ARRESTED: A Stepbrother Cop Romance Page 6

  I can’t look at him. My eyes are on my shoes as my stomach clenches, fear making the blue shots churn in my stomach. He ducks his head to try and catch my eyes, grabbing hold of my face and lifting it when I resist.

  “Look at me when I’m fucking talking to you, Allyson.”

  Drew’s eyes are so mean. Why didn’t I see the spite in him when we were dating? Either I was a blind idiot or he’s a pro at wearing a civilized mask. He’s so close I can smell his sour breath and see the yellow staining on his teeth. People are passing us but no one seems to notice that I’m scared or that he’s threatening me. We must look like an ordinary couple from the outside.

  When I don’t react he takes hold of my wrist again, and starts to drag me through the den and into the corridor. The stairs to the second floor loom ahead and I look around frantically, trying to think of a way to escape his grasp. A quick scan of the people hanging around tells me there is no one I know well enough to use as a distraction, but I know that the second he has me in a bedroom I’m done for. His grip around my wrist tightens as he walks up the stairs. Pain needles up my arm as I stumble behind him on trembling legs.

  Before we get halfway up to the next floor, the front door of the frat house bursts open. People stop and stare as four cops enter the room, gazes alert, hands hovering above their weapons. The fourth officer inside looks familiar. The way he moves, the shape of his shoulders in his uniform. As he glances up the stairs, my eyes lock with his.

  Cory.

  My heart pounds as his eagle cop eyes zoom in on Drew’s hand around my wrist. The trembling in my legs spreads through my entire body making me shake.

  A muscle twitches in Cory’s jaw. His eyes narrow as he watches Drew’s hand squeeze my wrist tighter. Drew pulls again, but I resist for a moment, tears blurring my vision. I want to call out but if I anger Drew, I know what’ll happen. I can’t cause a scene.

  The officers spread out, entering rooms and issuing orders. Partygoers stream out of the den, living room, and dining room mumbling at the unfairness of it all as they leave through the front door. Cory walks forward until he’s at the foot of the stairs, still watching me and Drew. The music is turned off and the frat house is a mess of disappointed revelers. Drew looks torn, glancing up the stairs as though he thinks he might still be able to execute his plan for me, but he seems to change his mind, turning around and heading down again. His focus is on the front door. It’s as though he hasn’t even noticed Cory. I guess he has no reason to know this particular cop would have any special interest in either of us.

  Before Drew reaches the foot of the stairs, Cory steps in front of him. A few people slip passed and Drew watches them go. I feel the anger pouring off Drew’s body, searing into my wrist through his grip on my hand. The muscle in Cory’s jaw twitches again. He looks up from my hand and fixes Drew with a glare that would make most men cower.

  After a short staring match, he looks at me. “Are you okay?”

  I nod but he’s looking at my eyes that I know are moist with tears and filled with fear. I blink and look away, not ready for the humiliation of crying in front of my stepbrother-to-be and not wanting to provoke Drew by starting some kind of incident. Cory frowns at my lie then looks down at my wrist again.

  “Thank you for looking after my stepsister,” he says firmly, eyes fixed on Drew. “No need to worry now. I’ll see that she gets home safely.”

  I hold my breath waiting for Drew to argue but he turns to look at me, confusion then disbelief crossing his face. The reality of his situation dawns on him. He looks down at his grip around my wrist, letting it go as if my skin is on fire. The color drains from his face. My wrist is so sore, the skin red and chaffed. Maybe it’s finally dawning on him that what he was about to do to me is illegal. Blackmail is one thing. Releasing those photos is illegal too now. But doing things to me against my will is a whole other kind of fucked up. I take a deep breath and watch the men stare at each other, sizing each other up. Maybe now that Drew knows my stepbrother is in law enforcement, he’ll back off.

  “Good to know,” Drew says. He turns and glares at me, and the ferociousness of his stare hits me like a physical blow. Just as I’m about to take a step back to put some distance between us he turns and walks out of the house.

  I wrap my arms around me trying to stop the shaking. When I calm down a little, the throbbing in my wrist pulls my attention. There is a welt in the shape of his fingers. I cuff my wrist, rubbing the skin in an attempt to smooth it out. How long will it take for the impression to go away? The thought of carrying around the mark of Drew’s abuse makes me want to cry. I don’t need reminders of the harm he can inflict on me. I’ve barely been holding it together as it is.

  I shudder and look up at Cory. His face is impassive in just the way it was at the side of the road when he was deciding whether or not to book me. Maybe he’s been trained not to show what he’s thinking. He doesn’t say anything and the silence stretches between us.

  I feel lost, standing on these stairs; bereft. My feet are hurting in the stupid gold sandals I chose to wear to this ridiculous party I didn’t want to attend. The tight jeans and halter top feel too restrictive, too sexy. Cory turns, surveying the movement of people out of the premises. His colleagues are starting to join us in the hallway, one by one, as the rooms are cleared. A few stragglers lumber through the hall and stumble outside. In all the commotion I’ve lost track of Rachel. I’m sure she’s already been shepherded outside. Maybe she’ll be waiting out there for me. Or maybe the police have told everyone to make their way home.

  “Everyone is out now,” one of the policemen says.

  Cory nods. He steps forward and touches my elbow in a gesture so gentle I want to collapse into his arms. Despite all my mixed feelings about him, what I want most right now is to feel comforted and protected.

  “Thanks, Simons. I’ll be out in a second. Make sure everyone is on their way home.”

  The officer nods and leaves the house. From the doorway, I can hear Cory’s colleagues issuing orders to disperse. A few of the more inebriated students grumble and stubbornly refuse to move and are met by a firm response.

  I don’t want to go out there until everyone is gone. I don’t want to have to face Drew again, or answer Rachel’s questions.

  “I’ll take you back to your dorm,” Cory says, answering my prayers.

  Unable to speak because I know the tears will flow at his concern, I merely nod and snuggle into his side when he puts an arm around my shoulders to guide me out of the house.

  8

  CORY

  The darkness blurs in front of the cruiser as I speed through the winding streets of the city. When I look into the rear-view mirror I catch the glint of Allyson’s unshed tears and I have to look away. I don’t know what the fuck was going on with her and that asshole. The way he had his hand around her wrist was definitely not friendly. When I told him I’d take care of her he looked furious.

  I think about the way Jackson’s dad had looked at me when I told him I’d hunt him down. He had that same coiled rage as the douchebag at the party, and Allyson had the same fear in her eyes that Jackson’s mom had. Something about the whole situation stinks.

  I glance back again and Allyson has wrapped her arms around herself as though she’s cold. I turn up the heat just in case.

  She looks so sad right now, and I wonder if he was the reason she looked so scared when I pulled her over. Maybe he was the one she was speeding away from.

  I had a weird feeling in my gut when Simons and I had taken the call about the campus party getting out of hand. It’s not a small college, so the chances of bumping into Allyson again were pretty remote, but for some reason, I was kind of expecting to.

  She’s been on my mind something chronic for days. The taste of her lips, the feel of her skin. The way her eyes sparkle with mischief but go dark with mystery. There’s none of that now, though. It’s been replaced with sadness.

  We’re getting close to
the road where I pulled her over for speeding. The cruiser’s headlights pierce the darkness. I didn’t have a partner that night and although I love Simons like a brother, I wish he wasn’t sitting next to me right now. If I was alone with Allyson, I could talk to her. Not in the jokey way we sparred at the restaurant, but seriously about what is going on with her. She looks like she needs to talk to someone.

  I glance back at her and our eyes meet in the mirror and I’m hit with a bolt of electricity that I feel in my balls. Her eyes seem wild and fearful. I can feel anxiety rolling off her in waves. I wish I knew her better so that I’d know what her expression meant.

  Simons starts talking in a hushed tone, complaining about college students and what a waste of police time it is trying to keep them from drinking themselves into an early grave. He’s writing notes on our callout, which will make the paperwork easier to deal with later.

  “You sure you want to go to your dorm and not home?” I ask Allyson. I don’t like the idea of dropping her off at some impersonal college block without any family around her.

  She nods and I think I see her take a deep breath.

  “Mom’s not home so I’ll be on my own wherever I go,” she says. Her voice is small and it wraps my heart with a sensation that feels dark and hollow.

  “Campus it is, then. Which dorms?” I ask, trying to sound upbeat. I don’t want her to cry in the back of my cruiser when all my attention needs to be focused on driving.

  “Dixon. Do you know where it is?”

  I nod, taking the next left and we speed down a street with lights lining the road. It’s eerily empty at this time of night. Waiting at traffic lights for the signal to turn green seems pointless and I wish I could set my lights flashing and breeze through, but getting Allyson home isn’t exactly a life or death emergency. On the short drive to the dorms, we don’t encounter another car and Simons is almost nodding off in the passenger seat next to me.

  I bring the car to a stop in front of her dorm and mumble that I’m walking Allyson to her door. Simons nods sleepily and remains in the car. I get out and go around to open the back door, holding it open for Allyson. She looks like she’s pleased to get out, even though she’s done nothing wrong. I’ve never sat in the back of a squad car but I can imagine there must be something unpleasant about it. She takes my hand, and her slim fingers curl around mine in a way that makes me think of sex.

  Even though the timing is totally inappropriate, everything about her makes me think of sex, from her plump lips to the way she walks and smells. My dick twitches and I feel decidedly uncomfortable about my reactions to her right now. She’s looking at my hand as though the contact between us feels good to her too. She sighs softly as I pull away as if she regrets the loss of my touch. With dark circles shadowing her eyes and a slight slump to her usual upright posture, I can sense her unease. The sex thoughts pass, chased by an urge to hold her against me and comfort her. Weirdly deep feelings for someone I barely know.

  I want to make her feel safe, but not just in the way a cop would. It’s more than that. I want to be a friend to her, too.

  We walk to the door in an awkward silence that’s filled with questions that I want to ask but I bet she won’t answer. The events of the evening seem to have sapped all her energy. Before she can pull out her keys, I touch her shoulder. I can’t let her go inside without at least trying.

  “What was going on between you and that guy, Allyson?”

  She seems torn, as though she wants to confide in me but doesn’t quite feel comfortable enough to do so. I get it. It’s not like we’re friends or family. We’ve had two very strange interactions and at the last one I teased her mercilessly and pushed her boundaries, maybe a little too hard.

  I hope that she sees that my concern is genuine. I want her to confide in me so I can help her. I want to see the light in her eyes again, and if I’m honest, the thought of that guy being anything more than a friend to her makes me want to punch his lights out.

  “We were having an argument,” she says. “He’s my ex and he wants me back. That old cliché!” She laughs in a way that sounds forced and maybe even a little frantic. What he was doing to her wasn’t funny at all and I need her to understand that if nothing else.

  “The way he was holding you, that wasn’t okay, Allyson.” I gently take her hand and look pointedly at the red welts still present around her wrist. Before I get a chance to comment any further, she pulls her hand away and uses the other to cover over the sore patch.

  “I know. He has a temper. And he doesn’t like it if he doesn’t get his way.”

  She’s looking at me uncomfortably as though she knows I’m not entirely sure she’s telling me the whole truth. I can’t help it that the cogs of my cop-brain start turning. She turns away slightly and digs into the pocket of her jeans pulling out a key. She reaches out to unlock the dorm lobby door.

  “I should go in,” she says, pushing the door. My hand slips from her shoulder and immediately my palm misses her warmth.

  “Will you be okay?” I ask.

  “Sure,” she says. “I’m just gonna go straight to bed.”

  “You know I’ve got your back if you need me, Allyson.” I’ve kept my voice soft because I want her to know she can tell me anything and I’ll treat her gently. She turns to look at me and her eyes gaze into mine with so much worry in them that it takes every last drop of strength in me not to pull her to my chest and wipe away the tears I can see forming in her eyes. I lift a hand to brushes a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. We stare at each other, frozen as we were the night at the restaurant, time passing at a rate that seems both faster and slower than normal. I want to kiss her again but it isn’t the right time. Instead, I pull out my notebook and write down my cellphone number.

  “You can call me anytime, Allyson. Anything happens, or you just wanna talk.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Anytime, Allyson. I mean it. About anything.”

  “I will. If I need to. I promise.”

  She turns and walks through the door, closing it behind her. I wait until the lock clicks into place then jog down the steps to get back in the squad car. It’s instinctive that I look back to check that she’s in safely. Our eyes meet as I gaze back at the dorm. She’s still standing where I left her and I know she must have been watching me get back in my vehicle. I like that.

  She waves quickly and I nod in response. It’s as though neither of us wants to be the first to leave but in the end, Simons clears his throat and I’m forced to turn the ignition and drive so I don’t look like a complete love-struck idiot.

  I imagine her walking up to her little room, in a building that smells of students. She held my number carefully and I wonder what she’ll do with it when she’s finally closed her door. Will she add it to her contacts or just toss it on her desk?

  I hope that she feels safer for having it, but most of all I hope she’ll use it if she needs to. An uneasy feeling remains with me as we attend the next call that comes through on the radio. A feeling that my father would tell me to recognize as instinct.

  9

  ALLYSON

  The lobby smells of laundry detergent and ramen noodles and I shuffle to my dorm room, closing the door behind me. I hold the piece of paper with Cory’s number against my heart. It’s like a key to a safer place. I sit on my bed and slip off my heels, then tap Cory’s number into my cell phone. Just as I’ve finished saving his details, it starts to ring in my hand. It’s a private number and I answer, thinking it’s Rachel calling from home. I’m not really ready to answer the questions she might ask but if I don’t pick up, she’ll only keep calling.

  I swipe to answer the phone and whisper a greeting, expecting Rachel’s voice to reply. Instead, I’m shocked by an angry male voice.

  Drew.

  “If you think you can hide behind your punk cop fake brother you’re dumber than I thought.”

  He sounds absolutely furious, as though his anger a
t the party has been stoked by Cory’s words. It was what I dreaded, and why I’ve been trying to appease him.

  “I’m not hiding,” I insist, trying to keep my voice even. If he hears it break he’ll know how scared I am and it’ll give him more power.

  “He can’t help you, you know. You had your chance to keep everything between us. I wanted you back but you blew it big time.”

  Panic steals my breath. I suck in air, trying to calm my racing heart. I have to say something. I have to try and make him see that what he’s doing is wrong.

  “Drew, you can’t do this anymore.” Anxiety cracks my voice. “Just delete the pictures and I’ll forget any of this ever happened. We’ll just put it down to end-of-relationship bad-blood, okay. It happens.”

  Drew’s breathing sounds furious on the other end of the phone. Maybe that sounded wrong. Does he think I’m mocking him? Or trying to make him sound pathetic? Blood pounds in my head.

  “Shut up,” he says. “You stupid bitch. You think you get any kind of say in what happens next. YOU GET NO SAY, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? You think you can just walk away from me because you want to. I say when it’s over, Allyson. And I haven’t said it’s over.” It sounds as though his teeth are gritted. Everything is falling apart. I should have known things wouldn’t end well when I first told him it wasn’t working out between us. I never imagined he would be so vindictive.

  “Drew, you can’t force me to be with you. That isn’t how it works.”

  “It works, however I say it works,” he growls. “You think you’re just going to walk away and hook up with someone else and I’m going to say nothing about it. You’re mine. Everything from your stupid laugh to your fat ass is mine.”