your parents won’t walk in?”

“No. They won’t. We’ll lock the door, turn on the radio, and have a little fun. Okay?”

He nodded, his eyes dark and hooded with desire. She kissed him and then led him into the bathroom, hitting the power button on her radio as she passed it. Turning on the shower, she faced him and watched as he pulled off his shirt and jeans. He was already hard and she licked her lips in anticipation. He dug his wallet out of his jeans pocket and pulled out two condoms, grinning as he set them in the shower.

“Two?” she mused.

“Absolutely.”

 She clapped quietly and then yanked her cami from her body, slipping her panties off simultaneously. Brock grasped her around the waist and pulled them close. “Eager?”

“It’s been almost two days,” she complained.

“Well, I better take care of you then.”

He guided her into the large glass box, pointing the shower head slightly away from them, and kneeling on front of her, leaning into the apex of her thighs. She gasped as his tongue lapped at her and she slid her hands into his hair.

“Spread your legs, baby,” he directed.

She did as he asked and he slid two fingers inside of her as he tongued and sucked her clit. “So wet, baby.”

She whimpered. “Brock. I can’t wait.”

“Don’t wait, baby.”

She allowed her body to release and cried out as quietly as she could as the orgasm overtook her.

Brock stood, sitting on the bench at the back of the shower and grabbing a condom. “Sit, baby.”

She straddled his hips, facing him, and lowered her body…slowly, sighing as he filled her.

“You have the greediest pussy.”

“Your fault,” she rasped.

He gripped her ass, guiding her up and down, before cupping her breasts and rolling her nipples between his fingers. He replaced one hand with his mouth and nipped gently, causing her body to spasm. “Too hard?”

“God, no. Harder.”

He smiled as he bit down on her nipple again, using his free hand to slide between her legs.

“Brock,” she panted.

“Faster, baby.”

She obliged, using his shoulders for leverage and when she knew she was close, she took his mouth and kissed him hard, her scream muffled in the kiss as she exploded around him.

Brock thrust into her once more and then wrapped his arms around her and held her, their bodies still connected.

“It just gets better,” she said, kissing his neck.

“For me too.”

She grinned. “Once more and then we’ll get clean?”

He held up the other condom packet. “So beautifully predictable, baby.”

She giggled and kissed him again.