The Bad Boy In Cuffs Read online

  “What’s your name?”

  He became still, his tiny, dirty arms wrapping around Groot. Groot tried to lick his face again. “Bobby.”

  I smiled. “Hi Bobby. I’m Ronnie. Are you here with someone? Your parents?”

  His bottom lip wobbled and he closed his eyes and pressed his face into Groot. “Daddy told me Mommy doesn’t want me anymore.”

  My skin turned cold. Clammy. A hot lump filled my throat. “Where’s your daddy?”

  He shook his head against Groot.

  “Ronnie?” Lucas said in my ear. “Did he say his name was Bobby?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, stare fixed on Bobby’s head. He was hugging Groot like he was the most important thing in his life.

  “What does he look like?”

  I frowned. “Thin. Brown hair. Maybe six or seven. Wearing a Spiderman T-shirt. I think he has freckles but it’s hard to tell. He’s very dirty.”

  “Ronnie.” My pulse thumped into overdrive at the serious tone in Lucas’s voice. “I think your new little friend may be Robert Walker. He’s been on the news for the last few days. His father snatched him last week when a divorce judge denied him visitation rights.”

  My stomach dropped. My head began to roar.

  “Bobby?” Gently—so gently—I smoothed my hand over Bobby’s back. My God, I could feel the bones of his spine. And the trembles quaking through him. “Is your last name Walker?”

  “Mommy’s last name is Walker,” he mumbled into Groot. “Daddy says my last name has to be Singer now.”

  I closed my eyes. Shit.

  “Bobby?”

  He looked up at me. Tears swam in his eyes.

  “I think your mommy would be very excited to see you.”

  A fat tear trickled down his dirt-smudged cheek. “Daddy says I’m not allowed to talk to people.”

  The hot lump in my throat turned to a hot ball of anger. “Does he know where you are?”

  Bobby shook his head. “I got hungry, so I climbed out.”

  “Out?”

  “Of the house under the ground.”

  Holy fuck. What was his father—

  “Ronnie,” Lucas said, calm but oh so serious. “Get him to the cops straight away. Get him there now. I’m on my way.”

  “Okay.” Mouth dry, I ended the call. I didn’t need to tell him where I was. I shared my phone’s location with Lucas 24/7.

  Bobby looked up at me. More tears spilled from his eyes. He hugged Groot to his chest. “I want my mommy.”

  I gave him a gentle smile and smoothed my hand over his back again. “Let’s get you to her then.”

  It took me a few seconds to find the location of the closest police station. Google told me I could walk there in less than five minutes.

  Five minutes of walking, during which Bobby’s father could find him. Find him. Try to take him away again.

  Five exposed minutes.

  It would take me almost that long to walk to where I’d parked my car. So, did I walk to my car where I’d left it away from the crowd, or did I walk with Bobby directly to the police station, on busy sidewalks, past shops and—hopefully—lots of people?

  At that point in time, I really was wishing Groot was older. Or maybe that I’d brought Francis with me as well. And Fluffy. And that I’d woken Lucas before leaving and asked him to come with me…

  My stomach rolled. I scanned the area around me. The crowd at the farmers’ market was beginning to thin out. No one was paying me and Bobby any attention.

  “Do you want to hold Groot’s leash?” I offered it to Bobby. “While I hold your hand?”

  He studied both—my hand and the leash—with a solemnity I’d never seen on a little kid, before nodding.

  His fingers wrapped around mine and he squeezed tight.

  I handed him Groot’s leash and he took it with his free hand. “If Daddy sees me,” he watched Groot bounce around at his feet, “he will hit…he will be mad.”

  I swallowed. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  And I wouldn’t. I’d learned a thing or two since Lucas had revealed everything to me. If Bobby’s father found him, tried to take him back, well, let’s just say I know how to rupture a testicle with my elbow and leave it at that.

  Leaving my purchases on the table (I needed my hands available, not holding bags), we began walking. Away from the markets, heading for the police station.

  Three blocks in and I was a jumpy mess, doing my best not to flinch at every sound, at every person we saw, at every goddamn shadow. Thank God Bobby seemed to get lost in the joy of Groot.

  By the time I saw the police station, Bobby was laughing and almost skipping. His grip on my hand didn’t lessen, however. And he stayed so close, his hip kept bumping against my leg.

  Approaching the entry door of the police station, I squeezed Bobby’s fingers a little. “We’ll call your mommy from in here, okay?”

  He nodded up at me.

  “I bet she’s going to be excited to see—”

  A man came out of nowhere. Charged at us.

  Bobby screamed.

  Groot started yapping.

  I hauled Bobby to my body, just as the man reached us. “Get away from—”

  He smashed his fist against my jaw.

  And all hell broke loose.

  Pain—white-hot pain—exploded in my face, my head. Groot growled, no sign of the friendly puppy, now an angry Doberman.

  Bobby screamed again—Daddy no! No Daddy no!—as he clung to me.

  The man pulled at him, trying to tear him away from me by his arm.

  I lashed out with my feet, holding Bobby against my body as tight as I could, my vision blurred with pain and fury, my head roaring.

  “Let him go!” Bobby’s father yelled, tugging on his son. “Let him go, bitch!”

  “Daddy, stop!” Bobby cried. Groot barked.

  I saw Bobby’s father flinch, saw him glance down, and then Groot yelped, a loud, sickening yelp.

  My dog. The bastard kicked my dog. The bastard had kicked Groot!

  “Let him go,” the vile man screamed, grabbing at Bobby again.

  I twisted, pulling Bobby out of his hand. “Let him go!” Yes, I screamed the same thing back at him.

  He punched me. Again. On the cheek.

  Black stars erupted in my vision. Sound vanished, replaced for a split second by a drill ringing.

  And then a tall man covered in tattoos slammed into Bobby’s father, driving him sideways, smashing him to the ground.

  Lucas.

  On top of him, hands around his throat.

  Lucas. Pinning him to the ground.

  Lucas.

  “Freeze!”

  Cops suddenly surrounded us. Poured from the station house. Guns leveled on Lucas and Bobby’s father. Cocked guns.

  Locked on them.

  Oh God, no.

  “Give me my son,” Bobby’s father rasped, bucking and flailing beneath Lucas. “That bitch took my—”

  Lucas reeled back and, uncaring of the guns pointed straight at him, smashed his fist into the man’s nose.

  * * * *

  They arrested Lucas.

  It took three cops to bring him down. And by bring him down, I mean two cops surrounding him, guns aimed at his chest, and one cop placing him in cuffs. Lucas didn’t put up a fight. I know why. The threat to me—that being Bobby’s father—was neutralized. With that one single punch.

  Stare locked on me, Lucas rose to his feet, stepped over the inert body, and placed his hands behind his head.

  “No,” I said. “He didn’t do anything wrong.” In my arms, Bobby cried. I had no idea where Groot was. “He didn’t do any—”

  One of the cops swung his gun towards me.

  Lucas lunged.

  “No, no!” I shouted. Were they insane? Was Lucas?

  Bobby cried louder. Clung to me tighter.

  “The guy on the ground,” I held Lucas’s flat, furious gaze, “is Robert Walker’s father. This is Rober
t Walker, the little boy who was stolen from his mom by his dad.”

  Bobby buried his face into my neck. His tears burned my skin.

  Lucas didn’t resist as the cop who’d cuffed him continued the task of arresting him. More cops swarmed the area. Two rolled Bobby’s unconscious father onto his stomach.

  I kept my stare on Lucas.

  I needed him to keep calm with me. To keep me from freaking out. The last time Lucas was at the mercy of the police force, he’d been—

  “Ma’am?” A cop was talking to me. “Ma’am, you need to come with me.”

  Bobby sobbed into the side of my neck. I held him. I wasn’t letting him go. Not yet. “Where’s my dog?”

  It probably sounded like a stupid question, given the situation—Lucas arrested, Bobby’s father being searched for identification, Bobby crying in my arms, cops and stunned people surrounding us all—but I needed to know.

  I also needed to distract Lucas as much as I could.

  Remove his finger from the metaphorical trigger.

  A couple of the cops looked around themselves.

  “Call Dr. Winchester,” Lucas said. Christ, his voice was calm. Scary calm. But I understood.

  I nodded, just as the cop who’d cuffed him and read him his rights began dragging him away.

  “Ma’am,” the cop who’d spoken to me earlier touched my shoulder. “Who is Dr. Winchester?”

  Bobby clamped his arms and legs tighter around me.

  I watched Lucas being walked through the door into the police station. My stomach clenched. How many times in his past had that very thing happened to him before?

  Lucas. In the hands of the cops again.

  “Ma’am?”

  “My dog’s veterinarian.”

  I didn’t need to look at the cop to see the shock on his face. Of course he’d be shocked. Who asks for an animal doctor during a situation like this?

  To be fair, he had no idea Lila Winchester was more than just a veterinarian.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to take the boy from you n—”

  “No!” Bobby wailed. I didn’t think it was possible, but he clung to me tighter.

  I finally tore my stare from the police station door—Lucas was inside. So was Bobby’s father—and looked at the cop talking to me. “I’m not letting Bobby go until his mom is here. And only if Bobby says I can.”

  The cop blinked.

  “Now find my dog and let me call my veterinarian in peace.”

  * * * *

  I called Lila Winchester and told her what was going on. By the time she told me—in that poised, take-no-shit voice of hers—not to worry, the cop (who looked like a baby-faced Bernie Sanders) was walking towards me with a squirming Groot in his arms.

  “I’ll try not to,” I replied, before ending the call.

  Groot saw me and wriggled out of Officer Bernie’s arms. I couldn’t help but smile. My dog was clearly okay. I took it as a good omen.

  Forty-five minutes later, sitting in the police station with Bobby asleep on my lap and Groot asleep on my foot, I watched Lucas walk out of a room to the right. Un-cuffed.

  Rubbing at his wrists, he scanned his surroundings, saw me, and strode away from the cop who had walked with him out of the room.

  As much as I wanted to leap up and throw myself into his arms and kiss him stupid, I stayed still. I didn’t want to disturb Bobby. Or Groot, for that matter.

  “Are you okay?” Lucas crouched down onto his haunches in front of me, hands on my knees. As always, a tingle of happiness and something so much more carnal shot through me at his touch.

  I nodded. “Better, now you’re out of cuffs.”

  He chuckled, the sound low and relaxed, and gave Groot a quick pat. “Lila works her magic quick, even when she’s on the other side of the country.”

  “What did she do?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t know. But I’m out without any further questions, so I’m okay with that.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Me too.”

  He gazed into my eyes for a long moment before touching my bruised cheek with gentle fingers. “How’s your face?”

  “Sore.” No point in lying. “But I’ll live. Are you allowed to go?”

  He nodded, and then looked down at Bobby. “But not until you do. Which I suspect won’t be until this little guy is ready to let you?”

  Warmth flooded through me. I loved him for so many reasons; that he understood me and the way my mind worked was up there at the top.

  Officer Bernie quietly approached, cleared his throat just as quietly, and flicked Lucas an uneasy glance. Damn, what had Lila said or done to get Lucas released so quickly?

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he looked back at me, “but Bobby’s mother has arrived.”

  My chest tightened. I’d given my statement to Officer Bernie upon entering the station. Bobby had fallen asleep in the middle of it. Even though the little boy was sleeping, I kept my word. I didn’t let him go.

  And I wouldn’t. Not until he said I could.

  “Bobby?” I said softly, giving him a little squeeze. “Bobby, your mommy is here.”

  He shifted on my lap, limbs and eyes heavy with sleep.

  “Bobby,” I said again, my focused now on the woman rushing towards us from the other side of the station’s bullpen. “Your mommy is here.”

  He looked up at me, face confused with sleep, and then, at the sound of a woman’s voice calling Bobby, his eyes grew wide and he twisted on my lap.

  “Mommy!” He threw himself off my lap. Ran to his mother, now running to him.

  A hot lump filled my throat. Just as hot as the tears stinging my eyes.

  “Okay,” I said, rising to my feet. “Let’s go.”

  I needed to get out of there. Bobby was with his mother. Now it was time for me, Lucas and Groot to go home.

  All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around the man I loved, kiss him, and ignore the rest of the world for the rest of the day.

  At my feet, Groot shook away his doggy nap. I scooped him up and, with a quick smile at the beautiful and tearful reunion happening between Bobby and his mom, took Lucas’s hand.

  At some point in time, I’m sure she and I will meet, talk, but now wasn’t that time. I just wanted to go home. Lucas clearly sensed my mood. With a silent nod, he squeezed my hand and we hurried from the bullpen.

  No one stopped us. Everyone was too busy watching Bobby and his mom.

  I saw more than one big tough cop wipe at his eyes.

  Yeah, emotions were high. So when Lucas and I stepped through the door onto the sidewalk, I wasn’t prepared for what greeted us.

  Cameras. Media cameras. And phones. Everywhere. People everywhere. Shouting question at us.

  “You found Robert Walker,” a man shoved a microphone at me, the man beside him doing the same with the camera on his shoulder, “and fought with his father. What did Andrew Singer say to you? How did you find Robert?”

  I stumbled backward. Groot began to growl. Lucas wrapped an arm around me, pulled me hard to his side and—other arm raised—shoved a path through the throng.

  More shouted questions. More cameras and phones pushed into my face. So many reporters, so many questions…

  My heart raced. Groot snarled and barked. Lucas shielded me from the crowd.

  And then we were in a car—his massive Dodge pickup—and tearing away from the curb.

  And that’s how, in saving a little boy stolen by his angry father, I became famous.

  And drew the unwanted attention of the high court judge who wanted Lucas dead.

  Chapter 2

  We arrived home in record time.

  Francis and Fluffy met us at the garage.

  Fluffy took Groot. Lucas gave Francis a quick pat on the head.

  “You okay?” Fluffy asked me.

  I smiled at the massive Marine. “Do you mean am I in any condition to get a lecture from you and Lucas about leaving this morning without you?”

&nbs
p; Fluffy nodded.

  I chuckled, slumping against Lucas. “In that case, no. I think I want a shower.”

  Fluffy frowned. His jaw bunched and his shoulders stiffened. He was angry with me.

  Which in turn made me angry. I pushed myself away from Lucas. “You know, I’m pretty damn certain Bobby Walker wouldn’t have come anywhere near me if I’d been flanked by a grumpy Marine, a guard dog and-or a scowling MMA fighter, so the pair of you can just bite me. Something amazing happened this morning, and I’m glad. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  I stomped into the house.

  Sure, Lucas had told me over and over on the way home he was glad I was safe. Sure, he’d told me I was amazing. But now I just felt like the naughty girl caught skipping Sunday School to go hang out at the mall. A ridiculous reaction, probably. In fact, I’m damn near certain I was coming down and coming down hard from the adrenaline rush of my adventures with Bobby and his bastard father.

  It didn’t matter.

  A shower. I wanted a shower. And I damn well was going to have one.

  I stripped, tossing my discarded clothes about our bedroom as I did so. Normally I’m a tidy person when it comes to clothes. Lucas is the take-it-off, toss-it-over-the-chair one in our relationship. I’m the take-it-off, put-it-away-or-in-the-laundry one. But right then, in the middle of a grump attack, I threw my clothes everywhere. Didn’t care.

  I glared at myself in the mirror above the basin for a second, and then stepped into the shower.

  The cool water streamed over my body. A shiver rippled through me. I closed my eyes and lifted my face into the stream, slowly counting to ten in my head. To be honest, I don’t know why I was so agitated. Was it just the aftermath of what had happened that morning? Or was I irritated by something else?

  Bobby and his mom…

  My stomach clenched. The absolutely fear and then joyous relief on Bobby’s mother’s face had rocked me. How must it have been, all these days her son was missing, taken from her? How terrified must she have felt?

  I’d lived through some insanity the last few weeks, and my parents knew none of it. My life had been threatened, I’d been sexually threatened, attacked, had a gun held to my held…

  Mom and Dad knew nothing about any of it. Nor did they know where I was. I’d sent them a message telling them I was staying with someone else and totally okay, but not who. That kind of confession—that I was with Lucas Pratt, a boy my father had declared “nothing but trouble”—required face-to-face engagement.