Safe from Harm (11 page)

Gabe yawned and stretched, then got to his feet and grabbed one of his crutches, intending to make his way to his bedroom and collapse onto the bed when his doorbell rang.

He frowned and glanced at his watch again. It was just past seven o'clock. Who the hell would be dropping by at this time of morning?

Gabe grabbed his gun from the desk, where he'd set it the night before, and tucked it into the waistband of his pants at the small of his back before heading to his front door. He carefully peered through the peephole and let out a relieved sigh. He quickly disengaged his alarm and unlocked the door.

“Tom?” he said, surprised to find his brother standing on his doorstep. “What are you doing here?”

Tom gestured with the cardboard drink carrier he had in his hand. “Brought you coffee. Thought you might need it.”

“Uh, yeah,” Gabe said. “Thanks. I didn't sleep much last night.”

Tom grunted. “Figured as much.”

Gabe stepped aside. “Come on in. Have you had any breakfast?”

“Nah,” Tom said, heading for the kitchen. “I'll make you something. What'll it be? Cocoa Puffs or Froot Loops?”

Gabe chuckled. “I see your culinary skills haven't improved since we were kids.”

Tom gave him a hint of a grin, which was about all anyone got out of the guy these days. “Yeah, well, I never claimed to be a god in the kitchen.”

“So many comebacks, so little time, Bro,” Gabe said, shaking his head. “I'm going to take pity on your sorry ass because you brought me coffee and let that one go unanswered.”

Tom sent a wry glance over his shoulder as he grabbed cereal bowls from the cabinet. “You
must
be tired. You've never missed the chance to be a smart-ass.”

Gabe eased down into a chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. “I was reading through Jeb Monroe's blog. That guy scares the shit out of me, I don't mind admitting.”

“You and me both.” Tom set a bowl in front of Gabe and took the seat across from him.

Elle's seat
.

Gabe pushed that thought away as soon as it occurred. One dinner didn't mean anything. She'd needed someone to talk to. That was all it was—and probably a little pity thrown in for good measure.

He forced his thoughts back to his brother, who was wolfing down his cereal like a man on a mission. Tom wasn't especially communicative anyway, but he was particularly closed off that morning.

“How you holdin' up?” Gabe asked.

This brought Tom's head up. “I'm fine. Why?”

“You killed a man,” Gabe said. “That's not something you just shrug off, Tom.”

Tom swallowed slowly, then took a gulp of his coffee before he finally managed to meet Gabe's gaze. “I'm dealing.”

“I don't think I ever said thank you for saving my ass,” Gabe said.

Tom shrugged and managed another half grin. “I've been saving your ass for thirty-six years. Just add this one to the grand total. Now, eat your cereal, loser. I have to get to work.”

Gabe lifted his spoon in mock salute, then scooped a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, sending a covert glance Tom's way as he ate. If the dark circles under his brother's eyes were any indication, he hadn't slept much better than Gabe.

Of course, he had a feeling Tom's sleeplessness had started before the shooting of Mark Monroe. But he wasn't going to bring up the subject of Tom's deceased wife. His brother would come to him if he wanted to talk. That's the way it'd always been. But that didn't mean he couldn't be there for him when it came to the shooting.

“Mark Monroe knew what he was doing when he showed up at the courthouse,” Gabe said around a mouthful of cereal. “You know that, right?”

Tom nodded. “Yeah.”

“And you know if you hadn't taken him down, he could've killed who knows how many innocent people,” Gabe continued.

Tom finished off his cereal and got to his feet to take his bowl to the sink. “That's not the part that gives me nightmares, Gabe.” He braced his arms on the counter, his head hanging between his shoulders for a moment before he straightened and ran a hand over his dark hair in frustration. “You know, it never used to worry me that we were all in law enforcement. I mean, we've heard the lectures since we were kids about carrying on the Dawson legacy, making our family proud, protecting and serving the community. But after what happened…”

Gabe stared at his brother for a moment, taking in what he'd said. “We all knew what this job could cost us,” he said. “The Old Man lost our uncle to a hopped-up junkie in a routine traffic stop. And Carly…” His words trailed off at the heartbreaking look Tom sent his way. “My point is, it could happen to any of us.”

“But knowing that and watching it play out are two different things,” Tom said. “Seeing that fucker take aim at you…” Tom paused and shook his head. “In my nightmares I didn't stop him in time, Gabe.”

Gabe's stomach sank as the full extent of what his brother was going through hit him. “Shit, Bro. I'm sorry. I had no idea.”

Tom shook his head. “It's not you. I gotta deal with this. It's not like you, Joe, and Kyle are gonna give up your careers. At least you'll be a desk jockey for a while when you get back, so—”

“What?” Gabe interrupted. “You're parking me?”

“Isa said—”

“Isa?” Gabe asked, cutting him off. “Who the fuck is Isa?”

“Dr. Isabel Morales,” Tom explained. “Your surgeon. She said you'd be on medical leave for a couple weeks and would then need to take it easy for a while until your leg is healed.”

“It's a flesh wound, Tom,” Gabe shot back. “It's not even as bad as what Joe had to deal with when he was wounded in Afghanistan, for shit's sake!”

Tom crossed his arms, giving Gabe the look he always did when pulling rank—not just as the eldest Dawson brother, but as Gabe's boss in the sheriff's department as their father's executive deputy. “It's not up for discussion, Gabriel.”

Gabe shoved his cereal bowl away from him, sloshing some of the remaining milk onto the tabletop. “You sound more and more like the Old Man every day,” he muttered. “Since when do you call me
Gabriel
?”

“I already talked it over with Dad,” Tom informed him, grabbing a paper towel from the roll and wiping up the milk. “You're taking a break, Gabe. It's not a punishment. It's for your own good.”

Gabe scoffed. “Bullshit. It's for
your
own good, Tommy.”

Tom heaved a frustrated sigh and clenched his jaw, the muscle in his cheek ticking from the strain. “Maybe. But I'm not going to let you get yourself killed. And I know that if I put you back on the road, the first thing you'd do is go after Monroe.”

“Got news for you, Bro,” Gabe said. “I'm going after Monroe regardless of whether I'm on the road or stuck behind a desk. He left me a present last night—a hanged man in a noose. If that's not an invitation to go kick his ass, then I don't know what is.”

Tom's expression barely altered, but Gabe could see he was startled by the news. “You should've called me when you found it.”

“Why?” Gabe asked. “So you could come racing over here to hover around like a mother hen? I figured it could wait until morning. There's nothing you could've done last night that I didn't already do unless you want to canvas the neighborhood to see if anyone saw anything. I wasn't quite up to pounding the pavement.”

“I could've filed a report so we could have the incident on record,” Tom snapped.

Gabe sighed. “Well, I'm telling you now. But there're no prints on anything, of course—already checked for that. Nothing tying Monroe to the damned thing. There never is.”

Tom scrubbed a hand down his face, looking even more haggard than when he'd first arrived. “Shit.”

Gabe grunted. “Tell me about it.”

“Why's he targeting you, though?” Tom asked.

Gabe shrugged. “Maybe I'm just up first because Mark didn't finish me off? Or maybe it's because I was the one who arrested Derrick after Chris's murder.”

Tom frowned. “Yeah, but I was the one who killed Mark. You'd think he'd be coming after me.”

“Who says he's not?” Gabe replied.

“I'll give Kyle a call,” Tom told him, “see if we can get some additional surveillance going from the FBI. Unless Monroe gives us something to bring him in on, there's not much else I can do.”

Gabe leaned back in his chair and spread his hands. “Exactly why I didn't call you.”

Tom regarded him for a long moment then finally said, “If you turn up anything, you'll tell me? You won't go off half-cocked?”

Gabe raised his right hand. “My hand to God—if I go anywhere, I'm taking my whole cock.”

“I'm serious, Gabe.”

“So am I!” he shot back.

Tom laughed and snatched an orange from the counter, lobbing it at his brother.

Gabe dodged it easily and chuckled, “Nice throw, dickhead.”

“Piss off,” Tom laughed. “I'm taking it easy on you while you're recovering.”

“Uh-huh,” Gabe teased. “Sure.”

“Oh, you wanna be a tough guy?” Tom darted forward, putting Gabe in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles on the top of Gabe's head. Tom released him abruptly and stumbled back with a laugh when Gabe punched him in the gut.

Gabe jabbed a finger at his brother. “You're lucky I can't kick your ass right now.”

Tom shook his head, grinning. “Yeah, yeah. You can owe me one, Billy Badass.” His phone chimed, drawing his attention. He checked it quickly and shoved it back into the case at his hip. “Gotta go. Duty calls.”

“Everything okay?” Gabe asked.

“Same shit, different day,” Tom assured him. “Call me if you need anything—or if you get any other presents from Monroe.”

Gabe gave him a mocking salute. “Yes, sir.”

“I mean it,” Tom called over his shoulder as he headed out of the kitchen. “Don't be stupid.”

Gabe sighed, then muttered, “Wouldn't dream of it.”

Elle was early.

She'd talked to Gabe nearly every day during the week since their dinner at his house, just a few minutes here and there to check in on him, see if he'd had any other problems with Monroe she might be able to work with. But it'd been quiet. For him anyway.

Even though she'd promised to keep him apprised of any uneasiness she'd felt, she wasn't about to tell him about every single paranoid moment she'd experienced. She was certain someone was following her. She could feel his gaze on her when she was loading groceries into her trunk. When she left the fitness center. When she left the office and was walking to her car…

But she'd only seen someone once. And that could've been just a coincidence. After all, Fairfield County wasn't exactly a bustling metropolis. Mostly comprised of farmland and factories with the occasional cluster of houses in a suburban neighborhood, the towns in Fairfield County epitomized small-town Midwest life. The fact that she'd seen Jeremy Monroe sitting in a corner booth sipping a cup of coffee while she was at lunch with her coworkers was hardly surprising. And really not even worth mentioning to Gabe.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself. Because otherwise she was going to go crazy.

And yet, she couldn't quite shake the feeling, even now as she made her way to Gabe's house to go over some of the information he'd been gathering, that someone was trailing her. She'd checked her rearview mirror too many times to count, had tried to keep track of all the vehicles that were behind her between her house and Gabe's. But there were none that stood out.

Still, with paranoia adding to her eagerness to see Gabe—purely for the sake of information gathering, of course—she'd broken pretty much every traffic law possible. Lovely. Great idea for the deputy prosecutor to get caught in a serious traffic violation. That'd go over
really
well with her boss…

She sighed with relief when she turned into Gabe's driveway and practically sprinted to the front door, glancing over her shoulder as she waited for him to answer her knock. Her stomach began to twist into knots as the seconds dragged on, her uneasiness building. She knocked again, louder this time, glancing around again.

Come on, come on, come on…

Her heart began to pound, the blood flooding her ears. The birds chirping nearby suddenly sounded distorted, surreal. The sunlight was overly bright, blinding. Her chest heaved, her breath coming in gasps as fear surged in her veins.

He should've answered the door by now. Something was wrong. She knew it. Something was terribly wrong.

She punched the doorbell a couple of times then pounded on the door with her fist, trying the knob with her free hand. “Gabe! Answer the door! Gabe!”

She was bringing her fist up to pound on the door again when it suddenly swung open. Gabe stood in the doorway leaning on a walking cane, shirtless and barefoot, his jeans apparently hastily pulled on because they weren't yet buttoned. “Hey, I didn't—”

Without thinking, Elle threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank God,” she whispered. “I was so worried when you didn't answer the door.”

His arm came around her, holding her close. “I'm fine,” he assured her. “I was just getting out of the shower when I heard you pounding on the door. Took me a minute to get here.”

Her hold on him eased a little as humiliation overrode her fear, and she pulled back, one arm still around his neck. She closed her eyes on a relieved sigh. But when she realized her other hand was resting lightly on his bare chest, her eyes snapped back open.

“Oh jeez,” she said in a rush, pushing back to put some distance between her and one of the most amazing sets of pecs she'd seen in a seriously long time. But his arm around her waist tightened just enough to keep her from backing away.

“Hang on a sec,” he said, his brows drawn together in a concerned frown as he searched her face. “What's really going on? This isn't just about me. Your heart is pounding like a rabbit's.”

She swallowed hard, not about to tell him that, at least at that moment, her pounding heart had nothing to do with her fear and everything to do with the fact that her body was pressed against his.

“I thought someone was following me,” she admitted. “I didn't see anyone—just felt like I was being watched. And then when you didn't answer the door…”

He released her and took hold of her hand, leading her into his office, where music was playing on the stereo. He grabbed a remote from the desk and adjusted the volume. “Sorry,” he said. “Guess I forgot to turn it off before I got in the shower.”

Is that Ray LaMontagne? Huh.
Somehow she'd pegged him more as a country music kind of guy.

He hadn't been kidding about being an enigma. As she was quickly discovering, there were many things about Gabe she hadn't expected…

He gestured to the laptop on his desk. “Which one of the Monroes do you think it is?”

She brought her focus back to the investigation and narrowed her eyes, realizing he had photos of Jeb Monroe and his various family members and acquaintances open on the screen. “Where did you get these?”

“Kyle's pals at the FBI,” he told her. “They're helping with some surveillance. I got these last night.”

She pointed to a photo of a man she recognized. “He's one I've seen around a couple of times.”

He blew out a harsh sigh. “That's Jeremy Monroe, one of Jeb's sons.”

She pointed to another photo. “He's
definitely
the one who was following me the day after the shooting.”

Gabe's brows lifted. “The one who slashed your tire?”

“I can't prove it,” she admitted. “But it's a little too coincidental, don't you think?”

He sat down on the corner of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge in a way that was most distracting. “How long?”

She dragged her gaze up to his eyes. “How long what?”

“How long have you been having this feeling?” he pressed. “You haven't mentioned anything when we've talked.”

She felt warmth flooding her cheeks. “I didn't want to worry you just because I was being paranoid.”

He gently took her hand and pulled her closer, until she was standing between his thighs. “I want you to tell me everything, especially when it's something that causes you to have a panic attack on my front porch.”

She tried to avert her gaze, but he tenderly grasped her chin and forced her to look at him.

“Elle, you are the strongest woman I know. Nothing is going to change my opinion of you in that regard.”

Elle's breath caught in her chest when he looked at her with such intense admiration. She'd noticed it before, had seen the respect in his eyes. But she hadn't realized until that moment how much it meant to her. He was right. One of the reasons she hadn't said anything was because she didn't want him to think any less of her. Why that mattered was a mystery. But it did.

“Okay,” she said softly.

His thumb smoothed lightly over her jaw and his aqua gaze grew more intense. Just when she thought he might lean in and kiss her, he said softly, “I want you to come to me.”

She shook her head, clearing the fog of desire that'd been building there, swamping her reason. “Sorry?”

“If you even suspect anything else is going on,” he explained.

“Oh!” she said, laughing a little at her own presumptiveness. “I thought—” She bit off her words before it was too late to take them back. She'd honestly thought he was talking about wanting
her
to make the first move. She took a deep breath—and a step back.

He grinned, actually flushing a little, and glanced up at her through golden lashes, giving her a look that was completely devastating.

“Did you think…?” He cleared his throat and fought to hide a smile. “Did you think I was going to kiss you just then?”

“Oh, no,” she said, waving away his words. “No, of course not.”

He got to his feet, bringing him back to within a breath away from her. “Would it be so bad?” he asked softly, his gaze searching hers.

She blinked at him, trying to pretend she had no idea what he was talking about. “What?”

“Kissing me,” he murmured, the back of his finger caressing along the edge of her jaw, making her pulse trip over itself. “Would it be so horrible?”

Her hand came up to rest on his waist, and her lids drifted shut a moment.
Horrible?
Hell no. It would be sheer bliss—and something she'd craved ever since first tasting his lips. But she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing herself to get a grip on her libido. “It's not a kiss that worries me,” she told him, tired of denying what had happened between them and worrying about whether or not he remembered. She needed to get it off her chest. “It's what comes after—or, more accurately, what
doesn't
.”

His brows drew together in a frown. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Well, since he asked…

“It means you only want me because you can't have me, Dawson,” she said. “As soon as you get want you want, I wouldn't be any different from any of the other women you've had. You'll move right along to the next.”

He cringed a little at her words. “No wonder you think I'm an irredeemable jackass.” He laughed, the sound edged with bitterness, and shook his head, resuming his seat on the desk. “Don't worry about me trying to kiss you again. You've made it perfectly clear you wouldn't piss on me if I were on fire. I sure as shit can take a hint.”

She gave him a sad smile. “The thing is, Gabe, you
have
kissed me. You were just too smashed to remember it.”

His face went slack, his surprise impossible to disguise. “After Chris died,” he murmured. “That happened.”

“Yeah, it happened. And then…” She raised her arms out to the side. “Nothing.”

“I thought it was a dream,” he told her.

She laughed bitterly. “Oh, that's a good one. A dream? Nice try, Dawson.” Then she blew out a frustrated sigh and held up a hand, cutting off whatever response he was about to give. “You know what? I think I'll just go. Just email me whatever you have.”

“Elle—”

“I'll see you around, Gabe.”

“Elle!” Gabe called. “Would you hold on for one goddamn minute?”

When she turned back to face him, she was surprised to see him standing right behind her. Before she could say a word, he grasped her around the waist and jerked her toward him, claiming her lips in a harsh, savage kiss.

Elle stiffened, taken aback, but then his hand came up to cradle the nape of her neck and his lips grew gentle, tender, stroking hers. The desire she'd fought against blossomed in the center of her, its warmth spreading through her body, filling her, overtaking all logic and reason. She kissed him back, pulling his bottom lip into her mouth, scraping it gently with her teeth, drawing a low moan from him as his kiss deepened.

Her arms slipped around his waist, her fingers splayed along his muscled back, and she leaned into him, fully surrendering to the strength of his arms, the sultry caress of his lips against hers. As their kiss slowly drew to a close, she kept her eyes closed for a moment, taking the time to try to bring her breathing under control.

Gabe pressed a kiss to her cheekbone, her temple, near her ear. “Jesus, Elle,” he whispered, his breath feathering across her skin. “Kissing you is even better than I remembered.”

She pulled back slightly, lifting her gaze to his. “But I thought you didn't remember.”

He shook his head slowly, tucking her hair behind her ear as his gaze searched hers. “I thought what I remembered was just a dream—and that's no bullshit line. It's the truth. I was so out of it that night, I seriously thought maybe I'd just imagined everything that happened between us.”

“Why didn't you say something?” she demanded. “Why didn't you bring it up?”

“Why didn't
you
?” he fired back without missing a beat. “Put yourself in my position. I was going to look like a total jackass no matter what I did. Asking about it because I wasn't sure if it'd happened would've pissed you off. Clearly. And if I'd said something and it
hadn't
happened, you would've thought I was off my fucking nut.”

She had to admit, he had a good point. Why
hadn't
she said anything to him about it? “When you didn't say something, I thought what happened didn't mean anything to you.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and rested his forehead against hers. “Oh, honey… You couldn't be more wrong,” he murmured. “Do you have any idea how many times I've dreamed of kissing you, holding you?”

His lips found hers again in a slow kiss that stole her breath, and if she did not abruptly end the kiss, she had the distinct feeling she would yield to the desire that was burning in her veins.

Really hating to bring things to a grinding halt, Elle nonetheless gently eased out of his arms. “I'm sorry… I can't do this.”

He looked confused by her sudden withdrawal. “You don't believe what happened between us meant something to me?”

“I believe you, Gabe,” she admitted sincerely. “But think about it. You and I were both hurting, grief-stricken about losing Chris that night. We just needed someone. If it hadn't been me making out with you, it would've been someone else.”

“That's not true,” he argued, but she caught the note of uncertainty in his voice.

“Here we are again,” she continued, “having gone through something that shook us both to our roots. I just… I don't know that I can trust this. And I've seen how you operate, Gabe. Women are constantly throwing themselves at you. I've seen you leave Mulaney's with more women than I can even count.”