Page 60 of Wrecked
“I’ve got it covered, Black,” Brian said, butting in. The younger man had his arms crossed, trying to stare him down.
Cole stared back. “And you did such a fucking excellent job, too.”
The guy scowled. “Leave it to the professionals. You’re not a cop anymore, best you remember that.”
Cole took a threatening step forward. “You think I could forget?”
Piper shot to her feet. “Okay, thanks, Brian. I’ll call you if I think of anything else.”
Brian tore his gaze from Cole and, smug as hell, walked over to her. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he gave her a squeeze. “Call me anytime.” The prick’s voice dipped low. “For anything, okay?”
She stared back, eyes wide. “Okay.”
The guy gave her shoulder another squeeze. “I’ll be in touch.”
Then he and his partner left, leaving them alone. Jealousy had reared its ugly head the minute he’d seen her sitting on the asshole’s patrol car, and even though he knew there was nothing between them now, that jealousy wasn’t going anywhere, not after what he’d just witnessed. “He wants you.”
Piper’s gaze, which was currently aimed at her feet, shot up. “What?”
He couldn’t leave her, couldn’t watch her with another man. He’d been stupid to think otherwise. He knew he looked pissed, but after everything that had happened, the way she’d been threatened tonight, he didn’t have it in him to pull it back. “Officer Sleaze. He wants between your thighs.”
She bit her lip. “He’s just being nice, doing his job.”
She always saw the best in people. But she was wrong. Brian wanted her. He couldn’t fucking well have her. Instead of pushing it, though, he dropped the subject. He’d only end up saying something he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear. “Right now I’d rather talk about you, and why you didn’t tell me you were worried about this guy?”
She fidgeted, playing with the edge of the blanket around her shoulders. “Okay, maybe I should have told you about my concerns. But I didn’t want you running and blabbing to Deacon. I’m not leaving my cottage.”
The woman didn’t trust him. Not even a little. That knowledge stung. But then, he hadn’t exactly given her reason to trust him lately.
“What are you going to do?”
He locked gazes with her and laid it out. He’d decided what he had to do the minute he saw that sick fuck at her bedroom window. “I’m staying tonight. Tomorrow, I’m moving my shit in. Obviously next door isn’t close enough.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.”
She slumped back against the couch. “You’re overreacting. What will I tell everyone?”
“It’s happening, Piper.”
“And you think I’m stubborn.”
Her words didn’t hold any venom, they held relief. She was afraid. He hated it, hated that he’d had to stand back and watch the motherfucker who scared her get away. No way was he leaving her side, ever again. “As for Deke, your sister, Alex? They don’t need to know, not yet.”
Chapter Nineteen
Cole did a quick perimeter check of Piper’s cottage when he got home, making sure to be extra quiet. The last thing she needed was another fright. There was no sign of the dark figure he’d seen trying to get in her window the night before.
His hand automatically went to his thigh, the dull ache radiating from his knee a constant reminder of the things he couldn’t do anymore.
Fucking leg.
When he walked in the front door, the place was in semidarkness. The kitchen light, the only one left on in the house, illuminated part of the hall. The smell of popcorn hung in the air, and when he did a quick check to make sure the place was secure, he spotted an empty bottle of wine on the bench, three glasses sitting in the sink.
Piper had spent the evening with Alex and Rusty. Movie night, she’d called it. It’d been his idea for her to have them over. No way in hell would he leave her alone after what’d happened. He knew he’d be working late and had made her promise to text him when they were getting ready to leave. As soon as she had, he’d come straight home.
When he’d woken early this morning, he’d gone straight to his place to pack a few things, nothing anyone would notice, just a couple changes of clothes. He’d put his things in one of the spare rooms.
