Bullets & Bonfires

In the four years since I left, the neighborhood hasn’t changed all that much. Well, our childhood home looks different. Cared for. That has to be my brother’s doing. It sure as hell hadn’t looked this nice when we were kids.

Gravel crunches next to me. My scared heart slams against my ribs, sweat trickles down my back.

Not Chad. Not Chad. Not Chad.

My left hand curls around the steering wheel so tight, my knuckles hurt. In my other hand, I grasp my keys. Chad’s in jail.

Finally, it registers that it’s Liam’s patrol car pulling in.

I’m safe.

Deep breath. In and out.

I glance over and a shaky smile curves my lips. Liam holds up a few fingers, indicating he’s on the phone and will be right out.

Take your time.

No doubt he’s on the phone with Vince. A mixture of joy, relief, and a few complicated emotions I can’t name, war inside me.

Liam’s here. For me.

Correction, Liam’s here to do a favor for my brother.

A few seconds later his door swings open and he stalks toward my car. My stomach flips with anticipation. I haven’t been near Liam in so long.

For the millionth time, I wish I’d said no when the hospital told me to call my brother. Mortification twisted my insides the whole time I tried to explain to him what happened. He ordered me home like I was a naughty teenager instead of an adult. Now Liam’s here to make my humiliation complete.

How many times did my brother and I take refuge at Liam’s house when my mother went on a bender or one of her boyfriends smacked her around? Turns out, I’m no better than she was.

I wheeze out a painful breath. Allowing Liam to see me in this condition almost hurts more than my actual injuries. I’ve idolized him, crushed on him, loved him since I was a kid. Resisting his masculine beauty, wicked sense of humor and habit of protecting me was impossible.

I may have fallen for Liam a long time ago.

But he was never going to catch me.

I know that, and yet I can’t stop the fluttering in my stomach.

I’d never be more than little Bree to him. Vince’s baby sister. Not Brianna who finished near the top of her high school class and was accepted into a competitive psychology program. Not the Brianna who’s been accepted to a prestigious university to finish my master’s degree.

Now? He’ll see me as pathetic and broken Brianna. Crawling home after her boyfriend beat the crap out of her. As a deputy sheriff in our small hometown, I’m sure he sees women like me all the time. Pathetic, weak, and stupid women who mistake smooth lines, out-of-control jealousy, and lavish gifts for love.

I let out a final sigh and paste on a fake smile as I step out of my car to greet him. My stupid heart stumbles all over itself as I take in every masculine inch. In the sunlight, copper highlights glint throughout his familiar coffee brown hair. It’s long enough for me to run my fingers through—not that he’d ever allow that. His full lips may look soft and inviting, but I know all too well how firm and obstinate they can be. All the boyish charm I remember has been replaced with a hard-faced, and hard-bodied—but I choose to ignore that for the moment—man. Liam’s easy swagger radiates confidence and safety. Two things I desperately need at the moment.

As he meets my eyes, his lips curve into a tender half-smile, reminding me why I’m here. The small spark of excitement at seeing him fizzles. Pity, plain as day, is written all over his handsome face. He holds out his arms to me. “Come here, baby girl. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

My traitorous body quivers at the sound of his smooth, deep voice. For a brief second, I’m thrown back to the night of my high school graduation when he used those same arms to shove me away when my brother caught us kissing.

Apparently, my body forgot the sting of rejection, because I rush into his waiting arms. Throwing myself against him, I allow myself a few seconds of safe, simple comfort. His familiar woodsy scent conjures up a lot of fond memories.

The moment his sturdy arms band around me, a ragged sob tears out of my throat. He runs one big hand over my hair, and makes soft soothing noises.

“I got you, Bree. You’re safe now.”

I never want him to let me go.

CHAPTER TWO

Rage boils inside me at the sight of the once-vibrant girl in my arms. Big, bug-eyed sunglasses or not, I caught another glimpse of the bruises on her face before she buried her head against my chest.

“Tell me what happened, Bree. Who did this to you?”

Her muffled whimper makes me regret questioning her so soon. But I have to know who did this so I can plan how to kill them.

My hands curl into fists and I struggle to straighten them out and keep running them over Bree’s back. If I could carry her pain, I’d do it. No question.

She flinches, and I hesitate. Where else is she hurt? An unfamiliar, out-of-control sensation threatens to blow the top of my head off as I consider the possibilities.

Nothing in my professional training prepared me for this. Maybe that makes me a shitty cop. I don’t know. I’ve dealt with DV victims before. Locked up plenty of husbands who were too quick with their fists.

It made me angry every single time.

But nothing like this.

“Honey,” I say gently, trying to keep my voice calm and professional. “Is Chad the one who hurt you?”

It’ll take everything in me not to hunt Chad down and beat the living fuck out of him if he did this to my little Bree. I need to know every single detail so I can fix this for her.

One more sniffle from Bree threatens to shatter me, and I wrap my arms around her tighter.

Against my body, she seems fragile and tiny. What kind of “man” hurts a woman?

Slowly, she unwraps her arms from around my waist before I’m ready to let her go.

Shoving the sunglasses up and settling them on top of her head, she brushes a few stray tears off her cheeks. One look at the full extent of the bruising sends me back into murderous-rage territory.

She must sense my fury, because she quickly tugs the sunglasses back down. “It looks worse than it feels. I’m okay, really.”

I was in enough fights as a teenager to know she’s lying. Her bright blue eyes may have temporarily lost the sparkle I remember, but her courage reassures me.

“Thank you for being here, Liam.”

“I’m always here for you.” Sure wish I’d been there to prevent this.

Our eyes lock and I nod, hoping to encourage her to tell me what happened. “Tell me the truth. Did Chad do this?” I ask again.

She nods slowly and I suck in a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm. “Where is he now?”

“Empire County Jail,” she whispers.

“Good.”

My eyes take more of her in. I haven’t seen her in at least two years. Bree isn’t a little girl anymore. She’s grown into a stunning woman.

A woman who just got knocked around by her boyfriend, dickhead.

“Please don’t—”

“Don’t what, Bree?”

“Get involved. He’s in jail and the judge denied bail. I’ll be fine. I’m okay,” she says, but I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince herself or convince me.

Okay my ass.

Unwanted memories of her high school graduation flood my brain. Sweet little Bree had curled herself around my body, stared up into my face, and informed me she wasn’t a kid any more before asking me to be her first. Like an idiot, I’d given in and kissed her. Wanted to do a hell of a lot more.

Vince catching his best friend making out with his sister behind their house had not gone over well.

In the academy, I’d been tasered, tear-gassed, and pepper-sprayed, but pushing Bree away to save my friendship with her brother remains the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Because I really, really wanted to be her first.