Cuffed to the Bad Boy Cop: A Stepbrother Romance (16 page)

After the short burst of gunfire, he picked me up with one massively strong arm, snatched up my nightgown and placed his body between mine and the window. He carried me right over to the bathroom and shoved me inside. “Get dressed. Get your Aunt Vicki. Stay in her room. Keep the doors locked.” He kissed me hard. “Wait for me to come get you.”

Trembling with fear and adrenaline, I could barely manage a nod. I did exactly as he told me, slipping into my nightgown and going into Aunt Vicki’s room. She was already sitting straight up in bed, the bedside lamp on and her tired eyes wide with fear. She slapped at the table for her hearing aids. “Were those gunshots?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mindful of her bad hip, I helped her rise to a sitting position and grabbed the oversized cable knit cardigan at the end of her bed. I placed it around her shoulders and helped her ease her arms into it. “Gage said that we should stay back here and wait.”

“Well, honey, if that’s what he wants us to do, we better do it.” She patted my hand before leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. “And don’t you worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

My face burned with the heat of embarrassment.
She knows.
My stomach dropped. I hoped she didn’t know
everything
. Recovering quickly, I apologized. “I’m so sorry. Did we wake you up?”

“Arthritis woke me up.” She touched a gnarled hand to her hip. “But I would recognize
those
sounds anywhere.”

I didn’t have time to come up with a reply to that or her coy smile. A rapid knock at the bedroom door interrupted us. “Aunt Vicki? Meg? I’m coming inside.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as my mother hurried inside. She seemed unharmed as she gathered her robe around her waist and practically ran across the room to join us on the bed. Aunt Vicki winked at me, silently assuring me she would keep my secret, before hugging my mother. “It’s all right, dear. We’re perfectly safe in this house with two police officers taking care of us.”

I met my mother’s panicked gaze and said what we were all thinking. “They were here for me.”

“We don’t know that,” Mom insisted and grabbed my hand. Her fingers were shaking so bad I had to cover her hand with my own to steady her. “It could be anything.”

She needed to believe that right now so I let her, but I knew the truth. This was about me and my choice to testify in that case. This was a message—and I needed to take it very seriously.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Police car sirens echoed in our normally quiet neighborhood. The flashing lights of the patrol car cast blue and red strobes all around our front yard. Crime scene investigators arrived and began combing the grass and porch and the living room for evidence.

Eventually, Gage and Jack made their way upstairs, two uniformed police officers and a detective right behind them. I wanted to run to Gage. I wanted to feel his strong arms holding me tight. I wanted him to tell me that everything was going to be all right and that he would keep me safe. But I didn’t move. I stayed right there between Mom and Aunt Vicki. I answered questions and tried to be helpful.

Had I noticed anyone following us into town?

Had I had any strange phone calls or texts?

Had I received any threats via email or on social media?

Who knew I was coming to town?

Was I planning to stay long?

“I’m taking her back to Houston as soon as the sun is up,” Gage interjected, his voice firm and unyielding. “She’s not safe here.”

Mom started to protest, but Jack put a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I think that’s for the best,” he said. “Megan left Dallas for a reason. It’s probably a good idea that we not tempt fate again. Not until we get this situation under control.”

I didn’t miss the look that father and son shared. The Cruz men weren’t about to let this attack go unanswered. They had something planned, something that would put an end to this forever.
Please,
I thought anxiously.
Please don’t get hurt.

Outwardly, Gage looked calm and collected as he stood to the side of the room and listened to the detective talk to his father and my mother, but I knew better. Inside he was seething with fury. He was enraged that someone had dared to shoot up this house. He looked like he was ready to kill.

For me.
He would kill to keep me safe.

Not long after sunrise, I was hugging Mom and Aunt Vicki as Gage tossed our suitcases into the cargo area of his Tahoe. The concealed pistol he carried when traveling was on his hip today, right out in the open and easily accessed. I suspected there were other weapons hidden away under his jeans, probably at his ankle, and another gun or two in the glove box and console. He wasn’t taking any chances.

“Let us know when you get back to Houston,” Mom insisted as she hugged the breath right out of my lungs.

“I will.” I rubbed her back and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“Do whatever Gage tells you, Megan.” Her imploring gaze bore right into me. Did she know? Or was she guessing? “He’ll keep you safe.”

“I know he will.” I hugged her one last time. “I’m so sorry about the windows and your Hummels.” A couple of stray bullets had torn right through her curio cabinet and destroyed a shelf of her little porcelain M.I. Hummel figurines. I had taken pictures of each one of them so I could hunt them down and find replacements for Christmas.

“They’re just tchotchkes. They’re easily replaced.” This time, she embraced me hard enough I was sure she was going to break one of my ribs. “You’re not.” She kissed my cheek. “Okay. You better go. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I backed away and smiled at Aunt Vicki before walking toward the Tahoe. As I neared the passenger door, I overheard Jack talking to Gage at the rear of the SUV.

“I’ll set up a meeting with my cousin. We’ll get this shit sorted out. You need to stay calm and be careful. Don’t do anything hotheaded to protect your girl.”

“How did—?”

Jack laughed, the sound sharp but amused. “You think I’m blind,
mi’jo
? I can see what’s happening right in front of me.” He paused. “Do you?”

I couldn’t hear Gage’s reply. The cargo door was slammed shut and then Gage was striding toward me, opening my door and helping me into the passenger seat. He gave my leg a squeeze before closing the door. I waved at my family—
our
family—as we backed out of the long driveway.

When we reached the stop sign at the end of the street, Gage reached across the console and took my hand. He didn’t have to say anything. That one touch—and the soft and tender look cast my way—said everything. All my questions and all my worries could wait.

Right now, with him, I was safe.

We were in this together—and nothing else mattered.

Chapter Eleven

Upon our return to Houston, we only spoke about the shooting twice. Once, that first night back in his—
our
—house, we talked out the whole thing, from the moment we heard the first shots to the moment we left Dallas. We went over every detail and every possibility. I had even worked up the courage to ask him about the cousin his father mentioned. Gage had been vague but had admitted that his father’s family had ties to a dangerous outlaw motorcycle club. I had sensed it wasn’t a subject he wanted to dwell on so I hadn’t asked anything else about that connection or their plans.

The second time had been four nights later when I had woken up from a horrible nightmare. Earlier that day, the lead detective on the case had called to tell me that there were no leads on the case, and he wasn’t optimistic about finding the culprits. The news had rattled me so badly. A nightmare had been the expected outcome after an evening of anxiously peering out the windows while wondering if my hometown troubles were going to follow me to Houston.

Thankfully, Gage had been home that night, on-call but off shift. His own experiences with bad dreams and anxiety after his time at war had prepared him to help him. He had known exactly what I had needed to hear and what I had needed to help me feel better and grounded in reality. He had been so good to me. Holding me, talking softly to me, reassuring me and then loving me until all those terrible memories had been washed away and replaced with only the beautiful memories we were making.

Now, almost two weeks later, I pulled into the driveway after a long day of taking exams. I checked my rearview mirror, but I wasn’t panicked or anxious. I felt safe here and refused to spend the rest of my life glancing over my shoulder and jumping at shadows.

Exhausted from a hard round of finals, I locked the front door behind me, dropped my backpack and handbag on the bench in the entryway and trudged upstairs. Gage wouldn't be home for a while. He had taken extra overtime shifts while I had concentrated on preparing for finals. Even though he wasn’t home much, he had made sure that I had healthy lunches and dinners waiting in the refrigerator or oven for me every day. He was such a good man, and I loved the way he showed me how much I mattered to him by doing those small things.

Up in Gage's room, I stripped out of my clothes and hopped into the shower. It was chilly outside and the house was a little cool so I kicked up the hot water until it was nice and steamy. Eyes closed, I leaned my forehead against the tile and let the water rush over my tense neck and shoulders. It had been a long semester, and I was glad it was finally over.

I tried not to think about the upcoming holidays. Mom and Jack had stunned us both by informing us they were planning on taking a four-week cruise starting a few days before Christmas. Empty nest syndrome wasn’t treating Mom very well, and after all the added stress that had come along with my testimony in the case and then the shooting at Thanksgiving, I wanted her to get away and enjoy herself. She and Jack deserved to cut loose and have fun.

After learning about Mom and Jack’s plans, I had assumed that I would decorate the house and arrange a small but intimate Christmas with Gage. That assumption had been blown to hell when I had remembered that Gage took a hunting trip with his Delta buddies every December. It was the reason he never came to the house in Dallas for the holidays.

This year, they had decided they were going during Christmas week. The week was clearly marked on his calendar in the kitchen. My plans for our first holiday together as a couple had been torpedoed, but I wasn’t going to whine or ask him to stay with me. He was a grown man who deserved time with his friends, and I was a big girl who could survive a week without her man.

But I would be a liar if I said it didn’t hurt to think I would be all alone for the holidays. Gage and I had grown so exceptionally close. Neither of us had dared to utter the L-word but we had come precariously close to it. Deep down inside, I knew he loved me just as I'm sure he knew I loved him. What had started as something illicit and forbidden had quickly morphed into something much more complex and real.

Feeling anxious, I finished my shower and slipped into the robe I kept in Gage's bathroom. When I stepped into the bedroom, I took one look at the darkened interior and nearly tripped over my feet. I spotted Gage sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands folded in his lap as he waited patiently for me to finish my shower.

He looked good—damn good. He still wore that black and gray SWAT uniform and those heavy black boots. He exuded badass sexiness, and it made my knees weak. I let my hungry gaze roam from the top of his shaved head to the tip of those mean-looking boots. God, I just wanted to fall at his feet and worship every inch of his ridiculously sexy body.

My gaze flicked around the bedroom. He had pulled the drapes and turned on some music. I noticed the lengths of rope, the toys and the gleaming silver clamps sitting atop the comforter. Apparently, we were going to play.

I lifted my gaze to his face. Gage stared right back at me. He didn't have to say anything. I could see that this was my choice. We could play or not. He wouldn't hold it against me if I pleaded exhaustion and turned in early.

But I didn't want to turn in early or spend the evening on the couch watching television. I wanted Gage. I wanted him on top of me, under me, behind me and inside me. I wanted the pain and the pleasure he offered.

Wordlessly, I slipped out of the bathrobe and let it puddle around my feet. I took two steps toward him and smoothly knelt on the floor. I rested my palms on my thighs but didn't try to contort myself into any kind of extremely uncomfortable position. Gage wasn't into the high protocol that some Doms required. In here, he simply wanted my submission and the use of Sir as his title.

"Crawl to the chest and pick out a flogger, Meg."

I gulped at his order but didn't hesitate to comply. I leaned forward and crawled to the chest at the foot of the bed. I lifted the lid on the chest and stared at the top tray that held some of the spanking implements like paddles and floggers. The canes were in a storage box under the bed. I was so glad he hadn't asked me to pull those out this time. I was slowly learning to accept the sharp bite of a cane but there was little enjoyment in it for me.

I had the feeling Gage had decided the canes were outside of my hard boundaries and wouldn't be bringing them out very often, if ever. Though he liked to push my limits and help me grow, Gage was the very best master and took care of me. My well-being came before his enjoyment and pleasure—always.