Officer Next Door (13 page)

Humans weren’t so different than animals, really. At least, not the ones with badges and guns, egos so fucking big it was a wonder they could walk through doorways. Fucking pigs, hypocrites to the bone, every last one of ‘em.

Troy hadn’t minded killing those two cops, wouldn’t mind killing a few COs from Riley, starting with the ones who’d ruined his arm.

He’d been living with the wound’s stink for a while now; he only noticed it when he moved. When he did, the putrid scent wafted up, reminding him that his days were surely numbered. The bullet had gone through the meaty part of his upper arm. He’d had that nurse bandage him up, but it hadn’t been enough. The wound had started smelling by sunrise.

He needed more than the splash of iodine she’d given him, the gauze and tape. He needed medicine – some kind of antibiotic or something. Every time he went into a house, he hurried to search for two things – food and medicine.

He was barely scraping by food-wise, and had had shitty luck on the medicine front. All he’d found so far were heart pills and Tylenol, a little bit of cold sore cream. No antibiotics and no serious pain meds – both things we would’ve gladly given his left nut for.

At least he wasn’t in chains any more. He’d smashed the black box on a rock, then used the key to unlock the handcuffs, shortly after escaping the bus. He’d been living rough ever since, sneaking into houses to steal but sleeping in the woods. They’d been searching for him, but he knew how to hide, knew how to cover his tracks and live like the animal they treated him like. His old man had taught him well.

“Shit. Fuck.” He rolled over on his bed of leaves, where he lay sheltered beneath a fallen pine. Hidden behind its veil of needled branches, he felt relatively safe. Safe and miserable, sweating against the floor of decaying needles.

Every once in a while, a mosquito would land on him, or a spider would skitter by. He fucking hated the woods, but not as bad as he hated prison. Miserable or not, freedom was freedom, and he’d rather die free than rot in a cell with his arm still attached.

Hell, even if he turned himself in or got caught, they’d probably cut it off just to spite him, leaving him one-armed in the state’s biggest prison – a death sentence. Since he’d killed those two cops, every goddamned officer in Riley would turn a blind eye, too.

Fucking pricks in blue stuck together. Thinking about that, he decided right then that he wouldn’t be taken alive, no matter what. If he was going to die, he was going to take as many of those miserable fuckers with him as he could, starting with the PERT team.

He didn’t have long. Luckily, Troy had been to Riley before, had spent a few years there not long ago. He still remembered a few names, information he’d tucked away for a rainy day. One in particular rose to the surface of his mind, and he knew where he’d start: Liam Alexander.

Next time he broke into a house, he’d look for a phone book. That and a gun, or maybe gasoline and matches. He’d find something, and just like him, the Alexander bastard would never make it out of Riley County alive.

It was the dead of night when it happened – adrenaline surged through Liam’s chest, sharp as a knife. By the time he realized what had jarred him awake, he’d already rolled out of bed. His feet hit the floor, bare against the boards as the sound of breaking glass echoed through his mind, followed by a series of sharp barks from Holden, who’d been placed in a crate in the living room for the night.

A shape stirred in the bed he’d abandoned – a sexy shape that almost made him forget about his alarm for the barest fraction of a second. Alicia. Memories hit him hard, but there was no time to savor what they’d done – what he wanted to do to her again. Instead, he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and hurried to the steps, pausing only to retrieve the Glock he kept in his nightstand drawer.

“Stay here,” he called over his shoulder before taking the stairs three at a time.

Like his bedroom, the first floor was steeped in darkness. He’d shut all the lights off before settling into bed for the night with Alicia, but there was enough moonlight to show him the damage that’d been done, to glint off the shattered glass on the kitchen floor like the first rays of a sunrise glinted off the ocean. Holden was still barking.

The Glock was heavy and steady in his hand, death for anyone who might appear holding a similar weapon. He was trained to use it, and more than willing – he’d promised to protect Alicia, and he’d do it or die trying.

But there was no one. He checked the entire first floor – every last square foot – but the house seemed secure. The window above the sink had been busted though, and the object that’d done it lay in the center of a puddle of glass shards.

It was a rock. A big one, about the size of his fist. It occurred to him that he shouldn’t disrupt any fingerprints that might’ve been left on it, but he couldn’t resist handling it. A sense of dread that normally lived buried deep in his gut had risen to the surface.

After laying down his gun and wrapping his hand in a clean kitchen towel, he picked up the rock and detached the note, handling it as gingerly as possible.

“Liam?” Alicia’s voice came from above, and he turned toward the stairs.

“Is everything okay?”

He caught sight of one bare leg in the moonlight, her bare feet on the stairs.

“Stay where you are. Just in case.”

There were no windows by the staircase; it was probably the safest place for her. No one was in the house, but it was possible that someone could be lurking outside, silent in the shadowed woods that stretched behind his house. If someone threw something else through another window, he didn’t want it to stand a chance of hitting her.

“What’s going on?” She descended a little farther but remained on the staircase, Holden at her heels. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, and the sight of her naked body striped in moonlight and shadow made his breath freeze in his lungs.

Consciously exhaling, he turned his attention back to the projectile on the kitchen floor, surrounded by an array of broken glass. “Someone threw a rock through the window.”

For a few seconds, she didn’t say anything.

“On purpose?” she eventually asked.

“Yeah.” As if anyone would be lurking on the rural road in the dead of night, accidentally lobbing stones at one of the only two houses within a half mile’s radius. “They never came inside the house, though. I’m going to call my cousin.”

“Your cousin?”

“He works down at the police station. He’s a Riley County deputy.”

“Oh.” Her soft reply echoed through the dark house, emphasizing the silence. He longed to reach out and touch her, but the broken glass stretched between them, a glittering sea that warned him not to let his guard down.

Truth was, there were hundreds of people who could’ve thrown that rock. Keeping society’s worst under lock and key tended to make a guy plenty of enemies.

* * * * *

It was two in the morning and the sun had yet to rise, but Liam’s house was awash with light. Several police officers were in the kitchen, and Alicia sat on the bottom of the staircase, keeping Holden in her lap so he wouldn’t get in the way.

The glass had been cleaned up, the rock removed from the floor and taken as evidence.

Her blood ran cold every time she remembered the sound of breaking glass, then heated with anger. She hated that there was someone out there trying to terrorize Liam, maybe plotting to hurt him. Wasn’t his job dangerous enough? Before, she’d watched anxiously for his vehicle to pull into his driveway. Now, she knew she’d never stop worrying – not even when he was home.

“These guys will be out of here soon,” Liam said, breaking off conversation with his cousin to approach her. Standing tall, he towered over her, dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt he’d pulled on after he’d called the police department. “You’ll be able to go back to bed.”

She nodded, doubting that she’d be able to fall back asleep. “Do they have any idea who threw the rock?”

He shrugged. “If you count the number of convicted felons who might hold a grudge against me, or have actually threatened to kill me and have since been released from prison, there are dozens of suspects, at least.”

“What about the Levinson brothers?” She forced herself to say it, not particularly eager to voice the possibility but unable to ignore it. The thought had been plaguing her ever since she’d woken to the sound of breaking glass.

“I won’t lie – it’s possible. They haven’t been caught yet.”

She nodded, donning her best poker face. If Liam wasn’t afraid, then she wouldn’t show any fear either. Problem was, it was harder not to be afraid for him than it was not to be afraid for herself.

“It could be a stupid prank,” he continued. “Just some jackass trying to scare me. We’ve got to treat it like it’s something worse though, because it might be.”

Before she could reply, Liam’s cousin approached. She was pretty sure she’d heard Liam call him Jeremy, though he wore a name plate that identified him as Officer Conner. Like Liam, he was tall, though a little slimmer and not quite as dark haired. He tipped his head toward the front door, his expression serious. “There are some signs of attempted forced entry around the front door. The window above the sink, too. Looks like whoever threw that rock tried to pry their way in here first.”

Liam turned red beneath his suntan, and his lips thinned into a straight line that radiated anger. For a few seconds, Alicia actually felt like she was looking at Officer Alexander – someone who might have to subdue a close security criminal – instead of the neighbor who’d leant her sugar.

“We’re finishing up here, but we’re sending a canine search team through the woods behind your house right now, in case one of the Levinsons did this and is still in the area. We’re also gonna have an officer running an extra patrol on this road for the next 24 hours. If anything out of the ordinary happens, give me a call. An officer already checked Ms. Dalton’s house – everything looked okay.”

“Right.” Liam nodded, his anger obvious but controlled.

Alicia held Holden a little tighter as he tried to wriggle away. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she glanced toward the darkness beyond one window, the night that shrouded her empty house. She was glad she’d taken Liam up on his offer to stay the night, and not just because it had provided a chance to live out their mutual fantasy.

* * * * *

Branches tore at Troy as he ran through the night, feeling his clothing and skin give way, tearing. The pain was nothing at all – he could hardly feel the cuts, the throbbing in his arm was so much worse. What were a few scratches compared to the hole a bullet had left in his body?

Taking things slow was out of the question. He’d heard sirens wailing in the distance, knew the police would be crashing through the woods soon. They’d probably have dogs, would exhaust the night searching for him. He’d be caught if he spent the night among the pines, even if he hunkered down out of sight.

That didn’t mean the game was over, though.

The noise of running water was sweet music to his ears, the sound of freedom. He threw himself into a creek, used all his strength to wade through thigh-deep water. Thoughts of snakes and gators crept up on him, but a dying man didn’t have time to be afraid. Stumbling over unseen rocks, dripping wet, he pressed on, wading downstream, leaving a cold scent trail for the canines. He didn’t climb out until he’d gone as far as he could stand to go.

When he finally climbed out of the water, he kept moving, stumbling over dry land. His only real option was to get out of the woods and hide where the police would never expect him to dare to go.

* * * * *

“Maybe we should turn on the news,” Alicia said, glancing down the hall and toward the living room as she sat at Liam’s kitchen table, eating a bowl of Rice Krispies with half a banana sliced on top.

Liam had put on a pot of coffee while she’d made breakfast for them both – just cereal, but after the night they’d had Liam didn’t have the stomach to eat a big breakfast, let alone cook. Besides, he was in a hurry – the fact that the Levinson brothers still hadn’t been caught meant he had to head back in to work and rejoin the search. It wasn’t even light outside yet.

He felt like shit, but it was so worth it. Tired as he was, his dick still got half-hard when he thought of how he’d spent his short period of allotted ‘rest’ time.

He set a huge cup of coffee down on the table, directly in front of Alicia. “Uh-uh. There’s no reason to stress yourself out more – Jeremy will call and let me know if anything significant happens with the Levinson brothers. Why don’t you go back to bed? It’s not even 4 am.”

She frowned, ignoring his suggestion. “So no news is bad news.”

He shrugged as he caught sight of the dark circles beneath her eyes. “No news means they haven’t been caught, but it also means they haven’t hurt anyone else – that law enforcement knows of. So no news is just … no news.”

She nodded, still frowning, her eyes a little red from lack of sleep. She looked pretty anyway – so pretty his pants felt too tight, and he felt his blood rushing south, depriving him of willpower. Turn on the news? Hell, he’d do just about anything she asked, if she really wanted it. He didn’t want her to spend the morning glued to the TV hyping herself up with worry, though.

The local news media kept returning to the Levinson brothers’ escape like sharks to a busy fishing pier, reporting on the story in circles, sensationalizing everything. Good for entertainment and public awareness of the fugitives, but not so much for locals’ peace of mind. Alicia was clearly shaken up and he couldn’t blame her, especially after what’d happened the night before.

“I’m going to get dressed for the day.” She stood and pushed back her chair, leaving her cereal only half-eaten, but her coffee cup empty.

She could easily have gone back to bed and slept for a couple more hours before having to leave for work at Wisteria. A part of him wondered if she was determined to stay up because she was afraid to be alone. After what’d happened, he couldn’t blame her, and hated that he had to leave her.

By the time she returned from upstairs, dressed in a long skirt and an airy blouse, her hair loose and wavy around her shoulders, he’d turned the situation over every which way in his mind.

It was no use. He had to rejoin the search, and Henry and Grey would be there too. Jeremy was working his ass off as well. There was no one he could ask to stay with her for the next few hours.