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Bound in Blue Page 7
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Page 7
“Please. I just want to be alone,” she begged in that damn voice that made her sound dead.
There was nothing more I could do right now when her pain was still so fresh. Past experience told me she wasn’t ready to listen so I wasn’t going to push it. There was always tomorrow.
I squeezed her shoulder and left the room to set about getting someone from the shelter here to take her in for the night and watch over her.
I slumped against the wall outside the nurse’s station after I hung up the phone and closed my eyes, trying to wash the emotion away that was likely to get the best of me if I didn’t keep it in check. Martha would be all right. I would see to it.
Now to make her husband pay.
Digging my cell phone from the pocket of my coat, I scrolled through the list and found the number I wanted and hit go.
“Katz,” he answered brusquely.
“John. It’s me, Megan. I need you to stop by the women’s shelter tonight and get the statement of Martha Yates. Her husband did a bang up job on her and she needs to press charges.”
He cursed, and I heard papers shuffling. “Why didn’t you follow protocol and let the officers get it when she was brought in?”
“Because that isn’t how I work. She wasn’t ready so I sent them away. Trust me. Once she has time to think on it, she will be. I’ll even meet you there if you tell me what time.”
“I can be there at eight o’clock. Does that work?” His voice held resignation.
I had to work real hard to keep the smile from my voice. He never could say no to me. “Yes. I’ll text you the address. And thanks. She needs someone she can trust there when she does this. Once she finds out who you are to me, she’ll be a little more convinced to trust you.”
“You’re welcome. And let’s hope you’re right. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I returned my phone to my pocket and took a fortifying breath before pushing off the wall and getting back to work. The rest of my shift flew by, with little time to converse with the good Dr. Thompson. Sal and Betty, from the shelter that Martha had previously stayed at, showed up to take her with them. She gave me a tight-lipped smile on their way out. My heart still felt heavy thanks to her predicament, and my fingers and toes were crossed that she’d follow through with pressing charges.
* * *
Stirring the ingredients in the skillet, I swayed my hips to Justin Timberlake, who was in fact bringing sexy back. I bounced over to the radio and turned the volume up so that the music filled the room.
Last night, I sat and held Martha’s hand as she recounted her husband’s reign of terror over her and how it ended so violently. John assured us that a warrant would immediately be put out for his arrest.
The rest of the night was spent holding her while she cried. Once she fell asleep, I slipped out to get some sleep of my own. First thing this morning I returned with donuts for all the women staying at the shelter.
After spending the day with them, I returned home to make Mack and me dinner. I was anxious to lose myself in him and release the tension that had built up the last two days without seeing him.
I was singing along with Timbaland about getting my sexy on when a loud “Yeah!” made me jump. I whipped my body around to see Mack had arrived early. Not missing a single beat, his body rolled and his ass shook as he sang along to the song and slowly started unbuttoning his shirt.
It was a tantalizingly slow process that made my knees buckle, my breathing labored and my panties wet. Why was he taking so long? Seriously, this was going to kill me. I was practically drooling. I braced my hand on the counter and watched with wide eyes and rapt attention.
“You ready?” He asked in sync with the lyrics of the song. Before I could respond, he pulled his shirt apart, revealing his gorgeous chest. I ached to bury my nose in his delectable chest hair and nuzzle him. And then maybe lick every ridge and bump. Mmmm… yes that would be most enjoyable.
Continuing with his striptease, he pulled the shirt off and tossed it in my face. I caught it and tried not to be too obvious when I held it close to my face so that I could experience his scent on the fabric.
I was thoroughly enjoying this carefree and playful side of him; even if it was turning me on beyond belief.
Next came his belt buckle. He slowly removed the prong from the hole in the brown leather. What felt like a million years later, he pulled the belt through the loops, and it landed with a thud on the floor.
His hand hovered over the button of his jeans—teasing me—while his ass shook perfectly. He even spun around so I could take it in in all its glory.
The song ended far too soon, seeing as how his pants were still on. He turned back and prowled towards me. The only thing holding up his jeans was the last two buttons. His happy trail beckoned me to follow it and enjoy the pot at the end of that rainbow.
“You want me to whip you if you misbehave? Is that why you were enjoying the song so much?” His head cocked to the side, and his playful grin made an appearance. The timber of his voice—all rough and low—made chills run down my spine.
One of his arms angled across my back while the other tightened around my waist, effectively putting my body flush with his.
“I thought you said no whips and chains,” I teased breathlessly. Being this close and smelling his manly scent made my head fuzzy.
“Mmmm.” His lips teased mine. “So I did.”
And then he was kissing me. Within minutes, the heat of the kiss escalated and pulled me under. Our tongues tangled, and our hands roamed. When he slowed the kiss and peppered me with tiny pecks on my cheek, my jaw, and the tip of my nose, I felt disappointment take over. I had really thought that he’d fuck me after his little striptease.
Finally, he smacked my ass and said, “Finish making dinner woman. It smells like it might be burning.”
I jumped at the reminder of the forgotten food, I spun around to tend to the potato and vegetable medley in the pan. “Shit,” I mumbled when some of the food stuck to the bottom of the skillet.
The top of a bottle popping let me know that Mack was making himself at home. I turned the heat on a pan filled with oil and started to prep the chicken tenders for frying.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Fried chicken,” I informed him.
“Boneless chicken?” He queried as he leaned into a hip at the counter next to me, taking a pull from his beer.
“I don’t do chicken with bones,” I informed him.
His chuckle irked me, but I ignored him. The last thing I wanted was for him to ruin my good mood.
“So not even Kentucky Fried Chicken? What about chicken wings?” He picked at the food in the pan as he watched me place the breaded chicken in the oil.
“Nope. Not unless I’m really drunk,” I clarified. “Then I might eat a chicken wing or two. Something about my teeth being close to a bone completely freaks me out.”
He laughed at that. “You do realize that you’re a doctor? And I would almost bet that you’ve seen people’s exposed and bloody bones while working on them. Yet you can’t stand the thought of a chicken’s bones?”
“Yes, but I’m not putting my mouth on them either.” A shudder worked its way up my spine at the thought.
“Duly noted.”
“Are you seriously going to stand there mostly naked while I cook with hot, splattering oil?” The sight of his chest was hell on my resolve to finish dinner.
He looked down at himself and shrugged. “What’s the point in getting dressed just to take them off again in a little bit?”
I shook my head, but still smiled as his hand idly stroked the delectable bared flesh of his chest. I liked how straight up Mack always was. I typically knew what I was getting with him. No pretenses. I didn’t have to guess about what we were doing or what we were going to be doing. And I really couldn’t wait to find out what he planned for the night.
“Mind if I check out the game while you finish dinner? I haven’t been able
to catch the Mets and Nationals series yet this weekend.” His voice pulled me from erotic visions of being stretched out over the marble island while he drizzled caramel sauce all over me before licking every last drop away. I’ve been wanting to do that again since the last time was so damn hot… and sticky sweet.
“Go ahead. Dinner will be ready in twenty.” My eyes ogled his very fine ass as he walked out of the room. I turned to the stove with a very feminine sigh of appreciation and finished cooking dinner.
With plates piled high, we sat at the table in the kitchen and ate in a companionable silence.
Mack took a sip of his beer before studying me intently. “Talked to John today,” he said with no preamble as if we were in the middle of a conversation and not starting one.
“Okay.” I wiped my mouth and waited for him to continue.
“Why didn’t you call me?” He sounded slightly affronted by the thought that I called John before him.
I shrugged, not really sure why I did. “It wasn’t like I called Jacob either?” I pointed out unnecessarily.
“You aren’t sleeping with Jacob,” he sneered. “Or John for that matter. Right?”
“Of course. You know that,” I angrily defended myself.
“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Look I don’t want to fight. I just wish you would have called me. I would have handled it. All you need to do is ask, and I’ll do whatever I can for you.”
The wind left my sails knowing he was wounded because I chose someone else over him. I probably would have felt the same way had he gone to another doctor over me.
“It wasn’t intentional. I’m just used to John helping me. I’ve known him forever.”
“I know.”
“You do?” I had never explained the extent of my connection with John. Then it dawned on me that John had been sharing, and a panic started to set in about what information Mack now knew.
“You ready to talk about this now?” His eyebrow quirked up, and it was like he was looking right through me. Thank heavens he gave me an out. I wasn’t ready for that particular discussion.
“No. I don’t want to discuss my past.”
“I figured as much. Look, Ted Yates is a bad dude. Arrested multiple times for assault and battery. Couple of uniforms went to pick him up today and he was gone—wind. Want you to keep your eyes open if you’re going to be visiting his wife. Until we catch him, no saying what an asshole like him will do.”
“I know to be careful,” I defended myself. “This isn’t my first rodeo with a jerk off husband who gets his kicks out of abusing women.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to warn you. Bad shit happens all the time to people who don’t deserve it. Innocent bystanders get hurt every day. I’ve seen a lot of shit in this line of work that I wish I hadn’t.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled perfectly chastised. “I’ll keep a lookout.”
“Good.” He pushed his plate away from himself and across the table. “Now if you’re done eating I want my dessert.”
My mouth immediately went dry and between my legs went wet. Amazing how he could do that with just a few words.
“Come.” He crooked a finger at me. I rose and walked around the round table until I was standing in front of him. He slowly divested me of my clothes before laying me out on the table. And then he proceeded to eat his dessert. Once he was done, I ate mine. I must say it was delicious.
Chapter Eight
I juggled the cleaning supplies in my hands and reached for the ringing phone in my back pocket. I smiled when I saw the name flashing on the screen.
“Hey,” I answered tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“You working today?” Kara asked over the line.
“Nope. I worked a double yesterday so I’m off today. Why?” I walked down the stairs to the first floor and rounded the corner heading towards the kitchen.
“Awesome! Want to go to the gun range with me?” Kara’s voice bubbled with excitement. I could picture her in my mind’s eye bouncing in her seat and clapping her hands with unconcealed enthusiasm.
A glance at the clock and then a sweep over my dirty cleaning clothes told me I’d need time to get ready before going out in public. “What time were you thinking of going?”
“In a couple of hours. Jacob’s going to take us. He’s been promising to take me for a long time. I can’t wait.”
“Maybe you two should go alone and spend the day together,” I suggested.
“Nope. I was told I could bring a friend and I want to bring you.” She paused and then continued in a lower tone, “It will be fun. Besides if anyone can understand my need to protect myself it’s you.”
There was no way I could say no to her after that. Kara had come so far since the attack she sustained at the hands of a serial killer. And I did know what she meant. After Rachel was murdered, I put myself through several levels of defensive training classes. I had even shot a gun a time or two with John back in Virginia. Not only was self-protection important to me, it was also a fun way to spend some time.
“If you’re sure, then I would love to go.”
“Yay!” She shrieked in my ear loudly. “We’ll pick you up at two. Jacob’s bringing a bunch of guns so no worries there. Oh and I guess the place is outside so dress accordingly. I’ll see you then.”
“Sounds good. Bye.”
“Bye,” she chirped and disconnected the call.
I pocketed my cellphone and jogged upstairs to get ready to shoot some guns.
* * *
The ride out to the shooting range was full of country roads with twists and turns. Why we were driving almost forty-five minutes through Maryland instead of going to one closer to the city was beyond me.
Content just to listen to the classic rock coming from the speakers, interspersed with Jacob and Kara’s soft murmurs, I closed my eyes and let the wind through the open windows blow through my hair.
The shooting range was in the middle of nowhere—literally nothing but acres and acres of wooded land for as far as the eye could see. We paid for our access inside a dilapidated building that was crammed full of crap. There were boxes just about everywhere, making my fingers itch with the need to organize it all. The place smelled musty and the old man and woman working moved at a snail’s pace.
I shot Kara a questioning look as we waited for the woman to bring us the targets we purchased. She just shrugged and bit her lip to stifle a giggle. This place made me anything but comfortable, but if Jacob was okay with it, I guess I could be okay with it.
Finally armed—no pun intended—with our targets, guns and ammunition, we walked down a gravel road to another building. This one was just as old as the first and in need of some TLC. It was open on one side with a long ledge running along it for you to shoot from. The other side had chairs lined along it to sit, along with a bucket of ear mufflers and goggles. Outside of the building was an open area with grass and trees. There were several stands set up that Jacob attached targets to.
“Have you ever shot before?” He asked me as he dug through the cases he was lugging. He unearthed a .45 pistol along with two .22 caliber pistols.
“Yes. I’ve gone a few times with John.”
“Good.” He stepped closer and gave me a brief rundown of one of the .22’s. He showed me how to load it and where the safety was. “Any questions?”
“Nope.” I tested the feel of the gun out before setting it down and grabbing a pair of goggles and ear mufflers.
“Always keep the gun pointed down range,” Jacob instructed Kara. “Whether the gun is loaded or not, whenever someone is out there, slip this plastic line through the chamber and barrel. The line will ensure that the gun can’t go off. It also signals to others that it’s safe for them while they are out on the range.”
Kara nodded and wiped her hands nervously on her shorts. It reminded me of how sweaty and scared I was to have such a powerful weapon under my control the first time I went with John. It felt like
a million years ago.
Jacob continued his instruction of loading the gun and putting on the safety immediately afterwards. Then he stepped behind her and showed her how to hold it and line up her shot. He murmured low in her ear, and she gave him a soft, knowing smile.
I quickly turned away, not wanting to intrude on their personal moment. What I wouldn’t have given in that moment to have Mack’s warm, strong body pressed tightly to mine while he whispered in my ear.
God, I needed to stop with the delusional fantasies about Mack. I was worse than a lovesick teenager some days.
Several minutes later, Kara was ready to attempt her first shot. Jacob stepped back and to the side as she raised the gun, turned off the safety, lined up the sights and squeezed the trigger. Both the recoil and sound startled her to the point that she jumped back and emitted a little shriek. Jacob and I immediately burst into laughter at the sight. Man I wish I had thought to record that.
“It’s not that funny.” Kara crossed her arms and steamed at us after several minutes of us laughing at her expense. “Seriously, it isn’t,” she continued when we burst into another fit of laughter.
“Oh, Sunshine, it was more than funny. It was fucking hysterical. If you could have seen yourself, you would have thought so too.” He kissed the side of her head and slapped her ass on his way past her. She acted put out, but you could tell she wasn’t really upset.
Picking up the pistol Jacob had given me, I readied myself and let off six shots in succession—all landed in the black of the target, three close but not quite the bull’s eye.
Jacob let out a low whistle while Kara stared at me with a slack jaw and awe in her eyes. I shrugged and reloaded the clip.
“Um, you didn’t say you were good, Megan,” Kara accused me good-naturedly.
“I’m not really.” I played it down. I was a decent shot, but far from perfect.
“How many times have you shot before?” She asked.