For You (The 'Burg Series) (26 page)

Jack’s eyes shifted to his daughter, his head lifting like a turtle, the muscles in his neck standing out before he looked back to Colt. “You keep her safe, you hear?”

Colt nodded, Jack opened the door and Colt stood in the frame watching until Jack disappeared in the RV and then watching longer.

Finally he shut and locked the door. Then he went through the entire house, every room, even the second bedroom, and checked doors and windows, making sure they were secure, blinds closed, Feb and him shut in tight.

As he did this his mind scanned the quiet, night streets he’d just driven through.
 

He’d taken his time getting home, cruising the blocks, round and round, looking for a silver Audi which Denny Lowe drove. This wasn’t the neighborhood for Audis, folks around here bought American made and he didn’t find one. Only when dawn was kissing the horizon and he was far enough out that it’d be tough to get to Colt’s on foot, Colt drove home.

When the house was secure, he went to his bedroom and pulled back the covers. She’d made the bed. He didn’t bother except yesterday when he’d made it up for her.

Then he went to the couch and picked up Feb. She was out, dead weight, didn’t even lift her arms to hold on. He carried her to his bed and set her in it. She rolled to her belly, lifted a leg and shoved her hand under her cheek on the pillow. Colt pulled the covers up to her shoulder.

Wilson jumped up and resumed his position at her feet, not picky about where he got his shuteye, just as long as Feb was there.

Colt found he was growing fond of that cat.

Colt took off his clothes, pulled on his shorts, unholstered his gun and put it and his phone by the bed and even knowing there would be holy hell to pay in the morning, he crawled in beside her. He wasn’t going to be far, not even as far as the couch.
 

Why he could handle a man travelling the country and hacking up people as some fanatical show of affection for Feb and he couldn’t handle that same man breaking into her house, jacking off and leaving mementos, he didn’t know. He didn’t dwell. She wasn’t going to be far away from him that night.

Once he’d moved in with Jack and Jackie, Colt used to be a heavy sleeper. But after Feb broke it off with him, he started moving in his sleep. He’d had a queen with Melanie and he was always waking her, never enough room. She said she liked it when he woke her. She tried to cuddle which Colt didn’t like much considering his body was active when it was unconscious. He’d bought the king after she left, plenty of room.

Now with Feb so far away, he felt the bed was way too damn big.

He shifted into the middle and pulled her close not worried he’d wake her with his movements; he knew he’d get no sleep.

Her cat started purring for some ungodly reason. It was loud. Now Colt knew how Wilson got his nickname.

He listened to Wilson’s purrs and Feb’s deep breathing and as the light filtered strong around the blinds, he fell asleep.

Fifteen minutes later, his phone rang and he woke up.

Chapter Six

Marie

“Yeah?” I heard and my eyes blinked open.

When they did I could swear I saw the line of Colt’s back, sloped because he was up on a forearm the covers down to his waist. He had his phone to his ear.

I stared as he said, “Right, be there as soon as I can. Maybe an hour.”

He flipped the phone shut and threw it on the nightstand.

Groggy, still partly asleep and fighting it, I got up on a forearm too.

“What are you doin’ here?” I asked, though I kind of wondered what I was doing there too. I’d fallen asleep on the couch even though Dad tried to get me to go to bed. But I was spooked and regardless of the fact I was old enough to take care of myself and had been doing so with questionable success for a long time, I still didn’t want to be far from my Dad.

Colt turned to me and I noticed he looked wiped, his eyes shadowed and tired. I noticed this but I had bigger things on my fuzzy mind.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he said softly.

“What are you doin’ here?” I asked again.

Wilson, realizing we were awake, decided it was breakfast time and we should be informed of that. He started up the bed toward me meowing.

“Feb, go back to sleep. I’ll get Jack to come in.”

Wilson made it to me and head butted my hand. I automatically started giving him scratches and the meowing mixed with loud purring.

But my mind was still on Colt who was
still
in bed with me.

 
“What are you doin’ in this bed?”

He gave me a look before he threw the covers back and got out.

“I got work,” he said, not answering my question. “I’ll feed the cat.”

He started to the door but I threw the covers back too and got quickly to my feet.

“You can’t crawl into bed with me,” I informed him.

He turned in the door. “February, we’re not fightin’ about this, not only do I not have the time, I also don’t have the energy or the inclination.”

I was a dog with a bone. “You carried me to bed and got in it with me!”

My voice was rising. Colt ignored it and walked out the door.

Wilson, feeling this was a healthy indication he’d be getting breakfast soon, jumped off the bed I left him in and pranced out after him.

For my part, I stomped.

“Colt!” I snapped when I hit the hall.

He didn’t reply.

By the time I hit the kitchen he was reaching into the dish drainer to get the kitty bowl I’d washed last night.

“We need to talk about that kiss yesterday,” I announced, not really wanting to talk about it but feeling, considering this morning’s circumstances, that we needed to get things straight.

“We will,” Colt agreed. “Not now,” Colt evaded.

“Now.”

He pulled open the top of the cat food tin but speared me with a glance. “Not now.”

“Now.”

He turned fully to me; Wilson noticed this delay and started meowing again.

“I got work,” he repeated.

“You already said that.”

“This conversation’s gonna take time. I’m tellin’ you I don’t have that.”

“Well, make it!”

He took one step to me and had his hand wrapped around the back of my neck so fast I didn’t even get a breath in while he was doing it. It was then I felt a little bit of Lore’s pain. I’d seen Colt move fast yesterday when he took Lore down, I’d even seen him do it before he kissed me but I still wasn’t prepared for it.

He yanked me close and I almost didn’t get my hands up to break my fall, but I did and they landed on his chest.

“I got home at dawn. I was in that bed with you for half an hour. I was in it because I’m not takin’ any fuckin’ chances. Someone who can get through a door can get through a window. They get through the window, they get me first. Now, do
you
get me?”

My mind blanked, my stomach curled sickeningly and I stared at him.

“You found something last night,” I whispered.

He let me go and turned back to the cat food.

“Colt.”

Colt forked the food into the bowl. “We found something. When he visited, he spent time there.”

“Oh my God.”

I didn’t know what this meant but the escalation in Colt’s protection said it was no good. This wasn’t about a madman invading my mind by stealing my thoughts written on a page. This was something that freaked him out and he was a cop, I didn’t suspect much freaked him out.

He moved to put the food down for Wilson and Wilson settled down belly to the floor on all fours and stuck his face in it.

“What’d you find?”

He straightened and looked at me. “I’ll know more this mornin’. They were still working when I left.”

“What’d you find?”

“I gotta shower.”

“Colt –” I started but he was moving away.

I stared at the hall he disappeared into long after he disappeared. Even after I heard the shower go on in the master bath.
 

After awhile it hit me that he was protecting me with more than him keeping close, close enough to sleep in his huge bed with me. He was protecting me by not sharing and I decided to wipe my mind clean.

Some folk, I suspected, would want to know.

I didn’t want to know.

I knew enough and it was tearing at my insides. I could use a break.

By the time he came back out, hair wet, slicked back but still curling around his neck, dressed in jeans, boots, shirt, badge clipped to his belt, shoulder holster on, gun clipped in place, blazer bunched in his hand, I’d made coffee and toast. I’d also poured him some coffee and it was keeping warm in a travel mug.

He hit the kitchen, shrugging on his blazer and I was turned to him, one hand wrapped around his mug, the other hand holding up a plate with four slices of buttered toast.

“I made toast and coffee,” I said.

He was looking at my hands but when I spoke his eyes came to my face. Something in them struck me funny, not in a bad way, in a good way. That look settled in beside his smile from yesterday, the one that was still lodged in that private place deep inside.

When I thought he’d stop moving toward me, he didn’t and I had to jerk my arms to the sides to give him space and he took it. His hand came up and around the back of my head, fingers in my hair, fisting and tugging down. I made a surprised noise that came from deep in my throat when I had no choice but to tilt my head back before his mouth came down on mine.

This kiss wasn’t hungry, wet and desperate. No tongues. It was hard, closed-mouthed and swift.

It still did a number on me and I felt a curl that I liked a lot between my legs.

He let me go, grabbed the mug and took the slice of toast off the top of the stack.

“We’ll talk about that kiss later too,” he said, turned and walked away. At the door he turned again and ordered, “Lock this after me. I’ll send Jack in. You’re not alone, Feb, ever. Not even in the storeroom at J&J’s. Not even to walk down to Meems’s. You move; you make sure you have a shadow. Yeah?”

I stood there still holding up the plate and nodded.

“Stay safe, baby,” he said, the cop authority gone from his voice, this statement was quiet and sweet and it strolled right into that private place inside me, took its seat and sat back, intending like the others to stay awhile.

“You too,” I replied and he left.

It took awhile for me to pull myself together. The only reason I did was because the door was unlocked and I hated it but that scared the shit out of me.

I put down the plate, walked into the living room and locked the door. On the way back to the kitchen, the phone rang.

I hit the kitchen and reached out to the phone. It was an old fashioned kitchen wall phone, yellow, boxy, with push buttons and a long, curly cord so you could wander the kitchen with it held in the crook of your neck while you were doing shit. I liked it mostly because I could imagine wandering Colt’s kitchen with it held in the crook of my neck.

I put it to my ear and said, “Hello?”

No one spoke.

I felt a curl again, it was north, in my belly, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“Hello?” I repeated, tentative this time.

“Um… hello, is Colt there?”

Oh shit, it was Melanie.

“Melanie?” I asked, though I didn’t want to.

“February?” she asked back and I knew she didn’t want to either.

Oh shit, shitshitshitshitshit.

“Uh… yeah. How’s it going?” Oh my God, I hated this.

“Um… it’s good. How’re you?” She hated it too.