Embraced

4

Someone was in the house.

Marey jerked up in bed later that night, terrified as she heard the sound downstairs. What the hell was it? Why hadn’t her alarm gone off?

There it was again. She blinked in the darkness. Was that a whistle? She stared into the dark bedroom, her heart racing, the sound echoing in her ears as she fought to wake up, to make sense of the sudden panic ripping through her again.

The new alarm system was supposed to be foolproof. Alerting the police and sounding a wail that would raise the dead if the house was breached. Evidently, it wasn’t as secure as the salesman had promised her.

There it was again. It was a whistle. And she knew that sound. The grating little tune was one Vince was fond of. He would sound it for hours at a time, working himself into a rage as he did so. It always heralded another accusation, another rage, and in those final weeks of their marriage, another physical blow against her.

Shit. She jumped from the bed, jerking her robe on as she grabbed her cell phone from the bed and punched in the sheriff’s number. This was insane. How the hell had he managed to get through the alarm and into the house? And why was he being so stupid?

“Sheriff’s office.” The dispatcher answered on the first ring.

“Janey, it’s Marey Dumont,” she snapped, her voice low. “Vince has broken into the house.”

She had gone to school with Janey, knew her husband and her kids. None of them liked Vince. Not that she could blame them.

“Stay with me, Marey, I’ll get someone on the way out there.”

Marey listened as Janey’s voice became more distant, imperative, as she called in the report.

“I have a car on the way, Marey,” she came back, her voice calm, cool. “I want you to stay on the phone with me, honey, till they get there. You say the alarm didn’t go off?”

“Not a peep,” she whispered. “I just happened to wake up when he made a sound downstairs. I don’t know how he got through.”

It didn’t make sense. Vince wasn’t the brightest light in the house, and electronically, his skills were nil. He would have needed the code to the gates as well as the door.

There was a crash downstairs.

“You fucking whore!” Vince screamed from the bottom of the stairs then, as something else could be heard shattering against a wall. Dammit, he was breaking her vases, she thought miserably. She had paid a lot of money for those damned things. Her insurance company was going to scream.

“Shit. Janey, tell them to put some lead on the gas,” she breathed out harshly. “He’s drunk and he’s pissed. How the hell did he get past my alarm?”

She moved quickly to the bedroom door, locking it before pushing the large, wing-backed chair over to it, and tilting it until the back was forced beneath the brass knob. It was the only security she could think of. Tomorrow, she promised herself, she was buying a gun.

“They’ll be there fast, Marey, just stay calm,” Janey assured her quietly. “I want you to stay back from the door. Hide in the bathroom and lock the door there. Get as far away from him as you can until help arrives.”

She could hear her voice fade as Janey turned to the radio and called in to report to whoever was headed to the house.

She stood indecisively in the middle of the bedroom, staring around it in regret. She couldn’t stay here. Vince was evidently insane. First the attack at the motel and now this. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t live this way.

“I’ll kill you this time, you fucking bitch.” He was at the door, his fists hammering on the door as Marey began to tremble nervously. “What makes you think you can whore around on me? I’ll kill you for even thinking of letting another man touch you. You fucking slut. You’re a dead woman!”

Enraged, almost incoherent, his curses slammed into her, making her stomach knot in fear as she bit her lip to hold back the cry of rage that built in her throat. They had been divorced for years, and she had been careful. Very careful to make certain he had no reason to torment her as he had that first year after their split.

His fists hammered into the door again, shaking the panel. He was a brute of a man. The door was heavy but she had no doubt he would get through it.

“Janey, this is getting serious,” she breathed out, her voice shaking as she moved to the bathroom and locked the door there as well. There were no chairs to place against the door, nothing to hold him back. “These doors won’t keep him out.”

“Two minutes, Marey,” Janey promised her calmly. “You can hold on two minutes. Get a can of hairspray, anything harsh. If he makes it past the doorway, spray his eyes full. Do whatever you have to. Sheriff Richards and Deputy Carlson are almost there. You’ll hear the sirens soon and so will he. Maybe it will run him off.”

She was right. Seconds later the sound of sirens wailing in the distance could be heard. Relief poured through her as tears filled her eyes. Her nerves clashed as she felt the jolt of Vince throwing himself against the door.

“The gates are locked,” Marey told Janey, moving along the wall as she heard him crash into the door again. “The code is six, four, eight, three, two, nine. That’s going to delay them.”

Janey relayed the code to the sheriff before coming back.

“You hear them now?” The sirens were growing louder.

“You fucking whore. You slut,” Vince screamed then. “I’ll get you, bitch. When I do, I’ll kill you. That damned sheriff won’t save you every time.”

The sound of running feet down the stairs assured her he was leaving. Breathing a sigh of relief, she collapsed against the wall, a tired, nervous little laugh escaping her throat as tears tightened her chest.

“He’s gone,” she whispered then. “Janey, he’s going to fucking kill me. What the hell am I going to do?”

The house was a mess.

Evidently Vince had found quite a few ways to amuse himself before she woke up. Curses had been spelled out in lurid detail in black and red permanent marker across the walls. Her living room furniture was slashed, vases and heirloom glassware shattered. Some of the items Marey knew she would never be able to replace.

She stared around at the destruction, dressed in jeans and a sweater to ward off the chill that filled her body as the sheriff and his deputy filled out their reports and called the security company. Within hours, the house was filled with people, and all Marey could do was stand and stare around in confusion at the mess her ex-husband had made.

“You need to find a hotel, or stay with a friend for a few days, Marey.” Sheriff Richards stepped around the mess in the entry hall as he moved from the living room. “The security system is intact, but he obviously has the codes. You’re not safe here.”

Duh. No shit.

Marey kept the sarcastic comment to herself as she stared back at the sheriff.

“What are you going to do about him?” she asked him carefully. “They let him out on bail. He could terrorize me further, Sheriff. Now what the hell are you going to do about it?”

He sighed roughly, propped his hands on his hips and shook his head. As handsome as the man was, right now, she wanted to kick his teeth in. He was being of no help whatsoever.

“We’ll pick him up. He’s violated the terms of his release, so the bail will be revoked. But until we catch him, you’re not safe.”

“She will be.”

Marey froze at the dark, dangerous voice behind her. She turned slowly toward the open front door and stared back at Sax Brogan with a sense of fatal resignation.

Now, why hadn’t she guessed he was going to show up?

A man shouldn’t be so sinfully sexy, she thought. He shouldn’t steal a woman’s last breath with a frown, or make her knees weak from one of those hot little looks from dark, chocolate brown eyes. And he sure as hell shouldn’t make her pussy burn in the middle of a situation that was precarious to say the least.

“Hello, Sax, it’s good to see you again.” Sheriff Richards nodded back at him as Sax stepped into the house. “I hope you’re going to convince her to get out of here until we pick up Vince. She’s getting a bit testy on me.” He cast her an amused look.

Marey frowned back at him.

“I am neither testy, nor a child, Sheriff,” she snapped. “And I don’t need a man to take care of me. I can make decisions fine on my own.”

She hated it when men acted as though a woman was only safe if she had a man in front of her. In Sax’s case, if things went the way he wanted, she would have one behind her as well.

“Of course you can.” The sheriff nodded. “Which means you’re going to take my advice and get the hell out of here until I let you know we’ve caught Vince Clayton. Aren’t you, Marey?”

Why did men always think they were right and she was wrong?

“Pack some clothes, Marey,” Sax said easily, though she read the tense readiness in his body. “I’ll take you to Terrie or Ella’s, but you are getting out of here. If I have to carry you out.”

His dark face was set in lines of determination and resolve. Marey glanced away, knowing that if she left with him, he wouldn’t leave her anywhere else. She would be going to his house. His bed.

She glanced back at him knowing she was losing a battle she didn’t really want to fight any longer. She had set this in motion when she made that trip to the motel, when she had let her desires and her needs overcome her common sense. She had no one else to blame but herself.

“Go on, Marey,” the sheriff urged her. “We have an APB out on Vince, we’ll have him in custody soon. Until then, protect yourself. Get the hell away from the house.”

Like she had a choice at this point? She was well aware of the fact that she couldn’t stay at the house, and she wasn’t endangering her friends either.

Gritting her teeth in fury, she slanted Sax a fulminating look as she turned and stalked to the curved staircase.

“You’re taking me to a hotel,” she snapped, though she was careful to keep her back to him. “No questions, no alternatives. A hotel.”

“Whatever you want, Marey,” he called back, his voice carefully neutral.

Pausing, she turned back to look at him.

His expression was pure sin, sex in its most undiluted form. His dark eyes gleamed with it, his expression was filled with it. She was so fucked. Unfortunately, she had a feeling she was going to enjoy it. Too much.