Kicking the Habit (11 page)

“Detective
Jackson, if that’s you, I’m reporting you to the Feds. Stalking me is taking
nun-sitting a bit far, don’t you think?”

No
answer.

Cece
whirled around, a sinking feeling settling into the pit of her stomach as her
gaze darted everywhere and saw nothing but woods now. She’d long since passed
all the businesses on Main Street and the side roads, and she was nearly to the
end, where Granny’s house was located. So close to safety, yet it felt so very
far away. Of course, the cell phone Candy had insisted she buy was back in her
purse as well. Cece might have told Mumfry she was prepared to die, but now
that imminent danger was upon her, she wasn’t prepared for anything. She still
had so much she wanted to accomplish. So much to live for. So much to tell Ace.
…

She
so did
not
want to die!

Cece
started to jog, her heart hammering in her throat. She could actually see
Granny’s house in the distance. The detective’s truck was parked in the
driveway, like she knew it would be. Relief shot through her. If she made it,
she would never complain again about the detective becoming her shadow. She
opened her mouth, preparing to shout, when something hard hit her in the back
of her head.

She
stumbled forward and nearly fell to the ground, but she caught her balance at
the last second. Fighting off the blackness trying to consume her, she blinked
the stars out of her eyes as a wave of nausea swept over her. Something slammed
into her and yanked her hair hard. She managed to turn around, but strong
gloved hands wrapped around her neck, cutting off her air supply. She clawed at
the hands as she looked up at a masked face. The person was dressed head to toe
in black. There was no way to tell who it was.

No
matter how frantically Cece clawed at the hands, she couldn’t pull them off her
neck. They squeezed harder, pushing her to the ground in the process. The cold
seeped into her back as she struggled, but the person sat on top of her,
cutting off her air even further. The evil, life-consuming blackness began to
win, and tears of regret trickled out of her eyes, rolling fatefully down her
cheeks. She could feel that the end was near, and as she started to black out,
the image of her dream man’s face appeared in her mind’s eye.

Ace
…
she thought as the world around her faded to black.

Ace paced Hester Monroe’s kitchen
relentlessly. Finally, he stopped and slapped his hands on the Formica
tabletop. “Your sister is late. I don’t like it.”

“Relax, Detective,” Candy replied,
setting the table. “She’ll be here. She promised, and Cece doesn’t lie. You of
all people should know that.”

“She might not outright lie, but she
sure has a way of dancing around the truth and pretty much outwitting all of
us.”

“She is resourceful, I’ll give you
that.” Candy paused with a proud smile on her face, but then she pointed a fork
at him and continued, “She’s also still really angry with you.” Candy went back
to setting the rest of the table and then stirred the spicy chili simmering on
the stove … right next to Granny’s latest brew of a curse meant for him. She
was upstairs fetching her spell book as they spoke.

“I compromised. I got rid of my
partner for a few hours, and I gave Cece some space like you said, but you
never told me she was walking here,” he growled, barely able to hold back his
anger and frustration. Scrubbing a hand over his flattop, he continued to pace.
“If she’s not here in five minutes, I’m going to get her, no matter how angry
it might make her.”

After
Candy had dropped her sister off, she’d shown up at her grandmother’s and
stopped her crazy Granny from trying to kill both him and Rocco. She’d surprised
Ace, who had been all over town with Rocco, searching for Candy and Cece after
church but apparently just missing them each time. Her grandmother’s house was
the last place he’d stopped, and Candy had finally shown up alone. Ace had
found out Cece was by herself at her clinic. He’d started to head over there, but
then Candy had reminded him how angry Cece was.

He
admitted he’d strong-armed Cece a bit after church because that damn kiss had
messed with his head. Still did. No matter what she said, she was still a nun
in his eyes, and kissing her was just
wrong
.
Yet it had felt too damn
right
, and
that pissed him off. He needed distance, and he figured if she was mad at him,
then he’d have a better chance of achieving that. Because if she stared up at
him one more time with those big, beautiful, brown doe eyes, there’s no telling
what he’d do to her next time.

Against
his better judgment, Candy had convinced him to back off a bit and give her
sister a few hours of peace. It was broad daylight, and she was at her clinic.
Candy had promised him that her sister had the sense to use the new locks he’d
installed, and he’d assumed she would call for a ride when she was ready. However,
Candy had just informed him Cece had been planning on walking here when she was
finished at her clinic. The crazy fool didn’t have a sensible bone in her
petite body. It was dark out. A killer was still on the loose. And someone kept
taking potshots at her.

“I
hate to admit it,” Candy broke through his thoughts, “but I think you might be
right.”

Ace
stopped walking and locked gazes with her. What he saw made his blood run cold:
doubt, worry, and fear. “Something’s wrong,” he said, and a second later, he
shot out the front door, the screen door slamming shut behind him.

He
was about to jump in his truck when he heard a noise not far away. He looked in
that direction, and his stomach dropped, his heart slamming into his throat.
“Stop, police!” he screamed, drawing his gun and pointing it at the dark figure
dragging a limp body toward the woods. They were too far away to make out who
the body belonged to, but his gut told him he already knew. He might not be a
religious man, but he prayed to God he wasn’t too late.

The
dark figure dropped the limp body and bolted into the woods. Ace sheathed his
weapon, whipped out his cell phone, and broke into a sprint as he called the
attack in along the way. He shoved the phone in his pocket as he reached the
body. His hands shook as he dropped to his knees, instinctively knowing the
attacker was long gone. He hovered over her, close to her face but afraid to
move her until the paramedics arrived.

“Cece,
baby, can you hear me?” he asked, trying not to let his emotions show through
the tone of his voice. He had to stay strong so he could help her.

She
didn’t stir.

He
gently lifted her long, glorious hair off her face, smoothing his fingertips
over her dirty, tear-stained cheek and had to fight back tears of his own. He
let his fingertips trail down to her throat and held his breath as he felt for
a pulse. He closed his eyes, and intense relief swept over him. She was alive.
Her pulse was actually strong and steady, but judging by the dark bruises
already forming on her neck, the attacker had obviously strangled her long
enough to get her to pass out. Then the person must have wanted to drag her
into the woods to finish the job.

Anger
replaced Ace’s sadness as he lifted his gaze to the dark woods. He would find
out who was responsible, and he would make that person pay if it was the last
thing he ever did. The thought of anyone preying on the weakness of others
instilled fury within him. It was one of the reason’s he’d become a cop to
begin with. The fact that this had happened to Cece made it that much worse.
His sole job was to keep her safe, and he’d failed miserably.

“Dammit!”
he said, dropping his chin to his chest and shaking his head.

“Honestly,
Detective, must you?” came a weak voice that was music to his ears.

“Cece?
Oh my God, Cece,” he said with a hitch in his voice, anger be damned. He
lowered his head close to hers and searched her face. She was alive, and that
was all that mattered to him right now. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He felt his eyes
well up.

“It’s
okay, Ace.” She lifted her hand to his face and cupped his cheek until he
looked her in the eye. “
I’m
okay.”

“Did
he …” He lifted his head, letting his gaze trail down her body, assessing every
detail.

“No,”
she quickly reassured him, pulling him back down to her by holding onto the
lapels of his sport coat. “I’m a bit bruised, my head feels like an elephant
stepped on it, and my throat is sore, but I’ll live, thanks to you.” His gaze
met hers once more, and she surprised the hell out of him by softly kissing him
on the lips. “Thank you.”

He
cupped her face in his hands and, right or wrong, kissed her again, firmer this
time. Careful not to hurt her, he pulled away and said, “If anything had
happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself.”

“But
it didn’t.” She reached out and held his hand.

He
stared down at her tiny palm cradled in his much larger one. “But if I had done
my job, this wouldn’t have happened.”

She
squeezed gently. “Yes, it would because I was too stubborn to listen to reason.”

His
gaze met hers as the sirens grew louder and the paramedics arrived. “Does that
mean—”

“Yes,
Detective,” she said, and a bit of the spunk he’d never admit he adored entered
her stubborn eyes as she let go of his hand. “I’m still not going to tell you
what was said in the confessional, but I am ready to listen to you regarding my
safety.”

He
relaxed for the first time since seeing her so helpless and tried to keep the
grin tugging at the corners of his mouth from showing as he asked, “What
exactly does that mean, Sister?”

“Let’s
just call a truce of sorts,” she answered matter-of-factly. “You keep me safe,
and we work together on solving this case.”

He
didn’t like the idea of her being anywhere near this case, but he also didn’t
like the idea of her being out of his sight after what had just happened. “I
can live with that under one condition,” he finally said.

“What
exactly does that mean, Detective?” she mimicked his words.

“I’m
in charge. No arguments. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes
sir, boss.” She saluted him, but the satisfactory grin that spread across her
face as the paramedics carted her away told him loud and clear he wasn’t the one
in charge at all. She’d somehow gotten exactly what she wanted, and he’d just
been played.

“Let’s go,” Ace
said to Cece on Tuesday morning at 9:00 a.m.
the second she opened her door. He’d spoken a little more harshly than
he’d intended after her sweet honeysuckle scent had drifted to his nose,
hitting him square in the gut.

She
looked so little, with all five feet of her standing there in a black warm-up
suit. He smiled on the inside over the hot pink stripe running down the sides
of the suit, echoed in the pink painted on her nails. She still had a difficult
time dressing in color, no matter how hard her sister tried to modernize her,
but she did seem to love her pink nail polish. Ace adored that about her. His
smile vanished, however, when he took in the dark bruising along her neck and
on the side of her cheek, reminding him of just how frail and weak she really
was.

“Well, hello to you too, Detective.”
She sounded tired. “I just got home. Can’t I take one day to recuperate?”

“Hi, and no.” He stuck to his guns,
no matter how much he might want to give in, cradle her in his arms, and shut
out the world until the killer was caught.

He’d learned the hard way that he couldn’t
keep her safe all by himself, and her grandmother and sister had promised him
they’d never let him forget it. They hadn’t let him see her since the attack,
and it had killed him wondering if things would be different after their second
kiss. Goddamn, but that woman got under his skin something fierce! He’d tried
to chalk it up to emotions running high, nothing more, but that hadn’t been
working out so well for him. Had she blown the kiss off as well, or was it
getting to her too? It was hard to know exactly what she was feeling at times.

He studied her as he continued. “You had
Sunday night in the hospital and Monday at your grandmother’s. I don’t want you
home alone until you learn how to defend yourself.” He needed to know she would
be okay with or without him, because there was no way he would survive if he
had to go through another ordeal like that again.

“I agreed to let you be my bodyguard
and keep me safe, Detective.” She shot him a serious look, staring straight
into his eyes as she added, “Nothing more.”

Well, that answered that. It would
be business as usual between them, he thought in relief, yet a small part of
him felt off. They’d both agreed anything romantic between them wouldn’t be a
good idea, but dammit, that didn’t mean her response didn’t sting a little. He
reminded himself he couldn’t afford to dwell on that right now. Emotions were
the reason he’d let down his guard around her in the first place, and look what
had happened.

Disaster.

“I do, however, agree that learning
self-defense is a good idea for any woman, but don’t you think you’re
overreacting a bit on this sense of urgency?” she went on.

“The guy who attacked you wasn’t
some random mugger. He didn’t try to steal anything, and he could have killed
you immediately if he’d wanted to. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, he
would have succeeded at dragging you into the woods. Who the hell knows what he
would have done to you?” Ace shoved his hands into his pockets, taking a moment
before he continued. His gaze met hers, and he tried like hell to instill the
seriousness of the situation. “We can’t rule out that this incident wasn’t
related to the senator’s murder. Remember, there’s someone out there who is
going to great lengths to make sure you don’t talk. And since we both know that
isn’t likely to happen, you’re stuck with me. I’m in charge, remember?”

She blew out a breath, and he could
see the resignation in her big brown eyes. “Let me grab my bag.” She
disappeared for a moment and returned with a simple, practical sling bag. Opening
the empty bag, she slipped her house keys, lip balm, tissues, a basic cell
phone, and little else inside.

Always
efficient.

The words
waste not, want not
drifted through his head, and he fought back the
urge to smile once more; then he frowned hard. Why did she affect him so? She
brought out so many emotions in him: fear, anger, frustration, amusement, lust.
Lately, he’d caught himself monitoring his choice of words several times before
cursing. Then the other day, he’d even brought the rest of his dinner home in a
doggie bag and ate it for lunch the next afternoon. She was definitely rubbing
off on him. He just didn’t know how he felt and had no idea what to do about
it.

 She gave him a curious look. “Are you okay? Now
you’re the one who doesn’t look so well.”

“I’m
fine. Just a bit of indigestion. Must’ve eaten something that didn’t appeal to
me.” He spun around and led the way to his truck without another word, mentally
cursing every step of the way for good measure and, quite frankly, for peace of
mind.

Cece
seemed to sense his need for silence as she climbed up into his truck, buckled
her seatbelt, and stared out the window quietly.

Halfway to the gym, he finally spoke.
“You’re going to love Patty.”

This time it was Cece’s turn to
frown as she faced him. “Who’s Patty?” she finally asked.

“Patty Calabria. She’s a good friend
of mine. She’s a karate sensei, a personal trainer—a regular fitness guru,
basically. I met her years ago at the gym when I took a class from her. She
kicked my as—my butt. I couldn’t move for a week. Trust me when I say she’s the
perfect person to teach you self-defense.”

“She sounds a little intense,” Cece
said, wringing her hands in her lap.

“With all that’s happened, I’d say
you need a little intense right now. Besides, Patty’s a sweetheart.” From the
corner of his eye, he saw Cece’s head snap to the side as she gaped at him. He
could feel her troubled gaze hot on his face.
Nothing more, huh
? His lips twitched, and her words from earlier
suddenly didn’t sting as much.

“Oh, okay. Whatever you think,” was
all she said, looking back out the window.

They pulled up in front of the gym,
and Patty was just getting out of her car.

“Speak of the devil. There she is
right now.” He pointed to the petite dynamo dressed in her black and gold karate
Gi. Her hair was a mass of brown and blond curls nearly as long and impressive
as Cece’s. Patty scooped it up into a high ponytail before spotting them. A
wide smile blossomed across her heart-shaped face as she waved at them.

“Oh, wow,” Cece said on a breathy
voice. “She’s pretty.”

“She is a looker.” He grinned,
feeling much lighter than he had when he’d picked Cece up.

 He could easily put her mind at ease by cluing
her into the fact that Patty had been with her high school sweetheart David since
forever, and they had three beautiful daughters to show for it. But Ace
selfishly wanted to give his ego a little boost after Cece’s comment in the
church the other day about how they weren’t a good match. Not to mention the
fact that she seemed to brush off his kisses so easily. He knew she was right
about the
not a good match
thing, but
that hadn’t stopped him from feeling inadequate.

“She’s almost as small as I am.”
Cece studied the dynamo, wearing a doubtful expression on her face. “Don’t I
need someone a little tougher?”

Ace barked out a laugh.
“Honey, you won’t find anyone tougher than Patty. A big guy like me might be
stronger than either of you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be just as tough.
Protecting yourself isn’t about out-muscling your attacker. It’s about learning
where that person is vulnerable and knowing what to do about it. That’s why
Patty’s perfect.”

Cece watched her with a wistful
expression on her face as she said, “She sure is.”

He tweaked her nose, finally relenting.
“Her husband sure thinks so.”

 Cece peeked up at him with a surprised look on
her face, and he winked.

 “You will be too by the time she’s through
with you. Come on.” He stepped out of the truck, jogged around to her side, and
insisted on helping her down. Then he took her hand and pulled her along with
him.

Cece
followed reluctantly beside him, looking unsure all of a sudden. “Are you sure
about this?”

“Where’s
my spunky nun when I need her?” he asked, giving her hand a little squeeze,
before letting go.

“The spunk left when she took off
the habit,” Cece muttered, shoving her hands in her zip-up jacket.

“Not from what I’ve seen,” he snorted.
“Your spunk just got a little lost after some bully scared it away. I say it’s
time we found it and brought it home.”

“And I say be careful what you wish
for, Detective. You might not like the end result.”

Ace thought about that for a minute.
She might be right, but at this point, anything was better than seeing her
cower.

One hour later,
Cece stood beside the matt, feeling overwhelmed and nervous. They were in a
private room in the gym, full of mats and mirrors. Patty had gone over a bunch
of safety tips about how to be aware of your surroundings. And then she had
told Cece there were about eighty moves when it came to defending oneself, but
she’d chosen six moves she thought would be most effective for someone like Cece.
So Cece had spent the last half hour practicing them, but it was hard to keep
them all straight. She was terrified her mind would go blank the second someone
confronted her. Now Patty wanted her to
test
them. Cece had no idea what that meant, and good Lord in Heaven above, she was
terrified to find out.

“Um, what exactly do you mean by
testing them?” she asked with a hitch in her voice.

“Test them out on a fake attacker.
Let’s take Ace for instance.” Patty motioned him onto the matt and positioned
him in front of Cece so he was facing her. “He’s a big strong guy,” Patty said,
giving his huge bicep a squeeze, “but if you know what to do, you
can
fend him off.” She gave him a jab to
his ribs and he grunted, then chuckled and rubbed his side.

“If you say so,” Cece said, looking
up the impressive length of him doubtfully.

 He peeled off his hoodie and tossed it aside,
making her swallow hard. Her throat was so dry suddenly. He had on faded gray sweatpants
and an emerald green tank top, making the sea-foam green of his eyes pop. His
skin was still tanned from the end of summer, and his muscles were much bigger
than she realized when they weren’t covered by his usual sport coat. Add to
that his flattop hairstyle along with the Ranger tattoo on his shoulder, and
his intimidation factor went up tenfold.

 Cece unzipped her warm-up jacket and tossed it
to the edge of the mat with the detective’s sweatshirt, her skin much paler
than his, as she hadn’t had a suntan in years. His eyes flickered and his gaze
dropped lower, then quickly snapped back up to her face. Her V-neck T-shirt was
the same pink as the stripe on her warm-up pants, as well as the pink on her
nails and toes. Not having worn it in a very long time, it was a bit snugger
than she remembered. She tugged at the hem discreetly to no avail and then
curled her bare toes self-consciously. Patty had suggested she take her socks
off so she wouldn’t slip on the mat, but Cece somehow felt naked and
vulnerable. She bit her bottom lip, and Ace’s green gaze softened.

“Remember, it’s just me,” he said
gently, the familiar tone of his voice resonating deep inside and calming her. “I’m
not going to hurt you, but I don’t want you to worry about hurting me. I want
you to think of me as a real attacker and do everything you can to fight me
off. Besides, I’m wearing rib pads and a cup.” He knocked on his cup, and she
could feel the blood rush to her face and her ears burn hot. “See? It’s all
good.”

Oh,
my
. She took a shaky breath.
Good
Lord in Heaven
.

“Okay, Cece.” Patty smiled
reassuringly and patted her back. “You’ve got this. I want you to focus. Soften
him up whatever way you can, and then do the moves to escape. If you forget
something, remember that it’s better to do something than do nothing.
Always
fight back. Ready?”

Cece nodded, feeling anything but
ready.

Patty called out in a loud voice, “The
Wedge!”

One minute Ace was standing before Cece,
just staring at her intensely. That was scary enough, but then he reached out
lightning quick and wrapped his huge hands around her throat in a choking move.
Panic seized her, even though logic told her he wouldn’t hurt her, but that
didn’t stop her adrenaline from soaring. With heartbeat hammering in her chest,
she quickly assessed her situation.

 He was too tall for her to reach up and chop
her hands down at his elbows. Instead, she clasped her hands together, making
sure her fingers were not intertwined so it would be easier to get out of the
hold if he grabbed them. Straightening her arms, she formed a wedge shape and
swung up as hard as she could, which broke his hold on her neck. Then she swung
her clasped hands back down, grazing the front of his nose. She quickly pulled
them in and punched forward as hard as she could until she hit him square in
the chest. Surprised, he stumbled back a couple of steps.

Cece
blinked, her lips parting slightly. Did she really just do that?

Patty
didn’t give her time to rest. Instead, she called out the next attack.
“Hammering Buck!”

Cece
realized that in reality, if Ace were a real attacker, he wouldn’t just stop
after one move. He would keep coming at her until he got what he wanted. She
had to be ready for that, so she braced herself. He rushed forward and wrestled
her to the ground. Not a hard task given that his six-foot frame towered over
her five-foot one self. Next, he climbed on top of her, straddling her hips.
Once again, he wrapped those big deadly hands of his around her throat. She
felt even more vulnerable on the ground, with such a large attacker on top of
her.

 Flashbacks of Sunday night hit her square in
the gut, robbing her of coherent thought and air. Everything she’d felt that
night came rushing back to crush her: the feelings of fear and helplessness and
regret. She thought she might faint. Her mouth grew dry, and twinkling stars
began to dance before her eyes, but then she locked her gaze with Ace’s
sympathetic but firm one. Suddenly, she knew everything would be okay. Anger,
not for him but for all she had felt that night, rushed through her, giving her
strength.