Unfinished: A Small Town, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Suspense (Amber Ridge Book 6), page 7
She cried out, the shock rendering her completely still as a deep, raspy voice growled into her ear. She barely heard it above the blood roaring between her ears.
“Leave. No one wants you here.”
Then her head was yanked back by her hair, and her face slammed into the concrete wall.
CHAPTER 9
Loud thuds tugged Bonnie from her sleep. Her eyes scrunched and pain cut through her face.
Ouch.
She touched her temple and flinched.
Jesus Christ. It hadn’t been a nightmare. Someone had threatened her last night. No. Not just threatened, they’d assaulted her.
She took a moment to breathe through the nausea in her belly. Nausea and fear and panic all tangled together. And maybe a bit of embarrassment. But she wasn’t sure why she felt embarrassed. She shouldn’t.
Another bang sounded, this one louder. She frowned, finally registering that someone was at her door.
Then it hit her. Noah and Indie were here.
Oh God, was her temple as bad today as it was last night? Because last night it had looked like she’d been in a fight.
She was about to reach for her phone to text Noah a lie about not being home when a voice sounded.
“Bonnie? Are you there?”
Shit. Not Noah. Zane.
With everything that had happened last night, she’d forgotten to cancel their morning. She scrunched her nose. And her phone was in the kitchen.
Great.
Quickly, she threw off the sheets and crept out of bed. Her steps were slow and measured. Silent. Well, silent until she hit the creaky floorboard in the hall.
Her stomach dropped.
“Bonnie? What’s going on?”
He knew she was here now. She had to open it, right?
When she reached the door, she took one deep breath before tugging it open. She didn’t even think about the fact that she only wore an oversized shirt and panties. Hell, she didn’t even have a bra on.
But Zane didn’t seem to notice any of that. All he looked at was her face. His eyes narrowed and a darkness she’d never seen slipped over his features.
Not just darkness—pure rage.
“Who did that?”
The tone of his voice almost made her step back. Or maybe she did, because he stepped forward.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
Another narrowing of his eyes.
How bad did she look? By Zane’s expression, pretty bad.
“Do you want a coffee? I really need coffee.” She turned, not waiting to see if he followed. But the click of the door closing followed by his footsteps told her he did.
She grabbed two mugs from her cupboard before starting her pod machine.
“Bonnie. Turn around.”
She stilled, eyes closing for a second before she worked up the courage to face him.
Zane was close. So close she couldn’t move without touching him. He boxed her into the corner of her kitchen.
He reached up and grazed a thumb over her temple. “Tell me what happened so I can kill the person responsible.”
All the fine hairs on her neck stood on end. Because the way he said it…she believed him. “I got to our apartment building last night and someone shoved me into the wall beside the door. They told me to leave. That, um, no one wants me here.”
Suddenly, and completely unexpectedly, tears gathered in her eyes. Maybe because she hadn’t cried last night. Not after she’d been assaulted. Not after she’d stumbled up the stairs and into her apartment. Not even when she’d placed an ice pack on her aching head.
Zane cursed and tugged her into his chest. And suddenly his strength, his warmth, the safety of his arms—they were the only things that kept her upright. The only things that kept her from completely losing herself.
She wasn’t sure how long she cried into his chest, but the tears refused to stop. They fell hard and fast, and she felt like she was splitting wide open.
Another knock came at the door, and Bonnie gasped before pulling away. “Oh no. That will be my brother and sister.”
“Do they know what happened?”
She shook her head. “No. And it won’t be pretty.” But then, nothing about this was pretty or easy or felt in the slightest way okay.
“Go. Tell them,” Zane said quietly.
He was right. Noah would find out one way or another. It just wasn’t the best way for her to see Indie for the first time in years.
She crossed over to the door and pulled it open. The first person she saw was Indie, and for a fraction of a second, she almost made Bonnie forget. About her attacker and the bruise on her face.
God, her older sister looked different. Not in a bad way. She had a small, rounded pregnant belly, but her green eyes were exactly the same.
“Hi,” Bonnie said quietly.
Indie’s mouth opened, her gaze on Bonnie’s temple.
“What the hell?” Noah shouted. Then his attention shifted to something behind her, and for a split second there was suspicion on his face.
She touched his arm. “Zane’s here to help.”
“What the hell’s going on, Bonnie?” he growled. “Why are you crying with a bruised temple?”
She stepped aside and both her siblings stepped inside her apartment. Suddenly the room felt far too full and the air too heavy.
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Someone attacked me last night.”
Indie gasped while Noah’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m not sure. I didn’t see them. It was a man, that’s all I know. They also threatened me and told me to leave town.”
Indie touched her shoulder. It was the first time her sister had touched her in years. The feel of her hand was soft and familiar, and she wanted to tug her sister into her chest.
“Did you call Jesse?” she asked softly.
“I called the station last night.” Her stomach got a sick feeling at the memory. “A deputy answered. At first he seemed concerned, but then I told him my name and…”
“And what?” Zane asked, voice low.
“He said that because I didn’t see my attacker there was nothing he could do. Then he hung up.”
“The fuck?” Noah yelled.
Zane scowled. “Who the hell did you speak to?”
“I didn’t get his name. He wouldn’t even make a report.”
Indie’s hand went to the small of Bonnie’s back as she looked at the guys. “Noah and Zane, call Jesse. I’m going to help Bonnie change.”
Bonnie led her into the bedroom and Indie closed the door. When Indie turned, there were tears in her eyes. “Hey, Bon-Bon. What a sucky first meeting.”
“But you’re here.”
“So are you.”
Without another word, Indie closed that small distance between them and pulled Bonnie into her arms. And Bonnie just breathed her sister in. A woman she’d grown up with. A woman she hadn’t seen in thirteen years.
God, she’d missed her. Her smell. Her voice. Her everything.
Zane leaned against the far wall of the small living room, arms crossed as he watched the town sheriff talk to Bonnie. She told him about the spineless prick who’d attacked her from behind last night. Who’d threatened her. Hurt her.
If Zane had been there, that man wouldn’t be walking right now. Hell, he wouldn’t be breathing.
It was taking everything in Zane to remain exactly where he was and not go out and find that Dean kid’s father. Because this had to be him. He’d already confronted her twice. And that was twice that Zane knew about—there could be more times that Bonnie hadn’t shared.
“You didn’t recognize his voice?” Jesse asked from his position crouched in front of her.
Bonnie shook her head, her sister sitting on one side of her, her brother standing on the other. “No, but I was in shock and there was a buzzing between my ears, and he growled the words really low. Maybe I did know him. It’s all a blur. I’m sorry.” She dropped her head into her hands.
Her sister rubbed her back.
“It’s not your fault,” Jesse assured her. “The guy attacked you like that to hide his identity. Do you have any idea who it could be?”
Bonnie scoffed. “It could be anyone. Half the town hates me.”
“That’s not true,” Noah said.
She tilted her head at him. “It is. The Whites have spent the last thirteen years convincing everyone that their son’s death is my fault. Anytime I go anywhere, people point at me. Talk about me. Sometimes people come over and say awful things.”
“Who?” Noah growled.
“Everyone.”
“What about the dad?” Zane cut in, speaking for the first time since Jesse and his deputy had shown up.
Jesse looked up at him before turning back to Bonnie. “Has Carlos done something?”
Bonnie swallowed, a few seconds of silence passing before she took a breath. “He approached me at The Tea House. Noah was with me and Zane was at the counter. He wasn’t happy I was here.”
“Then outside my gym,” Zane added. “He grabbed you. Towered over you and scared you.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed. “When?”
“Last week,” Zane answered.
Noah cursed and turned back to Bonnie. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“If I reported every incident, every time someone said or did something, I’d be calling every day. Sometimes multiple times a day.”
“Then call every day,” Jesse said, steel in his eyes.
“I called last night. That didn’t do anything.”
The muscles in the sheriff’s forearms flexed, and when he spoke there was an edge to his voice. “Tell me about the call.”
Bonnie lifted her shoulder. “There’s not much to tell. When I got up to my apartment, I called the station. A deputy answered. I told him what happened and he seemed to care. Then I told him my name.”
What the fuck was wrong with this town? Zane was going to murder them. All of them.
Jesse turned to his deputy. “Who was on last night?”
“Symes was on the phone.”
“Drew Symes?” Bonnie asked.
Jesse looked back at Bonnie. “You know him?”
She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “He was friends with Dean.”
Jesse leaned forward. “I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen again, Bonnie. Okay? If you call the station, you will get help. Or just call me directly.”
She nodded, fresh tears filling her eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just…it’s been so hard.” She scrubbed her eyes. “It was probably naive of me to think I could just walk back into this town and things would be okay.”
Indie touched her shoulder. “Bonnie.”
She looked at her sister.
“This isn’t the entire town,” Indie said gently. “Maybe it feels like it is right now because a couple of jerks are being really loud. But that’s all it is, a couple of people. The good ones and your family, we’re all glad you’re here. It’s where you’re meant to be.”
New tears filled Bonnie’s eyes, and she leaned her head onto her sister’s shoulder.
Jesse and Noah started talking about safety. About Bonnie getting a car and not walking places alone.
Zane couldn’t drag his gaze from Bonnie, the same damn thing repeating in his head—that he wanted to burn every fucker who’d hurt her to the ground.
CHAPTER 10
It was too dark. And the silence… She’d never understood people who described silence as loud, but right now, she got it. It filled her ears, making her heart beat faster and a prickle run over the back of her neck.
It was stupid. This was her apartment. And a couple of nights ago, she’d been fine. But that was before someone had attacked her. Assaulted her.
She’d had the entire day off work today, but there were always people with her. Noah. Indie. Jesse. Now she was alone, and she felt it.
She rolled to her other side, gaze catching on the clock beside her bed. One a.m. She’d been lying here, staring into the darkness for three hours, and hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep. Not a single second.
Come on, Bonnie, you have work tomorrow. You need sleep.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but the guy on her back suddenly felt like he was there again. The breath against her cheek.
Her eyes flashed open, pulse picking up speed.
Maybe she couldn’t sleep because her attacker knew where she lived. And this building wasn’t old, but it also wasn’t that hard to access. People forgot to lock the downstairs door all the time. Hell, that was how Noah and Indie had gotten in today. And even if the door was locked, residents let random people in and out a lot.
She’d brought it up to the super before, but he was lazy and didn’t care in the slightest.
Did her attacker know which apartment she lived in?
She shot up.
Sleep was not happening. At least, not right now.
On the way to the kitchen to make hot cocoa, she stopped in the bathroom to pee. She was about to leave when her gaze caught on the mirror. Air stuttered out of her at the bruise on her temple.
With fingers that weren’t quite steady, she touched the purple bruising and flinched. Someone hated her so much that they’d resorted to physical assault.
It made her want to run. Hide. Maybe even disappear. Because that was her default when things got hard.
But she couldn’t do that. This was her home. This was where her family lived. And she wasn’t willing to lose it all a second time.
Dropping her hand, she stepped back and turned, heading into the kitchen where she grabbed a saucepan from the cupboard.
The only good part of today was that she’d gotten to see Indie again. They hadn’t spoken about anything serious, like her leaving or their parents’ passing. In fact, Indie and Noah had been really good at keeping all conversation light and fluffy, which had made everything a bit easier.
Zane hadn’t stayed long after Jesse and his deputy had left, but he’d messaged throughout the day, checking in. And there’d been this feeling inside her, like maybe he left because he couldn’t hold the rage inside him.
But that was silly. They hadn’t even known each other for that long.
She was pouring milk into the saucepan when a scratching noise sounded from the living room balcony door.
She spun, the milk carton hitting the edge of the counter and falling from her fingers, spilling all over the floor. She didn’t so much as look at it. Her gaze was on her closed blinds.
She was on the fourth floor. No one would be able to get up to her balcony…right?
Right.
She turned to grab a cloth for the spilled milk when she heard scraping noises, this time louder.
She spun again, slipping on the spilled milk before hitting the floor, hard.
Bonnie barely stayed there for a second before she was on her feet and racing to the door.
Not caring that she was covered in milk or that it was ridiculously late, she ran straight down the hall to apartment forty-three and banged on Zane’s door.
Loud thuds had Zane shifting from fast asleep to wide awake in under a second. He shot up, immediately opening the second drawer in his bedside table and lifting the false bottom.
When he held the Glock in his grasp, he climbed out of bed, not caring that he only wore briefs. He didn’t even stop to flick on a light. It was after one in the fucking morning. He shouldn’t have any visitors.
His steps were fast but silent as he moved down the hall to the door. Keeping his body positioned against the wall, he leaned over and looked through the peephole.
The fuck?
He tugged the door open. “Bonnie, what’s wrong?”
Just like this morning, she only wore an oversized T-shirt, but now it was wet. And did she smell like milk?
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’m sorry! I know it’s late. But I couldn’t sleep and then I heard scratching against my balcony door and I spilled milk and slipped in it and—”
“You heard scratching against your balcony door?”
“Twice. And it might be nothing—it’s probably nothing—but after last night it just…” She scrubbed her face. “It freaked me out.”
“Come in.”
When she looked up, there was a hint of tears in her eyes. “Really?”
He reached out and set a hand on the small of her back before leading her inside and locking the door after him. Then he led her straight down the hall to the bathroom off his bedroom. “Wait here.” He grabbed a T-shirt from the bedroom. “Shower. Change. I’ll go check your apartment.”
She swallowed, relief darkening her hazel eyes. “Thank you.”
He waited to hear the click on the bathroom door before pulling on jeans and a shirt. It was only then that he lifted the Glock again and headed to her apartment. Even though it might be nothing…it also might not be.
Her apartment door was ajar. He tapped it open, keeping his back to the wall as he glanced around. The hall and kitchen lights were on.
He started in her bedroom, checking the window behind the closed curtains. Nothing. And nothing in the room either. Next he searched the bathroom, then the living room.
Every curtain he pulled back showed the dark night and nothing else…until he reached her balcony door.
There was a small tree in a ceramic pot, maybe four feet tall, and every time the wind blew, its branches scratched against the glass.
That’s what she’d heard. Even though it was nothing to worry about, he wasn’t surprised she’d been scared, not after the events of the night before.
After tidying the kitchen, including the milk on the floor, he found her phone in her bedroom and her apartment key on the hall table, using the latter to lock up before heading back to his apartment.
He expected to find Bonnie still in his bathroom when he got back. She wasn’t. She sat on his couch, hair wet, legs tucked beneath her.
His throat fucking dried at the sight of her in his shirt. It was just a plain white shirt, and it drowned her. But for some goddamn reason it made his hands itch to touch her. And some deep, primal part of him felt like he’d just claimed her.
