Safe from Harm (Protect & Serve #2)(38)

She must’ve thought the reason he’d put the brakes on during their make-out session after Chris’s death was because he didn’t care enough about her to sleep with her when the truth was the exact opposite. Even though he’d been completely shit-faced, he would’ve had enough presence of mind to not ruin his shot with Elle by sleeping with her when he was wasted.

“Elle!” he called. “Elle, wait! I didn’t mean—”

The slamming front door was the only response he received.

He heaved a sigh. “Way to go, genius. Gonna need a crowbar to get your fucking foot outta your mouth this time around.”

A moment later, his cell phone rang. To his surprise, it was Elle. “Elle,” he said before she could speak, “when I said that—”

“Come outside,” she interrupted, her tone even, serious.

He pulled open the front door and his stomach immediately sank. Spray-painted in white across her windshield was the word “WHORE.”

Elle fixed him with a look so forlorn it broke his heart, but then she gestured toward his house. He came out onto the porch and turned around to see “DIE PIG” painted on his door. He disconnected the line and dialed his brother.

“Hey, Tommy.” He seethed, anger making him grip his phone with white knuckles. “That promise you wanted me to make about not going after Monroe, cutting off his dick, and shoving it down his throat? Yeah, not sure I’m gonna be able to keep that one.”





Chapter 11


“And?”

“I did what you told me to, sir,” Jeb’s youngest son, Brian, told him, his eyes gleaming with a mission accomplished. His first. He was only thirteen, so he was green and inexperienced, not like his older brothers. But he’d be one hell of a soldier for the cause when he was a little older.

Monroe nodded. “Good. Good. It’s a little risky tagging in daylight, but it makes a stronger point than sneaking around in the darkness like a coward.”

“He knows we’re not afraid of them,” Brian said with a triumphant grin.

Jeb ruffled the boy’s hair, smiling down at him. “That’s right, Son. That’s right. It’s important to immediately establish dominance. If he knows we’re the ones in control, he’ll realize he’s powerless. And being powerless makes a man afraid.”

Brian nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You sure no one saw you?” he asked. “Someone shows up here looking for you, you know there’ll be hell to pay.”

Brian nodded again, more vehemently this time. “I didn’t see anybody at all. And I did her car first, so nobody’d see it right away from the street.”

Jeb frowned. “Her car? She was there?”

Brian glanced toward his brother Jeremy, as if asking permission to continue.

“She was parked in his driveway,” Jeremy supplied. “I thought we might as well send her a message while we were there.”

Jeb nodded his approval. “Glad to see you taking a little initiative. Finally.”

Jeremy huffed and all but spat, “Thank you, sir.”

Jeb eyed his sons, not liking Jeremy’s attitude of late. He was eighteen, a man. His mother wanted to coddle him, keep him from fighting the cause as his older brothers had done. But Jeb had a legacy to maintain. He needed lieutenants in his army for freedom. And who better to count on than his own family?

It was time perhaps to initiate him into something more than petty vandalism. And he had just the job in mind.

*

Elle stood at a distance from Gabe, her arms wrapped around her torso in spite of the summer heat. She was chilled down to her marrow. It was bad enough to see her car vandalized, but the death threat on Gabe’s door affected her even worse.

“You okay, baby girl?”

Elle dragged her gaze from the threat against Gabe and turned her attention to her aunt. Charlotte’s auburn brows were drawn together in a concerned frown that made her look every bit of her sixty years. The stress of the situation was taking its toll on more than just Gabe and Elle. Their families were suffering, worried about their safety and well-being. But maybe that was the point.

“I’ll be okay,” Elle assured her, forcing a tentative smile. “It’s just paint.”

“This time,” Charlotte fumed. “Did you get a look at who did it?”

Elle shook her head, wishing she’d stayed inside a little longer, enjoyed the warmth of Gabe’s arms, the heat of his kiss, for a few moments more instead of storming out. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so cold now.

The sound of a car pulling up brought both of them around to see Mac Dawson getting out of his Tahoe and striding toward his son. But Charlotte was already moving to intercept him. If Elle hadn’t been so shaken by the events of that morning, she would’ve been amused to see her aunt going toe-to-toe with the sheriff, his imposing figure towering over hers but wearing an expression that looked a little intimidated by the fierce tilt of her chin.

“Douglas MacArthur Dawson,” Charlotte said, hands on her hips, “what the hell is going on?”

“Well, Charlotte,” he drawled, “that’s what I’m here to find out.”

She wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you dare ‘Well, Charlotte’ me. It’s the Monroes, and you damn well know it. I want that crazy son of a bitch arrested and behind bars where he can’t hurt anyone else.”