Chapter Thirty-Six
With rapid-fire machine gun accuracy, pellets stung her bare skin and bounced off the back of the truck.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
“Get down!” Sam yelled and dragged her down. Jess watched as Olive, rolling slowly by in the same car as the day at the motel, grinned as she blasted pellets at them.
“That witch,” Jess yelled.
Sam pulled his gun, but Jess was faster. She was up on her feet and running toward the car, unconcerned for her own safety. If Olive took out an eye, so be it. She was out for blood and seeing red. Nothing else mattered but finally getting her hands on the freckle-faced menace.
Using the truck and then a large wheeled garbage can perched on the curb for cover, she hit the street, her Keds slapping on pavement, seconds before Olive saw her coming.
Olive squawked, unprepared for her prey to fight back. She shot wildly over her shoulder as she tried to get out of the way of her enraged pursuer. Jess had speed—and the narrow street—on her side.
“You’re toast, Olive!” Jess shouted as she raced after the junker. Held together by Bondo and duct tape, the car did not appear to have much of a punch. It coughed as Olive jammed on the gas in a futile attempt to escape.
Sam shouted swear words behind her. Jess kept going, her eyes locked on to her target as the car chugged away at a turtle’s pace. The sniper shooting at her while making her escape didn’t help.
Olive must have come to the same fight or flight conclusion. High-pitched maniacal laugher followed as she tried to get the gun down, tangling it in her seat belt.
The young woman wasn’t a genius.
Jess circled around to the side of the car and dove for the open window. Olive yelped as the top half of Jess hit her in the shoulder and pushed her sideways on the seat. Jess grabbed for a hand hold. She got a fist full of brown hair.
That’d do.
“Get off me,” Olive screamed, while simultaneously pushing down the gas pedal and flailing at Jess. Olive managed to get the gun out of the way and one hand tightly clamped around the steering wheel. The car managed a small rabbit jump forward and finally got traction.
The wreck swerved, bouncing off a curb both to the left and right. There were several parked cars along the street near the end. Olive steered in that direction while trying to shake her off like the bad guys did in big Hollywood action flicks. Jess saw her intent and decided to live to kill her another day.
With her hand still wrapped around hair, she pushed back out the window. Olive shrieked and pitched sideways, cracking her head against the frame.
Jess tucked and rolled out of the way of tires when she hit the pavement. Jumping to her feet she yelled, “I’m going to kill you!” at their fleeing sniper.
Olive shook a beefy fist out the open window. “You have to catch me first!” She paused, stuck her head out, smiled and waved. “Love you, Sam!”
Finally getting up to escape speed, she took the turn too fast at the end of the street, pitched back and forth while trying to regain control, and was gone in a puff of gray smoke. They heard the car backfire from the next block over and then silence.
The whole incident had taken seconds from start to finish. Jess panted from the effort. A smile split her face.
Well, that was fun.
“What in the hell were you thinking?” Sam joined her and looked her over for injuries. He brushed dirt off her knees. “She could have killed you.”
“She didn’t.” Jess held out a hand. A clump of brown hair weaved through her fingers. She held it out like it was a participation trophy from an elementary science fair. “Look. I took a DNA sample for evidence.”
“What do we need DNA for?” He scowled and stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “We already know who she is.”
Darn. Caught. She smile turned sheepish. “Okay, I just wanted to pull her hair. Is that so wrong?”
With a low curse, Sam spun her around and slapped dirt off her backside. He took a little longer than necessary. He was mad, but not that mad.
“What if she’d had the .22 or something bigger?” He wasn’t about to leave off the lecture. “Or she ran you over? You can’t win against a BF Goodrich rolling you beneath a couple thousand pounds of car.”
“I was in no danger, Dad,” she snapped. “She was going, what, five miles per hour and had the pellet gun out. If anyone was in danger, it was her. I almost caught her.” She bent over and shook her head. “I think I have pellets in my hair.”
As if to prove it, two dropped to the ground.
“You need to take this seriously,” he said. “She’s a lunatic. One day she won’t be shooting pellets.”
* * *
When Sam saw the car drive off with Jess’s ass sticking out the window, he’d about lost it. All he could think about was her getting flattened like a suicidal squirrel on a highway. And while he was thinking their relationship was about to end violently, she was risking that pretty little ass for a handful of hairs and a bit of revenge.
“You have to promise me you won’t do anything like that again,” he said. “Irving will kill me if you get hurt.” Yes, use Irving as his excuse. It was better than telling her his heart had stopped when he saw her go into the car. He was already halfway in love with her. He couldn’t lose her before figuring out just what he wanted from their relationship.
Hell, he couldn’t lose her—ever.
She opened her hand and the Olive hairs fluttered to the ground. “No promises.”
“Jess,” he warned. He’d take her over his knee if he had to. “You are so damn stubborn.”
Their eyes locked. She broke first. “Fine. But I want something from you.”
Everything told him he wasn’t going to like what she said, but if it kept her safe, he’d agree. “Name it.”
“I want to know why you gave up baseball.”
“Hell, no.” He spun and stalked back toward the house.
She hurried up beside him. “You said I could have something and that’s what I want.”
Jerking the door open, he brushed past Spike and Calvin who was wearing a small loin cloth and a pair of moccasins. Both man and dog had the common sense to get out of the way.
Good lord. Not only had his life gone off the rails, but it had skidded down an embankment and landed on its hood in an alligator infested swamp.
This was what happened when you let a crazy woman into your life. “Some things are better left alone, Jess.”
The bulldog in her wasn’t about to move on. She’d opened the door and walked through. “Why? Did you kill someone?”
He stopped and turned. “No, I didn’t kill anyone.”
Calvin snapped his fingers and he and the dog fled to the safety of the backyard. Smart man.
“Then why won’t you tell me?” She followed him into the living room. He dropped onto the couch. She sat on the other end and probed his face with her intuitive eyes.
There was no way she’d let this go. Why in the hell did he have to fall for a Brash PI and not someone less…complicated?
“Damnit.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. If they stayed together for more than five minutes, he’d have to tell her eventually. The longer he waited, the more she’d build it up in her mind anyway. Might as well get it over with.
“If I tell you, you have to promise to let it go.”
“I promise.”
Skeptical, he decided to let her in anyway. “I had a girlfriend in college who I’d dated for two years. She was fine with dating a star college athlete but wasn’t fine with me going off to play pro. She thought I’d fall in with groupies and cheat.”
“It happens.”
“Hold on. It gets worse.” He rubbed his eyes. “She told me she was pregnant and wouldn’t keep the baby if I left her. So I quit baseball and chose her and our child.”
Jess chewed on that for a moment. “She wasn’t pregnant.”
“No, she wasn’t. Three months later, she came clean and we broke up.” He raked his hands over his head. “I should have seen it coming.”
“You were young and you trusted her. That wasn’t your fault.” Her hand closed over his. Her eyes filled not with pity but with understanding. “Did you try to revive your career after?”
He couldn’t tell her about the pain he’d felt losing the child that never existed or the sense of betrayal that had left him raw. Or the months of drinking and losing himself in casual one-night-stands to try and kill the pain. Some things were left buried.
If this made him gun-shy about relationships, so be it.
“I was already enrolled in the police academy and my life was taking a new direction.” He kissed her knuckles. Strangely, sharing had lifted some of the burden. “I don’t regret becoming a cop. But now you know why I’m reluctant to buy into that whole white picket fence thing. It’s crap.”
* * *
Jess saw pain in his eyes and knew he’d mourned the loss of the child more than the career. But she wouldn’t press him to hash out his feelings, or to change his mind about trust and taking a chance on another relationship. He had to find his own way. However, if he ever wanted to discuss anything deeper, he knew where to find her.
Instead, she leaned in. He was very warm. “I don’t regret you becoming a cop, either. I wouldn’t have met you if you hadn’t changed careers.” Whether that would be on his top ten reasons for being happy with his chosen career or not, it was the first in her mind. In this moment, she wanted him more than anything else.
The hint of a smile tugged his mouth. “Is that so?”
“It is so.”
“Then come here and show me how much.” He tugged her to him and pushed her down on the couch. He teased her mouth with little kisses, then kissed her, all in. She met his tongue and cupped his head and made out with the big bad detective on the couch her dog had chewed up.
After, when they came up for air, his eyes were soft on hers. “You drive me nuts,” he said and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve never been challenged by a woman quite like this.”
Jess nipped his chin and teased, “Are you complaining, Officer?”
“Not a bit,” he said with a slow grin. “Now, get out of those panties.”