Page 16 of Protecting Salvation

“You’re okay, sugar. You’re safe now.”

His eyes landed on a man walking towards them from the direction in which she’d come and it didn’t take a genius to peg him as a plain clothes officer. He was a walking talking suit cliché.

“I’m sorry.”

Hurricane eased his body away so he could look at her face and saw fear and panic in her eyes. “Hey, you don’t have a damn thing to be sorry for, Peyton.” He cupped her cheeks. “Are you okay, physically? Nobody hurt you did they?”

She shook her head. “No, I wasn’t here when it happened. I found it like this when I came in this morning.”

Although Bein had told him the same, hearing her say it made him feel better. “Good.”

He kept his arm around her and she burrowed closer as if she couldn’t bear to be away from him. He had to admit he liked that she felt safe with him and he’d do his damndest to make sure she stayed that way.

“Ms Lawson, would you like to introduce us to your friend?”

The way he said friend held so much innuendo and judgment it took everything in him not to react. He’d been around racism his entire life, he was used to it. It still irked and stung but he lived with it. Peyton, however, did not, and he wouldn’t have a woman he liked subjected to that sneer and tone.

“I already gave the officer my name. What happened here and what are you doing about it?”

“No need for that tone, son.”

Hurricane stiffened and Peyton stroked a hand down his spine and held on to the waistband of his jeans and it settled him a little.

“I ain’t your son.”

The Detective who had yet to offer any introduction, scowled. “Ms Lawson, perhaps you could call off your attack dog. We’re only trying to do our jobs and this isn’t helping.”

He wanted to say so much but he’d probably said enough already and he didn’t need the attention.

“Detective McCain, please do not refer to my friend worrying about me as him being my attack dog. It is rude and unbecoming of someone in your public position.”

McCain went red, and for a second Hurricane wondered if his eyes would pop out of his head from the pressure.

“We’ll be in touch, Ms Lawson, but perhaps in future you’ll ensure you’ve locked up correctly so that vandals don’t take advantage. A young woman alone really should be more careful.”

He nodded to the officer and they walked toward their cars, McCain muttering something about insurance claims. He waited until they left and then turned to Peyton. “What a needle dick.”

Her face morphed and she burst out laughing as he hugged her closer and dropped a kiss on her head that felt as natural as breathing. “He really is.”

He ushered her inside. “Come on, sugar, show me the damage and we can talk.”

Peyton took the narrow, twisty stairs up and he tried not to stare at her peachy butt and keep his eyes on the back of her head, but it was hard. Peyton made his hands itch to touch her. She was slim but had curves in the right places and she wasn’t skinny. She had meat on her bones and she liked to eat and that was a huge turn-on for him. A woman who knew what she liked and accepted who she was. Even now, recovering from the shock of the break-in and having her foundations rocked, she held her head high.

His shoulders brushed the walls as they climbed and he noticed scrapes on the walls that looked new and wondered if it was from her intruder. And what the hell had that asshat meant about locking up properly? He needed to find out.

His breath left him when he saw the devastation in her office, which he knew would have been a calm and serene environment from what he could see, left behind. The couch was overturned, all the stuffing ripped open with a blade of some kind. Her computer lay smashed on the floor, filing cabinets were tipped over, and plants destroyed but it was the writing on the wall that convinced him wholeheartedly that this wasn’t just vandals.

He stepped closer and pressed his finger to the pale brown mush that spelt out the word bitch. Sniffing he blinked and sniffed again. “Is that apple?”

“That’s what I thought.”

He rubbed his fingers together, before wiping it along his jeans. “So this is how you found it?”

Peyton nodded. “Yeah, the door was hanging off its hinges.”

“Wait, what? I thought detective needle dick said you forgot to lock up?” He walked to examine the door which he’d failed to do when he walked in and saw she was right, it had been kicked in or bashed in with something.

Peyton rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s what he’s trying to convince me happened but I know I locked up.” She swallowed and looked away. “I’m a bit paranoid about things like that since, well, you know.”