Banged Up (16 page)

He strode away from her before spinning around to pin her with his stare. “You don’t love me anymore?”

Colby wanted to spit in his face. “No. I haven’t loved you since the first time you blackened my eye.”

“Colby, baby, I apologized for all that. I told you I’d never do it again. I promise.”

She laughed again, almost hysterically.
I promise
. Oh, God, how many times had she heard those empty promises? Well, she had heard them until her ears were ringing from his slaps.

She looked wildly around to the driveway. Her car was there. Inside her car was the gun. And she wanted to blow this son-of-a-bitch away.

She would never make it to the car. Never. She took a deep breath to fortify herself.

“This is my property, Craig. I don’t want you on it.”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Babe, please, you don’t mean it.”

“Craig, I’m warning you. Get the hell off my property before…”

“Before what? What are you going to do? Who’s going to stop me?”

“
Me
.”

That single word—those two little letters—brought a sense of salvation to Colby.

Thank God. Thank you, God! Mace’s deep timbre never sounded so good. She could feel his presence behind her in the open doorway. His strength, his presence, was all she needed. She never needed him as much as she needed him this moment.

She needed him and he was there.
He was there.

“And who the hell are you?” Craig shouted. His chest puffed out and he slammed his hands on his hips, taking a step closer to her.

“Your worst nightmare. Believe me, loser, I’ve dealt with more low-life, scumsucking pigs than you. And guess what? I’ve squashed them like bugs, and if you don’t believe me, just try me. I’ll enjoy breaking every goddamn bone in your pansy ass body.”

Mace stepped around Colby and right into Craig’s face. He blocked her with his body. His voice lowered to a deep grumble. “If you ever,
ever
come or ever even think about coming on this property or bothering Colby again … I swear … you will never walk again. Never. And that’s no idle threat.”

Colby didn’t doubt his words. Apparently, neither did Craig.

For the first time, she saw Craig shrink in fear. She had done it so many times herself. Now the tables were turned.

“Now, you just better get the hell out of here. If I ever see your face again, it’ll be the last time you see mine.” Mace’s words cut like cold steel. Clearly, he was not a man to be messed with.

Colby shuddered listening to the overwhelming strength in those words. She fed off it, causing her to stand straighter and giving her the nerve to look Craig directly in the eyes. “You’d better go, Craig, if you know what’s good for you. Let me make something real clear before you go.
I’m not interested.
Stay out of my life.”

“Yes, I see. You’ve got yourself a new man.” Craig sneered as he backed down the porch steps. If he’d been a dog, his tail would have been tucked between his legs.

They stood silently until he was out of sight.

The silence was tense, though, and violent energy still permeated from Mace’s body.

She waited.

“
Who the fuck was that
?”

Colby recoiled. She couldn’t deal with his anger. Not now. She wanted to clutch him to her and sob until she couldn’t cry anymore.

“Colby! Look at me! Why didn’t you tell me about him? Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I … I didn’t think he’d find me. Or even want to find me.”

Mace stood stiffly, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Unbelievable. What if I hadn’t been here? What then, Colby?”

“Oh, my God.” Her lips trembled. “I don’t know. I was too far away from my gun.”

He shot her an incredulous look. “Your gun? Is that why you have one? Oh, Christ! I mean… I knew someone hurt you. I knew it.” He fumed and stomped around the porch.

“I just didn’t realize it was physically. The sick bastard!” he ground out. “What were you going to do, Colby? Shoot him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You would have killed him if you had the chance.”

“Yes.”

Mace groaned and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and rocking her back and forth. Her body shuddered, stiffened, then finally melted as she sobbed aloud.

“I hate him.”

“I know,” he whispered into her hair. He smoothed his hands up and down her back, hugging her tighter. “He’s gone now.”

“He might come back.” She shivered and sniffled. She was getting his T-shirt damp with her tears. She was acting foolish but she couldn’t help it.

“He won’t. I promise.” Mace placed his lips on her forehead. Colby knew the promise was good, Craig would never come back. She was sure being a federal agent he could “make some calls.” She didn’t care what happened to Craig.

She attempted to wipe her tears away with the back of her hand; he stopped her and brushed them away with his lips. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” He sat down on the top porch step and enveloped her in his arms. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I…” new tears rolled down her cheeks, “was ashamed.”

“You told no one?”

Colby shook her head.

Mace’s jaw clenched, she heard him suck in a breath, then felt the tension suddenly leave his body as quickly as it had come. “Colby, let’s go home.”

I
am
home
, she thought when he held her even tighter.

———

Mace leaned back against the living room couch, his bare feet propped up on the coffee table, the evening news blaring from the TV in the background. Colby sat next to him quietly while he finished scanning the legal document in his hands.

He gave a bitter laugh and threw the PFA onto the table in front of him. “What a fucking joke. You know those protection orders are useless, don’t you? What do they expect you to do? Throw it at him? Give him a paper cut?”

“It’s better than nothing, I guess.” She’d been told the
Protection From Abuse
order would, well,
protect
her. She’d been grossly misled.

“Yeah, shit, it really helped you out today, didn’t it?” He made a fist in his lap.

“Even if you could have dialed 911, he could have seriously hurt you or even kidnapped you before any local donut-lover would have arrived on scene. Those pieces of paper couldn’t stop a bullet.”

“It was stupid of me not to have had my cell phone nearby.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this worse. Don’t blame yourself. You’re doing what you should be: moving on and living your life.”

He picked up his beer bottle from the side table and took one long swig and then one more, before placing it back on the “FBI: Female Body Inspector” coaster. He had said the coasters were a gag gift from his sister when he had graduated from the Academy.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

Without even asking, she knew what he wanted. She leaned over and picked up the folder she had thrown on the floor next to the end of the couch. She offered it to him without a word. He took it and laid it in his lap, not even opening it. Instead, he just studied her face.

“Are these copies or originals?”

“A little of each.”

“Do you really want me to see them?”

“No.”

“But you’ll let me look at them.”

“Yes.”

She grabbed her wine glass from the table by his feet, and she finished off the two swallows left. It was false hope; she didn’t think the alcohol was going to help her get through this. This amounted to picking at a healing wound.

She didn’t want to relive it. He finally tore his gaze away from her face and opened the folder. He picked up the first photo, and Colby looked away. She didn’t need to look at the pictures to remember. All she had to do was close her eyes and she couldn’t forget.

She turned her attention to the TV, trying to concentrate on a news piece about a town councilman getting into hot water.

“
Jesus Christ.
” What started out as a shocked whisper ended up not a minute later an explosive, “That
motherfucker
.”

He whipped the folder across the room, the dozens of photos spilling out of it like confetti all over the carpet. One landed at her feet, and her own face, hardly recognizable due to the swelling and discoloration, stared back at her. Colby closed her eyes, willing back the tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He pushed himself up and went around the room collecting the photos, jamming them back into the folder. He picked the PFA off the coffee table and shoved it into the folder as well, before throwing the whole thing onto the seat of the nearby recliner.

He settled back beside her on the couch, taking another long pull at his beer. “I’m sorry, Colby.”

She wanted to ask him for what, but she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. He was probably sorry she made herself a victim. He was probably sorry she didn’t leave Craig sooner. He was probably sorry she was too weak to protect herself from harm. He might have been sorry she had been so desperate to love somebody she had picked the wrong person. Maybe he was just sorry he lost his temper and threw her folder, her painful reminder, across the room.

“I’m sorry you were hurt like that. I wish I could have known you a lot sooner.” The last was said softly. So softly it tugged strongly at her. She wished she had met him a lot sooner also.

“
Your
battle scars are much worse,” she said.

He hesitated for a few long heartbeats, a little sadness softening his eyes. “I got mine from someone who hated me enough to want me dead. Yours came from someone who was supposed to love you.”

“Maybe we’re all misled.”

“About what?”

“About love. Maybe we’re so desperate for someone’s affections, we see a connection where there isn’t any.”

“Maybe. But I think love’s possible. I think it’s out there for the right people.”

Running a hand down her jaw line, he tucked some escapees from her braid behind her ear. “My parents loved each other deeply. I saw it every day in how they acted and talked to each other. It could have been something as small as just a look between the two. It was enough even a teenage boy would notice. After my father died, my mother was so heartbroken she died not two months later.”

“She died of a broken heart?”

“Something like that.” He cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her.

“I didn’t think it was possible.”

“I’m starting to think it is.” He kissed her lightly, just nudging her lips open, his tongue playing along her teeth and tongue.

She didn’t want to read into his comment. She didn’t want things to become complicated. She didn’t want to admit they had already. She kissed him back, her tongue wrestling with his before she broke away, kissing down his chin. His shadow of a beard was rough against her lips.

—

Colby’s lips moved along his jaw, then her tongue ran a line down his neck, leaving a warm, moist trail.

This was exactly what he needed after this afternoon’s incident. He just needed to get his mind off what might have happened to Colby. If he hadn’t been in the picture…

Shit.

She nipped at where his shoulder met his neck, and he leaned his head against the back of the couch, enjoying every second, giving her every opportunity to do what she wanted with him. He was all hers.

She kissed, nipped and licked here and there over his neck. She pushed his T-shirt up, exposing his chest to continue her teasing pattern over and around his nipples. He leaned forward a bit, grabbed the back of his shirt and ripped it over his head. He tossed it on the recliner, covering that fucking folder. Once again, it reminded him of what might have, could have, possibly happened.

But it hadn’t, and here they were: about to have a little bit of fun with each other. Or a whole hell of a lot of fun with each other, if it was up to him.

He lost his train of thought when she raked her nails lightly over his nipples.

“
Fuck
.” He grabbed the end of her braid as she was diligently rubbing and kissing all over his stomach and chest. He pulled the small elastic band off the end and combed his fingers through the plait, untangling her hair from its confines. He worked his way up while she worked her way down, following the line of his dark hair to the top of his jeans.

The top button was already unsnapped; he’d never finished securing his jeans after his shower earlier.

He caught her looking at him while she slowly unzipped his jeans. He probably looked as dumbfounded as he felt. He felt like he had no blood left in his brain, it had all headed south into his shaft.

Colby sat back suddenly and gave him a stern look. “Take off your pants.” It wasn’t a request. Hell, no, it wasn’t. “Now.”

Damn, if he could get harder than he was … no, it was impossible.

He pushed himself to his feet, catching himself as he lost his balance. His injured thigh was protesting. But he didn’t give a shit. Not tonight.

Tomorrow he would pay for it. But tonight he was getting his money’s worth, even if he had to do PT twice a day for the next week.

He pushed his jeans down to his knees before sitting back on the couch to yank them the rest of the way off, tossing them somewhere into the room. He had gone commando, skipping the boxer briefs tonight in hopes of getting lucky. So he sat there naked, his cock standing like a flagpole. All he needed was someone, preferably the redheaded vixen in front of him, to raise the flag.

His flag raiser wasn’t saying a word. Her eyes had softened momentarily when he’d stumbled, but had quickly gone back to stern. It reminded him of the first night he came home. He pictured her again like the school teacher: stern, prim and proper on the outside, wild as hell on the inside.

She pushed herself off the couch and moved to stand in front of him. She was between his open knees, not touching, though. She stared at him, no smile, eyes serious.

Her expression alone kept him from running his own fist over his aching cock.

A moment later she shook her head. Her hair flew wildly around her shoulders and down her back. She undid her jeans, slipping out of them, but he couldn’t tell if she was wearing any panties since her collared shirt was long enough to cover her halfway down her thighs. But it was still sexy as hell.