Emily's Protectors Read online

  “Let’s get this shit over with,” Dane said walking away.

  “No! I told you I didn’t want to do this, you overbearing ape!” Emily yelled at him as he reached the stairs leading to the station.

  Turning around ready to give her shit, he saw the vulnerability in her eyes and knew she was more scared that the police wouldn’t help than trying to be difficult. Walking up to her he cupped her face softly, bent down so they were eye to eye, and told her, “Baby girl, it’s gotta be done. All of it. The police need to know that some prick thinks he can put his hands on what’s ours. We can’t… no, we won’t let that happen.” Not letting her say anything he grabbed her hand and started pulling her, knowing it wouldn’t be long before she started fighting again.

  “Ours?” Coop questioned quietly. At Dane’s nod, he smirked and opened the door for them.

  Stupid men and their gorgeous blue, blue eyes. Damn manipulating bastard, Emily thought walking through the police station doors. More like hauled, her little voice needled away at her. And what was with that “ours” bullshit? I don’t belong to anyone, let alone two overbearing assholes, she thought walking up to the desk sergeant, crossing her arms, and putting on her best ‘I don’t want to be here’ face.

  “Can I help you?” the older, balding, pot-bellied officer asked them. Ok, Emily, you’re just being bitchy now. He looks friendly enough, she chastised herself.

  With a tap on her ass, Dane pushed her forward. Shooting a dirty look at his handsome, smirking face, she put on a sweet smile and told the officer, “I’m here against my will because these two overgrown baboons can’t take no for an answer.” Shooting Dane and Coop a triumphant look at her shot, she continued with a sigh. “I was nearly run off the road last night, well, more like the sidewalk actually, by what I believe was my super crazy stalker.” Hey, getting that off my chest feels pretty good, she thought.

  “Is that so?” the officer asked her. At her nod he picked up the phone, presumably to call someone to either arrest her or help her. Hopefully, the latter. Hanging up he smiled at her. “There will be an officer right down to take your statement and some more information from you.”

  Nodding and walking over to the bench along the cold and sterile gray walls, Emily sat down, avoiding looking at either Dane or Coop. When they sat on either side of her, her entire body froze and she became rigid. Trying to ignore their combined scents was no easy fête. They smelled like a mixture of earth and sun. Is that even a smell? she thought. When Dane put his hand on her thigh, so far up it ought to be indecent and squeezed, she looked at him not realizing she had tears in her eyes until he kissed each one and whispered, “Don’t cry, baby girl.” Hearing a throat clearing broke the spell they seemed to be in.

  Looking up Emily saw a middle-aged, kind-looking officer dressed in the usual uniform. “Hello, ma’am, I’m Officer Danielle Rivera. The desk sergeant tells me you need to make a statement about a car accident?” she asks a lot more politely than any officer Emily had encountered before

  Standing up, she wiped her clammy hands down the front of her jeans before answering. “Yes, I was hit by a car last night. They took off afterwards.” Emily told her with a bit of a wobbly voice. “There were officers there and they took a statement.” She tried to explain.

  “Follow me, please.” was all she said before turning and walking away through a set of double doors, leading to what Emily presumed was a squad room. Following diligently behind, she took a peek over her shoulder to see that Dane and Coop were talking in hushed tones but not following her. Feeling oddly disappointed that they weren’t coming with her, she pushed the hurt aside and continued on behind the officer waiting for her.

  Walking into the squad room, she sat where Officer Rivera indicated and waited for her to sit as well. “Alright, honey, please call me Danielle. I’m going to be handling your case for now. What’s your full name?” she asked in a gravelly, smoke-roughened voice.

  “Emily James Baxter,” she said to her.

  “Your birthday and age, please.”

  “January 3rd, 1993. I’m 22.”

  “Home address, and can you tell me about what happened last night, please?” she asked Emily kindly.

  After giving the officer her address, she started to retell the happenings of the previous night’s events. “I have a stalker and he found me again. I finally decided to hire protection or maybe someone to look into it, so I went to Maxwell Secures and after my meeting with them, I took the bus home. Getting off at the last stop closest to my street, I was walking on the sidewalk and things felt weird.”

  “Weird, how?” Officer Rivera interrupted.

  “I don’t know, just off. Like the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I knew I was being watched. I just wanted to get home so I started to walk faster, when out of nowhere I heard an engine rev and I was blind-sided by this car hitting me from behind. Or rather side swiping me, I guess you’d say.” Taking a breath, Emily continued to tell her about getting slammed into the fence and cataloging her injuries, as minor as they were, thankfully, to what happened when the paramedics and the police showed up. Explaining that she was only difficult because of past experience and fear.

  Grabbing her hand Danielle told her, “Alright dear. First off, I’m sorry you’ve dealt with shitty cops before; unfortunately, it happens all too often. But I’m telling you now, I will help you. Do you remember any details about this car? Did you see who was driving? Markings, damage, anything at all. Even the smallest things could be helpful.” She questioned.

  Closing her eyes to get a clear picture of the car in her head, Emily focused her mind on the previous night. “It was a dark color, blue or black maybe? I only saw two doors, but as it was pulling away, I saw a taillight was out and there was no license plate. I’m sorry that’s not very helpful but it happened so quickly, and I never saw the driver,” Emily told her, resigned to the fact that her stalker was still out there and probably coming for her.

  “That’s great dear.” She reassured her while writing furiously on her notepad. “Ok, now let’s move on to your stalker. What can you tell me about him? From the time you found out about him until the events of yesterday.”

  Staring at her blankly, Emily didn’t know how to say it out loud again. The last time she told anyone, they might as well have laughed in her face. She had been so humiliated by it that she left before she’d finished reporting it. Every time she thought about it, she felt sick to her stomach. Having to relive that night; the worst night of her life was not something she wanted to do. But this officer, Officer Danielle Rivera, she seemed nice. Like she would understand all of Emily’s fears, and so she began telling her about the worst night of her life.

  How she knew she was being watched but thought nothing of it. How even though her door wasn’t locked, she still went in and looked around her house. How when she discovered someone had been in her room, she didn’t run or scream or any of the things a normal person would do; she fainted. How just before she lost complete consciousness, her stalker laughed and came all over her face and chest and whispered in her ear that one day she would be his and she’d be sucking the cum from his dick. Or how he smeared it all over her face, neck, and mouth. Just thinking about it had bile rising up her esophagus. Officer Rivera must have known what the look on her face meant because she handed Emily a basket just as she emptied the contents of her stomach into it.

  Accepting the tissue from her, Emily sat up and wiped her mouth before excusing herself to the ladies’ room. Walking there on wooden legs and distracted, she ran into someone on the way. Mumbling an apology without even looking at them, she rushed into the washroom that was just ahead, slamming the door shut behind her and sinking down to the floor.

  Emily put her head on her bent knees and took a few deep breaths. She knew she was doing the right thing by being here, by hiring the guys, but damn was it hard to have to dredge up all of the horrible things from her past. Why couldn’t they ask me about the
time I was a fairy in my ballet when I was six? Or the time I broke my finger after stupid little Tommy Holmes called me a troll and I punched him in the face? The good times. Why does everyone always want to rip apart the bad things in a person’s life?

  Shaking off her melancholy and depressing thoughts, Emily got up and splashed some cold water on her face before rinsing her mouth out. Making her way slowly back into the squad room, she noticed Dane and Coop talking to Officer Rivera. Great, now you come in. Thanks, guys, she thought before pasting a fake smile on and interrupting their little tête-à-tête.

  Clearing her throat, she got their attention. With a smile, Danielle asked her, “Are you ready to finish?” Looking between Dane and Coop, Emily nodded her head but told her, “Somewhere private, please. It’s not something I wish to rehash in front of anyone else.” She wasn’t trying to be bitchy about it, but reliving her nightmare was hard enough, having to relive it in front of two men she was attracted to? Uh-uh, no way, no how, she thought.

  Standing with her back straight, chin up, and arms crossed, she hoped she was projecting the air of confidence she wanted rather than looking like the scared little girl she was. At Danielle’s nod, she let out a relieved breath and followed her to an interview room.

  Unable to meet their eyes, Emily scurried past without a word.

  Sitting down at the table, Emily waited. “Would you like a drink, Miss Baxter?” Danielle asked her.

  “No, thank you. I just want to get this over with as fast as possible, please,” She responded with her voicing shaking slightly, giving away her nerves.

  Nodding her head, Danielle told her to start where she was comfortable.

  Taking a deep breath to fortify her nerves, Emily began explaining about all the incidents; how after she found out about him, she stayed in Lincoln with the hopes that the police would investigate and find him. “I stayed for six months… six months of terrifying nights. I had the cold sweats and shakes, and I didn’t leave the house because I was afraid he would take me. I moved in with my mom thinking I’d be safe. They did nothing, not a fucking thing. They thought it was an ex-boyfriend, no matter how many times I insisted the only ex I had was back in my hometown and it wasn’t some grand love. We had sex one time, it was horrible and trust me he was not dying to get me back. He left me because he said it was just that horrible. So no, before you ask, there is no ex of any consequence,” Emily said angrily.

  “Ok, hun. What happened to make you leave?”

  Thinking about it had her shivering in fear again. “He broke into my mom’s house one day, set up video cameras and tape recorders everywhere. If it weren’t for an electrical fire, we never would have known. He crossed wires and the fire department found it and questioned us; we were baffled. I didn’t know what to do. We called the police, filed a report, but the same bitter, old man had my case and still didn’t believe me. He even told me once that in this day and age, I didn’t have to be ashamed of enjoying the kinkier things in life. That’s what he thought it was, me being kinky.” Like fuck, she thought bitterly.

  Looking around the room to try and calm herself down, Emily thought about how cold and sterile it looked. How she wished they’d stayed in the squad room now; she felt trapped in here. Like if she stayed, she was never going to leave. The walls were gray, the floors were cement, and even the table and two chairs were steel.

  Rushing through the rest of the things that happened and explaining the police reaction each time, she could see Danielle getting more and more pissed off at how things had been handled previously.

  The first time he found her, she knew it was her own fault because she hadn’t hidden her tracks well enough. She had been in Indiana for about two months when he showed up, leaving flowers and a few recent pictures on her doorstep. She reported it and left. Didn’t stick around long enough to pack her things, let alone answer any follow-up questions from the police. She left, plain and simple. Running was her new way of life from that moment on.

  The second time he found her was almost five months later. She had learned from her mistake, covered her tracks, and only used cash. Even going to the extremes of dyeing and cutting her hair, changing her clothes, anything she could think of. She didn’t think she’d made a slip. She went to a big city hoping to blend in. To this day, Emily still didn’t know how he found her and probably never would. She woke up one night to a burning in her thigh. Confused and tired, she sat up only to see him sitting on her bed with blood dripping off his knife. This time, she screamed the whole neighborhood down. It was pure luck that one of her neighbors was walking his dog and came running as soon as he heard her. That night was far more terrifying than any of the other times he found her. She ended up with thirteen stitches on the inside of her thigh and had the scar to show for it. After making another police report, Emily thought for sure that they would investigate this time, and they did to an extent. They tried to help her but with little evidence, they were stuck while she was terrified to close her eyes. She even had to sleep with the light on now.

  A couple of days later, she received a note from him in her mailbox saying:

  You taste like the freshest ambrosia,

  You smell like the wildest of flowers,

  Soon I will have you,

  Until next time, love.

  After getting that, she left. Gone. In the middle of the night. She had moved to Los Angeles hoping that she would be able to hide. It wasn’t long before she felt like she was being watched. At first, she thought it was just her being off balance. Paranoid. Until she started feeling like she had eyes on her in her apartment, which would have been impossible because she had dark black-out curtains and always left them closed. Not to mention that she was on the third floor. There was no way for anyone to see inside her apartment.

  Not having anything to go to the police with this time, she packed her belongings and left. Tired of running. She only got three months in LA, and now here she was ready to give up in Austin. Running wore a person down. Made them leery of everyone and everything. The smallest noises had her jumping. When people watched her she always wondered, is that him? When, when, when? It was always in the forefront of her mind.

  But now she felt like it was time. Time for him to disappear, or her to be caught.

  One way or another, Emily wanted this to be over.

  No more running.

  No more cowering.

  It was time.

  Standing up as Emily and the officer walked out of the interview room, Dane watched her closely to gauge her reaction and see how she really was. Hearing only tidbits of what she went through while running from this maniac had his rage simmering below the surface, and he knew that Coop was feeling the same way. He felt a connection with Emily, and while he didn’t know where it was going, he did know he wanted to explore it. Dane was also pretty sure that Coop was feeling the same way he was.

  Walking up to Emily, he noticed her face was closed off. Cold. “Take me home now, please,” she said robotically without sparing either of them a glance and walked out the front door.

  With a nod to the officer, they followed her out to see her standing beside his truck waiting for them. “How about we take you for lunch, baby girl?” Coop asked her tentatively.

  Still not looking up, she shook her head no before saying, “No, I just want to go home. I’m tired and need some time.” At that, she turned around and waited for him to unlock the door.

  The drive back to Emily’s house was quiet. She had lost some of her sass and that worried Dane. He might not know her well, but he did know that if she were being a smart-ass then she was ok. This new quiet and closed off version of her had him very worried. However, she was insistent that she was fine and just needed some time alone.

  Pulling up to her house, they both followed her out of the truck and up to her door, intending to go inside with her and try to talk to her. Her words stopped them in their tracks. “Please, just leave. I don’t have the energy to be social or put u
p with two over-bearing cavemen right now.” Unlocking her door and walking inside, she didn’t wait for them to respond before shutting it in their faces and locking it.

  “Shit!” Dane exploded.

  “Calm down. She’s overwhelmed and needs a break. You heard some of that stuff she told the officer. Baby girl’s been through hell.” Coop pronounced to him. He wasn’t fooled; he heard the worry in his voice.

  Walking back to the truck, Dane hopped in and started it but watched her house for a few minutes. Thinking about some of the things this stalker had done to her made him sick. He wanted to wrap her up and protect her, but he knew they wouldn’t be able to until she opened up a little more to them. For now they had to leave, with a promise from the officer that someone would be doing regular drive-bys.

  “Call Creed and Lincoln and see what they can dig up on her past and who she was around. Who was around her?” He instructed Coop. Creed and Lincoln Black were two people he knew that could find out what they needed to know. They worked in a special task force for Uncle Sam and Interpol doing who knows what, but they could find things that the most trained hacker couldn’t.

  Coop couldn’t believe some of the things that freak had done to her. Slicing her thigh and licking her blood? It was sick, and she must have been terrified. He felt a connection to her. She was in a really bad spot right now, but he felt like they could have something if they could only get rid of this stalker.

  Dialing the secure number for Creed, he waited for him to pick up. “What?” He grouched upon answering.

  “Damn, dude, could you be any bitchier?” He joked.

  “Fuck, Coop, it’s like 3 a.m. here and I just got to sleep. Whadda ya want?”