Chapter 8
Evelyn swore she’d never step inside another police station again, and the rapid beat of her heart screamed run with every thwack against her rib cage.
Every click, every buzz, every booming voice around them set her already raw nerves on edge.
She pressed herself close to Connor’s broad back as they made their way down the brightly lit hallway, her hand threatening to tighten around the cup of coffee Connor had swiped from the vending machine.
Their intimate moment in her building had moved him from Detective Mitchel—a man she’d been wary of—to Connor, a friend.
And right now, she needed a friend she could hold on to.
Connor stopped, and she slammed against him. He turned and braced his hands against her forearms, concern rippling his smooth forehead. “You okay?”
“A little anxious. I hope Lacey is all right with Ben at the apartment. I know you trust him, but we just met him tonight. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.” The lie tasted as bitter as the stale coffee in her cup. Lacey’s safety wasn’t what had her stomach flipping like a drunken gymnast.
“Lacey will be fine.” Connor offered her a small smile. “I called my lieutenant. He’s already contacting a judge. Write down everything that happened tonight, then the statement will be rushed to a judge so a warrant can be issued.”
“I thought it took time to get a warrant.” Her gaze bounced from Connor to the empty hall behind him.
She tried to keep her focus on him and what she’d come here to do, and not let it wander toward what hummed to life behind all the closed doors.
The sooner she wrote her statement the sooner she could get out of here... and the police could find Monica.
Connor opened wide one of the doors and waited for her to step inside. Hesitation slowed her steps, the echo of her heels on the tile seeming to vibrate through her core. She willed her muscles to keep working, to keep moving her forward as she put one foot determinedly in front of the other.
She made it halfway to the long, bolted-down table in the center of the room before the loud thud of the door closing behind her had her spinning back around.
The Styrofoam cup fell to the floor, and hot coffee splattered against her legs.
Panic invaded her mind, blocking out the scalding sting on her legs, and all logical thought fled.
Only one desire rang inside her—get the hell out of here.
Adrenaline took over, and Evelyn hurried toward the door. Hurried toward freedom. Her hand tightened around the knob, and she twisted her wrist, but the handle didn’t turn. Her pulse spiked and heat licked at her cheeks. She sucked in a deep breath and tried the knob again. Nothing.
Closing her eyes, she fought the terror threatening to suck her into the darkness.
She took a step back and opened her eyes.
She scanned the room. No windows lined the cinder block walls.
No light from the full moon outside shone inside to compete with the artificial light from the flickering fluorescent bulb overhead.
She turned toward the mirror dominating one wall. Was someone watching her? A hysterical laugh caught in her throat. She had to look crazy, but she didn’t care. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to slow her racing heart. “I need to get out of here. Now. I can’t be locked in. Open the door.”
“Evelyn? What’s going on?”
Soft hands brushed against her face, and she flinched. Reared away from the presence of whoever was encroaching on her personal space.
The warm caresses dropped away.
“It’s just me. Everything’s fine.”
The gentle cadence of Connor’s voice broke through the black smog smothering her brain, and she opened her eyes. A mask of worry contorted the lines of his face. He stood in front of her, and she dropped her gaze to his fisted hands at his sides. “Why did you lock me in here?”
“The locks are automatic. I have the key. Do you want me to open the door?”
The softness of his words continued to break down the wall of hysteria around her.
Her rapid breaths slowed to a steady rhythm, but her heart refused to follow suit.
She hung her head, the light scars ringing her wrists staring up at her, and debated how much to confide in Connor.
She couldn’t tell him all of it. Not with everything else he had on his plate right now.
“Yes, please. I don’t like close spaces. ”
“Evelyn, you’re not trapped. You can leave any time you want.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “When the door slammed closed, it felt like I was trapped. I can’t handle that again.”
“Again?” The tightness of his voice had Evelyn lifting her gaze to his. Fire burned in his blue eyes, and his jaw locked.
“I had a messed-up childhood,” Evelyn said on a sigh.
She hated talking about her past. Not even Lacey had been told the full extent of what she’d been forced to endure.
“My parents expected me to...obey.” She struggled to come up with the right word.
Something that would give Connor a glimpse inside what had caused her reaction without telling him everything.
“And if you didn’t, they locked you in a room?”
She bit into her top lip to keep the tears her memories always caused at bay.
The pity in his eyes made her want to run out of this godforsaken place.
But she couldn’t. Not until she wrote her statement.
A brittle laugh made its way up her raw throat.
“Yep. Most of the time that was the best option.”
He placed his warm palm on top of her hand. “What was the other option?”
His simple touch warmed a place in her soul long ago left cold and brittle. She licked her lips, wanting to pull away, yet needing the contact to hold herself together. “You don’t want to know.”
“I’m sorry.” Connor rocked forward, and the woodsy scent of his cologne beat back the stale air that wrapped around her like a straitjacket.
She shrugged and her gaze traveled across the floor to the mess she’d made with her coffee.
She shot forward, needing an excuse to stop the moment happening between them.
Vulnerability led to heartbreak. The walls she’d erected years ago needed to stay in place, and the vibes rolling off Connor in waves told her he’d do anything to break them down right now.
She couldn’t let that happen— no matter how badly she wished she could.
“I made a mess. Are there any napkins I can use to clean it up?”
His laser focus scorched her cheeks. Her body hummed with awareness, and she skirted around him. He stepped behind her, and the nearness of his body warmed her from the inside out.
A light touch skimmed her shoulders and for a brief second, she allowed herself to relax against him—to use the strength of his broad chest to anchor her shaking limbs.
“Take your time,” he whispered against her ear. “Gain your bearings. I’ll prop open the door and call for someone to clean this up.”
Tears stung her eyes at his kindness. Time was of the essence right now, and yet he urged her to gather her composure and catch her breath even with his sister’s safety in the balance.
Connor was a man unlike any she’d ever met before, and her desire to collapse against him and let him take her in his arms scared the hell out of her.
Connor opened the door and jammed a wooden block under the bottom. He’d prop it open enough to give Evelyn a sense of comfort, but not far enough for people to pop their noses in. He straightened and glanced at Evelyn from the corner of his eye as he paced the perimeter of the small room.
He debated whether to give her privacy or stay glued to her side.
She’d been jumpy as soon as they’d stepped foot into the police station.
Most people were wary when surrounded by the chaos of the station at night—criminals waiting to be booked, noisy civilians searching for the accused, and officers buzzing around the maze of hallways.
But she had been more on edge than most.
And now she’d given him a brief glimpse into the reason why. He’d been certain she carried an arsenal of secrets with her, but he’d never imagined she’d been hurt so badly.
Evelyn was a survivor of abuse. Her scars ran deep, and the yearning to be the one to uncover—and heal—those scars overwhelmed him.
Disgust swirled in his stomach. His parents were ripped away after he’d left home and started his own life, but he had a wealth of happy memories.
He wanted nothing more out of life than a family like the one he’d grown up with, even if for now that family consisted of only Monica and him.
If he had children of his own one day, he’d do anything to protect them—not lock them away and leave them with baggage to unload for the rest of their lives.
A tap on the partially open door had him spinning toward it. The silhouette of a uniformed cop blocked the light slipping in through the slit between the door and the wooden frame.
Evelyn shot worried eyes his way.
“Do you want me to ask them inside, or have me step into the hallway?” he asked.
Evelyn tapped the head of the pen against the table as her gaze jumped between Connor and the door.
He cut across the room, stopping briefly behind her to place his hands on her shoulders and offer a reassuring squeeze, and then headed for the door. “Let’s see who it is first.”
Connor wedged the door open farther and found himself staring down at Officer Sanders. “What’s going on?” he asked and took a step farther into the hallway. If Sanders needed to tell him something about Monica’s case, Evelyn didn’t need to hear any more details.
“I heard you were here with a woman giving a statement against Gabriel Wilson. Word is a warrant’s coming soon. Are you going to his place with us?”
“I talked to Lieutenant Spencer earlier. He wants me to stay away, but I’ll know if Gabriel has something that belongs to Monica.” He blew out a small breath as pressure built in his chest.
Sanders nodded, and her dark, chin-length bob swayed around her full face. “I agree, for what it’s worth. I know it’s sucked for you not to work this case. But this is different. You should be there.”
Connor appreciated her candor and support, but it wouldn’t go far in persuading their lieutenant if his mind was made up. He tapped his index finger against the side of his leg. Waiting for everything to fall into place for the warrant was excruciating.
The confident sound of Evelyn’s sexy heels turned his head, the cop before him immediately forgotten. “Here’s your statement.” An unexpected note of authority rang in her tone as she passed him the paper.
He twisted and took the outstretched paper she held in her hand. “Thank you. Evelyn, this is Officer Sanders. She’s working on my sister’s case.”
A tight smile formed on her lips, and dammit if the wariness wasn’t back in her eyes. She stayed mostly concealed behind him as she nodded toward Sanders. Her timid body language stood in stark contrast to her confident statement moments before and broke off a piece of his heart.
He handed the statement to Sanders, who’d offered a genuine smile to Evelyn but seemed to understand it was better to mostly ignore her. “Can you take care of this?”
“I’m on it. I’ll be in touch.” Sanders hurried down the hall, the sound of her brisk pace echoing off the bare walls.
“What now?” Evelyn asked.
Connor glanced down at her big brown eyes, and a tiny splinter cracked through the fear around his heart.
He didn’t understand it, but when Evelyn was near, he gained the courage he needed to get through another minute of this nightmare.
“Now I take you home, and we wait for the warrant to come through.”
Evelyn sagged forward, and Connor couldn’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. Her muscles tightened for a second before she leaned in to him. “Home sounds nice.”
The raw edge to her voice squeezed his gut. He would take her home, then come hell or high water he’d get into Gabriel’s apartment. It would be a long night, but if everything went the way he hoped, Monica would be home before morning...as long as they weren’t too late.