Bullets & Bonfires

Another sigh. “The chokehold. I tried not to make a big deal out of it, but you might want to talk to her.”

Christ, I don’t even know how to start that conversation. “Thanks, I will.”

“I got a call in downtown Empire,” Keegan informs me. “So that’s where I’m headed for fuck knows how long.”

“I hear you. I’m out in East Bumfuck all day.”

After I hang up, Brady glances over. “Did I understand that correctly? You adopted a dog with this chick?”

“She’s not a chick.”

“So, is this the girl Linda was all bent out of shape about?” he asks, unable to let anything go.

“Yes. You want to maybe put on your cop hat so we can do our jobs?”

He lets it go for now, but I’m sure he’ll needle me again at some point.

In our large, sprawling, but sparsely populated part of the county, the weekends can either be crazy or so boring writing tickets seems like grade-A entertainment.

After reviewing more medical records and trying to track her down for a couple days, Brady and I finally located Allen Davis’s mother and are on our way to question her.

The supposed former ER nurse greets us in a gruff, no-nonsense manner.

We go through a carefully crafted list of questions, circling back a few times when her answers are evasive.

“Why didn’t you insist they go to the emergency room right away?” Brady asks for the second time.

“They’re in debt up to their ears. He didn’t need another medical bill hanging around his neck,” she explains.

“Mrs. Davis, your granddaughter’s injuries were pretty severe,” I say gently.

Her shoulders drop and her mouth twists as if she doesn’t want to say the words forming in her head. “I warned them if they didn’t take her in, I was going to call child services on them,” she finally admits.

This is new information.

“I didn’t want my son railroaded by the system.”

Something about her answer seems off, but I let the comment go for now.

“Listen, I know he didn’t hurt his baby girl. It was either an accident or she did it.” Mrs. Davis hasn’t once used the girlfriend’s name and that deepens my suspicions of what actually happened. “I didn’t raise my son that way.”

Although she suffers from an inflated opinion of her son, she seems to care a lot about her granddaughter.

“Has Allison ever had any similar injuries?” Brady asks.

She clamps her lips shut. My fists clench at my sides and I fight to relax my posture. The kid’s record was clean, but maybe we missed something.

“No. Nothing this bad,” she answers after staring Brady down for a few seconds. She cocks her head. “Now, unless you two want to help me muck some stalls, I have horses to take care of.” Mrs. Davis doesn’t wait for us to leave. She simply walks past us and out to the barn without a backwards glance.

“We need to dig some more,” I mutter.

“Still like the girlfriend for it?” Brady asks once we’re back in the car.

“Something isn’t right.”

On the way back to the station we run over a few different scenarios.

“He had to be, what? Sixteen when the daughter was born? Maybe there’s a neglect or endangering charge that was sealed. That might explain why he didn’t seek medical help right away.”

He nods, drumming his fingers over the notebook in his lap. “Why cover for Nancy if she hurt his little girl?”

“I’ve seen parents choose lovers over their children too many times to count.” Starting with Bree’s mother.

“I’ll never fucking understand that,” Brady huffs.

“Me either. Unless he really thinks it was an accident. He didn’t strike me as particularly smart.”

“No way. Medical report was clear. She didn’t do that on the dresser.”

“He’s not the sharpest crayon in the box. You really think he read a medical report? Maybe he took whatever Nancy told him at face value.”

He shrugs. “Still nail him on endangering. That house was fucking disgusting. No way to raise a kid.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

He scribbles down a few notes, then closes his notepad and sits back. “So, you’re still babysitting?”

“I’m not babysitting. I’m helping out a friend.”

“The friend you now have a dog with?”

“We’re helping Keegan out by watching the dog. Not sure we’re keeping her yet.”

“Do you realize how many times you just said we?”

“No, please enlighten me.”

He shakes his head, not offended by my sarcasm or deterred by it unfortunately. “You’re in deep. This girl’s why you haven’t been to your apartment in days?”

“Stalker.”

Brady snickers. “Ya live right next door. How am I not supposed to notice?”

“I don’t know. Pay attention to your own shit?”

“You should’ve tried fucking her out of your system instead of getting a dog.”

My fingers clench around the steering wheel. “You’re lucky I’m driving or I’d punch you right now.”

“Ohh, so you did fuck her.”

“Is fucking your answer to all of life’s problems?”

“Pretty much.” A little quieter he adds, “Next thing you know, you’ll be marrying this chick. Then who’s going to be my wingman?”

“You’ll figure something out,” I answer, not bothering to deny his assumption.

I’m relieved and disappointed to find Bree asleep when I return to Vince’s. I almost trip over Kimber, who’s stationed outside the bedroom door.

“What’s wrong girl?” I asking, crouching down to scratch her ears. She pushes her wet nose into my other hand and lets me love her up for a few minutes. “Were you a good girl? Did you watch out for Bree?” Her short nub of a tail wags harder with every word I say to her.

“All right, I guess you deserve a cookie.” I pad into the kitchen and grab the box of dog treats, pulling one out.

Stems from a bunch of carnations stick out of the trash, catching my attention. I tug them out, wondering where they came from, then shove them back.

I’ll solve that mystery in the morning.

I toss Kimber her treat and close the bedroom door behind me. Exhausted, I slide into bed, pull her into my arms, and immediately fall asleep.

Bree should never doubt how I feel about her because I wake up a few hours later with one of my hands under her tank top cupping her breast. Definitely the first time I’ve molested a woman in my sleep. Her nipple’s hard against the palm of my hand and she moans, turning toward me. My hand skims down her belly, dipping into her underwear. “Bree, are you awake?”

She sleepily mumbles a few noises as my lips find their way to her neck, kissing and licking. Her legs spread and her back arches, inviting me to slip a finger inside. Christ, she’s so hot and wet it fully wakes me up.

I drag her underwear down her legs, tossing them to the floor. We need to start spending nights at my apartment where she can sleep naked.

My mouth finds her nipple, sucking hard until she gasps, coming fully awake. “Liam?”

“Need you,” I mumble.

She wriggles her tank top off, tossing it on the floor with her underwear. Next, her hands are at the drawstring of my shorts, yanking it loose and shoving them down my hips. We’re warm and hot, skin on skin. Tangled up in the sheets.

“Bree.” Her name comes out ras

py and desperate which is exactly how I feel. It’s so dark I can barely make out her features. My hands do the work, tracing every soft, heated curve, helping me position myself between her thighs. I press my cock against her entrance, the tight, wet heat beckoning me to take her hard and fast.

She wiggles under me and I drive inside her. “Fuck,” I breathe out, stopping to enjoy the feel of her around me. I gather her in my arms, holding her tight.

My hips flex slow and steady, savoring this time with her.

“Liam. Wait. Stop, stop, stop.”

Her words come out in a scared rush and I immediately pull out and draw back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I can’t.” She’s breathing hard and sits up, scooting back until her body hits the headboard.

I reach out and cup her cheek, trace my fingers down to her neck. It’s so damn dark, I can’t make out her expression, but her pulse beats wildly under my fingers. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. It’s not that.”

I reach over to flick on the lamp, but she stops me. “Don’t. Please. Not yet.”

The problem hits me like a freight train and all my rage roars to the surface. I’ve always suspected Chad didn’t stop at hitting Bree.

I’m a fucking moron for not figuring this out sooner and being more careful with her.

I knew it. Knew this was too soon. Too quick. She can pretend she’s okay until I do something to trigger her. I don’t want to be the one to ever hurt her.

I knew damn well she wasn’t ready for this, yet I went ahead and did it anyway.

“I need to see you, Bree.” This time she doesn’t protest when I lean over and turn on the small lamp on the nightstand. It throws off a bare circle of pale light, but it’s enough to observe her panicked expression.

“Tell me,” I say gently.

Her eyes squeeze shut and she ducks her head. “I can’t, Liam. Please. Not right now. Not here with you.”

“Sweetheart.” I turn so I’m sitting next to her and throw the sheet over my legs, then pull her into my lap. She loops her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder.

“You don’t have to give me details.” Because fuck, if I hear them right now, in this moment when I’m drowning in my love for her, in my guilt, in my need to do anything I can to make things right, I might lose my mind. “But I need to know what upset you so I don’t do it again.”