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Authors: Breanna Hayse

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BOOK: Protect and Correct
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“I told you that this particular discussion is off the table. Explain what you mean by indifferent?”

“I am living the dream of so many women around the world. I wake up to find myself in a new body with a decent face, offered a life far from the miserable one I had, and am stuck with a semi-attractive, albeit controlling guy who wants to whisk me away as his pretend wife and force me to spend his money decorating a house I have never seen,” she blurted out in a single breath. “What’s not to be excited about?”

“You don’t sound very excited.”

“I am glad to know that sarcasm is not lost on you, Detective Golde.”

“Mr. Doyle, your loving new husband, remember? Do you miss anything from your old life, Brooke?”

“Only the freedom of not being watched 24/7. Other than that, no. I don’t even miss my old name. Who came up with this one, by the way?”

“Me, of course. I had to find one that sounded good on my lips for when I need to scold you.”

“Haha, very funny. I do like it though. It is very… feminine. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. You do know that there are not that many people in your situation who have the opportunity to reinvent their lives. What do you want to do with this second chance once this mess is finally over?”

“Collin, listen… I don’t mean to be rude, but be serious. Someone tried to kill me after tearing my face from my body. He stole not just my past, but the future I could have made for myself. He raped me of my freedom. Do you honestly think I can find pleasure in knowing that this happened? I am terrified and angry. I don’t want to reinvent a new life. I want to hide in the one I knew and go back to pretend that things were different.”

“You don’t have to pretend anymore. Things are different. Nothing either of us can say or do will change that.”

“I just wish I had been given a choice,” Brooke released a bitter sigh.

“What would you have chosen? What would your dream life look like?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I really don’t want to talk at all.”

“Then don’t talk. You can just sit and listen. I was married for eleven years to my high school sweetheart. We had these great plans to fix up the house and start a family. She wanted me to take dance lessons, but I always had an excuse to do something else…” His voice dropped. “Anyway, we got into a huge fight when she said she wanted to go to a coffee shop and listen to this guy play guitar. I was not interested, and after several minutes of shouting back and forth, I told her that if it was so damn important, she could go by herself. The next thing I knew, there was a cop at my door. She had driven her car into a water-pocket and flew over the bank of the road…”

“I’m sorry, Collin,” Brooke whispered.

“I am telling you this because I learned something very important that day. Do not ever waste an opportunity because of your pride. The cost is much too high.”

A moment passed in silence before Brooke spoke up. “I have never been to Nebraska or even seen a corn field. Can we find another place where the imaginary me supposedly grew up?”

Collin reached over to squeeze her hand. “Certainly. Whatever makes you happy, pipsqueak.”

“Start by finding me another nickname.”

“Anything you say, munchkin.”

Brooke groaned in resignation.

Chapter Two

 

 

The rain poured down in heavy gray sheets as they continued to drive. Collin had coerced Brooke into making up a story about how they met and the factors involved in their deciding to move into the area. Brooke reluctantly found herself engaged by the jovial man’s chatter, while also managing to gain some information regarding the case.

“So these people had nothing in common? Were we just randomly chosen as targets?” she asked casually, sipping a Coke through a straw and feigning disinterest.

“The common factor we have found is that none of you have any known relatives or children, and that you had lived in Philadelphia at one point of your lives. Incidentally, you were the only married victim and coincidentally in a relationship that had little value to either of you,” Collin sighed. “This whole thing is perplexing to me.”

“No specific geographic location? Age group? Common interests? Sexual orientation?”

“None found thus far. Two of the victims, a man and woman, were gay. Another victim was African American. Two biracial, three had a college education, another was a high school dropout… and everyone worked different jobs. There were no common physical characteristics either.”

Brooke thought after a moment. “All of us once lived in Philadelphia, right? “

“Yeah. It is a big city and…”

“Were we all there at the same time? What brought us to the area?”

“I’m not certain…”

“Had any of them ever served on a jury? Or been involved on the same trial? I was with the Philly coroner’s office. Maybe this guy is someone they found guilty, and I served as an expert witness. I’ll bet if you pulled up the county records…”

Collin glanced at her with a frown. “I told you not to try to solve this, Brooke. Change the subject.”

“Did I just come up with something that the Great Mouse Detective didn’t think of?” Brooke grinned sardonically.

“That’s enough out of you. Are you hungry?”

“I bet you are a sore loser, aren’t you? Oh, don’t give me the ugly face. Save it for when I beat your ass playing poker.”

“Watch out, kiddo. You won’t like what ends up being sore if you keep this up.”

“Stop threatening my ass, will you? You’re not the boss of me.”

“That was a mature comeback,” Collin grumbled good-naturedly, pulling into a steakhouse parking lot. “Stay in the car until I come around.”

“I am not going to melt. I—”

“You are technically my wife now, and my responsibility. Do as you are told. Or else.”

Brooke wrinkled her nose, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. There was something about the man that made her want to rebel against everything he said. Just because! He opened the door for her and helped her out, guarding her as best as he could with the umbrella. Cold rainwater splashed around her boots as she stepped onto the black pavement, and she paused to glance at the dim lights reflecting off the wet surface.
There had been a parking lot. It had been wet and familiar, a place she had been before
. She froze in place with her eyes closed as she struggled to recall more detail.

Brooke startled as Collin’s warm arm rested on her shoulders. As he drew her close to his chest in protection from the angry storm and led her inside, Brooke struggled with the silent admission that she enjoyed being treated as though she had value. Although this show was nothing more than a theatrical display, his touch felt possessive, his strong fingers gripped firmly around her upper arm as he held her tucked against him. Brooke wanted to believe that they were at least becoming friends and that this embrace had an element of genuine care in it.

She sighed loudly, not meeting his eye as they slid into the dark booth in the corner of the dining room. The reminder that he was using her to catch a serial killer and had no use for her beyond that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Would you like something to drink?” Collin asked as he opened the wine list.

“I’m not much of a drinker. Maybe something sweet?”

“I know just the thing, Late Harvest Riesling for the lady, please. Coffee, for me. Leaded, if you don’t mind.”

“You’re not drinking?”

“Not when I drive. I want to get a few more hours down the road before we stop for the night.” He smiled, his dimples etched in both bronzed cheeks. “One of us has to be the responsible adult here.”

“That is frightening if you are making that claim for yourself,” Brooke retorted, burying her face in the menu.

Collin trained his eye on her. “Wanna tell me what crawled up your butt and died within the last ten minutes?” he asked, putting his menu down and removing her menu from her hands.

“What makes you say that? I am not done looking, so give that back to me.”

“Two things. One,” he watched as she downed the glass of wine in a single tip, “you won’t look at me in the eye. And two, your attitude sucks more than normal.”

“My attitude is no less sucky than usual. As for looking you in the eye,” she scowled, “maybe I just don’t want to ruin my appetite.”

“Enough with the insults, pipsqueak. I know something is bothering you. I make a living observing and studying human nature and noticing change. Out with it, or I will take you straight to the car and give you something to pout about. I am tired, and my patience level is at an all-time low.”

“You can stop flexing your man-muscles, Collin. I am not a child, and I will not be spoken to in that tone. It is demeaning.”

“If you stop behaving like a bratty little girl, then I won’t talk to you like one. Like it or not, you are stuck with me for however long this takes. Learn to like it, or we both will be miserable.”

“Fuck you,” Brooke said loudly, tossing her napkin on the table and standing.

“Sit down, Brooke. We are not done with this talk.”

“Give me the keys. I will wait in the car while you eat.”

“Like hell I will. Excuse me, miss?” He beckoned to the waitress. “Would you please hold our booth? My wife and I need to have a little talk outside.”

“Sir, I don’t think…”

“Here is fifty dollars.” He handed her the bills from his wallet. “That will cover our drinks, plus a huge tip if we don’t return. Brooke? Outside. Now.”

Brooke paled slightly at the change of tone in his voice. Gone was the carefree, playful companion. In his place was… well, she was not certain. She did know it was not something she particularly liked.

“I am not… let go of me, Collin!”

“No. We are not going to have this discussion in front of an audience,” Collin said, his hand wrapped firmly around her wrist as he pulled her behind him. The pounding sheets of rain were ignored as he dragged her bodily to the car and opened the back doors, shoving her inside.

Brooke trembled with anger as he piled in next to her and slammed the door shut. She jerked her wrist from his hold, rubbing it with her other hand as though his fingers had burned her. “You are insane! I am soaking wet and—”

“Let’s get one thing perfectly clear, Brooke Doyle,” Collin growled, cupping her chin and forcing her to look up into his face. “I will not put up with that kind of rudeness from anyone, not in private, and especially not in public. I have been more than patient with you and this horrendous disposition of yours because of your situation, but it will stop here and now. I have done nothing to provoke it, and I certainly do not deserve it. Have I made myself understood?”

“How dare you yell at me? You have no right, you son of a bitch!” Brooke shrieked into his face, tears cascading down her cheeks. “You should have just let me die, you mother fucker!”

Collin’s face took on an incredible calm as he glared back at her. Without warning, his hand found her wrist again as he yanked her roughly across his lap and reached his hand under the wet dress.

“Get your hands off of me, you prick!” Brooke screamed, slamming her fist into his calf. He paid no attention to her objection as he pulled up the material over her panty-clad bottom with his left hand, and then captured the hem of the skirt in his right.

“Ruse or not,” he skimmed the pale pink panties from her buttocks, ignoring the screams of angry protest and profanity, “I reiterate that I will not tolerate rude behavior, especially in public. Not only does it draw unwelcome attention, but it is also very disrespectful. I have done nothing to deserve that from you.”

Before Brooke could voice her opinion to being man-handled, his work-callused palm smacked loudly against her damp flesh. Her body stiffened in shock as the sharp burn penetrated her posterior.


Ow!
Let go of me! This is abuse, and I will not…
Owww
… stand… for it!
Owww!

“You will certainly not be sitting for it either, will you?” Collin asked, his hand clapping an uneven rhythm to the soft under curve of her sit-upon. “You might as well stop struggling, because I can go on all night.”

“Let me go!” Brooke demanded, unable to gain escape due to her restrictive surroundings. Her legs were caught in the well between the front and back seat, and her head and both arms were pressed against the floor. The thundering rain against the vehicle drowned out her loud screams from anyone daring enough to venture into the storm’s embrace.

“I will release you when I think you have learned a lesson in humility and gratitude, young lady.” The loud slap of his palm matched the clap of thunder. “This is how it will be from now on.” He spanked her harshly three more times, her howls of pain muffled by the seats. “I intend to be your best friend as well as your bodyguard, so you might as well get used to it.”

“Stoooop! Please!” Brooke bawled, finding his pant leg with one freed hand. “I’m sorrrrrry! Oh, God—I am so sorry! I’m scared!” The spanking ceased immediately upon her admission, with Collin resting his hand over her hot bottom. “I am so scared,” she sobbed uncontrollably. “I tried hard to pretend I was okay with all of this, but I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless and stupid and useless…”

“Shhh,” Collin rubbed her shaking back. “I know you’re frightened, baby. I know. Let me help you instead of you trying to shove me away. Please, let me take care of you.”

“I don’t want anyone to take care of me,” Brooke cried, starting to hiccup, “No one has ever taken care of me. I take care of myself.”

Collin sighed loudly and gently pulled her to sit next to him in the cramped seat. He pulled her against his chest and stroked her hair as she cried against his shoulder. “I can’t promise you that your new life will be perfect, but I will promise that I will do everything I can to help make it better than the old one. You are one special woman, Brooke. And that quality started from the inside. Look at me,” he said gently. His face was warmly illuminated by the street lamp outside the car. “I understand what you are experiencing more than you know. I have been through much of it as well.”

BOOK: Protect and Correct
7.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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