Chapter 7
Hadley usually slept like the dead. Her magnesium and ashwagandha supplements made sure of it. She even cut off all fluids after seven to make sure she never had to get up to pee in the middle of the night. Sleep was that important to her.
Something was wrong. And not just because her supplements had failed her. Her house felt wrong. Like…
She wasn’t alone.
Hadley sat straight up in bed, only to be brutally slammed back down with a damp, meaty hand clamped over her mouth.
A man she’d never seen before leaned in close. He sneered at her before muttering, “Stay down, stay quiet.”
The guy looked like a giant leaning over her bed—a giant that smelled like garlic and stale sweat and had the dead-eyed stare of a shark who was about to devour her whole.
That’s when Darren shuffled out of the shadows, staring down at her dispassionately, cradling his casted wrist with his good hand. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation.”
Jesus Christ, what the hell was there left to say? What did he want from her? Was he going to take her to his murder basement where he’d cut her head off and wear it around like a hat??
Her heart was pounding so hard it was probably bruising the skin on her chest. She wanted to move. Wanted to fight. But the cold way they were both staring down at her stopped her.
She needed to be smart about this. If she could calm down, she could think straight. Figure out the right moment to fight.
She willed herself to breathe as normally and slowly as possible through her nose (which thankfully wasn’t covered by this asshole’s stupid, sweaty hand) and kept her mind focused on her current predicament instead of what might happen if she wasn’t able to escape.
“I know you probably have a lot of questions,” Darren said. “But I can’t let Liam take his hand off your mouth just yet.”
“Fucking idiot,” Liam muttered, tossing his messy blond hair out of his eyes. “No real names! No wonder your dad won’t let you anywhere near the business.”
Hadley hoped Darren would turn his focus to Liam. Maybe that would give her the space she needed to get out of this mess. But Darren dashed her hopes of escape as easily as he’d dashed her hopes about her dating life by ignoring Liam completely.
“Here’s the deal,” he went on. “I love you. I know you love me too. You’re just scared.”
Well, he was right about one of those things.
“But I won’t let you ruin what we have by running away again. So, you have a choice to make. We can leave here, tonight, quietly, and be at the courthouse when they open to apply for our marriage license. Or…well, I guarantee you won’t like the other option.”
Cole’s night had started off so good.
He’d grilled himself an absolutely perfect medium New York strip. He’d had a relaxing eight-mile run on the treadmill.
Then, he’d put on a little show for Hadley and watched lust cloud her gorgeous brown eyes. Surely that would make up for the lame way he’d acted around her the previous night…right?
He’d fallen asleep with Hadley on his mind—not for the first time in their acquaintance. It had been a fairly deep sleep, too. That almost never happened. He was the world’s worst sleeper.
Then the call came in.
Cole should’ve known something was horribly amiss when it took Ren more than an hour to dig up information on Darren.
“Do you have eyes on your neighbor?”
The concern in Ren’s voice gave him serious pause. He was pretty sure he’d never heard Ren’s voice carry anything stronger than mild interest. “What did you find?”
“The guy is a train wreck,” Ren said. “There are probably active-duty cops who haven’t interacted with other cops as much as this guy has. Battery, possession, theft, rape…he’s been accused of it all. Charges never stick.
“Fuck,” Cole muttered.
Only criminals with good connections could make that many charges disappear. Which meant good old Darren wasn’t just a handsy asshole, he was a dangerous handsy asshole.
“Yep. I knew he was connected, but it wasn’t obvious how connected until I did a little more digging.”
Cole moved to look out his bedroom window. Every light in Hadley’s house was off. Driveway was empty. So was the street. If Darren was out there somewhere, he was at least smart enough not to leave his car in plain sight of her house.
That was troubling. In Cole’s experience, reasonably intelligent bad guys were much harder to deal with than even the most violent idiots. “Who’s backing him?”
“Mafia. The Irish. Your guy’s not a made man, but his father, Aedan, is an underboss. He cut Darren out of the family business when it became clear he was a liability, but they always bail him out of trouble.”
“He’s guilty? You’re sure?”
“I’d bet my hands on it.”
Cole had broken the guy’s wrist, embarrassed him in front of Hadley, and stopped whatever he’d planned to do with her that night. He’d bet his hands on the fact that the asshole wouldn’t show up on Cole’s doorstep looking for revenge. No. Bullies and abusers were far too cowardly for that.
He’d take his rage out on Hadley.
Cole grabbed his gun, tucking it into the back waistband of his sweats before ending the call with Ren.
On a good day, he’d take some time before charging into danger to assess the situation.
Too bad today was not a good day.