Slenderman Read online

  “While you were chatting up the hooker on Main, I checked in with the DA’s office.”

  “Must be nice to have a cousin working in the DA’s office—”

  “Whatever, just,” she waved to the store. “Let’s get this chore over with, so you can drop me off at the hospital. Then Rhys and I can go home. Maybe have sex before we both crash.”

  “Jesus, Jo. I don’t need to know about that stuff.” Sullivan grumped, falling into step beside her.

  Exhaustion dragged at her. After an eighteen-hour shift, she dared anyone not to be tired. But seeing the thank you in her partner’s brown gaze was enough to give Jo a boost.

  The bell above the door released a ding when Sullivan opened it. He motioned for her to go first and she made her shuffling zombie impression. Mouthing cofffeeee instead of brainnnssss.

  He chuckled. “No more zombie cases. I won’t be long, I just need to pick up cough syrup and soup for Arabelle, since that’s all she’s able to keep down.”

  “I should restock too. Rian used up our supply last week. Coffee first.” The icy air smacked her in the face and helped revive her long enough to stumble to the coffee bar tucked into the far corner of the store.

  “Hey Jo, Sullivan.” Ned greeted as they passed by the counter. The elderly man and his wife had owned the shop longer than Jo had been a cop.

  “Hey, Ned. Surprised to see you here. Thought you and your wife had turned this place over to a manager.”

  “Yeah, had to fire him last week for skimming.” White hair that looked like cotton candy wafted about as he shook his head. “It’s a shame you can’t trust anybody these days.”

  “Might have a cousin or a friend that could help you out, Ned. I’ll give my mom a call later,” Jo said as she stopped in front of the counter.

  “Really? I’d sure appreciate that. Running this place puts food on the table, but I’m ready to enjoy retirement. I want to pass this place on but not to a swindler who’s just gonna take it.”

  Tapping the Formica covered counter, Jo tipped her chin. “Let me make a few calls after I get some sleep.”

  He waved her away, and she wandered back to the cat food, picked up the usual bag for her cat Schizo, and headed towards the pharmacy section when she heard the bell attached to the door ding.

  Nudging Sullivan, she pointed to the cherry cough syrup and drops that Arabelle preferred, when a gruff voice yelled, “Give me all the money!”

  Sullivan sighed and put his selection in his basket and set the basket on the floor before pulling his Glock. Following suit, Jo set her stuff down as well and drew her gun.

  “Peek-a-boo?” Sullivan asked, crouching next to the shelves.

  “Fine,” she ground out between clenched teeth. Dangit. All she wanted was to meet Rhys after his shift at the ER, make love to her man, and sleep in his arms. Now this asshat had messed up her carefully laid plans.

  Turning, she made her way to the end of the aisle and headed toward the opposite end of the store. After grabbing a soda from the refrigerated section, she tucked her gun against her leg and worked to paste on an innocent expression. “Ned, you’re out of—”

  The barrel of a gun pointed in her direction, and she forced herself to gasp instead of snarl.

  “Down on the ground!” The man in the ski mask shouted. Hands shaking, eyes bouncing around the building. In that second, she knew he was on something.

  Dropping to the ground, she grinned up at the robber. “Ever heard of peek-a-boo?”

  “Ned! Down now!” Sullivan shouted from the other side, pulling the robber’s attention.

  The gunman panicked and shot while turning towards her partner. She could not remember if Sullivan still had on his vest. With the man focused wholly on her partner, she left the soda on the ground and ran the small distance between her and the asshat. Before he could swing his weapon back around, she used the butt of her gun and smashed in the side of his face. She followed it up with a hard kick to his wrist, then a knee to his nose as he fell.

  “You broke my nose.”

  Jo growled, “I give about as much of a shit over your nose as you did when you broke the law.”

  “You gotta add a quarter to the curse jar, Jo,” Sullivan said dusting his pants off as he joined her where she grasped the subject’s wrists.

  “Sullivan, I’m gonna punch you. Quit yammering and cuff him.”

  “Where’re your cuffs?”

  “On the pimp from earlier. I forgot to get them back.”

  “Amateur,” he teased, bending over and cuffing the guy.

  It was a rookie mistake. But Jo narrowed her eyes at partner. “I will hurt you.”

  “Puh-lease, my daughter would cry,” he retorted yanking the guy off the floor. “Crap, we’ve gotta take him to the ER.”

  Seeing the blood soaking the mask, Jo sighed. “We’re going there anyway so we can call in a fresh set of rookies on the way to meet us. Get him in the car and I’ll pay for our stuff. Ned, we’ll need you to come in later and give your statement.”

  The older man grinned. “Okay. And whatever you need is on the house tonight.”

  “I appreciate that Ned, but we’re not allowed otherwise Sullivan will have to arrest me and I’m just not in the mood. Not to mention we’re fresh out of handcuffs.”

  Ned chuckled and went to get their baskets while Jo leaned heavily on the counter. It was then she noticed the small drips of blood and cursed. The thump of a body hitting the floor made her rush toward the pharmacy aisle while calling the paramedics on her cell.

  Chapter 2

  Rhysian ‘Rhys’ Harrison joined the other residents in the meeting before he began his rotation. Just a few more months of this and he’d move from the ER residency to a residency with the practice he anticipated joining. He wanted to specialize in pediatrics. So while his friends had become other types of doctors, one an OBGYN and the other a GP, Rhys would round their group out with pediatrics. It had been the plan as soon as he had met William and David in college. However, after the wreck that took his parents, Rhys had become responsible for his brother Rian, and he had put aside his dream.

  Then he’d met the force that was Josephine Rayburn, and she’d changed his life. Both of their lives. Her family stepped in to help with Rian and Jo encouraged Rhys to finish his dream of becoming a doctor. Now his ER residency was drawing to a close, and then he could finally have a normal schedule again.

  Hours later, he checked the clock hanging above the door and bit back a sigh of relief. Almost time for Jo to get here and they could go home.

  But first, he needed to finish up with this patient and get his notes filed. Exasperated, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Yes, he wanted to be in pediatrics. Yes, he loved kids. However, he did not like belligerent parents trying to tell him his own damned job.

  “Ma’am, for the fifth and last time. Your son has a cold. A cold is a virus, not an infection. We don’t have medicines for colds. Your best bet is vitamin C, rest, and throat lozenges from the drugstore.”

  “Are you sure it’s not the flu?” she asked.

  The boy’s eyes widened with panic. “The flu? Like the bad one where people die?”

  “No, he doesn’t have the flu. He has a cold.” Rhys turned to the five-year-old. “Know why you don’t have the flu?” He waited for the kid to shake his head before he answered, “Because right here in my pages it says you’ve had your flu shot. And the bad flu has specific symptoms. You’re not showing signs of that.”

  Finally, the woman and her son left. As he walked back to the ER nurses’ station to meet up with his residency group and clock out, he passed several signs stating in various colors and fonts ‘A cold is a virus. There is no medicine to treat the common cold.’ One even listed items that helped the patient rest comfortably at hom
e.

  Just as he entered the emergency room where he’d started his rotation, the love of his life strode through the electronic doors. Her brown hair was in its usual twist and her slender form was draped all in black. The only colors were the badge clipped to her hip and her gorgeous blue eyes. It was the argument that made Rhys look for Jo’s partner, Sullivan.

  “I wouldn’t have tackled the pimp if he wasn’t sneaking up on you with a knife. I told you he was nearby, and we should’ve asked the other hooker, but you never listen.” Her expression was foreboding as if she were reaching the end of her patience. Not that his prickly detective had much patience. “And I sure as heck wasn’t standing by while he stabbed you. Even if you deserved it for ignoring me.”

  As she faced forward, her crystal-colored blue eyes landed on him, and the frown on her mouth slid into a smile.

  “Well hello, doctor,” she said. “I think I’m feverish. Maybe you should check me.”

  He stifled a chuckle and shook his head. Her gait went from predatory to a slow saunter as she drew closer to him. Rhys loved it. Loved how those light blue eyes heated just for him. Most found it disconcerting to look into the orbs, but he found them enchanting.

  A throat cleared and Jo’s eyes widened and then narrowed as they landed on someone behind Rhys. Half turning, he sighed. He didn’t like working with this doctor, the man was annoying with how he’d run at the mouth.

  “Tony.” Jo crossed her arms. Her boot tapped on the linoleum.

  How the . . . it took him a few seconds to remember the one date she’d gone on with a doctor long before she’d met Rhys.

  “Josephine,” Dr. Tony Carmichael smiled. “How’re you doing?”

  “Better than the guy I punched earlier.” She pointed toward Sullivan and Rhys stifled a chuckle. He’d missed the handcuffed man Sullivan was dragging in his wake. “He’s bleeding all over his shirt now that I ripped his mask off and put it into evidence. So if you could patch him up so we can hand him off to some rookies we have coming in, I’d really appreciate it.”

  Dr. Carmichael’s eyes widened and he gulped. “Um, Nurse Meyers, can you take this gentleman into a bay?”

  A statuesque woman with light brown hair stepped around the counter. She was Rhys’s favorite nurse. Harsh when needed and a pile of goo for all the kids.

  Jo smiled at the woman. “Hi Nancy.”

  It was then Rhys remembered Nurse Meyers was married to a lieutenant helping Jo and Sullivan transition to their new position.

  “Detective Rayburn,” Nurse Meyers returned Jo’s smile. “Or should I say Lieutenant?”

  “Not yet, but soon.”

  A throat clearing made them all jump and turn to Dr. Carmichael.

  “Sorry, Doctor. I’ll show them to an empty bay.” Nurse Meyers headed to the back.

  “Thanks, Nancy.” Sullivan’s brown gaze met the doctor’s. “We also need a panel of drug tests run on the guy.”

  Dr. Carmichael pointed after the nurse’s retreating form. “Explain to Nurse Meyers what you need, and she’ll handle it.”

  With that, he herded the residents back through the doors, but Jo hurried forward and pressed a kiss to Rhys’s lips.

  “Just a tide over, hon.” She smiled, turned and followed Sullivan and the suspect down the hall.

  Rhys couldn’t take his eyes off her sexy swaying hips as she morphed from sultry to all business again.

  Dr. Carmichael urged the residents down the opposite corridor, but when they filed into the room, he placed a staying hand on Rhys’s arm.

  Facing the man, he arched a brow. Jo told him it made him look imperious and cool. Like a badass librarian who turned her on. Rian called her nuts, because he said it made Rhys look like he was calculating the torque he would use to rip someone’s head off. As that was the typical reaction, it was no surprise when Dr. Carmichael took a careful step back and dropped his hand.

  “So, uh . . . do you like ménages?” The doctor asked quietly, his dark brown eyes bounced around the bustling corridor.

  “Excuse me?” Rhys had heard about the date from hell the night he’d asked Jo out on a date. Looking back, he had trouble believing her, but now he saw she had not been exaggerating.

  “Well, she said she likes it with two guys, I was—”

  “First, you are my employer, and I refuse to answer that question. Second, you better get any thoughts about my future wife out of your head, right now. And third, you need to tell your mother to teach you some manners or I will.” Rhys spun on his heel and joined the other residents. He’d be mentioning this to Jo as soon as they got in the car. All his alarms went on alert. This man was still fixated on her after almost two years.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dawn had yet to break when Rhys walked out of the hospital. Finally free. He was counting down the seconds until he would work day shift again.

  His sluggish brain did not register anyone else in the parking lot until a piercing whistle broke the quiet. Grinning, he turned expecting to see his fiancée. Instead, there were three men. All were clad in jeans and plaid shirts; one in red, two in blue, and bright green ball caps on their bushy heads with some logo Rhys couldn’t quite pick out in the dim light.

  “Well lookie here, boys, one of them fags finally come out to play.”

  Put on alert, adrenaline pushed the exhaustion from his body. His heart pumped hard in his chest as he moved closer to the three lumberjacks. Rhys didn’t care what someone did in the privacy of their home, he cared that these three were intent on hurting the person.

  His younger brother had been bullied for years, since a drunk driver hit him while he was riding his bike home from a friend’s house. Rian had been in a coma for months and when he’d finally woke, he’d had irreparable brain damage. On the outside, his brother seemed normal, healthy. It wasn’t until someone talked with him then they noticed he had the mind of a teenager. Unfortunately, it made Rian a target when they were in public.

  “Whoever you have over there, let them go, and I won’t report you,” Rhys called out, speeding up when the other two behemoths rounded the back of the truck.

  “Oh, we ain’t got no one over here yet. We been waiting on you,” red shirt stated.

  Him? Rhys stopped.

  “We heard what that doc said about the ménage, and we don’t like having your sort treatin’ our people.”

  What the hell? The ménage? It dawned on him the idiots must have listened in when Carmichael had talked to Rhys. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he subtly looked around for the guard. The man wasn’t at his usual post which meant he was walking some of the nurses to their cars. Figured.

  A shuffle jerked his attention back on the men. The aggression and hatred painted on the faces of the three men made Rhys step away from the cars. He needed space to move.

  “Now, iffn you run, Burt there is gonna go chasin’ ya, and you might fall off the side of the deck by accident.”

  He shook his head, he didn’t need to run. These three stooges needed to be taught a lesson. The first lesson: don’t judge a nerd by his glasses.

  The speaker, the one that seemed in charge, lunged at him. Ducking under the punch, Rhys fisted the man’s shirt and flipped him. The giant landed on his back, his head smacking into the concrete, dazing him. A kick to the temple knocked him out.

  Unfortunately, the two blue shirts weren’t standing around waiting their turn. One took a swing and as Rhys dodged, the other man’s momentum carried him directly into his friend’s fist.

  A quick duck and hop and Rhys gained a bit of room. His adversaries split up. Knowing he would be in trouble if either got behind him, he focused on the one to the right, taking him down with a kick to the knee and two punches to the jaw.

  The snick of a blade made ice run in Rhys’s veins. Turning, h
e expected a switchblade or hunting knife. Instead, he found a pocket knife and almost laughed. It could still cause damage but not as much as the other options. Then the man smirked, and Rhys knew he’d missed something.

  From his periphery, he spotted the blue shirt still prone on the ground as well as the red shirt. It was Dr. Carmichael screaming “Rhys, watch out behind you.”

  That clued him. He’d missed a guy. He couldn’t turn or the knife would be in his back. But every instinct in him screamed to turn around and fight. Finally, the last blue shirt lunged. Rhys dodged to the side, grabbed the man’s hand, and popped the thumb out of joint. The knife clattered across the concrete.

  “This is the police. Drop the tire iron now! And get on your knees,” Jo commanded.

  Rhys almost slumped in relief. Jo wouldn’t let anything happen to him. With her here, he was bulletproof. She would kill anyone who threatened him, and he’d do the same for her.

  He shivered when the silence stretched until she snarled. “I won’t tell you again, drop the damned tire iron.”

  Rhys couldn’t turn around, frozen to the spot as he waited to feel the slam of metal to the back of his head. Instead, he heard the heavy clang as the tire iron dropped to the parking deck’s concrete floor.

  “Hands behind your head and you better take a knee. If you even twitch, I swear on my mother’s life I will pull this trigger.”

  She was terrified based on the pure ice in her tone. “Rhys, you okay?”

  With his hands out to the sides, Rhys slowly spun to face the love of his life. Fire blazed in the husky blue depths. “You son of a bitch, you cut his lip!”

  “Don’t do it, Rayburn,” Sullivan’s deep baritone barreled into the volatile tableau. “You hit him, you’ll have to take him in and get him admitted. And you’ll be filling out paperwork for the foreseeable future.”

  “But I like Rhys’s taste, and with a busted lip I’m gonna taste blood.”