Lori Foster - Dash of Peril

“Bastards kicked me.”

Yvette shuddered again, so Cannon said near her ear, “Shh, shh,” while rocking her a little.

“Can you tell me how many men? Can you give me descriptions?”

“I can try.” Tipton caught his breath, let it out in a measured way that showed a lot of pain. “Three men. One had dark hair and a beard. A goatee. Other two weren’t as dark. They were both heavy, one bald and the other thinning.”

“Two of them...they raped her,” Yvette cried, her breath against his now damp skin. “She was so out of it, I don’t know if she realized what was going on. But it was horrible. She made these little sounds, like...like she wanted loose but couldn’t fight—”

Again Cannon rocked her. “It’ll be okay.”

“What about the third man?” Logan asked.

“He made us watch with him,” Tipton said. “After they soaked us with kerosene. He—the one in charge—said he used kerosene ’cause it’d burn hot but wasn’t combustible like gasoline.”

“They said they’d burn us to ashes and no one would ever know what happened.”

Absently, Cannon stroked her. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Usually whenever he’d seen her she’d been wearing heels. He hadn’t realized she was so short. “Are you hurt, too?”

Keeping her face pressed against him, she shook her head. “No.”

“They slapped her,” Tipton said, “’cause she cried when they were kicking me.”

Cannon leaned back and tried to lift her face, but she clung to him like a vine. “Come on, honey. Let me take a look.”

“No.” And then, in an absurd show of vanity, she cried, “I’m a mess!”

Cannon looked around and found Reese, Logan and Tipton all watching them. In their gazes he saw the same pity he felt. No wonder Yvette wanted to hide.

Holding her a little closer, he asked Logan, “You’ve got this?”

Logan nodded. “I’ll get the descriptions. Go take care of her.”

“Ambulance will be here shortly.” Reese joined Logan at Tipton’s side. “I told them to come in quietly.”

Cannon accepted all that. No lights or sirens was good. “Then Yvette and I are going to the other room.”

Tipton watched him with a lot of suspicion and concern. “What for?”

“To talk.”

Logan spoke quietly to Tipton, and the older man nodded. “All right.”

Before he got out of the room, Tipton said, “Cannon?”

With Yvette held close, Cannon looked back. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.” He looked at his granddaughter. “For everything.”

Cannon acknowledged that with a nod, but as he walked out of that room, he felt like he was taking a giant step into new responsibilities.

And into...trouble.

Petite, stacked, young trouble.

AFTERNOON SUNSHINE HAD melted away all the snow, leaving behind a mild springlike day. After running several errands, it was almost dinnertime before Dash returned to the station. He’d called over an hour ago to see if Margo was done yet, but she’d needed more time.

Not a problem for him.

He wanted her to know that a relationship with him wouldn’t get in her way.

But he also wanted to be a priority for her—because she was a priority for him. Now more than ever.

Knowing someone wanted to hurt her sent a rush of determination clawing through him. Somehow, someway, he would be near her, offering protection.

The fact that she could protect herself didn’t matter, not to his emotions, not to his instincts. He was a man and, cop or no, she was still a woman. In the most basic way known to nature, he wanted to protect her.

The easiest way to help her figure out the balance of life and work was to show her that he considered her work as important as she did, and intimacy with him beat indiscriminate sex any day. It heightened every sensation, making it better, hotter, more consuming than a random encounter with a stranger.

The argument was a reversal for Dash. Other than sexual relief, he hadn’t wanted anything from a woman in a very long time. But women, in his experience, wanted sex to mean something. They thought of it as a show of affection and caring, a prelude to love.

Not Margo.

Nope, she just used it as a carnal tension reliever from a very emotionally stressful job.

As Dash parked out front of the station, he saw Margo, Logan and Reese speaking together. Margo spotted him, too, and waved him over.

Interesting. Why weren’t they in the building?

Leaving his purchases behind on the seat, he exited the truck. Even from the distance separating him from her, he saw the anger on Margo’s face. She stood there without her coat—not that she’d need it with the sun shining down and the temps hitting the low sixties.

In several long strides Dash reached them, just in time to hear Margo give Reese an order.

“Get hold of the rest of your guys. I want them watched at the hospital, at home and at the shop.”

“Already took care of it.”

She paced, rubbing her injured arm, though Dash doubted she realized it. “I need this kept quiet. We’re not taking any chances.”

“My guys can be trusted.” Reese took a few steps away, still on the cell.

“Reese has guys?” Dash asked.

She looked up at him in a distracted way. “Men he trusts. Officers who have proven themselves loyal to him, and therefore loyal to the letter of the law.”

With a shrug, Logan said, “The crew was necessary before Margo took over.”

She did some more pacing. “They still come in handy when I want to make sure details are kept as private as possible.”

“And you have something you want kept private?”

“Everything.” She gave him a meaningful frown. “I don’t like taking chances.” All business, she added, “And speaking of chances, you need to park your truck somewhere safe. Away from where you live.”

She seemed so urgent, he agreed without question. “All right.”

“I mean it, Dash, you...” She frowned, finally realizing that he hadn’t questioned her. “Do you have good security?”

“On my house? My brother is a cop, so yeah, the place is kept secure.” He looked at Logan, hoping for a few answers.

As if to work off anger, his brother flexed his shoulders. “We checked out the pawnshop. The owner and his granddaughter were there when they shot the video.”

Oh, shit. “What do you mean they were there?” Dash watched Margo rub her shoulder, then her wrist, above and below the splint. “I thought Cannon stopped in and they—”

“Three men with a drugged woman in tow broke in and used the place. To control the owner they doused him and his granddaughter in kerosene, then the head guy threatened them with a lighter the whole time they were there.”

Reese disconnected his call and rejoined them. “I think the sick fuck enjoyed tormenting them. From what they said, he took as much pleasure in terrifying them as he did in videotaping the rape.”

“Damn,” Dash whispered. And these were the same people who wanted Margo? He wanted to haul her close and somehow insulate her from it all—but her job kept her at the forefront.

“A couple of Reese’s guys are with Mr. Sweeny at the hospital. I’m guessing he has a few broken ribs at the very least.” Logan stepped closer to Dash. “Cannon knows the granddaughter so he stayed with her at the hospital. She’s pretty shook up.”

“Margo?” Because he needed to touch her, Dash put a hand on the back of her neck. “What now?”

“They threatened that girl, told her they would use her next in a video if she talked to the police.”

Dash searched her face...and saw iron resolve. “That’s not going to happen.”

“No, it’s not. We won’t let it.” Wearily, Margo leaned into his side.

Dash put his arm around her.

Logan stared.

Reese raised his eyebrows.

Dash was about to call them on their idiotic behavior, but Margo beat him to it.

“Put your eyeballs back in your heads, boys. I know it strains your boundaries of belief, but I enjoy a little human contact every now and then, same as anyone else.”

“Yeah, no, I wasn’t...” Logan transferred his bemused gaze to Dash.

Reese coughed...and clapped Margo on the shoulder, just like she was one of the guys. “Glad for you.”

She staggered into Dash, but laughed. “It doesn’t require applause, detective, so stow it.”

To Reese and Logan, Dash said, “You’re both idiots.”

Still leaning on him, Margo smiled at Logan. “He said it, not me.” Then she got serious again. “We can pick up the rental on our way home—”

Logan and Reese did more asinine staring at that disclosure.

“—and then you can stow the truck somewhere safe.”

“There’s only one problem with that. I can’t drive my truck and the rental, and you’re out of commission until the splint comes off.”

Logan checked his watch. “Leave your keys with Reese. He can store it and I’ll drive you both to get the rental.”

“You have time for that?” Dash asked.

“Sure.” His eyes narrowed. “That way I can be positive no one follows you.”

Disconcerted, Dash looked around the area. “You think we’re being watched?”

Margo nodded. “I feel it, too.” She took Dash’s hand. “But stop being so obvious, okay?”

Her show of affection surprised him enough that he looked at her instead of checking for signs of surveillance. He curled his larger hand around hers, holding her securely. “Sorry about that.”

Logan pretended not to see. “If Margo was driving she could lose a tail easy enough, but—”

“Yeah,” Dash agreed with a grin. “I haven’t exactly had a lot of practice at that.”