Violated (24 page)

“I’m simply asking if you’d like to file a petition for a protective order against Victor,” Chavez replied.

“You think he’ll come after me?” Derek asked, as panic rose in him. He hadn’t thought of that. But Victor knew where the cabin was, and he’d been pissed the last time Derek saw him—pissed enough to lash out and file that report with HR.

And then there was the phone message. Derek had finally worked up the courage to listen to it, and it had given him a very bad afternoon. Only after Russ had gotten home from work was he able to pull himself back together. But his instinct to shut off the phone had prevented him from deleting the message. He would have had to listen to it a second time in order to do that.

“Victor left this on my voice mail the weekend after I was fired,” he said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. While Chavez and Russ exchanged looks, Derek dialed his voice mail and put the phone on the table in speaker mode. The moment he heard Victor’s angry voice, he had to restrain himself from flinching.

“Dude! I’m sorry you got fired. I didn’t think they’d take it that far. But for fuck’s sake, Derek, you asked for it! I don’t know why you had to be such a dick about all of this, but I’m sure as shit not gonna wait around for you to take that bullshit to HR! I’ll talk to Mark about hiring you back if you promise to stop acting like a fucking girl. So
call me
.
Now!
”

When the message ended, the electronic voice on the phone gave him the option to delete or save the message. Derek lifted his hand, tempted to delete it, but hesitated. Maybe Chavez would want to keep the message for some reason.

Apparently she did. She snagged the phone away from him and pressed the button to save it.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that?” Russ asked, looking at him sharply. He sounded as if he were barely controlling his anger.

Derek shrugged slowly. “I didn’t listen to it until yesterday. It’s over a week old now.”

“A week isn’t that long ago.”

“It’s not exactly evidence. He doesn’t admit to anything other than being pissed at me and talking to someone—HR—about it.”

“It’s something,” Chavez interjected. “Do you mind if we grab the message and envelope information off the phone? We can do it before you leave. It should only take a minute.”

“I guess that’s okay.”

She turned the phone off and set it on the table close to her. “Has he called since then?”

“A couple times,” Derek admitted, “but he didn’t leave any more messages.”

“Did you speak to him?”

“No.”

“So again,” Chavez said calmly, “would you like a protective order against him?”

“What will that do?”

“Victor will be notified that he’s not allowed to call you, come to the cabin, or approach you when you’re away from the cabin. He has to maintain a distance of at least one hundred yards while the order is in effect. If he violates that, you can call us and we’ll arrest him.”

Derek wasn’t sure if that would do much good. By the time the police got there, Victor could have beaten the snot out of him and taken off. Then again, he wouldn’t be able to go back to work with a warrant out for his arrest. If Victor was smart enough to think it through, that might be enough to deter him.

“How long would it last?”

“The one we file here will be good for twenty-four hours,” she replied. “You’ll have to see the judge tomorrow, at which point we can ask for one that lasts longer. Mr. Salko will have the chance to submit a written appeal, but after that the judge may grant you an order for up to a year.”

The mention of an appeal chilled Derek. “I’ll have to go up against him in court?”

“No. If he appeals, it will be in writing. You won’t have to see him.”

Derek wasn’t reassured. A year wasn’t that long. What would happen then? Would Victor come after him?

Chavez seemed to sense what he was thinking, because she added, “It will let him know the police are watching him. But you should know protective orders aren’t always effective. They’re often violated, and sometimes they can make the situation worse. So it’s entirely up to you.”

The thought of pissing Victor off did make him nervous. What if the bastard decided to come to the cabin?
I had the balls to confront him in the parking lot, didn’t I? Have I become even more of a coward since then?

Fuck it
.

“Fine,” Derek said, wishing he felt as tough as he was trying to act. “I’ll do it.”

“T
HE
GUY
makes 100K a year and he lives in this dump?” Officer Chavez muttered.

It was later that afternoon, and the court had just granted the order. But it wasn’t legally valid until they served it. Russ had parked his cruiser beside hers and met her halfway up the dirt driveway at Victor Salko’s house. Or trailer, to be precise. It wasn’t all that bad, in Russ’s estimation—it was in good shape, had a small front porch added on, and a decent-sized yard around it. No broken-down cars on cinderblocks, no heaps of trash. But it didn’t exactly scream affluence. “Maybe he likes to keep his life simple.”

“Well, he just screwed that up, didn’t he?” Chavez said as she opened her door to get out.

Russ had to smile grimly at that. She hadn’t been thrilled with him coming along. His association with Derek made him an unknown factor when dealing with Victor. But
somebody
had to accompany her—it was against regulations for an officer to go to a scene alone—and it was the type of boring grunt work it was difficult to find volunteers for. The department was also short-staffed. From Derek’s description, Victor was a large man and very strong, so Chavez didn’t get uptight about Russ coming with her, as long as he kept himself under restraint. She’d given him a private lecture before they left the station: no accusations or threats allowed, and no glaring or other attempts to intimidate. They were there to serve Victor with the protective order, make sure he understood, and then leave.

Chavez climbed the wooden steps onto the porch, a small wooden structure with screened windows and a couple of folding chairs, then knocked on the trailer door. There was no immediate answer, but a black monster truck was sitting in the driveway. It seemed likely he was home. Chavez noticed the doorbell and tried ringing that instead.

A few moments later, the door opened and a man stood in the doorway, dressed in a tank top and shorts and looking at them with a baffled expression. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Victor Salko?” Chavez asked.

“Yeah.”

Derek hadn’t exaggerated about Victor’s size. If anything, he’d understated it. Victor was massive. Russ was six feet, so that put Victor at a few inches taller. His shoulders were broad enough to span the doorway, his biceps and thighs were like watermelons, and the nylon shorts did little to conceal his endowment.
Derek said it was huge
.

Victor wasn’t bad-looking. Strong jaw and an aquiline nose. His short, ash-blond hair gave him a military appearance. But Russ didn’t want to find the man attractive. He wanted to hate him. And that wasn’t hard—not when he imagined how helpless Derek had to have felt with this bastard pinning him down.

“Mr. Salko, we’re here to serve you with a protective order,” Chavez went on, holding the envelope up between them. She didn’t shove it at him but waited for him to take it from her. “It was requested by Mr. Derek Sawyer, and the order forbids you to have any contact with him. It also requires you to stay away from his place of residence and vehicle, and to remain more than a hundred yards away from him should you encounter him elsewhere.”

“What the
fuck
? I didn’t do a goddamn
thing
to him!” To Russ’s surprise, Victor seemed honestly perplexed by the whole thing. If he hadn’t trusted Derek to be telling the truth, he might have wondered if there had been some miscommunication between the two men, a pass that hadn’t been well received, perhaps. But Russ did trust Derek, and he’d heard the account of the rape twice now, in great detail.

“We’re not accusing you of anything, Mr. Salko,” Chavez said evenly while Victor removed the order from the envelope and examined it. “We’re just here to serve you the papers. But you should be aware that, if you violate the terms of the order, we will be forced to take you into custody. Do you have any questions?”

Victor looked up from the papers and fixed her with a malevolent glare. A tendon in his cheek twitched as he asked through gritted teeth, “What did he say I did?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not allowed to discuss anything that isn’t in the order itself. As it says in the paperwork, you have five days to file a written appeal with the court. You may wish to consult a lawyer.”

“This is fucking ridiculous!”

Chavez held up her clipboard and her pen. “Please sign this to indicate you received it.”

For a moment Victor looked so incensed Russ was afraid they’d have a problem, but after a brief hesitation, he signed. As he did, Russ caught a whiff of something like old sweat. It took a second for him to realize it was some kind of cheap cologne.

Chavez nodded to him. “Thank you, Mr. Salko. Have a nice day.”

She turned and walked past Russ, clearly expecting him to follow. But as Victor moved to close the door, Russ said, “Mr. Salko?”

Both Victor and Officer Chavez stopped and turned to regard him.

“My cabin is right next to Mr. Sawyer’s. I can see it from my window.”

Victor’s eyes were smoldering. “Good for you.”

“Just thought you should know.”

Victor closed the door hard, and Russ followed Chavez back to the cruisers. She waited until they were standing beside the cars before saying under her breath, “What the fuck was that about? I said no threatening him!”

Russ calmly took out his car keys and unlocked his driver’s side door. “I didn’t threaten him.”

D
EREK
LET
the handles of the shoulder press settle into place and released them, liking the way his deltoids felt energized and enlarged. He felt it throughout his entire body, after doing the circuit of the gym machines. It was a feeling he’d been missing—that rush of power caused by flexing and straining every muscle in his body, the feeling of
strength
. And now there was something new. He’d never needed it before, but he desperately needed it now. The feeling that he was asserting his
ownership
of every single part of his body. It was his to do with as he wanted. Nobody else’s.

He’d been going to the Planet Fitness at a strip mall not far from his cabin for the past several days. The locker room was still a challenge. He felt nervous whenever he was in there with just one other man, especially if the guy was larger than he was. And the showers were a lost cause. He tried showering the first day, but he’d felt too exposed. When another guy walked in, he nearly tripped over himself struggling to rinse and get out of there as fast as possible.

But he didn’t have to shower. Not at the gym, anyway. He could just change out of his gym clothes and drive home, then shower when he got there. If he’d really wanted to, he could have skipped the locker room altogether, wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt on the trip downtown. But he was trying not to coddle himself too much. He was a full-grown man, dammit. He could manage a quick change in the locker room without going to pieces.

Working out had brought about another positive change. His sex drive was returning. Not that he was ready to jump into bed with anyone, but that rush of physical power after the workout sometimes manifested as horniness. It often had, before, but he’d rarely done anything about it, since he usually had to go back to work. Now he could go back to the cabin and lie on his bed for a while before showering, enjoying the feel of sweat on his skin, the masculine smell of it, caressing his chest and abs, gradually sliding downward….

It didn’t always work. But a couple of times he’d managed to keep himself hard long enough to have an orgasm. It felt good. And it felt like progress.

But all the erotic feelings the workout had given him vanished the moment Derek arrived home and saw the smashed windowpanes in his door. It looked as if someone had punched five of them out, but when he rushed up to the door and looked inside, he could see stones lying on the floor amid shattered glass.

“Gracie!”

His dog was nowhere in sight. What if whoever did this had opened the door and hurt her? Or kidnapped her? Panicking, Derek grabbed the knob and found it still locked. He reached a hand in, careful to avoid the broken glass still in the panes, and unlocked it. Then he let himself inside.

“Gracie!”

He heard her whimpering, and his heart leapt to his throat. The sound was coming from the bedroom. He ran into the room, terrified he’d find her battered and bleeding, but as soon as he entered, she ran to him. She was clearly frightened, her head held low, her ears down, and her tail between her legs. But he couldn’t find anything injured when he ran his hands over her. She licked at his face frantically, as if to reassure herself her master was home and she was safe now.

“It’s okay, girl. You’re all right. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

He checked her paws closely to make sure she hadn’t walked in any of the broken glass. There weren’t any bloody paw prints between the door and the bedroom, so he was pretty sure she hadn’t.

It was the thirty-first—Halloween. Vandalism wasn’t exactly unheard of on Halloween night. But during the day? Derek wished he could brush it off that easily, but he couldn’t. It felt too… personal.

It felt like something Victor might do. Or perhaps Tim. Though Tim still had a key, now that he thought about it. If he’d wanted to wreck the place, he probably would have come inside to trash it. More likely, it was Victor trying to scare him. Russ had told Derek about serving the protective order. Victor had been furious.