Текст книги "Once Kissed"
Автор книги: Cecy Robson
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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Curran
I recognize that look, the one that shifts in a perp’s face. It’s the same one that kid had right before he reached for his gun and shot Joey full of holes. This perp, like that teen, knows there’s no going back, not after what he’s done.
He’s going to kill Tess, the mother of my child, my soon-to-be wife, and the woman I promised forever. There’s no doubt in my mind.
He makes his choice.
And I make mine.
My target is his left eye, and that’s precisely where my bullet strikes.
I bolt to Tess’s side when his body buckles and her knees give out. From one blink to the next, she’s in my arms. I wrench her to her feet and drag her away, over to where McMullen and two others are seeing to Lu.
“You all right?” I ask Tess. “You hurt?”
She points in the direction of the perp with one eye and a busted skull. I think she means to say something about him, but instead asks, “How did you find me?”
My hold on her tightens as I remember the call. “Lu saw them take you. She phoned me and half the precinct. With all the traffic this time of night—and festivals going on down at Penn’s Landing—no one could get to you fast enough. For the time being, we knew we were on our own. So we formed a plan as soon as we got a handle on where you were headed, and moved in.” I motion ahead to our left. “I parked on the block before this one. Snuck through that small alley and stuck to the shadows. Lu took her time pulling up behind you and getting out, giving me time to get in position. It worked. Perps never saw me coming.”
“I see,” she says, two seconds before she almost collapses. I ease her down on the curb. “Your job sucks,” she stammers, breathing hard and clinging to my shirt with white knuckles.
Maybe, but it’s what I’m meant to do.
I kiss her forehead, because that’s all I can do right now. What I want to do is snatch her to me and never let her go. She almost died—Christ Almighty, my girl, my kid, I almost lost them, just like that.
I kiss her again, this time a little lower. Her glasses are crooked. I try to fix them, but they’re bent from the throw-down. “They thought I was Declan’s girlfriend,” she says, her voice continuing to tremble.
“Then my guess is Montenegro’s wife put a hit on you.” I shrug to make like everything’s fine, and that I’m not freaking the fuck out over her being kidnapped and held at gunpoint at twelve goddamn weeks pregnant. “Women are funny when it comes to their men.”
I don’t mean to make her tear up, but that’s what she does. She clutches the front of my shirt and loses it, crying so hard I can barely understand her. “I thought you were dead. You were outnumbered; Lu was hurt. D-did you kill them—all of them?”
I nod, anger reverting me to cop mode.
Police officers are taught to protect, and to do so, that means we’re also taught to kill. I’m not immune to taking a life. I felt the impact with each one I ended tonight. But I also know I didn’t have a choice. Not this time. Not if it meant saving the woman I love and the baby she’s carrying inside her.
I hold on to Tess and let her cry, ’cause that’s what she needs to do. By the time the EMTs arrive to take Lu to the hospital, she’s calm enough to let me help her to her feet.
We walk to where they’re securing Lu to a stretcher. Tess holds tight to my hand as she bends to squeeze Lu’s arm. “Thank you for watching over me,” she tells her, softly. “You saved me and our little one.”
Lu nods and offers her a tight smile. I can tell that shot to her shoulder is killing her, but she manages to stay strong and be nice to my girl. She’s a good cop, and an even better woman. I lean in to tell her as much. “Lu, I—”
“Thirty years, O’Brien.” Her scowl and husky voice cut me off. “Thirty fucking years and two shifts left till retirement.”
I straighten and swipe at my face. “Ah, yeah, sorry about this, Lu—”
“No stab wounds, no bullet holes, not even a damn black eye. Then I meet you and take one to the gut.”
“It’s only a flesh wound to the shoulder, ma’am,” the EMT interrupts.
“Was I talking to you, asshole?” Lu growls back.
“Um, no ma’am,” he answers.
“Then shut the hell up. You ain’t no doctor.”
The EMTs exchange glances, then hurry to shove her in back of the ambulance. “Thirty fucking years!” Lu yells.
“I swear I’ll make it up to you,” I promise. “Do you like muffin baskets?”
“Fuck you, O’Brien.” The doors shut, but not before I hear her call me an asshole.
Tess rubs my arm. “She’s just upset about what happened,” she offers.
I take in her beautiful face, her eyes reddening the longer I look at her. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m a mess, and I think I have glass and pieces of bone in my hair. I’d like to go home. Can we go home?”
“As soon as we’re done here. I promise, baby.” I motion to the detectives waiting to take her statement. “It’s just procedure. Tell them everything you remember, and then we’re out of here, okay?”
The two suits step forward. I release Tess and step back just enough so it doesn’t look like I’m coaching her. I reach for my phone and hit the icon for my email. I rattle off the facts in a detailed report and send it directly to my sergeant, all the while keeping tabs on Tess. More cops show in the time it takes us to wrap up.
“Oh, shit,” someone says.
Three rookies gather around the last body, pointing to what remains of the man’s head. “Clean shot. All the way through. Do you know anyone who could do that? I sure don’t.”
“Hell, no. And did you see the perp by the building? O’Brien got him right through the heart.”
“Good job, O’Brien,” the one closest to me calls.
They mean it as a compliment. But they’re young, and still have a lot to learn. Maybe I’ll be able to show them. For now, my girl needs me. I reach for her and lead her back to my truck.
We’ve had enough bad lately. It’s time to start our life of good.
Epilogue
Tess
The autumn breeze is chilly, but the sun warms my face as I step onto the porch. Curran warms the rest of me when he presses his chest against my back and winds his arm around my growing belly. We wave to his siblings and friends. One by one, they climb into their vehicles and pull out of our long driveway.
My father and I settled out of court. For as much as he resents me, he hates scandal more. At least, when it’s directed at him. The figure we settled on paid the majority of my law school expenses; the rest I’ll work off as a prosecuting attorney in the DA’s office. Although I was only sworn in two months ago, I already know the public sector is where I belong.
I smile when Joey laughs at something Finn says. He pulls himself into the passenger side of Finn’s truck while Finn tucks his wheelchair in the rear cabin.
“Place is coming along nice,” Curran says to me. “Way better than it looked on paper.”
“I know,” I agree. “My favorite room so far is the master bathroom.”
He nibbles on my neck. “Not the bedroom?”
I laugh. “Oh, that room has its advantages, too. But our bathroom is gorgeous. I find myself going in there all the time just to stare at it.”
“I hear ya. I wasn’t sure when Sofe suggested that quartz shit, but that girl has damn good taste. Looks awesome with the cherry cabinets—and did you see the stone tile in the mudroom Finnie and Joey put down? Hell, they killed it.”
“Tell me about it. And they were so fast.” I turn to face him. “At this rate, we’ll be able to have Thanksgiving here.”
“Probably Christmas, too. It’s a big place.” He frowns when he lifts my hands and examines them closely. “Hey, where’s the rock?”
I smile and reach into my shirt, pulling out the long silver chain that holds my platinum engagement ring and wedding band. “I didn’t want to risk getting anything on them.” I shrug. “It seemed like a good alternative.”
That’s what I say, but my husband is no longer listening. “Hey. What else have you got in there?” He pulls at the collar of my T-shirt and peeks inside. “Damn, those are nice. Can I see them without the lace?”
We’ve spent another long weekend working on the interior of our newly constructed house, and both of us have to work the next day. But as my hands splay over the hard muscles of Curran’s chest, and I catch the gleam in his eyes, my exhaustion dissolves, replaced with a need that deepens my voice. “You can see anything you want, cop.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” I answer.
He lifts me in his arms, crushing his lips against mine as he carries me inside. The moment we hit the couch (incidentally, the one piece of furniture we haven’t broken in), it becomes a race to see who gets naked first.
I’m struggling to catch my breath when we finish, and he lowers us onto our sides, his rough hands sweeping over my bare breasts as his eyes latch on to mine. “I love you,” he rasps.
My arms link around his neck and draw him closer, allowing me to savor the sweeps of his tongue and the heat from his body.
As we lie there, I remember the words of his brother. Declan said that what I know will only take me so far. It’s who I know that will ultimately decide where I end up. I know Curran, his strengths, his faults, and how much he gives me. So I suppose “happy” is where I’ll be.
I smile and stroke the side of his face. “Thank you for loving me,” I tell him, quietly.
His blue eyes soften as he takes me in. “I didn’t get a choice,” he says. “Once I kissed you, I knew there was no going back….”
To those in law enforcement who risk their lives and practice their profession with strength, heart, and honor.
Acknowledgments
To my editor, Sue Grimshaw, for her kind words and for her continued support and encouragement, and to Team Random House for their patience and dedication to my work. You have my respect and admiration.
To Nicole Resciniti for being an agent when I need her to be, and a dear friend always.
To my husband, Jamie, who seems to like everything I write—no matter how crazy. Including, and not limited to: psycho machete-wielding fathers, tsunamis that appear from nowhere, useless fight scenes that don’t advance the plot, vampires who dress like naughty Catholic schoolgirls, and venomous snakes—because some books just need venomous snakes.
To my babies for their patience when Mommy needs to write…and their patience when Mommy is the loudest screamer on the roller coaster those rare times she isn’t writing.
To my girls and my writing pals, Amanda Flower, Kate SeRine, and Ann Marie Walker. I’m so proud to know you, and more proud to call you my friends.
To my fans who have stood by me from the start, and to those who are just discovering me. It’s an honor to share my characters and their journeys with you. The good news is, I’ve only just begun.
Lastly, to my Tío Marce, for all the smiles and laughs he gave me throughout my life. How do you thank someone who’s been so good to you, when “thank you” doesn’t seem to be enough? I’m not sure. What I know is that I’ll cherish my memories with him forever, and that I’ll mourn greatly because he loved me so greatly in return. Love you, Tío.
BY CECY ROBSON O’Brien Family
Once Kissed
Once Crossed (coming soon)
Shattered Past
Once Perfect
Once Loved
Once Pure
Weird Girls
A Curse Awakened (novella)
The Weird Girls (novella)
Sealed with a Curse
A Cursed Embrace
A Cursed Moon (novella)
Cursed by Destiny
A Cursed Bloodline
A Curse Unbroken
Of Flame and Promise (coming soon)
PHOTO: KATE GLEDHILL PHOTOGRAPHY
CECY ROBSON is the New Adult and Contemporary author of the Shattered Past series and the O’Brien Family novels, as well as the award-winning author of the Weird Girls urban fantasy romance series. A self-proclaimed professional napper, Cecy counts among her talents a jaw-dropping knowledge of useless trivia, the ability to make her hair big, and a knack for breaking into song despite her family’s vehement protests. A full-time writer, registered nurse, wife, and mother living in the South, Cecy enjoys spending time with her family and silencing the yappy characters in her head by telling their stories.
www.cecyrobson.com
Facebook.com/Cecy.Robson.Author
@cecyrobson
www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomCecyRobsonAuthor
The Editor’s Corner
Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November…wait, it is November, and Loveswept is releasing some of our best books of the year! Check out these fabulous romances:
New York Times bestselling author Marquita Valentine releases her second new novel in her Boys of the South spin-off series Take the Fall series with When We Fall, in which a small-town sweetheart takes a chance on the bad boy who’s always been her hottest fantasy. Another Loveswept New York Times bestselling author, Tracy Wolff introduces her new Hotwired series with Accelerate, where an unassuming passenger is taken for the ride of her life. New York Times bestselling author *crane A. Meredith Walters releases a powerful romance akin to The Fault in Our Stars with Butterfly Dreams. Then, welcome to Thistle Bend! A charming series debut from Tracy March, Should’ve Said No introduces a small town where old secrets are revealed—and wounded hearts are opened to new love. And in a short novel, Rebecca Rogers Maher’s Rolling in the Deep, two kindred spirits share a winning lottery ticket—and discover what it really means to get lucky.
Sports fans were introduced last month to the Aces Hockey series by Kelly Jamieson with Major Misconduct, and this month Kelly releases a holiday romance, Off Limits. Book two in the Recovered Innocence series by Beth Yarnall features a San Diego investigative team with a soft spot for lost causes and a passion for redemption in Vindicate. And Taking It Off, by USA Today bestselling author Claire Kent introduces you to Matt Stokes, the sexy-as-sin male stripper and club owner who knows what it really means to bare everything. Jessica Lemmon’s irresistible Lost Boys series kicks off with Fighting for Devlin the story of a good girl who plays by the rules—and the bad boy who brings out her wild side. And in Cecy Robson’s O’Brien Family series debut, two total opposites find that the flames of desire are still smoldering in Once Kissed.
For historical romance fans, Sharon Cullen’s The Reluctant Duchess ignites as a shy country girl and a hotheaded duke surrender to dangerous temptations. Then it’s on to Scotland for USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Haymore’s Highland Knights and the first book in this new series, Highland Heat, an electrifying tale of class warfare, fierce loyalties, and forbidden love.
I don’t want this month to end! But the good news is December is upon us with more fabulous Loveswept titles. Until then…
Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for an excerpt from Once Crossed An O’Brien Family Novel
by Cecy Robson
Available from Loveswept
Chapter 1
Melissa
I stare at the nameplate perched on my father’s desk: DISTRICT ATTORNEY MILES FENSKE. It proclaims his position and allows those who read it a glimpse of what he’s accomplished. Yet it’s only a glimpse. It’s not a true representation of all he is, and all he means to me. Nor does it adequately paint the portrait of a man who’s been so kind, who saved me from tragedy, and who gave up his happiness in exchange for mine.
The nameplate is cheap, unlike the generous soul who looks back at me with the same gentle gaze he’s carried since the first moment I saw him. What are you thinking, Melissa? he signs to me, moving his hands in beautifully fluid motions.
We’re alone in his office. He doesn’t need to sign to keep our conversation private. He could whisper, and I would still be able to read his lips. But he knows I’m more comfortable communicating with my hands, probably because American Sign Language is one of the many things we learned together. As a child I considered it our very own secret language, something he and I could share away from the hearing world.
That you’re making a mistake, I sign back.
My comment earns me a smile, but I can see his concern, despite the crinkles around his eyes that deepen when he grins. “You’re going to have to trust me,” he says aloud.
I let out a breath. He knows I trust him. How could I not?
I was brought to the Lehigh Valley District Attorney’s office when I was about four years old, after my biological mother had attempted to sell my innocence in exchange for drugs. My mother probably thought it was a brilliant plan. Being born almost completely deaf, I couldn’t speak, couldn’t communicate, couldn’t understand. Which meant I couldn’t tell anyone what was about to take place.
Yet that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel pain when she slapped me, or that I was numb to the terror when she shoved me into a room naked with those men. My primal instincts ordered me to run, that this was wrong, that I was in danger, so I did—thank God I did. I kicked and fought, dodging the hands trying to grab me and scurrying out my window.
To this day, I remember the way the cold metal grating of the fire escape felt against my bare feet, and the way my mouth struggled to form what I thought were words as I banged on my elderly neighbor’s window. Miss Lena, the lady with too many cats and twice as many grandchildren, yanked me into her apartment when she saw me. She called the police, but by the time they arrived, the men were gone and so was my mother. I never saw them again.
Not that I regret it.
I was placed in foster care, confused and frightened about what was happening and certain I’d eventually return “home.” Instead, I was brought before the young assistant DA Miles Fenske. He was supposed to handle my case, dispose of it, and move on. He was never supposed to welcome me into his heart. Yet that’s exactly what he did.
“Melissa,” he says. His words sound muffled; my hearing aids can only do so much, but I hear enough to sense the emotion in the way he speaks my name. “Why are you so sad?”
I raise my chin. “Declan O’Brien will never be the man you are. He’s not the right DA for this position.” I shake my head. “He belongs in the Trial Unit, Arson, Fugitive—anywhere else but where you’ve placed him.”
“I know you don’t like him…”
I raise my brows.
“…and that your first encounter wasn’t a positive one…”
“That’s because he was an asshole,” I mumble.
He chuckles. “I assure you he deeply regrets what he said. But Declan is smart, quick, and kind.”
I don’t agree. Not completely. Is Declan intelligent? Brilliantly so, and absurdly astute in court. With short, curly blond hair and a dashing grin that lights his blue eyes, he’s also gorgeous, and he knows it. But is he kind? I’m not so sure that he is. “He’ll never be the man you are,” I repeat.
“I’m not asking him to be. I simply want the best person for the job, someone who will help the victims who need him most.”
“That’s what you claim. But he doesn’t have experience handling delicate cases where offenders often inflict irreparable trauma.”
“No, but as the head of Victim Services, you do,” he offers with a knowing gleam.
My nails dig into the wooden armrests. “If you’re trying to hook us up, I’m going to be seriously mad at you.”
The edges of his mouth curve. “I’m only asking you to help Declan as he transitions into his new role. This new assignment won’t be easy on him.”
“Because he doesn’t want it. He wants to be the head of Homicide.” I stand, my hands pleading. “Please reassign him. The Sexual Assault and Child Abuse Unit is not where someone who seeks glory belongs.”
My voice trails as I catch a glimmer of his pain. “Daddy?”
At once, his face scrunches, flushing red only to grow alarmingly pale. I race around his desk, clutching his shoulders to keep him upright as he grips his side and beads of sweat gather along his receding hairline.
It’s only because he lifts his bowed head and a healthier shade of pink returns to his cheeks that I’m not screaming for help and dialing 911. “Daddy?”
He offers me a weak smile and pats my arm. “I’m all right,” he says, leaning back in his chair.
“No you’re not,” I say, my eyes stinging. My stare drifts over his body. His light blue dress shirt clings with sweat to his arms and plump midsection. He’s not well. My father is…sick. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His hand slowly eases away from his side. For a moment his eyes search my face, as they’ve done a thousand times throughout my life. “The doctors discovered new tumors along my colon,” he finally says. “They’re going to resection my bowel and dispose of the affected area, with the hope of avoiding chemo this time around.”
Very carefully, I straighten, despite the fact that my heart has all but stopped beating. My father was diagnosed with colon cancer years ago and just barely survived the aggressive treatment. If it’s returned, now that he’s older, and not as healthy…
“When were you going to tell me?” I ask, keeping my voice steady despite how badly it wants to shake.
He sighs. “Friday, over dinner.”
To give me the weekend to absorb it, no doubt. “And your surgery? When is that?”
“A few weeks.” He frowns as if debating what to say. “I’ll be out of commission for a while. In my absence, Declan will lead the office as acting district attorney.” He looks at me then. “And I ask that you help him, regardless of your feelings toward him.”
