Jacked (19 page)

“Who am I? Who are you?” Erin shot back.

“I’m his girlfriend,” Kara announced.

FUCK!
“No, she’s not.”

“Girlfriend?” Erin was obviously shocked.

“Yes,
girlfriend
. Adam and I are dating,” Kara said, then turned to me. “You didn’t tell her about us, did you?”

My head was about to explode. “There is no
us
, Kara. All right? Never was, never will be, so get that straight in your head right now.”

Kara’s face fell. “Why are you saying that? We’ve been together for months. You going to deny we had sex, too?”

Erin turned and shoved her way through the door.

Kara was yelling my name, but I ignored her and followed Erin.

She started walking through the parking lot, marching that pretty little ass again in a hurry to get away from me. Just like last time, I wasn’t having any of it. I jogged to catch up and stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “I’m not letting you walk home or whatever the hell it is you think you’re going to do, so turn around.”

She defiantly crossed her arms as the bitter February wind tossed her hair around. Damn, I loved her fearlessness. Still… “Easy way or the hard way, but I’m driving you home.”

She glared and then tried to step around me. That’s when I snagged her by the arms, clipped her thighs and hoisted her up over my shoulder. I expected her to fight it and she didn’t disappoint.

“Put me down,” she growled, kicking her legs a bit. “Your girlfriend in there will see us.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. Never was. I told you I’m not seeing anyone.”

Erin scoffed.

I used my good hand to swat her ass, making her twitch and yelp on my shoulder as I hauled her to my truck. “Call me a liar again.”

She gave me the death glare when I set her down next to the passenger door. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“It’s freezing cold, we’ve both had a long night, and sometimes I’m an asshole.” I opened the door, motioning for her to climb in. “But I don’t care how mad you get at me, there is no way in hell I’m letting you out of my sight.”

The drive to her house was short and silent and I knew she was pissed. I didn’t need anyone to clue me in on how much I’d just let her down. I pulled into her driveway, right behind her car, which I noted was still missing a plate. I needed to fix that.

She grabbed the door handle and in that split second I knew she wasn’t even going to say goodbye.

“Erin, wait.”

She had one foot out of the door with her bag in hand, and I felt like my heart that had been out of the equation for so long was being twisted and sliced seeing her go.

As soon as I had her eyes, words came rushing out like a confession.

“Last year, my unit was approached to do a pilot for a reality TV show. Things took off and now every Sunday night at nine o’clock I’m on television. The show is called
Car Jacked
and that’s why I have a film crew following me when I’m on duty.”

Her mouth was slightly agape for a second before crashing back into a hard line. “But you’re really just a police officer, right?”

I’d hoped at least that much was obvious.

Those sexy blue eyes narrowed with unanswered disappointment. “Is that why half of the restaurant was staring at you?”

I nodded, rubbing my hand over my head, fighting back the animosity at being an unwanted center of attention. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Was that so hard to admit?” She shook her head. “Why didn’t you just tell me? We could have avoided—”

“It’s…”
Christ, what do I say?
I peeled my eyes away from her obvious frustration, as if the windshield or the roof of her tiny red brick salt-box house were going to give me a brilliant answer. “It’s embarrassing. I hate it. It’s turned me into some sort of fucking novelty.” I glanced over at her, trying to read her, hoping she was getting what I was saying. “It takes away from what could be real… genuine.”

I watched her lips mash together, frowning at me; not the reaction I was hoping for. She took a few moments to mull it over, and then, as clear as a bell, I saw it dawn on her. “You think people only want the TV persona now, don’t you?”

Bingo. Smart and beautiful.
I drew in a deep breath, praying that she’d understand. “It’s not who I am. And now some of the wives of our unit members are getting harassed because of it. The cameras, the unwanted attention… I just… I just don’t want to bring that on you.”

She sat there in silence while each beat of my heart counted her time processing all of it. Something inside me needed her to know just exactly what she was getting herself into if she allows me to take this further. We hadn’t even touched upon my perversions or any of my other issues and already I was shoving her off.

Erin turned in her seat, surprising me. I could see the hurt in her eyes and the unspoken accusations of me being a complete jackass. “How do I know if you don’t even give it a chance, because an hour ago, I thought that’s what we were doing with getting to know each other. Wasn’t it?”

She stumped me with that one. Did I want to get tangled up in another woman after the last one gutted me so easily? Would she be understanding and strong enough to keep me from falling backwards into my old, numbing habits?

“Guess I was wrong,” she muttered. I watched her gather her purse and backpack, knowing she was pissed. “Doesn’t matter. I suppose that other cop back there at the diner said it for you. And the little waitress you’re sleeping with. You apparently date a lot and I’m really not in the mood to get played, so I guess this is goodbye. Have a nice life, Detective.”

She jumped out of my truck so damn fast, I barely got the word, “Wait” out.

Without turning, she waved me off, dismissing me just like she had on the night that we had pulled her over.

Internal instinct was screaming at me, telling me to move my ass and go after her again, but my fucking legs and wounded pride refused to obey. I punched the steering wheel with the flat of my good palm as the frustration got the better of me. By the time I fully resolved that I should, in fact, go after her, it was too late. She’d already gotten through her front door and closed it, clearly shutting me out.

I sat there for a moment rubbing my scalp, thinking of ways to fix this clusterfuck of my life, but I was at a loss. One thing was for certain: it was hard to describe how deep this woman I barely knew affected me. It was like I felt her already
in
me. In my blood. In my thoughts. As if some invisible force tethered me to her somehow, making me ache from the emptiness she’d left behind.

I stared at her door and pondered the mess I’d made, wrestling with the urge to go knock on the damn thing or even go so far as to tear it down, remove it off the fucking hinges so nothing separated me from her. But I knew that none of my actions would be well-received.

I pressed the heel of my hand over my breastbone, hating that I allowed another woman get to me this way.

But it was too late. The injury I inflicted on her was clearly visible in the gloss of her eyes. Banging on her door now would only infuriate her more and make me seem out of control, and I just didn’t have it in me to fight. I put my truck in reverse and backed slowly out of her driveway. It was for the best, telling myself just to leave it alone, ’cause I sure as hell had no clue how to fix it.

GOD, I HOPE
there isn’t a dead body in the trunk,
was the first thought that passed through my mind when the red and blue lights started flashing in my rearview mirror.

Sarah had been chauffeuring me back and forth to work for the last couple of days, but by the end of our shift Thursday morning, my convenient ride had come to an end. Sarah had the next two nights off, leaving me without a way to get to work for my shift tonight.

Instead of sleeping after she’d dropped me off, I spent the last two hours studying while waiting for the notary office to open. My eyes, like the rest of my body, were tired and feeling blurry, but there was no mistaking the distinct siren and flashing lights ordering me to pull over.

“No. Not again,” I whined out loud, squeezing the steering wheel. I knew better. Adam had warned me and yet here I was, driving without a plate on.

I pulled over to the first available spot of curb.

The police car pulled up right behind me.

Shit. It’s not like I was doing ninety down the road.

Adrenaline was coursing thick through my bloodstream and I felt lightheaded. I knew I should stay calm, after all it was just a traffic stop, but getting caught made it worse. With my luck right now, he’d make me open the trunk only to find that someone
did
shove a dead body in there.

Why did a traffic citation feel like the onset of being hauled off to prison? On the bright side, at least six other steal-plated trucks didn’t join in on the fun this time.

I rolled my window down.

“License and registration,” the officer ordered. I was slightly surprised, considering this policeman had quite a paunch going on.

As soon as I looked up at him, noting the unsightly brown birthmark on his cheek and moustache that reminded me of a walrus’s tusks, it registered that this was someone I’d already crossed paths with.

“Yes, sir,” I responded, being as compliant as possible.

“Well, well, look who it is,” he drawled. There was no denying that he recognized me from the diner where I had had breakfast with Adam. Just being this close to him creeped me out. It took him a few seconds to drift his beady eyes from my face to my boobs.

In my haste to avoid his unwanted leering, I grabbed the bottom of my purse, the contents of which immediately rained down all over my lap.

My wallet made a thud when it hit the floor. I bent to reach it and cracked my forehead on the steering wheel.

And that was it. The final straw.
Haul me off to prison because I’m about to lose my precious hold on sanity.

“Is there a problem?” the impatient Officer Castoll groaned.

I rolled my planted face over the steering wheel to look at him.

The intimidating officer leaned closer to my window. “Have you been drinking, Miss?”

His partner came around to the other side of my car. I could see out of the corner of my eye that his hand was resting on his weapon.

That snapped me to attention. “No, officer. Never.” And certainly not in hospital scrubs at nine in the morning. I left out the part,
and you’re going to add points to my driving record, which means that I will mostly likely have my license suspended and I will not have a way to get back and forth to the hospital job that I’m going to lose once the videos hit.

After the night I just had discussing removing Uncle Cal from life support and my nervous babble to the creepy cop, I couldn’t stop the shakes. I’d finally succumbed to the stress.

My car door opened. “Step out of the car, please.”

What?
“Why?” I didn’t care for the fact that his hand was hovering over his gun now.

“I
said
step out of the car, Miss.”

I groaned and dropped my empty leather purse onto the passenger seat while the rest of my things rolled under my seat.

Officer Asshole walked me to the front of my car. “Hands on the hood.”

“Wait. What?”

“Do not question me. Hands on the hood—now.”

Jesus, what have I done?
Is
there a dead body in the trunk of my car? I was only kidding, although whenever I saw that in a movie, I never turned out so well for the driver.

I caught Officer Asshole snickering to his partner. Bet it got his little wiener stiff posing me out on my hood like this while his partner, Officer Very Skinny and Ugly, got his eyeful.

My wallet landed on the hood. What the hell was it with cops dropping shit on my brand new car? I winced, hoping the paint wouldn’t get scratched by their macho asshole routine.

“That your wallet?”

No, it’s the missing booster rocket from the space shuttle.

I figured sarcasm wouldn’t go over very well right now so I answered, “Yes.” I desperately wanted to attend to the hair that was hanging in my eyes but I dared not let go of my bent position.

I saw the black truck coming down the road, stirring new nervousness through me. It slowed down as it got near the cop car; I didn’t have to look to know exactly who was driving.

I freed my license and handed it to the round cop.

He scrutinized the little plastic card. “Name?”

“Erin. Erin Novak,” I said, purposely looking away from the black truck. No sense making eye contact with him while being embarrassed once again.

To my surprise, the truck picked up speed. Just when I thought he’d drive off, he made a tire-screeching U-turn at the end of the block and parked directly across the street.

My breath caught when he slipped out of his truck, all clad in black just the way he was the day I met him. “ATTF” was written in bright lettering across the pocket on his chest, confirming he was a force to be reckoned with.

I took in his dark, short hair, which was messed perfectly, the shadow of a beard on his face, and the angered glint in his eye as he approached.