ARRESTED: A Stepbrother Cop Romance Read online

  “Alright, son. I’m Officer Carlisle. Can I come in?”

  He pulls the door open wide enough for me to enter the property. It all seems quiet so I focus on him for a second, scanning him for injuries. Thankfully he looks fine.

  “Did you dial 911?” I ask and he nods.

  “Can you show me where your mom is?”

  He pushes the front door until it clicks into place and then looks at the sliding chain as though he wants to secure the premises.

  “It’s okay. Nothing’s gonna happen while I’m here. What’s your name?”

  “Jackson,” he answers and starts down the hall.

  I look into every room we pass. There’s a table overturned in the den, and a couple of pictures have been knocked off the wall. We pass what I assume is his room; painted blue with a racing car bed. At the end of the hallway, I hear whimpers.

  “Is this where your mom is?” I ask Jackson, putting my hand on his shoulder before we enter the room.

  “Yes.” I can feel his body trembling and I have an urge to pick up this boy who is on the verge of becoming a man and hold him close. My father isn’t a massively emotional person but I always felt his love when I was growing up. He showed me what it means to be a good man and I hope that I reflect him in everything I do. I don’t want this kid to hear any of what comes next. He’s been through more than any kid ever should.

  “Jackson, will you go to your room and wait for me there?” I ask, making sure I’m looking him right in the eye when I do. He blinks and stares back as though he’s trying to decide whether he can trust me. He must see enough to reassure him because he turns and heads back to his room.

  At the doorway to the master suite I call out. “Ma’am, my name is Officer Carlisle. I’m coming in?”

  I hear a whimper from deep in the darkened room.

  Jackson’s mom is curled on her side on the bed. Her arms are clutched around her middle and she’s weeping.

  “Ma’am, do you need an ambulance?”

  “No,” she whispers. “I don’t think so.”

  I kneel at the side of the bed, getting a look at her swollen face that is cut in places and horribly bruised. There is blood in her blonde hair and on her hands. There are bruises on her upper arms and wrists. She’s really been worked over.

  “You look like you do,” I say softly. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

  Her eyes are just like Jackson’s but wet with tears. She nods once and I call it in. “Your son doesn’t have to go with you. There’s another unit on the way.”

  I glance around the room and catch sight of a wedding picture on the nightstand. The man I assume is Jackson’s dad is huge; at least a foot taller than his wife. What kind of satisfaction can a man get from beating on someone weak and helpless? I just don’t get it.

  “Can you get up?”

  “I think so.” She slides her jean-clad legs over the edge of the bed and rests her bare feet on the hardwood. I can tell she’s embarrassed by the way she smooths her hair, attempting to make herself presentable. She doesn’t want to look bad in front of me and it breaks my heart.

  “Where did your husband go?” I know I’m going to get some serious satisfaction if I can hunt the fucker down.

  “Probably back to Hudson’s, over on Fourth,” she sighs. “He always comes back from there full of alcohol and anger.”

  “You need to press charges against him,” I say. “It’s not going to stop, no matter how much you wish it would.”

  She nods but I get the feeling I’m not the first person to tell her that. In a lot of cases like this the women are too scared to move on; fearful of the man or of life without them. I can’t pretend to know what that’s like, and I won’t judge if I haven’t walked a person’s path. Until you’ve been in their position you can’t know what you would do.

  There’s a knock at the front door and I stand, helping this fragile woman to her feet. We walk towards the front door just as Jackson is opening it. The second unit comprises a huge African American officer called Marley, and a tiny female officer called Angelique. They make an odd pair but I know how well they work together.

  It’s Marley who takes over with Jackson’s mom and leads her into the kitchen to get her some water while we wait for the ambulance. He’s so gentle that I can see her relaxing immediately. Angelique is talking to Jackson and follows him into his room. I hear them discussing Marvel comics, debating who would beat who in a straight fight.

  I open the front door, looking around in case the man of the house happens to be lurking outside. Sometimes the perps in domestic cases wait until the police have left and then go back in and finish the job, blaming their partners for getting them into trouble.

  There’s no one out there as far as I can see but I wait in the doorway, enjoying the cool night air. It’s been a long shift. Pretty crappy stuff except the traffic stop I did. That girl was something else. It took all my willpower to hold a straight face when she was trying to sass me. All her attempts to flaunt her assets in the hope I’d let her off without a ticket were very amusing.

  I have a thing for girls with long dark hair. It looks so good tangled around my fingers. And her legs were so fucking long. They’d feel fantastic clutched around my waist. My cock kicks under my uniform and I take a deep breath. I need to keep my mind on the job but it’s hard when you’ve been faced with a devil in an angel’s body. The way she looked at me, with one-part innocence and ten-parts sin has got me intrigued. I’ve got her license plate. I could look her up on the database back at the station. I shake my head at that ridiculous thought. I’m a cop, not a fucking stalker.

  The thing is, I know I could break her off. She had that look in her eyes that’s begging for someone to lay down the law. She’s a bad girl and she needs a good cop to put her on the straight and narrow. Except, I’m probably never going to see her again. Tempting or not, it looks like Allyson has become a stranger in the night.

  The ambulance pulls up and I call for Marley to bring Jackson’s mom outside. Once everything is settled, I get into my squad car and head back to the station. It’s not until I’m home, that I realize I can smell Allyson on my palm.

  Once I’m undressed and settle in bed, I come into my own hand, with angel-Allyson’s scent in my nose, and her pussy on my mind.

  4

  ALLYSON

  I walk through the mall in search of caffeine and my mom, in that order. After my orgasm last night, I slept great but I woke up early to get things done around the house. Mom spends a lot of her time with her new boyfriend so if I want clean clothes it’s up to me. Not that it’s a bad thing to have the house to myself sometimes. Now that I’m at college, I miss the comforts of home. Up until now, I’ve appreciated mom keeping her social life to herself, too. I’m glad I haven’t had to put up with finding Jeff at the house all the time.

  I spot my mom, already sipping what looks like a latte, at our favorite java place. I hurry through the mall ignoring the shops calling my name. Yes, I do need a new skirt. I want those new shoes, but there will be time for shopping later. Mom wanted to meet for a reason. As I approach she smiles but I can tell something is wrong. Her smile is too wide, her eyes too bright.

  “Sweetie, you look great.”

  “Thanks, mom. So do you. I didn’t see you this morning,” I say. She brushes invisible dust off the table. “Were you home?”

  “Yeah,” I say. I don’t want to tell her the reason. “I was out of underwear.”

  She nods. “I didn’t know what you wanted.” She gestures towards the empty spot on the table where my usual skinny latte should be sitting.

  I frown because she’s not usually forgetful. Nine times out of ten I get the skinny latte, mixing it up once in a while with an Americano or a tea. Odds were in her favor if she went with the latte. Something’s going on. I study her face but the smile stays plastered there. Her hands are folded over each other and resting on the table in a way that looks nervous.

  “That
’s okay. I need something a little stronger today. Want another?” I point to her cup. She shakes her head, wrapping her hands around her mug as if to warm them. On this sunny July day.

  With a glance over my shoulder, I hurry to wait in line. From this distance, I can still see her. She pulls out her cell phone, flicks her finger over the screen and smiles. The first genuine smile I’ve seen on her face since I arrived. She taps a couple of times and puts the phone face down on the table. What is she hiding?

  The java joint is packed and it takes forever to reach the barista. More time to worry about what’s up with my mom. She looks up and smiles at me, the huge fake smile from before. I smile back, wondering what could be going on with her. I order a large Americano and do my best not to tap my fingers on the counter while the barista makes it for me. It’s not her fault that everything in my world feels so shaky right now. Feeling like I need some good karma, I drop a dollar in the tip bowl and walk back to the table, teasing myself with the scent of coffee as I go.

  Once I settle in and take a sip my eyes close in ecstasy. I need this caffeine to perk me up so I can be understanding when my mom tells me whatever her bad news is. I’m assuming bad news because she seems so flustered. She has all the telltale signs of something eating her up inside. The napkin that came with her latte lays on the table in a shredded mess. Though her phone is face down her eyes dart to it every few seconds as if she’s waiting for a call or a text message.

  “How’s Jeff?”

  She jerks her head up and her eyes go wide. “He’s fine. How are you? How was the party?”

  I gasp, forgetting for a minute that I told her about it on the phone yesterday. Instantly images of Drew’s snarling face flood my mind and tears prick behind my eyes. I can’t cry here, not in front of Mom when she obviously has her own stuff going on. I know she’ll want to know all the details and I can’t tell her and see the disappointment on her face. I blink and force a smile, conjuring a much nicer face into my mind; Officer Carlisle in all his stern glory. It settles my racing heart, as though he’s reached out and pulled me against his solid chest and told me everything’s going to be alright.

  “It was okay,” I mumble.

  I take another sip of my coffee and study her with intense curiosity. She’s never kept anything from me before and while I can tell she wants to get something off her chest, she can’t seem to bring herself to. She fidgets in her chair, her hand moving to the phone but stopping before picking it up.

  “Mom, is everything okay? What did you want to tell me?”

  She picks up her mug to take a sip but realizes it’s empty. She puts it back on the table. Her phone buzzes and she jumps, knocking over the sugar.

  “I’m such a klutz sometimes.” She rights the sugar and wipes the fine white particles into her mug then smiles up at me.

  My mom is a lot of things but she’s never in her life been a klutz. “Mom, spill it.”

  Her shoulders slump forward, she grabs my hands, her eyes are earnest. “I want you to know it won’t change anything.”

  Panic races through my body. Is she sick? Has something happened to someone in the family? “What won’t change anything?”

  “Jeff proposed!”

  Joy shines through her eyes. A huge smile turns up the corners of her mouth revealing perfect, straight white teeth that she never tires of thanking her braces for. Torn, I plaster a smile on my face as I lean over and hug her above the table.

  “That’s great, Mom.”

  What else do you say when your mother tells you she’s getting married? Stomp your feet and demand all of her attention? Remind her that Jeff is the first real relationship she’s had in years? It seems quick. Can she really be sure about him?

  It will no longer be just me and my mom. Jeff will be her husband, not just a boyfriend. I liked it when he was a boyfriend. Boyfriends are temporary. Husbands seem so much more permanent.

  “You really think so, sweetie?”

  “Of course, I do. I guess I’m just a bit flustered because I’ve never met Jeff. I feel like I should know something about him, now that he’s going to be my stepfather?”

  Another wave of panic settles in my stomach. Would he move in with mom, into my home? Would we have to move in with him? I try not to think about the details yet and concentrate on my mom. Her eyes light up as she talks about him.

  “You’ll love him. He’s in law enforcement. A captain actually.”

  So my new stepfather is a cop. Great. Not the best profession for a long term commitment. The worry, and the long hours. So many law enforcement marriages end in divorce. It’s one of the main themes in cop dramas on TV. I wonder if my mother has thought through all of these things. Don’t cops have baggage? Lots of baggage. I’m not thinking about trysts during stakeouts, though that crosses my mind too. But what about the other stuff? The drinking problems, abuse, deep-seated emotional baggage. Scary stuff that my mom doesn’t deserve, because she’s been through it all before.

  I wonder how much my mom really knows about Jeff. Her words tumble out of her mouth like she’s a recording on high speed. She finally stops and takes a breath.

  “I can’t wait for you to meet him. There’s a lot we have to talk about. Living arrangements and stuff, but don’t worry about that right now. It’ll be a few months before we get to that.”

  She flicks her hand out to show me her ring. I was so engrossed in the events of the night before and worry that she was hiding something that I hadn’t even seen the ring on her finger. I take her hand and examine it. Not a bad cut, sparkly enough, not too big but not small either. Jeff has decent taste in rings.

  I look up at my mom’s bright eyes and grin. Great taste in women too.

  “Nice ring.”

  She holds out her hand in front of herself to admire it. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “Have you talked about a date yet?”

  “No date yet. We wanted to talk it over with you and Cory first. It’s the second marriage for both of us so we don’t want to go too big.”

  Of course. Me and Cory. Who the hell is Cory?

  “Cory?” I ask.

  “Did I forget to mention Jeff has a son!”

  I take a deep breath and another hit of my coffee. A new stepfather and a stepbrother. It seems as though I’ll be going from being an only child, to part of a family of four. I can handle that, can’t I?

  The idea of being a normal family grows on me the more I think about it. For so long it’s just been the two of us and while I love my mom to pieces, I always wanted more. I wanted what my friends had; two parents that were looking out for them, siblings to confide in. I’ve always thought those things were out of reach.

  I wonder what Cory will be like. When I was younger I used to think about having a brother or sister. I thought if I had a sibling I would always have someone to play with. Not that I minded growing up an only child. Being the only kid in the house had its advantages.

  “Tell me about my new stepbrother.”

  “He’s following in his father’s footsteps. He’s also a police officer.”

  Two police officers in the soon-to-be family.

  “Interesting. Does he like being a cop?”

  “They both love it. You can ask them all about it tomorrow at dinner.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes, if you can make it. Jeff wants to meet you and make it all official and I really want you meet his son too. Can you make it?”

  Fresh panic sets in. I’ve got enough on my plate right now without having to play happy families. What if I don’t like them? What if they don’t like me? This could be a disaster.

  I take another sip of my Americano, draining the rest of it. Suddenly I need more caffeine and maybe a little sugar now. All I want is for my mom to be happy. At least one of us should have that luxury. She’s been through a lot in her life and deserves something good for a change. Silently I vow to be on my best behavior tomorrow. If my mom loves him, he can’t be horrible.


  She reaches over and pats my hand. “Relax, sweetie. It’s just dinner. A chance for us all to get to know each other better. Jeff will love you. And you’ll love him.”

  I hope she’s right. At least his son will be there, someone closer to my own age who I can commiserate with while our parents make goo-goo eyes at each other. The more I think about the two-parents-two kids-dynamic, the more I like the idea. I’m looking forward to meeting Cory. Having a stepbrother might be fun. Having someone else to trust, someone to talk to might be good for me.

  “Okay, sure. Dinner tomorrow sounds great.”

  “Wonderful!”

  She snatches the phone from the table and her fingers fly over the screen as she types a message. A few seconds later it buzzes with a response.

  “Jeff can’t wait to meet you,” she says beaming.

  “Tell him I can’t wait to meet him either.”

  She types in the message and her posture relaxes. She’s no longer fidgeting. A glow takes over her face and I smile despite the nerves knotting my stomach.

  I’m always looking for an excuse to go shopping and a new insta-family is a perfect reason. As soon as we’re done with coffee I’ll stop by those shops and get those shoes and that skirt. Anything to help make a good first impression.

  Somehow it will all work out. And I get a stepbrother. What could be wrong with that?

  5

  CORY

  I’m at Hudson’s bar on Fourth. I arranged to meet Simons, my partner in all things law enforcement, for a beer. It’s been a shitty week overall, and I need to blow off some steam. I order us both a drink and we take a seat at the bar, watching the sports news that’s playing on a flat-screen in the corner.

  “Why the fuck did you pick this place?” Simons asks.

  It’s a good question. The bar’s a dive, with sticky floors and a pervading smell of the toilets wafting from the back. The men in here are definitely not our usual crowd. I’m wearing a baseball cap pulled down low to avoid the risk of being recognized. I’m sure I’ve arrested at least one of the guys in here.