ARRESTED: A Stepbrother Cop Romance (6 page)

More
than anything I wish he wasn't here, but the threat of revealing the pictures
keeps me rooted to my spot.

"That's
a good girl. If you don't do what I say I'll send those pictures to everyone.
And I do mean everyone. How would your mom feel seeing her little girl tied up
like that?"

I
grimace when his hot breath gusts over me again. Rachel's expression changes to
one of disbelief at my passivity. Her eyes bore into mine questioningly, but
not even Rachel knows the shame I'm trying to hide from everyone.

His
hand squeezes my breast again then he moves his arm down my body and grabs my
wrist. He tugs and I follow, throwing an apologetic look over my shoulder at
Rachel as we disappear into the raucous crowd. The booming music hurts my ears
and makes my head pound in time to the beat. Rachel shakes her head in
response, her eyes still swimming with confusion. She knows that I dumped Drew
so I understand her reaction. If she knew what he was threatening to do, I know
that she’d be laying into him right now. I wish I could find it in me to
confide in her, but the embarrassment is too much. Rachel’s a good girl. She’s
only had one boyfriend in her entire life. She’d think so badly of me if she
knew.

Drew
looks back at me, a half grin twisting his face as he struts through the living
room toward the den, pulling me behind him. I want to punch the smugness right off
him but I’m powerless against his tight grip. I have no idea what I'm going to
do once he has me somewhere quieter. My knees feel like jelly, the fear slowing
me down. He yanks on my wrist dragging me forward. I want to scream at the top
of my lungs, draw some attention and get help, but I can't. If I fight him
he'll release the pictures and my future will disappear into dust.

Before
we get out of the den he stops and pins me to the wall. His lips come down hard
on mine and he pushes his slimy tongue into my mouth. The smugness is there
when he breaks the kiss and looks down at me. My hands are fisted at my sides
but I’m paralyzed. “That’s my girl,” he says roughly grabbing my face. It’s as
though he thinks I enjoyed what he did to me. Or he doesn’t care that I didn’t.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard when I get you upstairs," he growls.
"On top of you so I can see those tits jiggle. From behind so you know
your fucking place."

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.