Authors: Sharon Hamilton
The end of the bat was slippery, red from her own cut fingers. She pushed the hair out of her face and took a stance like she had on the varsity softball team and got ready to swing again. She was going for a fucking home run this time.
The two remaining men backed away. “Look, we don’t want any trouble.”
“Too late. If you get your asses off this property
right fucking now,
you might get away.” She heard a distant siren and saw the remaining two workers exchange panicked glances. “I’d say you just fucking ran out of time.” She ran up to them.
“Okay, okay, hey. Lady, we’re going.” They held their palms out in front of them in a defensive gesture.
She watched them pick up their buddy, dump him in the back of the truck and start up the engine. Loud mariachi music blared to a blue, cloudless sky, and then trailed after the truck down its dusty path.
She thought the sirens were getting louder. Throwing the bat into the front seat of her Lexus, she darted out onto Bennett Valley Road, almost getting hit by a Mercedes coming the opposite direction. She checked her rear view mirror and although the Mercedes had wound up on the soft shoulder of the roadway, in a spray of gravel, they had come to a controlled stop in the opposite direction.
She tore as fast as she could down the half-mile stretch to the Rodriguez estate around the corner.
The gate had been crashed open. She had a very, very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. A twelve-passenger rental van had rammed into a ten foot water feature, knocking the statuary of a large fish onto the ground in pieces. Water sprayed everywhere.
Glancing toward the front door, she noticed it yawning open. She turned off the car, grabbed her baseball bat and ran inside. Halfway there, she tossed her heels as being completely useless, and ran in her stocking feet.
The inside of the house was cool and dark. She could hear groaning and the muffled moan of someone trying to say, “No.”
She followed the noise. Nick was standing over a man she figured was Mr. Rodriguez, his back to her. He had him in a chokehold and was attempting to get a tie out of his pocket. Rodriguez’s shirt was covered in blood, apparently from a broken nose. Both men were covered in dirt from what she’d assumed was a scuffle on the floor littered with the remains of a potted plant.
She took a deep breath and screamed at him. “Nick!”
The blood curdling scream initially made him jump as he checked over his shoulder and squinted.
“Devon?” He said.
“You let him go, or so help me I’ll knock your fuckin’ head off.”
Nick tightened his grip on Rodriguez.
“Oh, so you want to play, you son of a bitch? You want a piece of me, huh? You want this? You wanna play rough, now that I’m going to bash your head in? Come on, Nick, come and get it. Let’s see how a big, tough Navy SEAL can get it on with a varsity softball player.”
She was breathing like she’d just run a marathon. She was so into it, she hoped he’d challenge her. Devon wanted to smack him so hard she’d wipe out all his teeth, his jaw and maybe an eye. She was dying for that satisfying crunch of bone and the spurt of blood.
Nick dropped Rodriguez into a heap on the floor. He was looking at her, up and down. He didn’t smile. He was completely taken aback, and even took one step away from her.
This emboldened Devon, who took two steps in his direction, raising the bat above her head. “I had no idea I wanted to smack you so hard. You goddamned son of a bitch. You total freakin’ asshole turd—” she stopped for a minute to find the word, “You—you—you stinkin’ warted green toad.”
Was he laughing at her?
“You think this is funny, Nick?”
Rodriguez had slithered behind a desk and was on the phone. But just in time, as she was standing three feet in front of Nick, with her chest heaving and her bat ready to plunge into his skull she heard the click of weapons being readied behind her, and the bellowed command,
“Drop it, lady!”
At first she didn’t think it applied to her. The cops only went after bad guys. Nick had a smirk she wanted to wipe off his face, so she squinted, pursed her lips and lifted the bat higher over her head, readying her aim.
“Drop it or we’ll shoot!” That’s when it registered they were talking to her.
She didn’t take her gaze off Nick but blinked two times in succession. She wasn’t sure where she was, but she obeyed the command and dropped the bat to the floor. Someone behind her retrieved it. Someone else grabbed her wrists and handcuffed her behind her back. That brought her back to reality.
Nick stayed where he was, and accepted the handcuffs at his back too.
Perfect, just fucking perfect.
An officer lead her away backwards, tugging on her cuffs. She didn’t lose sight of Nick until they turned her around, protected her head and placed her in the back seat of the squad car.
Chapter 33
Nick wasn’t sure he could believe his eyes. He couldn’t shake off the vision of Devon standing in front of him, blood on her cheek and forehead, her shredded stockings and her black suit skirt covered in dust, her hair worse than when she’d gotten soaking wet that first day he’d seen her. The half-untied bow on the cream-colored blouse was ridiculous.
He was as shocked as he would have been if she’d managed to hit him between the eyes. Sitting in the back seat of the Sheriff’s car, behind a screen, handcuffed, he watched in slow motion as the vineyards passed him by, as the driveway to Sophie’s place came and went. There was a fire truck there and he wondered what had happened, and then remembered Devon’s appearance and knew, just knew, she’d had something to do with it.
He stopped straining to look at the beehive of activity there and sat back, examining the dirty squad car ceiling. And he started to smile.
He was going to be arrested for assault, no doubt ending his career. Maybe he’d even get jail time. He’d managed to do something he was never supposed to do: cause a public display. Draw attention to himself or his SEAL community. Interfere with local law enforcement.
And he discovered he was happy again. Really freakin’ jump-for-joy happy.
He started to laugh. The deputies watched him with a mixture of disdain and sorrow. Yeah, he was mental, all right. The sight of Devon with that baseball bat raised high. Her hair all mussed up like he’d just fucked her for two hours straight, not all prissy and well groomed. Hard jaw and eyes full of intent. No matter what happened to him, just seeing her that way had been worth it.
So
worth it.
A Navy SEAL and a varsity softball player.
He chuckled again to himself. That should be a book someone should write. True love. Covered in blood, ready to kill each other. It might have been worth it to let her do it, just to see what she’d do next.
He hadn’t had any idea she liked sports. They’d never talked about it. Never knew she played softball. God, she must have been a great player, too. Get her mad, go for revenge. She’d be hell on wheels, all right. Still, he should have known. Why hadn’t she told him?
Oh, yeah. That would be because he wasn’t letting her do much of the talking, he’d been such a selfish prick, wallowing around in his own mental bullshit, he couldn’t see the diamond right in front of him. And before that, well, he was pretty consumed in the little sounds she made when he pumped her. Those little whimpers. The way her forehead creased as she bit her lower lip and accepted him. If she’d told him anything at all, he probably wouldn’t have paid attention, he’d have been too busy fantasizing about that sweet little mouth and the noises it made.
Like oxygen suddenly flooded him after being deprived, he started to feel warm. So nice to get out of the fuckin’ cave he’d been living in. The blue-grey place of despair and self-pity. Even if he sat in a cell for the next ten years, he could remember what Devon had done today and would have to say he’d do it all over again.
He was so absolutely proud of her. Fearless didn’t even begin to describe what she was. She was a throwback to some warrior princess girls were always reading about when they were teenagers. The ones who save the world and then go home and cook dinner.
She wasn’t going to let Sophie’s property fall into the wrong hands. She didn’t care what it looked like, whether or not anyone came to her aid, whether or not she got hurt. She was just like him. She just wouldn’t quit. And when he’d just about quit the whole world, Devon still hadn’t.
She’s stronger than I am.
Who would ever be able to walk away from a woman like that? Talk about crazy.
That
was crazy!
For once, although it was totally inappropriate, his big head and his little head were in perfect agreement
Devon was helped out of the car by two female attendants who were clearly disturbed by what they saw. She avoided eye contact with anyone. The guys in the car were trying to catch her eye. Kept asking her questions about real estate. She tried answering them professionally, after first brushing the hair from her face with her bloody hands. She could only guess what she looked like. She felt like asking them if they’d ever consider buying a house from someone who looked like her?
So maybe she could go with it. Use her mug shot on her stupid plastic signs? She started to chuckle at that one. Wait until the ladies in the office and her broker found out about what she’d done. Oh yes, and the paper, that liked to print stories about the multiple deals she did, the one time she did a twelve-sided transaction with five title companies, ten realtors and fifteen buyers and sellers, including a guy in prison and a family in France. Who cared now?
So much for being the top producer and having your picture plastered on bus benches and shopping carts where they put baby bottoms. So much for the awards news releases. The 1099 with the upper six-figure income. None of it mattered. In fact, it got in the way.
She’d probably lose her license. So be it. Maybe she could take some of her savings and work Sophie’s nursery. Maybe she needed to get her fingers dirty. She knew how to promo, she knew half the town.
And she knew how to defend her turf with a baseball bat. She hoped she could get that bat back. It had a satisfying weight to it and she liked the noises made by the things it came in contact with, human or otherwise.
The matrons gave her a onesie prison jumpsuit in light blue. She asked for a shower and was granted the opportunity to wash her hair, though she had to buy the shampoo and they didn’t have cream rinse. She used a little shampoo as a face cleanser rather than the soap that smelled it was partially made of lye.
The reality of her situation came home when she sat on the cot in her cell. That’s when she started to shiver. She got cold.
And, God in Heaven, she missed Nick.
Timmons repeated everything Kyle had told him. The rest of the team guys wanted to hear what he had to say in response. They’d not stopped talking about the chemistry between Nick and Devon. The whole team, all two hundred men, minus one, would know all about it soon.
But Kyle explained she managed to do what they had messed up doing. She had rescued Nick, as Sophie requested, and if it wasn’t for Devon, Nick would be looking at thirty years. And she’d saved him in the only way it was possible to save him. She matched him.
Kyle knew Timmons’s marriage was loveless. But he loved his daughter, so he put up with the pink bedroom and the doll collection his wife “invested” in.
“I’m having a hard time picturing all of this, Kyle,” Timmons said.
“Believe me, sir, I would have given anything to see those two in action. The stories are pretty incredible.”
“I can’t say that’s much of a love story, son.”
“Believe me, it is, sir. Those two were made for each other.”
“And you think Nick is right as rain?”
Kyle hesitated. “I think he’ll need some time off. But, believe me, if we can get everything straight, which should not be a problem since they’ve arrested Rodriguez for murder, he’ll have someone who’s got his back better than we could ever do.”
“Well, shit. Damned if I know anything about it. I haven’t been in love for over twenty five years.”
“Sorry about that, sir. You try counseling?”
“No. We’re as close as we’re going to be. She gave me my daughter, and beyond that, she didn’t have anything else to give, I guess.”
Devon and Nick were arraigned in the same courtroom the next day. Nick felt some of his helpless anger creep back when he found out Devon made bail for both of them, if they needed it, and paid the attorney to appear. They sat five chairs apart in the offender box.
“You look good in blue,” he finally said out of the side of his mouth without looking at her.
“Orange isn’t your color.”
He laughed. “I still can’t forget that look on your face when you—“
“Bailiff, please instruct the prisoners to be silent in the courtroom,” the judge barked.
They had to wait nearly forty-five minutes for their turn. There wasn’t much opposition to dismissal of Nick’s case. The attorney Devon hired had a copy of the police report, citing the arrest of Sophie’s neighbor. The Assistant District Attorney almost apologized to him for the inconvenience he’d suffered, especially after the loss of his sister.
But with Devon’s case, there were actual damages to the pickup truck owned by Mr. Rodriguez, even though Rodriguez probably wouldn’t be pressing charges and would have his own set of legal issues to deal with. The DA knew he’d kind of botched the case initially, something the sharp defense attorney argued. In the end, the ADA didn’t put up much of a fight, and allowed the dismissal.
Nick and Devon were escorted from the courtroom back to the holding cell to change into street clothes. Just before he ducked into the entrance to the cell, he turned to her and whispered, “Don’t wear panties.”
She wiggled her eyebrows up and down and said, “I’m bringing my baseball bat, too.”
Nick was the first to exit the building. Kyle held out the keys to a red mustang convertible the team had rented for him.