Chapter Seven

Riser already had a plan A and a plan B. He’d try to keep it on the up and up first, get his friend Sheriff Bo Lawson to put some weight on the local judge. But if it didn’t work out that way, Riser had no problem doing things his way. “Bo will help. He’s got a lot of weight in the force, even more pull with the FBI. He can go right over your ex’s head and handle the shit lickety-split.”

He’d keep it to himself that he’d slit the fucker’s throat if that’s what it took.

Especially after Laney told him exactly why she was so afraid. Men like that didn’t deserve to walk the streets, much less in a uniform. There was a special place in hell for cops who beat their wives and children, for people who’d taken an oath to protect and serve and then used their power to do the opposite, and Riser would like nothing better than to open the door wide and kick him through it.

“I don’t know, Bo’s always seemed so…” Laney’s words trailed off, and she touched her bottom lip with her finger.

Damn, she had sexy lips. He came close to tasting them in the hospital, bastard that he was, and now that almost kiss was taking control of his mind.

Riser shifted gears and accelerated, fiddling with the radio without turning it up or down. He had to channel this restless energy moving through his muscles before he did something stupid, like reach over and grab her hand again. Thread her fingers through his. Feel her soft skin.

“I think the word you’re looking for is uptight?” He and Bo had butted heads on more than one occasion, but that was only because they were both stubborn. And they’d both been after the same chick. Not that Riser could think of why at the moment—all he could think about was the girl riding in his front seat.

“I was going to say something more along the lines of ‘strict with the law,’ but whatever. Do you really think he’ll help us? I’ve never known cops to cross each other.”

Riser heard the slight tremor in her voice. Bastard. He tightened his hands around the steering wheel, fighting to keep his rage in check. He asked softly, “I take it you’ve tested that theory?”

Her head bobbed in one jerky nod, and Riser braced himself for what he knew she was about to say.

“After the first…” Laney paused, and he could tell she was thinking of how to word it.

Riser ground out, “Don’t sugarcoat it for me. The more I know, the better I’ll be able to protect you.”

Laney sucked in a deep breath, the move making her breasts strain against the material of her T-shirt. Riser snapped his head around, focused on the empty stretch of blacktop in front of him. He had to keep his head on the mission that had found him. Protecting her and her daughter was more important than this draw he felt toward her.

“Look, I don’t want you to think I’ve got battered women’s syndrome or anything, because I don’t.”

“I’d never disrespect you like that. Ever.” Her strength and iron will in the hospital was impressive. Not many people would notice details like she did. She was smart. And damn, if she wasn’t sexy, too—the kind of sexy that didn’t know it. It was a one-two punch to his heart.

“Okay. After the first incident, I went to Mark’s partner. He was best man at our wedding; he was Lily’s godfather. And he’d barbecued burgers in my backyard.”

The thread of sadness in her voice had Riser clenching down. “Did he tell Mark you came to him for help?”

Riser silently added asshole number two to his burn list.

“No. It was worse than that. He told me… He told me that it was my duty as Mark’s wife to help him take the edge off from work, in whatever way my husband required.”

Riser’s vision tunneled, until all he could see was the narrow width of the road in front of him. “What town?”

“Riser, you can’t—”

“I’m not kidding, Laney. Where do your ex and his good-old-boy buddy work?” As soon as Riser got Laney and Lily all tucked away, nice and safe, he was going to pay a little visit to Arkansas. Screw the headlines, screw the ramifications—whatever town these two cops were patrolling was endangered by these men’s very existence. The fact that they pretended to be protectors made bile rise up his throat. Hypocrites. Soon-to-be-dead hypocrites.

This wasn’t something he was willing to settle the “right” way.

“I’m not telling you.”

Of course, she wouldn’t tell. She was too decent for that, even after her husband had tried to beat the goodness and heart right out of her. Fucking asshole.

“I thought I could talk to you about this,” she said coolly, “but I see I was wrong.”

Riser’s foot eased off the pedal, and he turned and stared at Laney with narrowed eyes. “You trying to guilt trip me?” Because it was sure as hell working. She hadn’t been looking for vengeance; she’d been looking for comfort. And he’d reacted with anger, even if it was on her behalf.

“No, Riser, I understand,” she said. “You’re a man of action. This is how you react to trouble. I should never have put my burden on your shoulders and expected you to carry it. I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious? You’re sorry?”

He didn’t believe his ears. Laney was apologizing to him for talking about the abuse her husband had put her through. Christ. “Number one, don’t ever apologize for talking to me. Number two, yes, thinking about a man hurting you in any way makes me…upset.” Riser floundered for a word that wouldn’t ignite her suspicion. Thinking about her ex putting his hands on her in violence made him fucking furious. The man had pledged to love and cherish her, and he’d wounded her—inside and out—instead. A vow breaker through and through. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted that way, and I don’t want you to stop being honest with me. I promise, I’ll listen with an open mind.”

Her mouth fell open and that had him focusing on her full lips again. They had to get out of this car. This close proximity to her was affecting his self-control. His thoughts were sure to drive him crazy. They kept tipping back and forth from putting his hands around Mark’s neck to spanning her waist with his hands and caressing her skin. Laney pulled her legs up and crossed them on his seat. With her shorts on, he could see the slender slope of her calf muscles and a peak of satiny flesh that disappeared into her shorts. He was desperate to touch her and see if she was as soft all over as she looked.

Riser reached across the console and threaded his fingers through hers. He knew he shouldn’t, but damned if he could stop himself. “You can tell me the rest, Laney. I won’t get angry.”

He half expected her to pull her fingers away. A woman who had been through what she had experienced probably didn’t want a man touching her in any way, shape, or form.

She curled her hand into his and squeezed. “I went back to him. I decided to give it one more try. I thought, stupidly, that it was just the alcohol. That Mark had been so drunk he hadn’t realized what he was doing. And it was good again for a while.”

Her hand tightened. She stared out the windshield with the expression of a war-zone survivor. “And then he had a bad day at work. And he used me to take the edge off.”

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

Riser had to wrap his hands around the steering wheel like twin vises to keep from showing his fury. He’d promised Laney he wouldn’t explode, no matter what she told him. Thank God, Riser had years of experience in the Special Forces. They’d trained him to keep his shit under control in all kinds of situations. Still, gunfire, combat, bombs, whatever—none of it compared to how he felt right now, listening to Laney’s story.

“And Lily?” She’d told him earlier that Lily was the reason she’d left. That Mark had done something to worry her about Lily’s safety. Had Mark used that beautiful little girl to take the edge off too? Riser’s vision clouded into a blood-red haze. If Laney answered yes to this question, she would seal Mark’s fate.

“No,” she said softly. “He took a step in the direction of her bedroom, and I grabbed the lamp off the table and smashed it against his head. I threw some of our things into an overnight bag, and then we were gone.”

That would have made him grin a little—she really was strong as nails, a spitfire—if he hadn’t been so furious at the man who’d hurt her. “And you’ve been in Mercy ever since?”

Laney’s nails dug into the back of his hand. “I didn’t get very far the first time. I made it to a motel about an hour away before I had to pull over and rest.”

Riser read between the lines—her husband had just beaten her; she’d needed to pull over and pass out. “He found you there?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

 “How did you get away the second time?” he ground out.

“I dosed his coffee with some old sleeping pills. This time I was prepared.”

“You were brave.” She’d taken a huge risk. If the pills hadn’t knocked him fully out, Riser had no doubt her ex would’ve made her pay.

“I was terrified, but Lily’s safety means more to me than my life. It was worth the risk.”

Laney taking any kind of risk made his insides crawl. He didn’t know why. He’d seen lots of battered women overseas, children too, and worse. There was always worse. But he’d never allowed himself to react physically or emotionally to their trauma. He’d gone on like a machine, gunning for the bad guys, barely sparing a thought about controlling collateral damage.

Yeah, he’d done it for the right reasons—protecting people weaker than himself was just what he did—he’d never felt what he felt now. Holding her hand was such an innocent thing, but it warmed his chest and made him want to do more. Not more like right now—but long term.

Riser shook his head; the blood loss was causing hysterical delusions. That guy at the bar must have cut him deeper than he’d thought. There was no denying the burning in his side had gone from about a three to a ten, and fatigue had settled on him just as quickly. Laney’s worry was apparent by her shoulders rising inch by inch up her neck ever since they’d left the hospital. Riser shut his mouth and kept his hand on the steering wheel, completely at a loss for what else he could say to comfort her.

He wasn’t the comforting type. But he couldn’t deny the protective instinct that had exploded to life at the hospital.

He didn’t care what he had to do—he wasn’t going to let Laney become another Caroline. He wouldn’t allow any harm to come to her, not if there was an ounce of blood still pumping in his veins.