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Dash
Islip on my T-shirt as I walk through the kitchen, looking for Peppermint. I woke up alone. Now that I’ve officially claimed her, I don’t plan on waking up alone ever again. I start to head to the bathroom, but a scream stops me dead in my tracks.
I snatch the door open. A mix of rage and fear runs through my blood at the sight of Officer Whitfield on top of Peppermint. She’s fighting like a damn banshee, trying to get him off her. I don’t hesitate. I run right at him, slinging him off her and wrestling him to the ground. He’s quick with his baton, smashing it against my head. That split second I waver is all it takes for him to fucking pounce on me. Better me than Peppermint. I’ll take a beating any day for her. Obviously.
He tosses the baton to the ground as I lean over and spit out blood. The next thing I know, his hands are around my throat. And he isn’t trying to choke me out, he’s trying to fucking kill me. I reach up and grasp his throat, pushing him back, trying to get him to let me go.
Three gunshots sound, and his body stiffens before going limp against me. I shove him off and roll out from beneath him. Peppermint stands there, gun in hand, her face scratched and bruised from their altercation. Her hands are shaking.
I get to my feet and rush over to her, taking the gun and wrapping her in my arms. Some of her neighbors are venturing out of their homes in their nightgowns and pajamas, clearly trying to figure out what the hell happened.
“Call the police!” I yell. I know there’s no getting out of this. Too many witnesses. The club can’t afford to pay for the people’s silence.
“What do we do?” Peppermint asks, panic rising in her tone. “Oh my God. What do we do?”
“We tell the truth. He has questioned you before, served you with the suspension, and he came to your home and attacked you.”
“He messed up your bike.”
“My bike can be replaced. You can’t.”
She shakes her head, and I lead her over to the porch to sit down. She’s pretty shaken up, and I don’t blame her. Taking another person’s life affects everyone differently, but I haven’t met anyone who has said it doesn’t stay with you, haunts you, regardless of the circumstances.
“I don’t understand why he’s targeting me,” she murmurs. “Oh no, he said all of us. What if he sent someone to attack the others?”
“I’ll check on them, but I really think he was working alone. Seth didn’t find any indication he was doing this shit through the department. The cops on our payroll said they don’t affiliate with him. That he’s a loner.”
“Please check on them.”
“I don’t want to leave you right now.”
She gazes up at me. “I’ll be okay. Please check on my friends.”
I do as she asks, reluctantly going inside to get my phone. I’m only gone a few minutes, but when I come back, the cops have arrived, and they want a statement from us both. A female cop is photographing Peppermint’s wounds. I glance over at my bike, which is totally fucked. I won’t be riding it down to the station, that’s for sure.
“Can we have some time to get dressed? Maybe be at the station in an hour?” I ask the officer. He nods.
Peppermint walks inside in front of me, heading straight to the bathroom. She’s filthy, and no doubt wants a shower. When she gets in the bathroom, she just stands there, staring at her reflection in the mirror. I step behind her, slowly undressing her. She’s a mess of scratches and bruises. If she hadn’t killed that asshole, I would have figured out a way to.
“Everyone else is fine,” I assure her. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“He said he had friends. He was going...to share me with them.”
“The club will never let that happen. I will never let that happen.”
“But you know what that means, right? This isn’t over. He wasn’t working alone. It’s only a matter of time before someone else comes looking for Dean.”
“We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” I promise.
Turning the shower on, I step out of my boxers, then help her into the shower and stand there with her, my arms around her as the water beats down on us.
“I can’t describe what I felt seeing him on top of you. Knowing he was hurting you,” I confess. “Knowing he would’ve done more if he could have.”
“You saved me.”
“No, you saved me,” I correct. “And...Jesus...I love you. Everything about you. Your smile, your laugh. The way your eyes sparkle when you play a song on the jukebox. The way you cock your head to the side and arch an eyebrow when someone orders water at the bar. I love your damn age, Peppermint. I needed a mature woman.” She rests her head against my chest, circling her arms around my waist. “Tell me you feel the same way.”
“Are young guys always this bossy?”
“Fuck, I love that mouth of yours, too.”
“Pretty sure I fell for you the first time you asked me to kill zombies with you.”
I trail my finger down her cheek and tip her chin up. “You shouldn’t have held out for so long,” I say with a grin before pressing my lips to hers.
“How long do we have?” she asks.
“An hour.” She takes my dick into her hands, stroking slowly. “We don’t have to do this. You were just attacked.”
“Yes,” she says. “I want to forget about that. And I know you can make that happen.”
So, I do. Because she’s my ol’ lady. The woman I love. And I’ll give her whatever she needs.
