He grunts. "Believe me, the thoughts I've been having about you today are anything but fatherly."
I flush. "Is that right?"
"It's right," he murmurs, low and sexy.
"It's a shame you're working then."
"A fuckin' shame."
I squirm, wishing more than anything that he wasn't working tonight.
"Oh well, I guess you have your thoughts to keep you company, then."
He growls, and I could swear my panties pack up and run away from me. "You better go to your friend's house, or I'll have to walk away from this case so I can come home and feel myself inside you again. And I don't have time for that, unfortunately, because the sooner I can find this fucker and remove him from your life, the better."
I agree softly, but even I can hear the husky edge to my voice. "Okay, big guy."
"Get Bill outside to escort you over to Taylor's, and I'll give him a call and tell him to wait outside there for the night, too."
"Okay. Thank you."
"Give me a call before you go to sleep tonight, let me know you're safe."
My heart swells. "Okay, detective."
"Okay, darlin'. Good night."
Darlin'.
Swoon.
"Good night."
I hang up the phone and quickly text Taylor back.
H: I'm on my way!
T: Yay! I'll have the essentials ready.
I rush into my room, change into a pair of jeans and a tank, and then pack some things I'll need for the night before heading back out into the kitchen. I check around quickly to make sure I've got everything, and then I step out into the hall, locking the door behind me. Bill is already waiting, and when he sees me, he says, "Ready to go?"
I nod, happy I'm finally doing something semi-normal for a change. It's been a while since I've gone out and just had some fun with Taylor. The last few weeks have been a roller coaster of emotion and fear and pain. This is the first time I feel okay. I don't know how long that'll last, so I'm going to hang on with both hands and pray it doesn't leave.
The drive to Taylor's takes about ten minutes. Riding in the cop car with these guys never gets old. I have a smile on my face the entire journey. When we arrive at Taylor's, I look up to her apartment and see her standing in the window. I can't see her face from here, but she gives me a wave.
"Did you want to come in and check?" I ask Bill.
He looks up at Taylor. "That your friend?"
"Yeah, that's her."
"That's all good, then. I'll walk you to the door, but she is clearly not in any danger."
I smile and slide out of the cop car, letting my eyes scan the streets automatically before I move quickly to the front door. Bill follows close behind me, doing the same. When I reach the lift, he rides with me up to the third floor. He checks the halls, and then turns to me, "It's all good. I'll be down at the front entrance, I'll make sure nobody comes up without going past me."
"Thank you, Bill," I smile. "Have a good night."
He nods as the doors to the elevator close. I walk to Taylor's door and knock. A minute passes, and then I hear the lock unclick and the door open. Taylor stands in the doorway, but she's not the happy person I'd swear was just waving to me from the window. Of course, I couldn't see her face, but now … she looks terrified. Something cold washes over me, and her lips part to say something, to warn me maybe, but it's too late.
A figure steps out from behind her. I can tell it's a man right away because of his height, and also the lean build with enough muscle to tell me it is definitely not a woman.
I can't see his face, he's wearing a full-faced mask with only eyes and nose holes. He's also wearing a pair of shades, so I can't see the shape or even the color of his eyes. He's holding a massive butcher knife in one hand, and a gun in the other. That gun points directly at the back of my best friend's head. My entire world stops moving. I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't do anything but stand there and stare.
"Get inside."
His voice is muffled by some sort of voice changer that is over his mouth, somehow connected behind his head, maybe by a strap, so it comes out sounding crackly and machinelike.
I take a shaky step forward, my knees trembling, my body cold from head to toe. I should scream, or turn and run, or call out to someone, but I can't do that. I can't because I know he will pull the trigger of the gun that's aimed at Taylor's head. I will not allow that to happen. So I go inside, just like he demands.
"Stand over there, hands on your head," he orders, pointing the gun at Taylor and nodding in the direction of the kitchen. "Or I scatter her brains."
I flinch and do as he says, walking over to where the kitchen is. My bag drops to the ground as I put my hands up above my head. Taylor is shoved next to me and we both stand there like that, watching as he shuts and locks the door. Then he turns and faces us. His head tips down to my handbag, and he demands, "Kick that to me."