Read Bullets & Bonfires Page 5


  Instead of sleeping or doing whatever he does during the day before he starts the afternoon shift, he’s offering to drive me all over Empire County so I don’t have to be alone. Even so, I can’t take the overbearing is that what you’re wearing attitude from anyone ever again. Not even Liam.

  “Well, I’m not changing. It’s supposed to be like ninety-five degrees today. If some degenerate cops can’t behave themselves in the presence of a girl in a dress, that’s their problem, not mine.”

  “You’re right. Come on, let’s go.”

  I follow him outside to his truck, where he opens my door. The bright sun stabs me in the eyes and I paw through my purse looking for my sunglasses.

  Liam’s rough fingers brush my cheek. “Your face?”

  I force out a laugh that borders on deranged. “Nothing but the best corrective camouflage concealer. Bought a whole goddamn palette,” I grumble. I hate wearing makeup. Especially heavy makeup when it’s so damn hot. I’m self-conscious about looking like a clown. Having Liam stare at me isn’t helping.

  “That’s what took you so long?”

  I lift my chin and meet his concerned gaze. “Yes.”

  “Bree.” He reaches out and takes my hand. “What he did to you. That’s his shame, not yours.”

  My mouth opens but no words come out. He leans down and kisses my forehead, then opens the truck door wide, offering me a hand for support.

  No matter how much I try to joke with Bree or get her to talk to me, she’s quiet until we leave the town limits.

  “How big of an area do you patrol?” she asks.

  “Base is in Clarktown, runs up to the Slater County border and down to the Empire City limit, but I can be sent anywhere in the county depending on what the department needs that day. Why? You want to apply for a job?” I toss her a cocky grin. “The academy is rough, but I think you can handle it.”

  She finally laughs. “No, I’m still set on Psychology.”

  “No one likes the headshrinker, Bree.”

  “Yeah, I imagine all you macho-tough-guys have a rough time getting in touch with your feelings.”

  That hits close to home and I snap my mouth shut.

  After a few minutes I ask, “Where do you have to go after we pick up the report?”

  She pulls her purse into her lap and digs through it until she finds a yellow slip of paper. “I’m meeting with Magdalene McKay in the Special Victims Unit.”

  “I know Maggie. She’s good.”

  “How do you know her?” Bree asks in an even voice. I glance over quickly, but can’t read her expression.

  “From different cases I’ve worked on.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Duh.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her shaking her head.

  It takes a few minutes to find a parking spot in front of the station. “You can drop me off and I’ll just run in,” Bree says the second time we circle the block.

  Not happening. “We’re good,” I say, slipping into a spot designated for county workers. I toss a card on the dashboard and hustle to open her door.

  “I’m fine,” she says, brushing off my attempt to help her out of the truck. She runs her hands over her dress, fluffing the skirt a few times and I realize she’s nervous. “My hem isn’t tucked up in my underwear or anything, is it?” she asks.

  The question forces me to look at her perfectly curved backside. “You’re covered,” I mumble.

  “Why are you so cranky?”

  “I’m not. Let’s get this over with.”

  My hand fits perfectly into the small of her back as I guide her into the station. The quick smile she flashes when I open the door rocks me, but somehow I keep my cool. We’re not on a date for fuck’s sake.

  “Hollister! How’ve you been?”

  “Hey, Howard.” I take his outstretched hand. “I’m good. You still with corrections?”

  He pulls a face that most C.O.s make. “Puttin’ in my twenty-five. Headin’ back there now.” His gaze strays to Bree and he raises an eyebrow.

  My arm tightens around her waist. “This is my friend Bree.”

  She stretches out her hand which he takes—briefly—after checking out the look on my face.

  “Will you be here for a minute?” I ask.

  “Sure.”

  I lead Bree upstairs to the window where she needs to pick up the police report and an additional incident report. “Hi, Patty, can you take care of my friend? She’s picking up a DRI and—”

  “I have the incident number,” Bree says, cutting me off and handing over the information.

  Confident she has it handled, I walk back downstairs to chat with my buddy Howard.

  I’m a mess of contradictions. Having Liam with me today makes my situation seem too real. Even so, I miss his strength when he runs downstairs.

  The woman at the counter is efficient and hands over what I need quickly. Since there’s only one staircase, I figure I can’t miss Liam, and head down to meet him as soon as I’m finished.

  We nearly collide at the bottom of the staircase. “Sorry,” he says, gently gripping my arm to steady me. “I was coming right back.”

  “I wanted to meet you.”

  He flashes a tight smile and takes my hand. “Get everything you needed?”

  “Yup. They were nice and helpful.”

  “Good,” he says, absently holding open the front door.

  “It wasn’t as awful as I expected,” I confess as soon as we’re back in Liam’s truck.

  “Were you worried?”

  “A little.”

  “I’m sorry I left you.”

  I reach over and settle my hand on his leg. “Liam, it’s fine. Really.”

  He seems to accept that and gives my hand a quick squeeze.

  When we reach the District Attorney’s office, he walks me inside there too. I appreciate his company more than I’ve been able to express today. We’re sitting waiting for the attorney when I bump him with my shoulder, drawing his attention to me. “Thank you for everything.”

  “No problem, sweetness.” His gaze flicks to the cubicle farm in front of us and the closed office doors along the outer wall. “Maggie’s not going to allow me in there while she’s interviewing you. Will you be all right if I run a few errands? I won’t be gone more than an hour. Your interview will probably take that long.”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  “If I’m not back in time, wait here. I’ll come upstairs to get you, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you.” I curl my fingers around his and he gives me a gentle squeeze.

  “Brianna Avery?”

  I shoot up out of my chair so fast, I almost stumble in the high-heeled sandals I’m not used to wearing.

  “Hi. I’m Brianna.”

  “Hi, Miss Avery.” The woman can best be described as short and severe. From her no-nonsense brunette bob to her low-heeled comfort flats, she radiates professionalism and confidence. “I’m Assistant District Attorney, Magdalene McKay.”

  “Thank you for meeting with me today.”

  She nods as if to say it’s no big deal, just part of her job. Her gaze lands on Liam and she scowls. “You’re not assigned to her case, Deputy Hollister.”

  “Bree’s a personal friend. I’m escorting her around today.”

  The attorney cocks her head and studies him for a minute. I like her already.

  An hour of questions later, I’m not so sure I like Maggie—as she insisted I call her—as much as I thought I would. She gave me time to tell her my story without interruption—up to a point. When I wandered off-topic, she gently guided me back. When I had trouble remembering details that I’ve blocked, she picked out a certain element and asked me to expand on it until I was flooded with memories.

  She’s incredibly thorough in her questions.

  What I’m going through today is only a taste of what will happen if my case goes to trial.

  “This is a tough one, but I need to ask. What’s the worst thing Chad might say about you?”


  That’s not tough at all. “That I’m a bitch and a slut. Those two insults were pretty common. He constantly accused me of cheating on him even though he knew where I was every second of the day.” The anger I’ve held down for the past few years bubbles up and my fists tighten. Why did I put up with that for so long? I know better.

  “That’s what these guys do,” Maggie says. “Not that it’s an excuse, but did you cheat on him?”

  “Never.”

  “What’s your relationship with Deputy Hollister?”

  To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t ask sooner. “We grew up together. He’s my brother’s best friend.”

  “Any romantic history?”

  “No.”

  “Anything else Chad might say?”

  “About me? I have no idea. The cheating accusation was pretty constant.”

  “More likely he cheated on you.”

  I swallow hard. “I considered that. Sometimes I hoped he was cheating and he’d leave me, but I wouldn’t wish him on my worst enemy. Hell help the next woman who falls for his act.”

  Maggie chuckles, the first time she’s lightened up since she started the interview. “You’re going to make a good witness, Bree.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It’s a twenty-minute drive from downtown to the Empire County jail. As promised, Howard’s on the gate when I arrive and walks me to the unit where Chad’s being housed. While his family connections couldn’t get him out of jail, they did land him in a special unit designated for mentally ill patients.

  Since I think you have to be pretty fucked in the head to do what he did, I can’t say it’s a stretch.

  “It was more for his safety,” Howard explains. “Throwing around his family name the way he did when he got here put a target on him.”

  This wing of the jail is a recently-built, gymnasium-size concrete box with two stories of cells lining the walls. Tables fill the center of the box. A couple of small-screen televisions for inmates to watch are bolted to the wall.

  “Still too good for him,” I mutter.

  “Agreed.” Howard stops me before we reach Chad’s cell. “Go easy. I only have so much control over the cameras.” He points to the ceiling.

  “That’s not what I’m here for.”

  It’s the middle of the day and as long as the inmates behave, they’re allowed to roam around the unit. Chad’s in his cell reading when I step inside.

  He glances up. “Who the fuck are you?”

  I stand there waiting for recognition to kick in.

  “Shit.” He stands and backs up against the wall. “You lay a hand on me and my parents will sue the shit out of you.”

  Dark, low laughter eases out of me as I stalk farther into the cell. “Just what I figured.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re only a tough guy when you’re hitting women.”

  “My father knows—”

  “I don’t give a fuck who he knows.” I come closer until I’m right in his face. The little shit actually turns his head and whimpers. “In here you’re at a bit of a disadvantage. Seems unfair to kick the shit out of you if you can’t fight back.” I take a step back and run my gaze over his cowering form. “Although, my guess is you don’t know how to fight like a man.”

  “You touch me, and I’ll make sure you’re fired and prosecuted.”

  I laugh even harder, then stare him straight in the eye. “You think I’m worried about a job more than her?”

  “Why are you here instead of her brother?”

  “Not your concern.”

  When he’s confident he won’t be getting a fist to the face, he lifts his chin at me in defiance. “I always suspected there was more going on between you two.”

  “She’s my friend. Nothing else.”

  He points at his face where there’s a faint red scratch. “She tell you she did this to me? Huh? Cops should have arrested both of us.”

  “Christ, you’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

  “Bree needs me. Who do you think paid all her expenses through college? She loves me.” He flashes a smug smile. “Can’t get enough. She always comes back.”

  Although I hadn’t asked her directly yet, I suspected that this wasn’t the first time Chad hit her. This asshole implying she tolerated the abuse for money makes me sick. The expression on my face doesn’t change, though.

  “Not this time,” I explain slowly. “And if you’re released, you better stay the fuck away from her.”

  “That’s up to Bree.”

  “Forget her name. Forget you ever knew her.”

  “How can I forget her when she’s pressing false charges against me? Tell her to drop the charges. She’s not as sweet and innocent as you think. I have plenty of dirt that will get her kicked out of that fancy psychology program.”

  Threatening Bree? Now some force is necessary. I step closer, placing my forearm across his throat, pinning him to the wall. He sputters and chokes, claws at my arm, but I don’t even flinch and I don’t back off. “You need to listen and absorb every word of what I’m saying, Chad.” I apply more pressure. “Are you listening?”

  He can’t nod with my arm in his way, but he lets out a strangled noise I take for yes.

  “Seek professional help. Forget all about Bree and move on with your life, because I’m warning you, if you ever come near her again, I will kill you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Liam’s waiting for me with a patient smile on his handsome face when I emerge from Maggie’s office.

  After dredging up so much emotional garbage, I can’t think of anything to say on the way home, so I stare out the window, willing the tears that have threatened to fall all afternoon to go away.

  For some reason Liam’s also quiet. Both of his hands grip the steering wheel so tight, it’s in danger of snapping.

  “Did you run your errands?” I ask because I can’t stand the silence any longer.

  “Yes.” His short, clipped answer stings, so I return to staring out the window.

  “Everything go okay with Maggie?” he asks in a tight voice.

  “It was…difficult going over all those details.” I don’t tell him the worst part, that Maggie gave me the number of a therapist she wants me to contact.

  His jaw works from side to side. “I know. But you have to do it.” He smacks the steering wheel with his palm to emphasis his point.

  What the hell? “I did it, didn’t I?” I fire back.

  “Well, it’s only going to be more difficult if it goes to trial.” His condescending cop tone makes me want to flip him off, stick my tongue out, or something equally juvenile.

  “Yeah, I know. Maggie warned me,” I answer calmly instead.

  “Good,” he says, staring straight ahead.

  “Are you mad at me, Liam?”

  “What?” He glances over and takes my hand. “No. Why would you ask that?”

  “You’ve seemed angry since you picked me up.”

  “I…” He hesitates and squeezes my hand. “I hate that you have to go through all this. I wish I could make it easier or do it for you or something.”

  That I can live with. His admission removes the remaining tension between us and I relax into the seat. “You’ve already done so much for me. Thank you, Liam.”

  “I’d do anything for you, Bree.” His low hypnotic voice melts me. He glances over. “You look so pretty, let’s go out to dinner.”

  My cheeks heat up from the compliment. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

  “I switched shifts. I’m working the day shift tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” I hate disappointing him when he’s gone to the trouble of changing his schedule for me. “I’m so drained. I don’t think I can—”

  “Another time.” He glances over and gives me a half-smile. “Will you wear that dress for me?”

  “If you like it that much, you can borrow it.” I cover my mouth with my hand, but it does nothing to cover my giggles.
r />   He snorts and shakes his head. “Wiseass.”

  Unease from my “talk” with Chad follows me home. That’s the first time I’ve bent a rule since I was accepted into the Sherriff’s academy. Never choked anyone or threatened them on the job either. I fully believe law enforcement should be used to strengthen relationships within the community and protect the public in a fair, respectful way. And I’m well-aware that not all my colleagues have that view.

  I behaved in a way I ordinarily despise.

  And I felt nothing. No beat-on-my-chest moment when I left the jail. No guilt. Nothing but the grim satisfaction of checking off an item on my to-do list.

  There’s a remote chance I’ll lose my job or worse.

  I glance over at Bree and know that I’d do it again, no matter what.

  I wasn’t bluffing either. He’s dead if he comes near her.

  The interview must have brought up a lot of painful things she’d rather forget. Mom and Dad’s house would be a better place to take her than the two of us sitting around Vince’s place all night.

  “You want to stop by and see my parents?” I ask as I pull into Vince’s driveway. “They’d love for you to visit.”

  “I don’t want to drop in on your mom. That’s rude.”

  “Bree, you pretty much grew up at my house. You’re family. Trust me, she won’t mind.”

  I sense she’s still unsure. “I’ll call and check that they’re not busy or something, okay?”

  She flashes a brief hint of a smile. “Okay. Let me run in and freshen up.”

  I watch as she flies into the house, before calling my mother.

  “Of course I want to see her,” my mother says after I explain most of the situation.

  Bree’s tugging on the door and throwing herself into the passenger seat by the time I hang up.

  “All clear.” My voice comes out strained as I run my gaze over the denim shorts, T-shirt, and sneakers she changed into. How can someone look so damn sexy in sneakers?