17. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Derek
F or the first time in years, I get to wake up with someone in my bed, and at first, I'm not sure what to think of it. It wouldn't be the first time I fell into bed with another woman since Chelsea, but it would be the first time something physical was so intimate that it meant something more than just a one-time hook-up.
When Faith stirs against me, like a reflex I had long forgotten, I am drawing her closer, bringing her back to my chest until I can breathe in her sweet scent as her breathing stays slow and steady while she's still fast asleep. It's such a simple thing, but I forgot how good it feels to hold a woman like this. This feeling, this sensation, is something I never thought I would feel ever again, and now that Faith has brought it back to me, I feel a selfish need to never let it go—to never let her go.
"Mmm… coffee," she mumbles.
"I have coffee," I whisper in her ear. "Five more minutes."
She turns and nuzzles into my chest, her eyes still closed and sleepy, but her hair is a beautiful mess of waves that I play with until she finally wakes up.
"Has it been five minutes?" she squints at me. I turn and look at the clock on my dresser.
"Yeah, but I'm not done holding you yet."
"But coffee," she yawns, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Fine," I sigh dramatically, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But it'll cost you a kiss tax."
This gets her to rub the sleep from her eyes and look up at me to ensure I meant what I said. She tilts her chin up to give me one kiss, then another, and one more for good measure before pulling away and waiting to see if I make good on my word.
"Alright, coffee it is."
We both slide out of bed, and I wrap Faith in my heavy gray robe while I slide into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I look back to make sure she's following me, but I can't help but grin at the sight of her, messy hair and all, dressed in my robe.
"What?" she yawns again.
"Nothing," I chuckle. "You're just cute; that look suits you, that's all."
"Come on, sleepyhead," I teased, reaching for her hand. "Let's get that coffee."
Once I get the coffee going and mugs out of the cabinet, Faith is already searching through her bags for something.
"Lost something?" I ask.
"I think I left my phone in your car," she says as she rummages through her duffle bag. "Can I grab your keys and check?"
I take the keys from their hook and slide my boots on. "I'll check for you. It's cold as hell out there."
"I like the cold," she says, throwing her boots on with a mischievous smirk.
"Do you argue with me just out of habit, or do you get some amusement out of it?" I smirked at her, and she bops my nose and gives me a quick kiss on the lips.
"A little of both," she says as she walks out the door first, but then stops dead in her tracks before she takes one step off the front porch.
"What's wrong?" I ask, my hand reaching for my gun, which is not secured at my back. When I see no immediate threat, I look at the sight that has her covering her mouth, speechless.
On the side of my truck, a new message reads, keyed by someone who I'm sure followed us, but I'm unsure how I didn't catch on.
FUCKING WHORE!
The message reads with a couple of indecent images of the male and female anatomy. Silently and slowly, maybe so as not to slip on the fresh snow and ice or to ensure her shaky legs don't trip her up, she maneuvers to the other side of the car, her terrified eyes almost full of tears.
THIS ISN'T OVER BITCH!
I keep my head on a swivel, checking for any signs that he may be watching just to get off, knowing how badly he's scared her, but I can't find a single pair of prying eyes. I remember what we came out here for, so I unlocked the passenger side door and found her phone lying on the floor. I grab it, lock the truck up, and take her by the hand.
"We need to get inside," I tell her, and for once, she doesn't argue with me.
"How did he find me?" she asks once I lock the door behind us. "I know he didn't follow us back here. There's no way both of us could have missed that."
I look down and feel as though I'm looking at the answer in my hand.
"Did he ever track your phone?" I ask, holding it up.
"Not that I was ever aware of," she shakes her head. "That was one thing he could never get out of me, and it was the passcode to my phone."
"Are your location services on?" I ask as I hand it over to her. Another wave of panic flashes in her eyes as she opens it to her security settings, only to find that the location is, in fact, turned on.
"But seriously, how could he do that?" she shrieked, her voice hitting a note that could shatter glass. "Why won't he just leave me alone? What's his endgame? I mean, it's not like I went around town announcing he's got a dehydrated deer dick and needs BOB to get me off!"
"Ah, well, unfortunately, all he needs is your phone number and some mediocre hacking skills," I say, watching her instantly fumble with her phone like it's a hot potato before tossing it onto the coffee table.
"Dehydrated deer dick, huh? That's a new one." I start to laugh. "And wait—who's Bob?"
She rolls her eyes and deadpans, "Seriously? Battery Operated Boyfriend."
I quickly wonder about things I don't want to envision of Ryan and a BOB.
"I have to get out of here," she insists. "Derek, I'm so sorry about your truck, but I can't let Ryan ruin your life, too."
"Hold on, hold on," I tell her as I catch her by the shoulders when she tries grabbing her bag and racing out the door. "Number one, I'm not afraid of some asshole who I know is on my cameras keying my car. I'll make sure he pays for that. Number two, the safest place you could be is with me or at the hospital, where security can keep an eye out for him."
"But he keyed your truck and—"
"It's just a fucking truck," I say, taking her face in my hands. "If it means that he can't get to you and all he can do is have a temper tantrum like a toddler, then he can key it, slash the tires, I don't fucking care. All I care about is that he can't touch you."
"This is all my fault," she says as the first of many tears fall down her cheeks. I wipe them away one by one before pulling her into my chest, where I wait for the sobs to die down enough for her to hear my steady words.
"You didn't key my car. You didn't do a damn thing wrong," I tell her. "He doesn't know that he ruined any chance of him staying a free man."
"What do you mean?" she sniffles.
"There's footage of you getting assaulted at the bar, and there's footage of him keying my truck on private property. We take it to the police and let them take care of it," I explain like it's something simple and easy to ease her nerves.
"The police won't do shit," she says with such defeat in her voice.
"I know they can't do anything with stalkers most of the time, but he hurt you last night. They have to step in now," I remind her.
"But what if they say they can't do anything, and Ryan finds out that I went to the police? He's going to be so furious, and I don't know if—"
I interrupt her worried words with a long, deep kiss. I don't pull away until I feel her body release the tension it holds against my hands. Only when she holds me do I slowly pull away.
"Faith, I have protected average citizens, minor celebrities, and politicians. If I have someone to protect, I do everything in my power to keep them safe, no matter what their enemies might want to do. You are no different. We're going to go to the police with all the evidence Ryan has so graciously gifted us," I smirk. "And we're going to get the bastard thrown in jail."
"Okay," she breathes. "Let's get it over with."