CHAPTER NINETEEN

WHEN SHE HEARD the raised voices, Margo finished tousling her damp hair and hurried from the bathroom. She’d quickly bathed and dressed as best she could in simple clothes that worked with her splint. So far, the shirt Dash had altered for her was the easiest. She paired it with slim jeans and ankle boots. A little mascara, a little highlighter and she’d considered herself prepped enough for the day.

Until she’d heard the arguing.

She was still adjusting her sling when she rounded the corner and saw...“Dan.” Collecting herself, putting on her game face, she narrowed her eyes a tiny bit and gave a tight smile. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped around Dash and Logan. “I heard what happened, so naturally I came to check on you.” His attention went all over her. “Jesus, Margaret.”

She touched the lingering bruise on her cheek, but her hair covered the stitches on her forehead. The sling, well... “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks... Well, thank God you’re okay.”

Reese rested against the wall, a look of bored contempt on his face. “I made that call for you, Lieutenant. You’re all set.”

“Thank you.”

As always, Logan remained professional, but she recognized the brimming anger in his bearing. What had happened?

“Why are you here, Dan?”

Encompassing everyone in his discontent, Dan cast a quelling glance around the room. “When you didn’t return my call, I got concerned.”

Dash stationed himself beside her. It was mean, and a little childish, but to annoy Dan she smiled up at Dash in a lover’s welcome, then leaned on his hard shoulder. “Well, as you can see, I’m in good hands.”

Dan took that on the chin. His jaw flexed and his lip curled. “Yes, well, I need to speak with you.”

She took great pleasure in saying, “Oh, but I’m running late for my doctor’s appointment.” Narrowed eyes took any goodwill from her smile. “I get the splint off today.”

“That’s actually what I want to talk to you about.”

For about five seconds she gave it thought, then turned to Dash. “Why don’t you go finish dressing so we can leave? I don’t want to be late.”

To her relief, he didn’t argue. “Be right back.”

Next—tackling her detectives. “Well.” She faced each of them, but knowing Logan would be the most difficult, she focused on him. “I appreciate it that you came by. Thank you for everything.”

“They were doing their damned jobs,” Dan barked.

“Yes,” Margo agreed, anxious to know what had Dan so surly. Usually he took great pride in professional decorum. “That, and more.”

He straightened, taking an imposing stance. To her surprise, he volunteered the info. “I demanded to see you when I arrived, and they refused to get you.”

Demanded? She glanced at Logan in question.

Logan’s icy respect left a chill in the room. “We explained to you that she was getting dressed.”

Still shrugging into his shirt and carrying his shoes, Dash came back in. Wow, he’d dressed, washed and cleaned his teeth in record time. He hadn’t bothered with a shave, but honestly, she liked the way he looked so rugged and rough. Even here and now, with her commander breathing fire, her home the scene of a crime, the stench of kerosene thick in the air, she wanted him.

The idea that she’d always want him scared her a little.

Maybe everything was starting to build up, but she gave a twittering laugh that sounded nothing like her usual starched self—as evidenced by the way everyone looked at her with wary concern.

Patting Dash’s chest, she asked, “Did you run the entire time?”

“Yup.” He hopped as he pulled on one shoe, and then the other. “And now I’m ready. You?”

Yes, more than ready. But she needed to clear house first. “Logan, Reese, thank you again. I look forward to hearing an update.”

The detectives didn’t like it, but they refrained from arguing.

Next she turned to the commander. “Dan, as you can see—”

“They won’t be reporting to you.”

That blunt statement landed like a slap. Margo never broke eye contact with him. He was a bully of the worst kind, and she knew it. She refused to blink. She refused to speak. Never would she show him a weakness.

The staring contest ended when Dan broke. “You’re out of it, Margaret.” He tried for a gentle tone that lacked validity. “Effective immediately.”

Her smile let him know that wouldn’t go unchallenged. “Detectives, I’ll talk with you later. Rowdy, Dash, if you’ll excuse me a moment...”

Rowdy stood and walked out front with Logan and Reese. Dash crossed his arms and stood his ground. By look and stance he made it very clear he wouldn’t budge.

And again she wanted to laugh.

God, very little in her life right now was funny. But he so easily lifted her spirits and made stuff that would normally feel overwhelming seem very small and insignificant.

Dan gave Dash a burning glare.

“He can stay,” she decided. “This won’t take long.”

That seemed to alarm Dan. And with good reason.

Margo stepped away from Dash and moved closer to Dan. “I have agreed—on my own, without your command—to remove myself for the weekend. If someone is trying to kill me, an innocent could get caught in the cross fire.”

“Him?” Dan asked, nodding toward Dash.

“He can handle himself.” True. She realized it, but that didn’t make her any less worried. Love had that effect, she guessed.

“Who the hell is he exactly?”

Mine, she wanted to say, but settled on, “None of your business.”

His lip curled with jealousy. “Meaning, it’s personal?”

“Oh, yes.” With a wealth of satisfaction, she said, “Very personal.” Still walking, she circled Dan.

He turned so that she wouldn’t be at his back.

Smart.

When she glanced up, she caught Dash smiling. “I was talking about pedestrians on the road who might catch a stray bullet meant for me.”

“Jesus, you think someone would do that?”

She shrugged, embellishing since it served her to do so. “Why not? A few days ago someone T-boned me. During the night someone planned to barbecue me. I’m sensing a pattern. How should I know the limit of their sickness?”

He verbally pounced. “This is exactly my point—”

“No.” With mock regret, she shook her head. “Your point is, and always has been, to try to take advantage of me.”

Alarm sharpened his tone. “Margaret.”

“Don’t worry. Dash already knows the sordid details.”

Astonishment swung Dan around to snarl at Dash—which affected Dash not at all.

He continued to look insolent and stalwart. And sexy.

Definitely sexy.

“Why?” Dan asked through his teeth, his big hands curling and uncurling. “You agreed to never mention it.”

“And you,” she said in a raised voice, stepping up to meet his anger, “agreed to stay the hell out of my way!”

Dan breathed hard as they stared at each other, and before Margo even realized he’d moved, Dash inserted himself in front of her, then eased her back.

In an offhand, unconcerned way, he said, “Just to be safe, since he’s sort of fuming there, and you’re not exactly looking peaceful.”

“This is bullshit.” Dan turned away, but jerked right back around again. “You think I’d strike her?”

“I don’t know you—but she does.” Dash remained loose and relaxed. “I know she’s fair and honorable, but she doesn’t like you. Sort of tells me a lot, ya know?”

Seeing he had a losing battle, Dan tried a new tack. “Margaret, you are too damn close to this case and you know it.”

“Why?” She stepped from behind Dash. “Because it reminds me of another case?”

“No!” His gaze shifted nervously. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. This is completely different.”

“There are definite differences—like the taping and selling of rapes on video.”

Dan rubbed his forehead. “Sick.”

“Yes.” Funny, but that’s almost exactly what her father had called it. “But women are still being abused. So you know I want to stay involved.”

Snarling again, Dan knotted his hand in his silver hair and took three long steps away before turning to face her again. “I am still the commander.”

“You should be satisfied with that.” She went to the door and held it open and, having that settled, she said with amicable politeness, “Thank you again for stopping by, Dan. Your concern is appreciated.”

Impotent fury showed in every line of his posture. “This isn’t over.”

“Yes, it is.”

He stormed out, not bothering to speak to Logan and Reese, who loitered on the front porch, or Rowdy, who stood right by the door, his shoulder propped on the doorjamb.

Had he heard it all? She wouldn’t be surprised.

She heard the squeal of tires as Dan sped from her driveway. Dash leaned down to her ear. “I am so horny for you right now.” And he stroked her bottom suggestively. “The hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

Absurd...but damn it, she laughed. Again.

Every other man she knew would have called her a ballbuster, a tyrant, and much, much worse for how she’d dealt with the commander. But not Dash.

No, he liked it when she got autocratic. That complete and utter acceptance made her want him, too.

What had happened to her lethal edge?

But she already knew. Sexy, controlling Dashiel Riske had happened.

Would she ever again be the same?

* * *

IT SUCKED THAT she hadn’t invited him in to see the doctor with her. He understood—their intimate relationship was still fairly new, despite all the time he’d put in trying to soften her up. If it hadn’t been for that damn wreck, she might still be shutting him out.

But he had made headway, damn it. Today, she’d accepted him as she’d faced off with her commander.

God, she’d been...incredible. Ballsy, yes; Lieutenant Margaret Peterson backed down from no man.

But she’d also been clever and righteous. And proud.

Could a woman be any hotter than that? More appealing? She was his. He’d make it so.

Some sick fuck wanted to hurt her.

Dash squeezed his eyes shut and said a few prayers. Sitting in the waiting room gave him too much time to think about all the problems, all the threats against her, and all the ways he wanted to keep her safe—while also supporting her in any way she needed.

Reese was right that he would never have been happy with a meek woman. But damn, Margo was a challenge.

Pacing didn’t help much, but he did it anyway. He needed this current situation resolved so he could concentrate solely on loving her—and getting her to love him in return.

* * *

THE RECEPTIONIST KEPT smiling at him. Dash nodded back and did more pacing.

A female patient, mid-twenties, tracked his every move. He ignored her suggestive staring.

Once he got Margo alone in his new cabin, where they could talk without interruptions, he would convince her to move in with him long-term. She’d be safer at his place. It was more secure—and she wouldn’t be alone.

Forever would suit him, but he didn’t want to rush her. At least, not more than he already had.

When the door leading to the patient rooms opened, Dash turned...and saw Margo striding out. It took no more than one look at her set face to see her distress.

The splint was gone, so what had happened?

He held back while she took care of paperwork with the receptionist, then held open the exit door for her when she angrily marched his way.

They were just leaving the building when he finally broke the silence. “Everything go okay?”

“No.”

Whistling under his breath, Dash kept pace with her. “Bad news?”

Stoic, as always, she flexed both hands. “Nothing I can’t deal with.”

Damn, he could guess the problem. The splint was gone, but apparently that wasn’t the end of it as she’d hoped. He opened the passenger door to the rental. “You didn’t get clearance?”

“No, I didn’t. Not yet.” She slid in and pulled the door shut, leaving Dash standing there.

Prickly. But he could deal with that.

On a sigh, Dash circled the hood and got behind the wheel. He didn’t start the car. Not yet. “You plan to ignore the doc’s orders.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s my body, damn it. I know how I feel and what I’m capable of.”

He watched her for a moment, then decided to hell with it. She could be as disgruntled as she wanted. He wouldn’t just accommodate her, though.

Smoothing back her hair, he checked her forehead. The stitches were out and the scar would be minimal. “You got the splint off.” He brushed the back of his knuckles over her warm cheek. “Can’t you take it one step at a time?”

“Of course I can.” She half turned to face him, her expression speculative as she looked him over. “My next step is to go see Yvette Sweeny and her grandfather. I have questions that need answers.”

“That’s on the agenda.” He’d already gotten directions from Logan on where the young lady lived.

“Afterward we’ll need to go back to my house so I can get Oliver and a few necessities for the weekend.”

Hearing her say it, knowing he’d have her all to himself for a few days, made his thighs tense and his gut coil. “Not a problem.”

Hearing the huskiness in his voice, she smiled with sensual resolve. “And then...” Her hand slid inside the collar of his shirt so she could touch bare skin. She stared up into his eyes. “We’ll go to this cabin of yours.”

Damn, she seduced him so easily. But then, he’d been on a hair trigger for a while around her. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Mmm. Me, too.” She leaned over to him, lightly kissed his mouth. “You have a few promises to keep and I’m going to see to it that you do.”

“I promise to give it my best effort.”

She shivered—and retreated to her own seat. “Let’s go.”

Smiling, he put the car in gear and drove out of the lot. Margo liked being bossy, Dash knew. She was trying to take control of this situation. And she had a lot of frustrations to work out. He could handle it. He could handle her.

Or so he thought.

Now that she had both hands, she used them. Continually.

Whatever teasing he’d done to her...she repaid tenfold.

She’d already touched him repeatedly—his chest, his abs, over his thighs.

But now, as her fingers slipped dangerously close to his fly, Dash gripped the steering wheel. He was so primed already it was all he could to keep from getting a boner. “I’m going to wreck if you keep that up.”

“I’ll worry about keeping it up later. Right now I’m more interested in getting it up.” Her palm slid over him, once, twice.

He stiffened his arms, breathed a little faster.

She measured his length...and purred. “There we go.”

Shit. He tried a deep breath but it didn’t help much. His heartbeat punched. “We’ll be there in under five minutes.”

“I’ll give you two to recover.” She pressed lower, cupping his balls gently. “That gives me three more to play.”

Oh, God. He shifted, but no matter what he did, she stayed with him.

“It’s so nice that I have two hands now. Reaching you with my right wouldn’t be easy. But my left?” She demonstrated, stroking over him as if the denim of his jeans didn’t exist.

He locked his jaw until he thought he could speak coherently. “Your elbow doesn’t hurt?”

As if to think about it she pursed her mouth...and continued the tantalizing movement of her hand on his cock. “No, not really. It’s stiff, and I think I’ve lost some mobility.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be—”

“The doc said I should use it as much as was comfortable. No heavy lifting or anything like that. But this?” She brought her curved hand up to the head, using her fingernails to graze him, then teased her way back down to the base again. “This isn’t uncomfortable at all. At least, not for me.”

Stringing words together wasn’t easy. “If that’s so, then why didn’t he clear you?”

“Who the hell knows?” Under her breath, she whispered, “I can’t wait to get you out of your pants so we can try this again.” And then, as if she hadn’t just said something guaranteed to finish him off, she said, “The doctor wants to see me again in a few weeks and he said he could probably clear me then.”

They were almost to the house, so Dash caught her wrist with utmost care. “That’s enough, baby. You promised me two minutes.”

She let out a sigh. “I suppose it’s only proper. Can’t very well interview a young lady with you sporting that.” She trailed one finger down his still-excited dick. “Then again, you could maybe wait in the car—”

“No.” Once more, he removed her hand. “Behave.”

“Or what?”

He did a quick double take, and caught on to her game. “Or I’ll have to do my own payback. And it’s guaranteed you can take a whole lot more than I can, so my payback would last longer than yours.”

She grew quiet as they pulled down the street and Dash started watching the addresses to find the right house.

“Dash?”

“Hmmm?” He was slowly recovering, but it took a lot of concentration. Knowing she wanted him was as stimulating as her touch had been.

He spotted the right house just as she whispered, “I really enjoy this.”

That got his attention. He slowed and pulled up in front of the curb. “This?”

“Playing around with you. Teasing. The sex.”

Damn, she knew how to throw him off guard. “You don’t say?”

She nodded. “Even talking with you. It’s all fun. And exciting.”

So she enjoyed being with him. He smiled. “I love it, too.”

She bit her lip, her gaze searching. He knew his repeated use of the L word kept her confused. Eventually, he hoped, she’d get used to it.

“Thank you for going to the doctor’s with me.”

“My pleasure.” He meant that.

“Now that I’m out of the splint, I can do my own driving.”

He didn’t like that idea worth a damn, but she didn’t give him a chance to say so.

“I know you have a job, your own life to live. But I wanted you to know...” She seemed to have a hard time coming up with the right words.

Dash just waited.

“I’m happy to keep seeing you. Even after this weekend, I mean. That is, if you—”

Dash leaned across the seat and took her mouth. He kept the kiss warm, firm, but not too consuming, considering they sat in front of a victim’s house. He opened her seat belt, cupped her waist in his hand and finally eased up. One more peck, and he moved back to his seat. “I do.” Definitely.

This weekend, he’d make sure she understood just how much.

* * *

YVETTE DIDN’T REMEMBER the rims. Or if she did, she didn’t want to say so. She and her grandfather were literally holed up, the front door locked and barricaded, all of the curtains drawn.

Tipton, her grandfather, rested in an easy chair, still trying to heal. He was a tough guy, doing his best to give a show of strength for his granddaughter, but anyone could see that Yvette was still terrified.

She was a very pretty girl, Margo thought. Long dark hair, a very pretty face and a slender body with noticeable curves. No doubt she had her fair share of boyfriends chasing after her.

But now, after what she’d endured, the awful threat of rape, death, burning...would she ever be the same?

During her questions, Margo tried to be brusque, impartial, but she didn’t have it in her. When Yvette said, yet again, that she didn’t remember anything else, Margo sat close to her.

Dash, showing a lot of consideration, moved closer to the grandfather, conversing quietly.

Margo took the younger woman’s hands. “I’m so very sorry for what happened, Yvette.”

The girl nodded, her gaze averted.

“I’m sure Detective Bareden told you that officers will be doing more frequent drive-bys until we catch the men who terrorized you.”

“Yes.”

Clearly Yvette also knew that didn’t assure her safety. And Margo, much as she’d like to, wouldn’t make guarantees to the girl that she couldn’t keep. “Detective Bareden is a man of his word. He and Detective Riske will be working very hard to get the animals who threatened you.”

Drawing a slow, deep breath, Yvette freed her hands—and faced Margo. “I know. They’re...nice men.”

“Yes, they are.” Folding her hands in her lap, Margo tried to put the girl at ease. “They’re also very honorable and excellent at what they do.”

Swallowing hard, Yvette dared a quick peek at Dash. “I wish there was something more I could tell you.”

“Oftentimes, after things have settled down, something will come to mind. It could be anything. No matter how insignificant, please share with us. You’d be amazed at what turns out to be important.”

That made Yvette thoughtful. Chewing her bottom lip, she again peeked at Dash. Clearly men now made her nervous. She had seen things no girl her age should have to see.

Things no one human should have to see.

When the knock sounded on the door, Yvette almost came out of her seat. She gasped and her eyes rounded. Margo put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Yvette. You aren’t alone.”

The grandfather narrowed his eyes and stared at the door as if he expected someone to break it in.

She nodded at Dash. He went to the front window, eased aside the curtain, and smiled. “It’s Cannon.”

The way Yvette reacted, going boneless with relief but also brightening, gave Margo pause. Maybe all men didn’t worry her after all.

They could hear a quiet conversation between Dash and Cannon before both men appeared in the living room. Margo realized she was staring as openly as Yvette. Either of the men alone made an impressive sight. Together...well, it was testosterone overload.

Cannon was too young for her to look at seriously, and with Dash next to him, well, Margo could appreciate him—but she wanted Dash, and only Dash.

Yvette, however, looked as if the sun had just come out and shone specifically on her.

Mr. Sweeny struggled to sit a little more upright in his chair before Cannon waved him back and came farther into the room.

Hands on his hips, Cannon looked at grandfather and then granddaughter. “Have you eaten?”

Yvette watched him with big adoring eyes. “He ate some canned soup.”

“And you?” Cannon came over and crouched down in front of her. “What did you eat?”

“Nothin’,” her grandfather said. “She’s still too upset to eat.”

“Grandpa!” Blushing, Yvette said to Cannon, “We didn’t know you were coming by.”

“I called,” Cannon told her with a frown. “Where’s your phone?”

“Oh.” She looked toward the kitchen. “I left it in there.”

“Excuse us a minute,” he said to Margo. He took Yvette’s hand, pulled her up from the couch and led her into the kitchen.

Slowly coming to her feet, Margo watched it all with raised brows and a little disbelief. With Cannon, Yvette seemed more like a love-struck young lady than a recovering victim.

She glanced at the grandpa, and saw him smiling after them.

Near her ear, in a low hush, Dash said, “I wonder if Cannon knows what he’s doing.”

She hoped so, and decided to leave him to it. “We’ll be on our way now.”

Cannon returned, now holding Yvette’s phone as he put in a number. “Speed dial,” he told her. “You hit number one and it’ll dial me. Got that?”

“Yes.”

He said to Mr. Sweeny, “If anything happens, if anything doesn’t seem right, call me.”

“Those detectives told us the same thing.”

Cannon nodded. “Sure, that’d work, too.”

Twisting her mouth, Margo tried not to snort. “Gee, thanks, Cannon.”

He still looked far too serious as he explained, “I mean, if someone actually bothers you, call the cops first.” He tipped up Yvette’s chin. “But if anything spooks you, even if you know it’s not a real threat, well, then I can be here in no time.”

“You’d do that?” Yvette asked.

His touch lingered. “Sure.”

Mr. Sweeny pressed a hand to his ribs and nodded. “I appreciate it, Cannon. It’s going to take a little while to stop watching shadows and jumping at every little sound.”

“You make me sound like a baby, Grandpa.”

Margo smiled. “Not so. Anyone would be jumpy after what you went through. I’d say you’re handling it remarkably well.”

“Especially,” Mr. Sweeny said, “with them swearin’ they’d be back.”

Yvette shuddered.

Knowing she should go, Margo reached out for Yvette’s hand. “Remember, anything at all, call. Okay?”

It took a minute, and then Yvette said, “There is one thing.”

Everyone became more alert.

“It’s probably nothing. And I...I’m not sure. But I think two of them were brothers.”

Brothers? “What makes you think so?”

“They... I don’t know. They looked a little alike, and the way they talked to each other. It was different from the other guy.”

“Different from the man with the goatee?” Cannon asked.

“Yes. They...joked about what they were doing. The other man, he was darker and seemed... I don’t know.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “They were all disgusting. But the dark guy just seemed to be more serious about it.”

Cannon slipped an arm around her shoulders and that encouraged her to keep going.

“He treated it like it was his job, but the brothers just did it because they could.” She rubbed her forehead. “I know that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Actually,” Margo told her, “it does. And if they are brothers, it might help us to track them down.” She smiled, hoping to reassure Yvette. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll share with my detectives and we’ll see what we can turn up. You have my number, so if you think of anything else, call me.”

“I will.”

Cannon said, “I’ll walk you out.”

“You’re leaving?”

The stricken note in Yvette’s voice broke Margo’s heart.

“No. I’m going to stick around for about an hour.” Cannon pulled on a stocking cap. “I’ll be right back in.”

As they stepped out, Cannon pulled the door shut behind him, ensuring they could speak privately. Both he and Dash surveyed the area, on the lookout, cautious.

She’d already done the same herself. It was an older neighborhood, the streets lined with sedans and pickups. Cracks split the aged concrete sidewalks and large oak and elm trees grew in every yard.

Similar redbrick houses lined this quiet suburban street. The backyards blended together without fences. At the back of each narrow property was a tall retaining wall, helping to block the sounds of a highway put in a few years ago.

Short of putting around-the-clock guards on the house, it couldn’t be entirely protected. “As long as they don’t open the door without knowing who’s there, they should be safe enough.”

“Convincing yourself, or me?” Cannon asked.

“Both, I guess.”

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