Safe from Harm (20 page)

When he reached his car, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Damn. He was a fucking mess. He chuckled quietly and shook his head.

“Excuse me.”

He'd been so in his own head, he started at the sudden, quiet voice behind him and turned so quickly that the woman who'd spoken leaped back a step, her eyes wide.

“I'm so sorry,” she said softly, her eyes darting about like a frightened doe's. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

Gabe shook his head, his brows coming together in a frown. “It's okay. Can I help you?”

She swallowed hard and her eyes darted around again, her anxiety immediately putting Gabe on edge. “Are you Deputy Gabe Dawson?”

He straightened, studying her more closely now. There was something vaguely familiar about her. She was young—college aged if Gabe had to hazard a guess—and pretty in a very sweet, wholesome way. Her thick, golden-blond hair was pulled back in a braid that came down to her waist, and she was dressed in a long sundress that obscured her figure. She had
innocent
written all over her.

Yet she held a bag that contained a small box of what Gabe would've guessed were condoms from what he could see through the thin white bag from the pharmacy. When she saw him glance at what she was holding, she quickly wrapped the bag around its contents and shoved it deep into the pocket of her skirt. Based on the way she flushed, he'd been dead on about her innocence—but it looked like she wasn't planning to stay that way.

“Yeah,” he finally replied to her question, his tone cautious, “I'm Deputy Gabe Dawson. Who's asking?”

She took a quick step forward, grasped his arm, and said in a tumble of words, “I recognize you from the photos. You have to be careful. You and the woman. He's planning something. I don't know what, but he's making my brothers do things, and they're going to get killed! You have to stop him. Please—you have to save my brothers. Brian's only thirteen—he doesn't understand what he's doing!”

“Whoa, hold on there,” Gabe said, holding up his free hand. Realization sent a cool shiver down his spine even as he asked, “Let's start with your name. You okay with telling me that?”

“Sandra Monroe,” she whispered, glancing around frantically.

“Jeb Monroe's daughter.”

She nodded, her eyes darting again.

Damn, he hated being right all the time.

“He'll be back soon.” She whimpered ever so slightly, as she added, “I can't be seen with you. My father will kill me if he knows I've told you anything.”

Gabe's hackles were up in an instant, his protective instincts in full force. “Get in the car, Sandra,” he urged, opening the door for her. “I'll take you to the sheriff's department where you can give a statement. We can protect you.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No! I can't. I have to protect my brothers.”

Gabe took a cautious step toward her and gently grasped her upper arm, keeping his voice even when he said, “Sandra, the best way to protect your brothers is to come in with me and tell us what you know. Then we can do what's necessary to remove them from your father's house.”

She lifted wide blue eyes to his, silently pleading, clearly torn. God, the woman was completely terrified. What kind of father terrorizes his own daughter, for fuck's sake? Gabe was gonna wring that bastard Monroe's neck when he got his hands on him.

“I…I don't know,” she stammered. “I need to think. This was a mistake.”

Gabe bent his knees slightly so that he was at her eye level. “It's never a mistake to do that right thing, Sandra.” He took out his phone and dialed his brother's number, planning to give him a heads-up that he was bringing in Monroe's daughter, but she snatched the phone from his grasp with a strangled cry and hung up.

When she handed the phone back to him, her hand was trembling and she seemed to curl into herself, as if she expected him to lash out at her. “Please don't tell anyone I said anything,” she pleaded. “If he finds out…”

Gabe shook his head. “I won't say a word.”

“Not even to the woman, the attorney,” she insisted. “I don't want her to get hurt. My father can't suspect she knows anything or it'll force his hand.”

Gabe's blood chilled. “What's he planning, Sandra? I love that attorney you're talking about. Very much. If anything ever happened to her…” His throat constricted at the thought, making it impossible for him to finish the sentence. He leveled his gaze at Monroe's daughter. “Tell me how to protect Elle, and I promise I'll do everything I can to protect your brothers.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, and he knew he'd gotten through to her. “Okay. But not here. My brother will—”

“
Sandra.
”

The woman practically jumped out of her skin at the harsh bark behind her. Gabe's eyes snapped up to meet the furious gaze of Jeremy Monroe.

“Get away from my sister,” Jeremy growled, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Gabe immediately took a step back. “It's okay. It's not what you think.”

“Liar!” Jeremy yelled, taking a menacing step forward, shaking with rage. “I know all about you,
sinner
! Leave my sister alone. You already have a whore.”

It took every bit of Gabe's control to not deck the little shit for calling Elle a whore. He clenched his jaw and shoved his finger in the kid's face. “Watch your mouth, Monroe. If I didn't know you were just parroting your father's words—”

“What?” Jeremy shot back. “You'd shoot me like you did my brother? Kill me here in the middle of the street?”

“I didn't kill your brother,” Gabe told him on a sigh, now feeling sorry for the kid more than angry. “And I'm not putting the moves on your sister. She's worried about you and your younger brother. Your father has brainwashed you, Jeremy—”

Gabe saw Jeremy's fist coming in plenty of time to block it. He grabbed the kid's arm and twisted it behind his back in one swift motion, frog-marching him across the sidewalk and pressing him against the wall of the pharmacy.

“I'm going to pretend that didn't happen,” Gabe ground out, hoping cutting the kid some slack would help persuade Jeremy that Gabe could be trusted. “I'm not the enemy, Jeremy. But you take another swing at me, kid, and I'm throwing your ass in jail. You get me?”

Jeremy nodded, but when Gabe released him, he took a step back out of Jeremy's reach, just in case. The kid was glaring daggers at him, his face white with a mixture of fear and fury. Without taking his gaze off of Gabe, Jeremy grabbed his sister's arm and shoved her ahead of him toward a pickup truck double-parked a few yards away.

Sandra sent one more pleading look at Gabe over her shoulder before climbing in the truck. Her brother quickly scurried around to the other side and peeled away, nearly taking out the front-end of another car in the process.

Shit!

Gabe ran a hand over his hair in frustration and cursed a blue streak. He'd been
this close
to convincing Sandra Monroe to come with him before her brother had shown up. Now he wasn't sure she'd ever give him the information they needed. And part of that information included an unknown threat to Elle. Fear squeezed his lungs like a vise, making it hard to breathe.

Forcing himself to get his shit together, Gabe got into the Charger and headed back to Elle's office to pick her up, using the two-minute drive to shake off the apprehension worming its way under his skin.

When he pulled up to the curb, Elle's smile was exactly what he needed. As soon as she slid into the seat, he leaned over and captured her lips in a long, slow kiss.

“Is that an apology for taking longer than five minutes?” she murmured with a grin. “If so, you can be late as often as you'd like.”

He kissed her again, briefly, then pulled away from the curb and reached over, clasping her fingers and giving them a squeeze. “Sorry. Took a bit longer than expected.”

“What happened?” she asked, reading him better than he liked at the moment.

He opened his mouth to tell her about Sandra Monroe, about what she'd been trying to tell him before her brother's sudden arrival, but his gut twisted with dread. He'd taken it on faith that Sandra's story was genuine, that she'd reached out to him in a genuine cry for help. But even if that was the case, he hated to think how her father would react if—hell, he might as well be honest—
when
he found out she'd spoken to someone he considered an enemy.

But Sandra's warning echoed in his head, making him bite back the truth. Instead, he shrugged and forced a smile. “Nothing. Just trying to help somebody who was lost. But promise me you'll be careful, okay? If you see one of the Monroes, just walk the other direction.”

She frowned at him. “Yeah, okay. What's going on with you?”

“Seriously, Elle, promise me,” he demanded. “I'm worried as hell about what Monroe's up to. If anything were to happen to you…”

She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Okay. I promise.”

“Jezebel!”

Jeb Monroe's fury stoked a fire in his veins that threatened to burst forth at any moment and blaze brighter than the pits of Hell. He charged toward his daughter where she cowered on the sofa, wrapped in her mother's embrace, tempted to smash her pretty face with the hand he'd balled into a fist.

“Who is he?” he roared, throwing the box of condoms at her. He'd been waiting for her to return and had forced her to empty her pockets and show him what she'd purchased. Her cheek was still red and swollen where he'd struck her. “Who's the boy you're spreading your legs for, you filthy little
whore
!”

“No one!” she cried through her sobs. “I've not been with anyone yet!”

“Yet!” he shouted, seizing upon the word. He grabbed her hair and wrenched her head up, forcing her to look him in the eyes. Through clenched teeth he demanded, “You give me a name, girl. You tell me right now or I will take a strap to you until you bleed.”

“Leave her be, Jeb!” his wife screamed at him, digging her nails into his hand, trying to pry his grip loose. “She's done nothing wrong.”

Tired of his wife's interference and coddling, he swung his free arm, catching her in the temple, barely sparing her a glance when she fell to the side with a groan. He pulled Sandra to her feet, dragging her out of the room. She flailed and punched at him, screaming at him to let her go, which only increased his rage. Didn't she realize what he'd done to protect her over the years? What lengths he'd gone to to keep her safe from the lascivious eyes of the corrupt and sinful who would defile her innocence?

Society had grown too lax. The government had ruined the youth of today with their interference. All
he
had ever done was try to keep his daughter safe from these modern-day Sodomites. And the ungrateful little bitch thanked him by running headlong into the arms of the very sinners he was trying to protect her from.

He opened her bedroom door and shoved her in, locking her inside. “You're staying in there until you're ready to give me a name. You hear me, girl?”

The only answer was incoherent screaming as she pounded her fists on the door.

His chest heaving, Jeb strode back into the living room to deal with his traitorous wife. She was lying on the sofa where he'd left her, not moving. He felt a slight twinge of guilt at having knocked her unconscious, but he shoved it aside. She'd brought it upon herself. If she'd just shut her mouth and let him handle things instead of coddling Sandra when her sins were laid bare, then the woman wouldn't be in such a state now.

He left her where she was and stormed into the kitchen, where he'd banished the boys. Brian made a swipe at his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he'd been crying. Jeb made a mental note that he'd need to toughen that boy up if he was going to carry on the cause. But right now, he had a bone to pick with his other son.

“Brian, get to your room,” Jeb ordered. “I need to talk to your brother.”

Without a word, Brian launched to his feet and ran from the room. As soon as he was gone, Jeb pegged his son with a pointed glare. “Give me a name, boy.”

Jeremy swallowed hard and glanced in the direction of Sandra's screams, his eyes wide with fear.

“You want to help your sister?” Jeb asked. “You want to keep her safe from harm?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Then you give me a name, boy,” Jeb ordered. “You tell me who it was your sister was meeting in town.”

“I saw her talking with someone,” Jeremy admitted. “But I don't think… I mean, I'm not sure anymore… She said nothing happened.”

“And you're going believe her?” Jeb demanded. “When she lied to me about why she wanted to go to town? When she was planning on lying down with devils?”

Jeremy flinched at a tremendous thud that sounded like Sandra was trying to batter down her door. “Please, sir,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please let her go. She's going to hurt herself.”

Jeb pulled out a chair and sat down across the table from his son. He kept his voice low, even, when he said, “You tell me the man's name, boy, and I'll let her go.”

Jeremy licked his lips, still looking torn, but then rasped, “Gabe Dawson.”

Jeb nodded slowly. He should've known. It was the ultimate betrayal. Mac Dawson had already stolen Jeb's land for the government. Had taken two of his sons. It only made sense that the sheriff would send his favorite son to steal away Jeb's only daughter too.

“I saw them talking,” Jeremy added. “I don't know if he's the one she's been meeting, though, Dad.”

Jeb slowly got to his feet. “You did the right thing telling me, boy.”

“What're you gonna do?” Jeremy asked, his voice quaking. “You're gonna let Sandra out now, right?”

Before Jeb could answer, he heard hurried footsteps behind him and turned to see his youngest standing in the kitchen doorway. “I told you to go to your room!”

“It's Mom,” Brian said. “I can't wake her up.”

Jeb heaved an irritated sigh and strode back into the living room. As if he didn't have enough to deal with. “Get up, woman,” he ordered. “Your son's convinced something's wrong with you.” When she didn't respond, Jeb grumbled under his breath and strode to the sofa, grabbing her shoulder and roughly shoving her back. “I said—”

He bit off his words when her head lolled, her mouth agape. He dropped to his knees to put an ear to her chest.

“What's wrong with her?” Brian demanded, frantic. “What's wrong? Mom, wake up!”

Jeb lifted his wife's limp body from the sofa. “Look what they made me do,” he growled, carrying her to their bedroom, his sons in tow. “Look what those bastards made me
do
!”

Brian was sobbing, screaming for his mother.

“Stop crying, boy,” Jeb snapped as he put his wife on the bed. “She's alive.”

He smoothed her hair. “
They
did this. You see that, don't you? They made me do this.”

Jeremy shook his head, backing out of the room, dragging his little brother with him. “Who, Dad? Who
the hell
made you do anything? You're totally fucking crazy!”

Jeb was on his feet in an instant, storming after his sons as they rushed down the hall. “Don't you talk to me that way in my own house, boy! I'll tan your hide!” Through the haze of his anger, Jeb heard Jeremy pressing buttons on his phone. “
Hang up that phone.
Jeremy! Hang up the phone!”

Jeremy halted and turned back to face him, his face twisted with anger of his own. “Mom needs an ambulance. I'm calling the police.”

Jeb snatched the phone from his son's hand and flung it against the wall. “Like hell you are.”

Jeremy shook his head. “I'm not doing this anymore.”

When Jeb took a step toward his son, Jeremy shoved his younger brother behind him and lifted his chin in defiance.

So it had come to this, then.

“You do what I say, boy,” Jeb hissed. “Don't make me tell you twice.”

Jeremy adjusted his stance like he was spoilin' for a fight. “No. What are you going to do if I don't? Kill me too?”

Jeb narrowed his eyes. “I should've known you couldn't take your brothers' places at my side. You're
useless
. I'll handle this myself.”

“After you let Sandra go, right?” Jeremy said as Jeb strode from the room.

Jeb scoffed. “She's not going anywhere. And if I catch either one of you boys trying to get her out of her room or sneaking food to her, you'll end up the same way.” He glared at his youngest son. “Brian, go use the kitchen phone and call your uncles. Tell them I'm calling a family meeting.”

* * *

Elle rested her head on Gabe's chest and grinned as his fingers lightly smoothed up and down her spine. “That was incredible.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Incredible is an understatement.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly on a long, contented sigh. “Why didn't we do this sooner?”

He chuckled. “It wasn't for lack of trying on my part, let me tell ya.”

She kissed his chest, loving the way he groaned with need. She was beginning to recognize that particular sound and what it meant, and that knowledge made her shiver as he rolled her onto her back and captured her mouth in a hungry kiss.

When the kiss ended, he raised his head and peered down at her, brushing her hair away from her face. The look in his eyes was so filled with emotion, her throat constricted. “Gabe, is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No. In fact, everything's
right.
It scares the hell out of me.”

“Why?” she asked, confused. “Do you regret what's happening between us?”

“God no!” he assured her. “Not for a second.” His fingertips trailed along the curve of her face as his gaze took her in.

“Then what is it?” she prompted, the gravity of his mood worrying her. “Something's on your mind, I can tell.”

His gorgeous, full lips curved up into a grin. “Making love to you all night is the only thing on my mind right now.”

He was lying.
But why?

She lifted her chin, granting him access to her throat as his lips explored her skin, arching into him as his mouth teased her breasts, holding him close as he made love to her again, slowly, languidly, as if savoring every moment.

But when he would've withdrawn from her, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, keeping him where he was. “All night long?” she whispered. “Is that your plan?”

He nodded, nuzzling near her ear. “Every night,” he murmured. “If you'll let me.”

Her heart began to pound, fluttering against her chest. “Gabe—”

He stopped her words with a kiss, then lifted his head to meet her gaze. “I love you, Elle.”

Her breath caught in her lungs. She'd longed to hear those words since she was a teenager, had denied herself even the smallest hope of
ever
hearing them. And now she couldn't quite believe them.

She shook her head a little, clearing away the blissful haze that always descended upon her when she was in Gabe's arms. “What did you say?”

“I love you,” he repeated. “I know it's probably too soon to say that. But—”

“I love you, too,” she said, the words coming out before she could stop them. “I always have.”

His breath shot out of him on a sharp exhale, and he pressed his forehead to hers. Then he was kissing her again, his fingers spearing into her hair. But there was something off in his kiss, something in the way his lips clung to hers, that made her search his gaze for answers when he at last drew the kiss to a close and got up to dispose of the condom. When he returned to bed, he pulled her back into his arms without a word, holding her close to his heart as if afraid to let her go.

“What is it?” she pressed gently. “Gabe, there's something wrong. I can feel it.” When he tried to turn his gaze from her, she took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “Gabe Dawson, I
love
you. With all my heart. But you have to
let
me love you. Don't shut me out now—not after what you just confessed.”

He closed his eyes for a moment as if considering her words. “I'm worried about Monroe, about what he's going to try next. I've got to stop that son of a bitch. When I think about him trying to hurt you again… God, Elle, I just want to keep you here in my arms and never let you go.”

“Oh, Gabe…” She brushed a kiss to his cheek, his brow. “Do you think I worry about
you
any less? You're the one who told me we can't let Monroe get to us or he wins.”

He shook his head. “It's different now.”

“Why?” she pressed. “Because we're lovers?”

He clenched his jaw, his chiseled features appearing even sharper. “Something like that.”

She lifted the silver Saint Michael's pendant from where it lay just below the hollow of his throat and rubbed her thumb over the image of the archangel, his sword raised against the cowering Satan at his feet. How many times had she prayed for Saint Michael's protection for Gabe and all the Dawsons? Too many to count.

“Nothing's different for me when it comes to being afraid for your safety,” she insisted. When he gave her a questioning look, she continued, “Since you became a deputy over a decade ago, I've prayed every day I wouldn't get a call that you'd been hurt. Or killed. Just because I hadn't told you I love you, Gabe, it didn't make my fear for you any less real.”

“But this is my
job
,” he reminded her. “I accepted the risks when I signed on. Every man in my family has been in law enforcement since before Fairfield County even
was
a county. There were no rose-colored glasses when I decided to follow in my father's footsteps. But you're an
attorney
, for Chrissake. You shouldn't ever have to be in the crosshairs, Elle. Not like this.”

Elle offered him a halfhearted smile. “You might not be seeing
your
career with rose-colored glasses, Dawson, but you're certainly using them to view
mine
. I prosecute the bad guys you're arresting, remember? You don't think any of them or their family hold grudges? There's a reason my address isn't listed in the phone book, Gabe.”

He sighed—which she immediately recognized as a sign that he was about to capitulate to her rather than actually confide what was bothering him. Yeah, well, that tactic might work for some people, but she wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. After all, hadn't he said one of the things he admired most about her was her ability to see through his bullshit?