Heat Flash (10 page)

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Authors: Taylor Anne

Tags: #Romance, #Police, #spicy, #Suspense, #stalker

BOOK: Heat Flash
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She could easily get lost in his touch forever. Let him take care of her and all of her worries. He would protect her. Keep her safe.
Love her?

Faltering, she shoved his chest until she was no longer sheltered in his arms. The instant she broke contact, a chill ran over her. Alone, once again. But she had to keep him at arms’ length in order to fight the sensual emotions that were beginning to betray her. She gazed into his eyes and saw burning fire instead of ice. She shook her head and backed away.

He ran his hands through his hair. “Dammit, Ken. You’re killing me.” His jaw tightened, and he drew in long, deep breaths, struggling to reign in his emotions. He paced the floor for several minutes without speaking a word. Finally, he stopped in front of the sofa and turned questioning blue eyes toward her. His voice tightly controlled, he rasped, “Why didn’t you call and tell me what you’ve been going through?”

“I figured this was something the locals could handle. I didn’t think the FBI needed to be called in.” She turned to stare out of the window, into the moonless night.

“Don’t give me that crap.” Suddenly he was right behind her. He took her by the shoulders, gently turning her to face him. At that moment, terror was visible in his eyes. “Two dead rats, two flat tires, prank calls. And, someone trying to run you off the road. You really think the locals can handle this?”

“Don’t forget this.” She bent down and picked up the photo off the end table. Something so normal and harmless as a glossy print suddenly felt vile in her hands. Relief coursed through her when she released it, shoving the picture into his hands.

She watched for his reaction. He stared at the picture for several seconds without speaking, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Anger sparked in hard eyes that came up to meet hers.

She straightened her back and faced him, eye to eye. She knew Marks wouldn’t keep these events from Mason. She just didn’t realize it would be so soon. “Like I said, Mason, it’s business. The only reason to involve you would’ve been personal. And, remember, there is no personal between us. Let the police do their jobs.”

The vein on his forehead throbbed. She’d said the wrong thing.

His eyes bore into her. His mouth opened, as if to speak, but instead, he quickly clamped his lips together, without uttering a word. His fists clenched as he stalked to the other side of the room. He paced, constantly running his hands through his hair. Anger rolled off his trembling body. He was like a caged panther. Edgy and ready to devour whatever, or whoever, got in its way.

“Will you just tell me exactly what’s been going on? Have you noticed anyone following you?” he asked quietly.

“No, I haven’t. No one sticks out in my mind.” Her voice was flat, emotionless. She had no fight left in her. She was ready to surrender. Making her way to the sofa, she sat, pulling a throw pillow onto her lap. Knowing Mason’s competency in handling dangerous cases, she bowed her head in shame that she had not trusted him before now.

“What about the calls? Do you recognize the voice? Anything sound familiar? Background noises?” Mason continued to pace in front of the fireplace while grilling her about the calls and her surroundings.

“No and no.” She fidgeted with the pillows in her lap before bringing her eyes up to meet his. “The caller id is always blocked. No name or number.”

“Anyone strange hanging around or a face that always shows up whenever you’re in town?” Mason crouched in front of her, fixing her with a stare and taking her ice-cold hands into his. His warmth soothed her. Her eyes lifted to meet his. His interrogation made her realize the importance of what was going on. She needed to pay attention to the details so they could figure this out. In one way, it felt like defeat. But in another, it felt good knowing he would be there to give his help and support.

“No, I don’t recognize anything out of the ordinary.”

He leaned closer, straining to hear the faint words. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He cradled her face in his hands and held her stare until she regained some of her strength.

Finally, she stood. “Mason, I don’t know what’s going on here, but it has me spooked. Yeah, maybe I should have called you myself, I just didn’t know if it would’ve been a good idea.”

He laughed. “No, you’re just too independent and stubborn to ask for help. Especially mine.” Pulling himself off the floor, he reached unsteady hands to her. He gently tugged, taking them both down to sit on the couch. “And yes, it’s personal.” His gravelly voice sent a thrill from her head to her toes before his warm lips quickly covered hers.

She allowed the brief contact before turning away. Her eyes landed on the picture Mason had laid back down on the coffee table. The red slash across her face still gave her the creeps. She turned to Mason. “So, what do we do next about this crazy person?”

“You’ll come stay at my place until this is over.”

She shook her head.

“Or, I’ll stay here.”

“No.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “You have to do something to protect yourself. If he sees someone with you, maybe he’ll turn his focus elsewhere.”

“No. I’m not letting him take my independence. We’ll have to figure out something else.”

“Ken, you don’t need to be alone.”

“But if I’m never alone, he may stop. I don’t want him to stop, I want him caught,” she bit out angrily.

He sighed heavily. “You do have a point there,” he admitted. “Just be careful. Call me if anything happens. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” He paused. “And, when I call or text, answer me.”

She smiled, chagrined. “Sorry about that. Mandy and I were busy shopping, that’s why I didn’t reply. Your text said you were in Beaumont. On a case?”

He tensed next to her. “No. I went to see my mother again.”

“Really?” She knew he had gone right after the car accident. It surprised her that he would make another trip to Beaumont to see her so soon. The last time she mentioned him visiting his mom, he blew her off.

He filled her in on his recent visit with Julia. “So now she claims she is a changed woman and wants to make up for lost time.”

Kendall placed a comforting hand on his arm. His muscles bunched beneath her touch. “Maybe you should give her a chance. Time changes people sometimes.”

“That’s bullshit. Seven years ago, she said those same things to me. Next thing I knew, she was gone again. I don’t think she has it in her to love anyone besides herself.”

Mason had confided in Kendall more than once the hurt he felt as a child growing up without a mother. He’d always wished Julia would come back into his life and stay. Now, as an adult he may have that chance. If he would open his heart and let his mother in.

“Take it one step at a time and don’t shut her out. You never know what could happen.”

“Let’s get through your mess and get you safe before we start wondering if Julia is a changed woman.” He tweaked her nose. “Promise me you’ll call if anything else happens. In the meantime, someone will be tailing you at all times. It’ll be either Marks, Bobby, or myself. No one else knows the FBI will be involved in this case. Marks wants to keep it between us. So don’t mention my name or Bobby’s to anyone at the precinct.”

“Bobby. Yeah, I guess he’s going to be pretty pissed when he finds out.”

“I know the feeling,” he grumbled before standing. “You sure about this? I could crash right here on the couch.”

“I’m sure,” she insisted. She followed him to the front door. Since the conversation about his mother, a deep longing darkened his eyes. “Mason, take care of yourself.”

He laughed. Genuinely laughed. The sound reverberated through the room and filled her heart with joy.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“You’re the one with a psycho following you, and you’re worried about me taking care of myself. Ken, you’re too good.” He bent down and briefly kissed her on the lips before stepping onto the porch. “Lock the door as soon as I leave. And call me,” he ordered.

Kendall turned the deadbolt then peered through the window as he walked to his Tahoe. Before getting inside, he glanced back. Their eyes locked. That familiar pull low in her belly was back. His gaze was so intense, he could have been standing right next to her.

Finally, she broke eye contact and pulled the curtain closed. She double-checked all the locks in the house before pouring a drink and heading to the bathroom for a relaxing bubble bath by candlelight. A soothing glass of wine would surely help her sleep tonight. Or, would it be the memories of Mason’s lips on hers, and his admission that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her?

After her bath, she made one more walk through the house making sure the doors and windows were secure. Stopping in front of the same window where earlier she watched Mason drive off, she peeked nervously through the curtains. An uneasy sensation nagged at her.

****

Long after the detective left her house, the man sat in his vehicle and watched her windows. He could only wonder what the two of them had been doing. Probably screwing each other senseless. What would she do if he went to her and took her body as his own? He was no stranger to her. She would let him in her house. Then he would know for certain the two of them had been having sex. The scent would still be in the air, and on her.

The curtain in the window moved. Through the darkness he could see her face peeking through. Her hair hung loose, and wet. Probably just showered. Her body would be soft and supple. He could pick up where the
detective
left off. He would satisfy her more. She may not enjoy it like the prostitute last night did, but he would have fun fucking her. Licking her. Biting her. Yeah, he definitely wanted a piece of her.

He stroked himself through his jeans before lowering the zipper.
Damn uncomfortable in the car.
He should go to her. After he screwed her, he could get her to talk about the money. Then he would toss her aside like he did the prostitute. That’s all women were good for anyway.

The curtain slipped shut, and the lights went off in the house. “You’re next bitch,” he moaned as his head rolled back against the headrest.

Chapter Eight

The sun was just descending when Kendall pulled into her driveway the next evening. A warm breeze brought the smell of impending rain, ruffling her hair as she climbed out of her SUV. She brushed the strands back impatiently, lifting her head at the sound of a motor drawing near. Her knees weakened ever so slightly when she recognized Mason’s Tahoe.

“Hey,” she said as he parked behind her. Her surprise that he was here so soon after his last visit was edged out by the joy of seeing him. “What’s up?”

He held up a large Popeye’s Fried Chicken bag. “Brought supper. Hope you haven’t eaten already.” He moved to the open door of her Rogue, coming close enough she could smell his light after-shave—an enticing combination of spice and pine. She held her breath as he reached around to grab the last of the grocery bags, juggling them without dropping the fried chicken.

The smell of the food caused a rumble in her stomach, and Mason’s eyebrows arched up at the sound.

“Thanks.” She laughed to cover her embarrassment and shrugged. “I don’t know if my stomach would have waited long enough to cook this spaghetti.”

“Save that for tomorrow night. Let’s eat this while it’s still hot.”

Mason set out the food while she put away the groceries. When he reached up to grab glasses out of the cabinet, his T-shirt stretched across taut muscles and his faded jeans hugged his sexy ass. Kendall’s fingers tightened on the can of tomato sauce in her hand. Suddenly, Mason turned around. Busted.

The can fell from her shaky hands, hitting the table and rolling to the floor. She bent and picked up the tomato sauce. When she straightened, she caught him staring at her. Their gazes locked and held for a few breath-stealing moments. Using all her willpower, Kendall forced her eyes away from the ocean blue of his, but not before she caught his smile.

He was silent as he poured tea in their glasses. She could only guess at what he was thinking. Had he seen the yearning in her face? Could he tell she would give anything to rewind the past four years and feel comfortable in his company...his embrace?

They made small talk during dinner, and as they finished, an unreasonable twinge of panic took hold. Mason would leave soon...and she wouldn’t know when she might see him again. “Would you like a beer?” she blurted, hoping it didn’t come out as desperate as she felt. “We could drink them outside on the patio. The rain’s holding off, and it’s turned into a nice evening.”

He crooked that smile again. “I’d love one.”

They opened their beers and settled in her deck chairs, side by side. He picked up his drink and took a long swig while eyeing her over the bottle. Nervously, she picked at the label on her own beer and avoided his gaze.

“Have you had any more pranks, or calls?” he asked.

She set her beer bottle down and turned to face him. “No, there haven’t been anymore incidents.” She paused. Mason lifted his brows expectantly. Sighing, she said, “But he’s still calling. If I don’t answer the home phone, he calls my cell. And keeps calling until I pick up.”

“What does he say?”

“Most of the time he doesn’t say anything, just laughs. A creepy laugh.” She ran a hand over her chilled arms. Her fingers were damp from the condensation on the beer bottle. “When he does talk, he usually calls me nasty names. One time he said something that didn’t make sense.”

“What was that?”

“He was mumbling at first, but then said, ‘you know what he did with it. I’ll find out when I get to you.’”

“What did he mean by that?”

“I have no idea.”

Mason’s jaw tightened, his gaze staring off in the direction of the setting sun. He seemed lost in thought for several seconds before he finally spoke. “Do you know much about your old boss, Tom? Did he ever talk about family?”

“Tom? What does he have to do with this?” Tom’s death seemed so long ago. Kendall didn’t see how he fit into this conversation.

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