Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men 1)

Did patching up bullet holes really take so freaking long? Or had the injury been worse than what people were telling me?

I rubbed the sides of my arms, so antsy and full of pent-up fear I wanted to scratch the wicked, terrifying sensation out of me with my bare claws.

“Miss Nolan, er, Randall, er…”

I whirled toward the approaching police officer. “Just Reese,” I assured him with a tense smile. “Did you question Jeremy yet? Do you know how he found me?”

I’d asked this same question earlier when he’d taken my initial statement, but at that point, no one had talked to Jeremy yet.

The officer—Mikrut, I think his name was—nodded. “Mr. Walden confessed that he tracked you through the phone bills he found in your parents’ house when he broke in recently. It took him a few days to get a computer techno friend to trace the extra line to you in Florida, and then it took him another couple of days to drive here. From the gas station receipts we found in his car, I believe he’s been in Waterford for at least seventy-two hours.”

I shivered. That meant he’d already been here when Mrs. Garrison had blackmailed Mason. And he’d been here when Mason and I had hooked up.

Shaking my head, I buried my face in my hands. “So, it didn’t matter that I moved halfway across the country, that I changed my—”

A comforting hand landed on my shoulder. “You won’t have to worry about him again. Not for a long time.”

With a snort, I lifted my face and sent him a disbelieving sneer. “Yeah, until his daddy gets this trial dropped too.”

Officer Mikrut shook his head. “Not after everything he did today.”

I blew out a breath. “So that gives me what…?”

“Let’s see. Two counts of attempted murder. Firing a weapon in a public school. Breaking and entering. Resisting arrest. I’d say…twenty to thirty years?” The cop shrugged.

I liked that guess. “Thank God.”

He smiled. “Have the doctors come out with an update yet? I really need to question—”

“No.” I shook my head savagely, not wanting to think about why it might be taking the doctor, or nurse, or anyone, so long to come back with an update. “Not yet.”

“Don’t worry so much,” he told me with a soft smile. “I’ve seen people pull through with wounds much worse than this one. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Thanks.” I nodded, but I wasn’t convinced.

Officer Mikrut drifted away to speak to a nurse. I hoped he got more information than I’d been getting. Feeling drained, I slumped onto the nearest bench in the quiet hospital hall just outside the stuffy waiting room and rested my head against the wall.

As I closed my eyes, someone sat next to me. “I got you a white chocolate mocha espresso.”

Tears filled my lashes and my throat burned. I shook my head. “I don’t think I could drink anything right now. But thank you.”

I reached out blindly and instantly found a warm hand.

“Come here,” Mason murmured and pulled me into his lap.

I curled into the fetal position and rested my cheek on his shoulder. As I soaked his shirt with tears, he kissed my hair.

“Eva’s going to be okay. I know it.”

I covered my mouth. “I still can’t believe he shot her. He shot my cousin.”

“I know. But she’s related to you; she’s tough. She’ll pull through.”

I clutched him hard. It was all still a lot to take in.

After Jeremy had put two rounds in the ceiling of Waterford County Community College, Mason had managed to elbow him in the face and wrestle the gun away moments before a swarm of law enforcement had shown up. Thanks to Eva.

Apparently, Jeremy had broken into my apartment this morning after I’d already left for class. Eva, running late, had intercepted him. He shot her—I know, I know, I still can’t believe I said that either—and then left her bleeding body lying on the ground outside the Mercers’ four-bay garage so he could find me at school.