Page 11 of Malice

She gave him the number and watched as the cruiser pulled in and stopped behind her car before a large officer in a black uniform stepped down and approached her.

“Are you Miss Iverson?” he asked.

“I am.” Bonnie nodded. “They’re here. I’ll let you go. Drive safe and I’ll see you soon.”

“Take care. And tell him about the security camera you told me about. I’ll be there soon.”

The line went dead, and she stood a moment, staring at the blank phone screen.

“Is this your car?” The officer’s words broke into her thoughts, bringing her back to the present.

“Yes.” She took a deep breath and braced herself for this.

9

Afterdisconnectingthecallwith Bonnie, Malice forced himself to take a deep breath and steady himself. The police were there. She would be fine, at least until he got there. Then they would figure out what to do next. Where she could go. Obviously, she couldn’t stay there, at least not as long as that fuckwad was free to harass her.

Who knew what could have happened to her? And now that he didn’t have her car to take his anger out on, would he do something similar to her? Malice didn’t know what he could do, but he wouldn’t allow it. He’d find a way to stop the asshole from hurting her.

The miles seemed to crawl by and though he knew the trip didn’t take any longer than usual, it felt like it was hours long instead of the thirty minutes it actually took. He pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex and spotted her car before anything else.

Rage flashed through him, sending a wash of red over his vision for a split second before it cleared. He pulled into the first open space, shoved his phone into his pocket before bailing out and going to look for Bonnie.

He didn’t have to go far. After a brief delay, as he circled her car, taking several pictures with his phone, he went to the main door for the building and found it locked. A little inspection revealed you needed a key or a code to get in the door. That was probably what had kept the fuckwad from getting to her apartment and hurting Bonnie rather than just defacing her car.

Through the glass door he spotted Bonnie, standing with her arms folded against her chest and her hands resting on her own shoulders as she hugged herself as if looking for comfort anywhere she could get it. She stood in front of a uniformed officer with a notebook in his hand, taking notes as she spoke.

Malice didn’t want to interrupt them, but he didn’t see any other way to get inside, so he knocked on the glass.

Bonnie turned wide, frightened eyes toward him but he could tell as soon as she spotted him as relief washed over her features and a smile spread across her face. Her arms unwound as she closed the distance to the door and let him in.

As soon as Malice stepped in the door, he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m here. it will be okay. We’ll figure this out.” He didn’t know where the words came from, but they felt right as she buried her face in his chest and took several shaky breaths.

“And you would be?” the officer asked with two lifted brows.

“My name is Corey Jamison, but most people call me Malice.” He held out one hand to the officer, shifting Bonnie slightly to the left, but keeping his arm around her.

The man shifted his pen to the other hand and shook his with a firm grasp.

“Malice?” Officer Warrington, according to his name tag, asked.

“Yep.” He wasn’t going to bother to explain. Not now, it wasn’t what was important. Finding the Phillip asswipe who’d done this to Bonnie was.

“And who are you in all this?” the officer asked.

Malice glanced down at the woman still curled against his chest. “How much have you told him?”

“Just about this. I haven’t had a chance to tell him more.”

Malice clenched his teeth as he bit back a curse then turned back to Officer Warrington. “I’m a friend. A kind of new friend, but the one who witnessed Bonnie’s ex assault her outside a diner over on First street a few days ago.”

Officer Warrington frowned. “Did you report the assault?”

“No. I saw it, stopped it and he left. I’d hoped that would be the end of it.” Malice let his gaze flick toward where her car sat, even though there was no way it could be seen through the wall. “It appears I was wrong.”

“What makes you say it was the same person?”

“Partly that it seems like the kind of thing he would do when he couldn’t get to her.” He tilted the top of his head toward the locked door he’d just come through. “Partly because the things scratched into the paint are the same things he called her. But it can be confirmed or at least partly disproven by the security footage.”

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