Read Deserve Online

Authors: C.C. Snow

Deserve (27 page)

I take out my phone and dial Todd
Jorgsen
.
Thank fuck I had the foresight to do background checks on every one of her
friends after she was attacked.

“Hello?” A voice answers tentatively.

“Todd
Jorgsen
?”

“Yes? Who’s this?”

I speak quickly. “We haven’t met. I’m Maggie’s friend,
Detective Sean Rowan.” I deliberately use my title. “We have reason to believe
she’s in danger and I need to find her immediately. Were you going out with her
tonight?”

“Yes, we were supposed to meet at
Cielo
at ten. I’m on my way there now.” His voice fills with concern.

I look at my watch. It’s already a quarter ‘til. “Have you
been in contact with her?”

“No. I haven’t talked to her since I saw her at school.”

“If she contacts you, tell her it’s an emergency and she
needs to call me.”

“Okay.” His voice shakes with fear.

“We need to get to
Cielo
,” I say
curtly, dread weighing down my thought processes. Even with no traffic, we’ll
barely make it in time, but on a Friday night, we would need a miracle.

“I have my bike,” Bo says.

“I’ll stay here and look around one more time before I meet
you there,”
Jace
volunteers.

“Let’s go!” I start running after Bo, not wasting time to call
Cael
. Something in my gut tells me every second
counts. If she makes it into club before we reach her, she’s a sitting duck. In
the loud, crowded atmosphere, anything could happen to her and nobody would
notice.

Hurry, hurry,
hurry
.
The refrain is a frenzied drumbeat.

Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maggie

My heart is still thumping wildly when Paula, Arianna and I walk
briskly away from campus.

“Are you sure that guy was following you?” Paula asks as she
looks fearfully over her shoulder, a note of disbelief in her voice.

“Not one hundred percent, but I wasn’t going to risk it.” As
we were about to leave the lecture hall, I caught a glimpse of a dark-haired
man standing on the edges of the lit entrance and my belly cramped in alarm.
There was something very familiar about his stance. When he stepped into the
light, his pale eyes glinted and I gasped with recognition. He looked like the
man who was watching me when I walked with Todd to class. It couldn’t have been
a coincidence that he was standing outside the lecture hall.

Don’t doubt your
instincts. If anything or anyone makes you uneasy, you need to follow your
intuition.

This time, I listened to Sean’s instructions. Sneaking out through
one of the side doors, my friends and I used a roundabout route to get onto a
main street.

I considered calling the police, but they would probably
think I was pathologically paranoid for reporting someone who might or might
not be stalking me. Besides, the man was a complete stranger and couldn’t have
been my attacker. The more I consider the situation, the more I realize I had
overreacted. But that prickling at the nape of my neck won’t go away.

Once we are in a more trafficked area, Arianna holds up her
hand to hail a cab. One pulls up quickly and she and Paula slide into the backseat.

I hesitate, feeling off center and uneasy, and make a sudden
decision. One hand holding onto the cab door, I lean down and say, “Guys, I’m
going back to the dorm. I don’t think I’m up for going out after all.” I can’t
stand the thought of sweaty, anonymous bodies brushing against me all night.
I’ll probably have a nervous breakdown before I even get on the dance floor.

“Are you sure?” Arianna asks with a frown.

“Yeah, I need to make some calls. That guy really spooked me
and I’m not going to be very fun tonight.”
I
guess I’m going to spend the night crying about Sean again
, I think wryly.

They start to get out of the vehicle, but I stop them with a
gesture. “You better go now or you’re going to be late to meet with everybody.
Tell them I’m sorry I bailed, but I’ll make it up to them. It’s only a few
blocks away from the dorm and there are still people walking around. I’ll be
fine.”

They look torn and I make the decision for them by closing
the car door. “Have a good time. If I change my mind, I’ll give you a call.”

“Okay. Text us when you juice up your phone,” Paula says.

I wave goodbye and the taxi takes off. Adjusting my collar
to block out the cold, I start to walk toward my dorm. I hold my pepper spray
at the ready and keep my senses fanned outward. I swivel my head around,
surprised by how quickly the street has emptied.

The normally loud city noises seem to be very distant. I
strain to hear anything that would indicate the presence of other pedestrians,
but I seem to be alone. No footsteps. No quiet conversations.

How the hell can the
street be empty at this time of night?

Shivering from something other than the cold, I hunch my
shoulders inward, trying to make myself inconspicuous.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, wishing I had asked my
friends to walk me back to the dorm after all. I fiddle nervously with the
nozzle of the pepper spray. “Too late now, Batgirl. You’re on your own.”

I lengthen my strides, my pulse fluttering as I near a dimly
lit area. Tilting my head up, I notice that the street lamp is out. Behind me I
hear a faint rustle and I spin around, eyes darting into the shadows.
Distantly, I hear a couple
laugh
and I exhale in
relief. Rotating my shoulder blades, I try to release some of the tension.

“I’m going to go to treat myself to a spa day after this,” I
promise myself quietly.

I face forward, angry
at
myself for
being such a jittery mess. Throwing my shoulders back, I start to walk more
confidently.

A black streak jumps out two feet ahead of me and I shriek,
almost leaping out of my skin. I hold the pepper spray at arm’s length, ready
to depress the trigger. My hand is shaking. Yellow eyes stare at me
disdainfully and with a swish of his tail, the lithe animal ambles nimbly across
the street.

“Jesus. It’s just a cat, Maggie,” I reassure myself and
laugh nervously. I pat my palm against my heart, trying to calm its mad beat.
“Don’t give yourself a heart
att
—”

A hand slaps over my mouth and the bottom of my nose,
cutting off my air, and my eyes widen with terror. A steely arm bands around my
middle and starts to drag me to the side. My pepper spray drops to the sidewalk
with a clack. Panic and horror rush through me, stealing my ability to think,
eliminating my ability to move. Tears seep out of my eyes.

Not again.

Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sean

My phone vibrates against my hip. With one arm hanging onto
Bo, I put the phone to my ear.

“Rowan,” I shout over the sound of the engine.

“Detective Rowan?”

“Yes?” I bark impatiently.

“This is Todd
Jorgsen
. I just called
a friend who was supposed to come with Maggie to the club, but she told me
Maggie changed her mind and is walking back to her dorm. They offered to walk with
her, but Maggie refused.”

I hang up with another word, my heart lurching in dread. I
tap Bo on the shoulder and yell at the top of my lungs, “Turn back. We need to
go to her dorm.”

Bo throttles the engine and makes a sharp left, almost
kissing the fender of a sedan. As we weave through traffic, I catalog all the
things I’m going to do to her for all the shit she’s pulled tonight. First and
foremost, I’m going to go down on my knees to thank God that she’s okay. Then
I’m dragging her home and tying her to the bed. Once I have titanium bars and
bulletproof glass on the windows and doors, I’ll allow her to walk around. And
maybe over time, I’ll even permit her to leave the apartment, but not before I
embed a GPS chip in the back of her skull. I nod in grim satisfaction at my
plan of action.

Just let me find her
before it’s too late.

The motorcycle comes to a screeching halt in front of the dorm
and I sprint toward the entrance, hurtling through the door. Ignoring the cry
of alarm from the kid at the front desk, I run up the stairs until I reach
Maggie’s room. I bang on the door with my fists and yell her name. No answer.

“Shit!” I barrel down the stairs until I reach the front
desk. “Have you seen Maggie Jackson come in tonight?”

Eyes wide with alarm, the guy shakes his head violently. “I
can’t share that information with you, sir. And you violated our residence rule
by not signing in.”

Fuck!
Just my luck to encounter a
Dudley Do-Right.
My first
instinct is to pull out my gun and demand he answer, but causing mass hysteria won’t
get me the information I need any faster. I take out my wallet and flash my
badge. “Talk,” I order. Desperation escalates with every passing second.

Eyes glued on my badge, the kid stutters, “
Nnoo
…no…I…I’ve been on duty for an hour and have…haven’t
seen her.”

“Fuck!” I pivot and charge out of the building. “She’s not here,”
I shout at Bo as I wipe at the sweat pouring down my face. Adrenaline has been
coursing through my body for what feels like hours and things have taken on a
surreal quality. A gruesome image swims on the edges of my mind.

Maggie, limp like a rag doll, bleeding from savage slashes all
over her slim body, her voice ragged from screams of terror.
The
spark of life fading from her beautiful eyes.

Snap out of it, Rowan!
NOW!

I grit my teeth, forcing my mind to veer away from the
nightmarish scenario, forcing my faculties to work.

“We need to circle the area. Go that way,” I say, vaulting
onto the back of Bo’s bike and pointing in the direction of the route she would
most likely have taken from the university.

Bo goes slowly and I suppress the urge to tell him to
increase the speed. I refuse to let panic cloud my reason and judgment. If he
moves too fast, I won’t be able to spot Maggie.

I swivel my head, probing the darker areas of the streets, cursing
the low hum of the engine that prevents me from hearing any subtler sounds.

Where are you, angel?

If I had blinked, I would have missed the thrashing shadows.
I couldn’t have known that it was
her
, but I did. I
knew it in my bones.

Jesus, please don’t
let me be too late.

Stomach twisting in fear, I slap Bo twice on his shoulder.
Before the bike comes to a complete stop, I throw myself off, my hand reaching
for my
Glock
, and run full tilt toward the writhing
figures.

“Police. Halt!” I drag the male figure, strong and sinewy, still
kicking and punching, upright and place my gun at his temple. I itch to use a
chokehold to crush his windpipe.

Bo swings his bike around and shines his headlight onto the
scene.

“Move and I’ll gladly put a bullet in your head,” I snarl
viciously and he immediately stills.

“Don’t hurt him!”

The voice draws my attention to the ground.

“What the hell?” Bo’s voice comes from behind me, but I can’t
look away from the unbelievable, frozen tableau. My eyes widen in incomprehension.

Maggie, eyes flashing with green fire, tear-streaked face
ghostly white, and hair a corona of flames under the harsh glare of the light,
has one knee on the back of a still male figure and her hand at the base of his
skull, pressing his face to the hard ground. Her body is held tightly, every
tensile muscle coiled for battle. In contrast, the body on the ground is
completely lax. There’s no doubt in my mind that he has been knocked
unconscious.

As I take in her magnificence, awe and wonder fill me.

When I traveled through Europe, I came across a painting in
a church in Rome of the Archangel Michael, wings spread, sword unsheathed, poised
to vanquish his foe. I stayed in that apse for an hour, admiring the beauty of
the work, knowing I would never forget its glory.

Seeing Maggie at this moment is like seeing the painting
come to life. She
is
the warrior
angel.
An avenging angel in the truest sense of the word.

This image will be forever embedded into my soul, reminding
me that there is goodness and light in the world.

“Angel, are you okay?” I ask the most urgent question, eyes
roving hungrily over her, afraid this is a hallucination.

She blinks owlishly into the bright light. “Sean?”

“Yes, it’s me,” I say gently. I want nothing more than to
take her into my arms, but I need to neutralize every threat first. “Are you
okay?” I demand, needing a verbal confirmation.

“Yes, I think so,” she replies, her voice shaky.

For the first time in hours, the tension gripping my every
muscle unravels and a wave of dizziness hits me.
Thank God.

The man in my arm tries to twist away. “Let me go!” he says angrily.

Turning my attention to my captive, I shake him roughly and
ask, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Sean, he saved me!” Maggie says urgently, green eyes
pleading. “That’s Josh Ludlow. When this guy grabbed me from behind, Josh
jumped on him. Don’t hurt him.”

I glance at him suspiciously, recalling the way he stared at
Maggie months ago. I hand him over to Bo and
reholster
my gun at my back.

“Keep him secure until I can figure this shit out,” I say
and kneel next to Maggie. I press my hand on the back of the
perp’s
head before I examine her visually for any injuries.
If the fucker decides to wake up, I’ll gladly take the opportunity to crush his
skull.

She looks dazed and disheveled, but appears unharmed.

“You sure you’re okay, angel?”

She nods, her expression still disbelieving.

“Thank God.” I spear my fingers into her hair and my whole
body sighs in relief at the feel of her warmth. Unable to resist, I give her a
hard, brief kiss and when I break away, her eyes look glazed. I pinch her chin
to get her attention. “Angel, you can let go. I’ve got him.” Gently, I pry her
fingers away from the
perp’s
neck. “Why don’t you
call 911 while I take care of this guy?”

“My battery died,” she says sheepishly.

I close my eyes and imagine buying a private island in the
middle of the Pacific and plunking her on it. Nobody would be allowed to land
unless they get clearance from me.
Yes,
much better than the GPS idea,
I decide. Speaking through clenched teeth, I
say, “Get my phone out of my left coat pocket.”

She fishes my phone out and scrambles away. I wrestle with
my instinct to drag her back to my side, but
there’s
too much shit to take care of.
Soon
you’ll have her to yourself
, I promise myself.

I look down at the man lying on his front. I have a
suspicion
who
the fucker is, but my mind is still a
few steps behind in processing the situation. I flip him over and sit back on
my heels.

The lower half of his face is covered with blood, courtesy
of the injury to his most likely broken nose. There aren’t any bruises yet, but
based on the ferocity of Ludlow’s kicks, I suspect his face will swell within
hours. In his left hand is a
karambit
, curved and
deadly. My heart stops at the drops of blood on the tip and I jerk my gaze to
look at Maggie in alarm. She’s shivering in the cold, hugging herself, but
doesn’t seem to be in pain.

“Bo, is Ludlow injured?” I ask without looking away from
Maggie.

A few seconds. “Fuck! Yes, there’s a gash in his left thigh.”

On cue, Ludlow moans in agony. I suspect he’s been riding on
adrenaline and is feeling the injury for the first time.

I hear rustling behind me and assume Bo is administering
first aid.

As long as it’s not her
blood, I don’t give a fuck.

Using my sleeve to keep my prints from contaminating the evidence,
I take the blade out of Bleed’s grip and throw it a few feet away. I pat him
down, but find no other weapons. I wish the bastard were awake to resist
arrest. I’d be more than happy to put a bullet in his head and claim
self-defense. I settle for slamming him roughly onto his front again, hoping I
break something else, and cuffing his hands. Then I send a fist into his back,
aiming for his kidney, and smile when I hear a low groan.

Glancing over at Bo, I say wryly, “This is one of the most
feared criminals to terrorize the five boroughs. He’s eluded every agency for
years, but has been brought to justice by a woman half my size.”

Bo smirks at me, his eyes filled with the same relief I
suspect is in mine. “I’m glad you finally found someone who can protect you,
Rowan.”

“Ass,” I say with a tired smile. Now that I can see with my
own eyes that she’s safe, I’m starting to feel the adrenaline crash.

Once we hear the sirens, everything moves quickly.

Bleed and Ludlow are loaded up on stretchers to be taken to
the hospital, accompanied by a couple of cops to ensure they don’t cause any
trouble on the ride.

As soon as someone steps forward to take charge of the crime
scene, I stand up, stalk over to Maggie, and yank her into my arms. Everything
and everyone fades into the background. I keep repeating “thank God” over and
over again.

She doesn’t say a word, hides her face in my sternum, and
starts to sob softly.

Cradling her head, I hold her tightly, needing the physical
proof that she’s okay. Her cinnamon scent wraps around me like a caress. She
feels so fucking fragile and I could have lost her so damn easily. My own eyes
moisten and I press my cheek against her silky hair. I can’t get close enough,
my embrace almost bruising in its force, but she doesn’t appear to mind,
burrowing her nose into my chest.

I dip my head and whisper into her ear, “Angel, I’m sorry
for everything. I love you. I love you so much. Please forgive me for being an
ass.”

She stills and tilts her face. Wariness gleams in her wet
eyes and I grimace at the pain I’ve caused her.

“What did you say?” she whispers.

I nuzzle my nose against hers and murmur fiercely and
passionately against her lips. “I love you. I love you more than anything in
the world.”

“You do?” Her eyes brighten and in the next instant, she scowls
fiercely, a deep crease between her brows. “You told me you couldn’t give me
what I wanted a few days ago. What changed between then and now?”

I smile ruefully, knowing I deserve her skepticism.
Threading my fingers through her soft curls, I say, “You being in danger cut
through my own bullshit.”

“Extreme circumstances amplify emotions. We got together
after the first attack. How do I know you’re not—

I tip her chin and capture her lips, silencing the
ridiculous garbage coming out of her mouth. A kiss is insufficient to express
how I feel, but I try. I rein in my feral instincts and cup her precious face, taking
her mouth gently. With every soft brush of my lips, I tell her how much I’ve
missed her. With every small foray of my tongue, I let her know how much I
desire her, crave her. With every stroke of my thumbs against her soft cheeks,
I convey how much I adore her. How much I worship her.

How much I love her.

I ease back, meet her searching gaze, and say, “Forgive me
for being blind. I love you, angel. More than life itself.”

Love and astonishment bloom in her eyes and gradually spread
over her face, down her body until she glows with incandescence from every
pore. If she were beautiful to me before, now she is radiantly exquisite. I
know I will never see another lovelier sight in my life.

“I love you too,” she says, tears leaking from her eyes.

My whole body floods with pleasure at her words. I kiss her
deeply, tasting her sweetness through the saltiness of her tears.

After long minutes, she pulls away, narrows her eyes and
then sends her little fist into my stomach. The punch doesn’t have a lot of
power behind it, but I grunt obligingly, knowing she has a point to make.

“That’s for breaking my heart.” Another pummel, harder than
the first. “And for waiting until it’s almost too late to come to me.”

Aching with remorse, I raise her fist and kiss her knuckles.
“I was an idiot. It’ll never happen again. I will never hurt you again,” I vow.

“You’d better not or I’ll kick your ass!” She glowers
adorably.

My
little warrior
.
I throw my head back and laugh with happiness and
relief. She is letting me off far too easily, but I’m not going to complain. “I’m
counting on it.” Then I lean down and take her lips again.

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