Page 53 of Haunted

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“I don’t need your apologies.” She laid her head on my chest. “I just need you.”

“You’ve got me, Henley. All of me.”

Eleven years was a long time to be floundering through the daily grind without a purpose. I was lost, without any sense of direction, until a few weeks ago when I stumbled upon the woman in my arms. She literally and figuratively knocked me on my ass with her beauty, her kind heart, and her sheer determination to thrive in spite of the roadblocks she encountered. It was no wonder I’d fallen in love with her so quickly. Only a fool would have ignored the way she tugged on my soul, and I was no fool.

“I hate to be the bad guy here, but if we want to moveswiftly with an arrest for more than assault and battery, Detective Black needs to hear the recording.”

Waverly, unfortunately, had a point. Nelson took his cue, stepping forward to set his laptop on the kitchen counter. After a few quick strokes on the keyboard, he scanned the room until his sympathetic gaze fell on me. “Brace,” was the only thing he said before hitting play.

At first, there was a lot of interference with the quality of the recording from Henley putting the phone back in her pocket. Then it cleared and the voice I heard sent chills down my spine and sent Henley curling up into a tight ball on my lap.

“Do. Not. Scream.”

Pulling her deep into my chest, I tried to stem the tremors racking her body, which had fuck-all to do with the way the temperature in the kitchen seemed to drop twenty degrees while we listened to the venom he spewed as she continued to fight off his attack. A sinister grin played at my lips when his cry of pain came through the speakers right after the distinctive sound of a bone breaking.

My Little Bird had claws.

“That’s the end of it.” Nelson closed the lid on his computer.

“Email me a copy. Between tonight’s incident and this, I’ll have an arrest warrant in a few hours.” Detective Black began gathering her things, but there was another matter we needed to discuss.

“I want to be the one to put the cuffs on this motherfucker.”

“Agent Clarke,” she started.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Shayne.” I glared. “There’s a reason you’re here and not some fresh-out-of-the-academy uniformed officer. You have history with us.”

“That was different, Keaton.”

“Really? You were in over your head, trying to take down your partner’s killer without any backup. If we hadn’t gotten involved, you’d be sitting behind a desk pushing papers instead of climbing your way up the ladder.”

“Duncan and I will accompany Keaton to ensure he remains strictly professional,” Waverly stated.

“And if McArthur resists?” She looked my way and I shrugged. What could I say? I hoped like hell he tried. “Fuck. My captain will have my ass on a platter if this goes to shit, but I’ll call you tomorrow when I have the warrant in hand.”

It wasn’t until later that night when I was lying in bed, with Henley draped over my chest, did I take a full deep breath.She was safe.Rubbing my hand slowly up and down her naked spine, I could almost feel each one of the red marks the fucker put on her beneath my fingertips. If I had my way, he’d have a few of his own tomorrow.

“Keep your mouth shut and your shit tight, Agent Clarke, or so help me God, you’ll find yourself in the back seat of a patrol car next to your little friend. Got it?”

Detective Black’s warning wasn’t warranted. I’d been read the riot act already during the car ride to the McArthur McMansion by Waverly and Duncan who flanked me as the four of us, plus two uniformed officers, made our way toward the monstrosity of a house.

After reluctantly being let through the gated entrance by security, we were instructed to park next to the greenhouse, then told to walk the remaining distance to the residence. Theproperty screamed money, much like the one I’d grown up on. Not even a blade of grass was out of place on their perfectly manicured lawns. The fifteen foot electrified fence, which was barely visible through the tree line, was a tad much though.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Congressman Wade McArthur was decked out in a charcoal-gray suit, standing between two large pillars on the front porch of his home…and he wasn’t alone. To his left, two other men—just as sharply dressed, with briefcases at their feet—eyed us suspiciously as we ascended the steep staircase. Behind him, leaning back against the house with his ankles crossed in a leisurely manner and a my-shit-doesn’t-stink smirk on his face, was my intended target. At least the fucker had the decency to flinch when his gaze landed on me.

“Good morning, Congressman. I’m Detective Black with the Huntington PD. Since you’ve gathered your legal army here, I have to assume you already know why we’re here so let’s not play games with each other.” Shayne wasn’t easily intimidated, which was the reason Waverly handpicked her for this case. “If you could step aside, we’re here to take your son into custody.”

“On what charges?” He cocked his head to the side, otherwise not moving an inch.

“Aggravated assault and battery to start. Then first degree sexual abuse.”

“Preposterous! Look at him.” He waved an arm at his progeny. “He can have any woman he wants at any given time. He doesn’t have to force them. Whoever made these accusations is after money, plain and simple.”

A growl rumbled up my throat, my body tensing in preparation for battle. Duncan’s hand clamped firmlyon to my shoulder when my foot left the ground, halting any further movement.

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