Protecting Phoebe
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Protecting Phoebe
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
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Note from Shelli
Shelli recommends … Mari Carr
Excerpt
The slamming of her apartment door seemed to compound the slamming of the door to her heart.
Phoebe closed her eyes, willing away the despondency that churned her stomach. It was better this way. It was.
She drew in a deep breath and fell back against the pillows. With every second that passed, she visualized Craig getting farther away from her apartment.
By now he’d be in the elevator going down to the lobby. In a few minutes he’d be crossing the parking lot. Each step he took led him farther away from her. Which is exactly what she’d requested.
So why did she feel like she’d just taken ten giant steps down into the emotional dumps?
Despite the mental low, physically she felt incredible. She kicked her legs free of the sheets, unable to ignore the pleasant soreness between her legs. Her thighs had a slight ache from being extra stretched out and every part of her body tingled with life.
She traced her fingers over her stomach, reliving the sensation of Craig’s mouth on her. Heat gathered between her legs and her breathing quickened.
With a curse, she swung her legs off the bed and groaned. Maybe having sex with Craig hadn’t been the best idea. It had broken the seal on her abstinence. He’d reminded her of exactly what she was missing out on.
But more than the sex, the moments after they’d been intimate were what really gave her butterflies. How wonderful it had been to be held by a man. But not just any man. Craig. He was such a nice guy. A man who wouldn’t hurt her. Who she knew would actually go to lengths to make sure she was protected.
Protected. Shit. Her eyes widened and she rushed out of the bedroom toward her front door.
She’d forgotten all about Rick for a few moments. Forgotten all the normal steps she took to keep herself safe.
When she was just feet from the unlocked front door, it began to open.
No. Oh God, no.
With a scream, she dove toward it, trying to slam it shut before he could get inside.
He pushed back, forcing it open until she stumbled backward.
Phoebe let out a shriek and reached for the baseball bat she kept in the closet.
“Stop. Phoebe, stop.”
The bat—firmly gripped in her hands—wavered as she finally realized who was inside her apartment.
Not Rick.
Craig shut the door with a quiet click and slid the locks into place.
“Easy, girl. Are you okay?”
She nodded dumbly, her heart pounding a mile a minute in her chest. How could she have been so stupid not to lock the door after he left? She was never that careless.
She lowered the bat and returned it to the closet. Shaken by her own foolishness. “Why did you come back?”
Craig didn’t reply and she glanced up, sensing it wasn’t just because he refused to take no for an answer.
“What? What is it?”
“I think your ex figured out where you live,” he finally said quietly.
Protecting Phoebe
Chances Are, Book 3
Shelli Stevens
Published 2018 by Book Boutiques.
ISBN: 978-1-946363-80-0
Copyright © 2018, Shelli Stevens.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Book Boutiques.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is wholly coincidental. The names, characters, dialogue, and events in this book are from the author’s imagination and should not to be construed as real.
Manufactured in the USA.
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Blurb
Phoebe’s work at Second Chances, a women’s shelter, has gone a long way toward her own healing after surviving an abusive relationship in college. She’s moved on in every sense except when it comes to dating.
Everything changes when Craig visits the shelter. The hot young cop sets her pulse racing in a way that makes her consider rushing him into her bed for a casual fling. The first step: ask him out. Subtly, of course.
Craig has been attracted to Phoebe for months, so he’s more than happy for the chance to get to know her better, in bed and out. His interest goes way beyond casual, but convincing her to think long-term is going to take some time.
When it becomes clear her violent ex has come out of the woodwork, time is the one thing they don’t have…
Previously Published
(2009) Samhain (2017) Shelli Stevens
Acknowledgements
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs, Tibbs Design
Chapter 1
A thick fog clung to the San Francisco morning. It really did make a perfect backdrop to the fear residing thick in her gut. People became indistinguishable in the reduced line of sight. All kinds of evil could hide in the thick shadows.
And she was worried about one in particular.
Phoebe tightened her grip on the stack of books in her arm and increased her pace to her car.
How many times had she promised herself she’d never be afraid again? How many daily affirmations had she done to prevent the body-trembling fear from taking over?
She reached her car, her throat dry and her hands shaking. Jamming the key into the lock, she managed to wrench it open and stumble inside. Her fist slammed down on the lock and she drew in a long, shuddering breath.
Still think you’re seeing things, Phoebe? a bitter voice taunted in her head.
Her hands continued to shake as she stuck the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, screaming loudly as her foot pressed the gas pedal to the floor.
Shit.
Fumbling for the brake, she dropped it and put the Civic in reverse.
Her tires squealed as she pulled out of the parking spot. She scanned the empty lot, her pulse pounding and her tongue thick against the roof of her mouth.
A couple of rows down in the parking lot she spotted the figure of the man she’d seen earlier. Even in the dense fog, she got a good impression of his physique—tall and on the skinny side. Unfortunately, his features weren’t as clear.
She hit the gas and rounded the corner in the opposite direction, tearing her gaze from the man.
It could be anybody.
An unsteady laugh spilled from her throat and her fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Okay. Maybe she’d convinced herself it could be anybody a few weeks ago, when she’d had the first sighting at the sushi restaurant, but this was too much of a coincidence.
A short while later, she turned the car onto the highway, casting one more glance into her rearview mirror. There’s nobody there. Calm your ass down, silly.
She flipped on her stereo and willed her nerves to settle. The fear in her gut began to subside slowly. In its place began the slow simmer of anger.
* * * *
“You’re late.” Gabby greeted her the minute she walked in the door of Second Chances, the women’s shelter where they worked. Gabby’s smile faded as they walked back to their office. “What’s wrong? You look awful.�
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“Nothing’s wrong,” Phoebe muttered and strode briskly to her desk. Jeez, her friend really could read her that well.
“Bull and shit. Something is totally wrong.” Gabby followed her, folding her arms across her chest. “Seriously, Phoebe, you’re like beyond pale and you’re already the whitest chick I know.”
The urge to confess what had happened this morning flirted with the tip of her tongue. But Gabby didn’t need that kind of emotional dump. Not with everything in her own life going so right at the moment.
Gabby had been all aglow for weeks now. Ever since she’d fallen in love with her old roommate and moved back in with him. Phoebe made sure to check every day to see if a ring had popped up on her friend’s finger.
“Tell me.” Gabby sat down on the edge of her desk. “I’m not budging—or sharing the box of chocolates Justin gave me this morning—until you tell me what the heck is going on.”
Phoebe shoved a hand through her black curls and bit back a groan. Gabby knew her weakness for chocolate, but even for the promise of Ghirardelli’s, she couldn’t talk about this morning.
“Okay, since you’re obviously clamming up like a virgin on prom night, I’m going to take a wild guess.”
Phoebe looked up, waiting for her to continue. Apparently, Gabby had been holding off until they made eye contact. Her expression gentled and she sighed.
“Did you see him?”
Phoebe drew in a sharp breath, surprised again at Gabby’s perceptiveness.
“Shit.” Gabby shook her head, her expression switching from sympathy to fury. “That settles it. There’s an officer in the other room right now. He’s taking Jenny’s—the new girl who checked into the shelter last night—statement. Once he’s done, you need to talk to him.”
Phoebe glanced out the window of her office, trying to see between the cracks in the blinds in the other room. There was an officer here? Was it him?
Her stomach flipped and she scowled, cursing herself for having such a ridiculous juvenile reaction to the thought of the officer who sent her pulse pounding every time he showed up.
“Why bother? It’s not like he can do anything,” she said quietly after a moment. “I don’t have a restraining order against Rick. I never filed any charges against him in the past, so there’s no record of abuse.”
Gabby drummed her nails on the desk, nibbling her lip. “Okay, well, has Rick approached you? What’s going on?”
“Nothing yet. I don’t even know if it’s him,” Phoebe confessed. “I could just be paranoid—” yeah right “—it could be absolutely nothing.”
“One too many coincidences. I think we both know that.” Gabby shook her head. “I’m worried about you, Phoebe. And Delanie is worried about you too. Before she moved up to Washington, she made me promise I’d keep an eye on you. And I have to say, this has stalker written all over it.”
A light tap on the door had them both glancing up.
Phoebe’s throat went dry and warmth spread through parts of her body that had been cold with fear for the last hour.
It was him. Officer Craig Redmond.
His presence filled the doorframe. He was probably just under six feet, but broad-shouldered and built. His hair was short, with closely cropped black curls. His skin a soft mocha, with expressive, coffee-brown eyes that were now focused intently on her. He had great eyes.
God in heaven, the man was sexy. She swallowed hard and averted her gaze. And young. The officer was probably just barely out of college.
“Good morning, ladies.” His voice, deep and smooth, sent a shiver down her spine. “I just finished taking Ms. Leman’s statement.” He paused. “Thought I’d check in and make sure there’ve been no problems lately?”
Phoebe could feel his gaze heavy on her—as she could every other time he’d come to the office when the police were called—and her breath hitched.
She cleared her throat. “Things are pretty quiet lately—”
“Actually, Phoebe could probably use some advice from you,” Gabby interrupted. “That is, if you have a moment.”
Phoebe’s eyes rounded and her mouth gaped. She lowered her gaze to the desk and inwardly cursed. Gabby had not just said that.
“Is that so?” The officer’s tone warmed. “Something I can help you with, Ms. Jeffries?”
“Actually, she’s a Miss,” Gabby went on perkily. “She’s not married. She’s single and very much available—”
“Gabby.” Phoebe sputtered and lifted her head to glare at her friend.
“Right. You know? I’m going to put on a pot of coffee and give you two a moment to chat.” Gabby grinned and slid off Phoebe’s desk. She paused in the doorway, her whisper anything but, “Ask her about the ex-boyfriend.”
Craig Redmond stepped into the office and a moment later the door swung shut.
Phoebe’s pulse quickened and she ran her tongue over her lips. The sudden silence in the room emphasized by the heavy ticking of the clock on the wall.
“So I’m supposed to ask about your ex-boyfriend?” he finally said softly.
She winced. “Yeah, I heard.”
He gave a quiet laugh and crossed the room, pulling out Gabby’s chair and bringing it over to Phoebe’s desk.
She watched him sit down next to her, his uniform tightening across his broad shoulders, and another wave of awareness swept through her.
Too young, Phoebe. Not to mention the fact you’ve given up dating.
Despite her declaration, her body still reacted when she met his dark, sensitive gaze. What was wrong with her? For years she’d avoided developing even the smidgen of interest in a man. Why was this guy so different?
“What’s going on, Ms. Jeffries?”
“Call me Phoebe. Please.”
Ms. Jeffries made her feel about a decade older than him. Which, actually, probably wasn’t too far off base.
“Okay. Phoebe.” His full lips twitched into a slight smile. “What is the situation with your ex?”
She leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over another, drawing in a deep breath. His gaze seemed to follow the movement.
“It’s nothing really,” she muttered. “I’m probably wasting your time, Officer.”
“It’s not a problem. Really. Especially if there’s anyway I can help.” He cleared his throat. “Or the San Francisco P.D. in general.”
“Of course. Well, let’s see. Back in my last couple years of college, I dated a man…”
“How long ago was this?”
The question was perfectly normal coming from a cop, but Phoebe pursed her lips. Well, might as well put her age on the table. Get it out there.
“Seven years ago. I was twenty-two the last time I saw him and just finishing up college.” She watched his face, looking for surprise or disappointment. There was neither. Maybe she’d read him wrong, maybe there was no interest on his side.
“Okay. Go on.”
She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the reaction on Craig’s face when she told him the next bit. And, with her eyes shut, it also helped her go back to that moment in time. To those last few days with Rick.
“The two years I was with him, he was physically abusive. I was convinced that I loved him, so I wouldn’t leave him. He said we were soul mates and there was no other woman he would ever love more than me.” She grimaced, wondering how she could ever have bought such bullshit. “I was young and naïve. Told myself that what was happening was normal or that I’d just pushed him too hard the days he knocked me around…”
Images flickered behind her closed lids. Of Rick holding her in his arms, kissing her cheek in the same spot his fist had connected with moments before. He’d beg for her forgiveness, crying and confessing he didn’t know what had come over him.
“So you were together for two years?”
Officer Redmond’s gentle question prodded her from the disturbing memory.
“Yes,” she admitted huskily. “We were. And then I left him.” Or had trie
d to. “I finally managed to cut him out of my life completely, which he wasn’t thrilled about. It got to the point where I changed my number and last name. Moved.” She shrugged and opened her eyes. “After a while he seemed to get the point, and moved on. Last I heard, he’d relocated to New Jersey.”
There was a pause, before he asked, “Have you seen him at any point in the seven years?”
“No, I haven’t. I did everything in my power to make sure he couldn’t find me. And then…the last few weeks, I keep thinking I see him. Various places.”
Craig sat up straighter in the chair, his eyes narrowing. “Has he approached you? Threatened you?”
“No, he hasn’t come near me. Which makes me wonder if it’s him.”
“It sounds like you managed to start a new life,” Craig said. “Disappeared from his line of sight. How do you think he could have found you again?”
Phoebe hesitated and felt some of the blood drain from her head. “A few months ago, I received an award for the work I do here at the shelter. At the ceremony, a reporter took my picture and there was a write up in one of the smaller papers.” She paused and nibbled her lip. “I honestly didn’t even think he’d see it or even be looking for me anymore.”
Craig’s gaze softened. “You never know with some of these nuts. Your co-worker seemed to think there was a possibility he was stalking you. Is that a concern of yours?”
Her lips parted as she tried to figure out how to respond to that. “Maybe if I could be sure it was him I was seeing. But I’m not. If I’m just being paranoid…”
“Have you been paranoid like this in the last seven years? Thought you’d seen him before?”
“No, I haven’t.”
He stared at her, and the concern in his gaze surprised her. It seemed a little more personal than just an officer’s businesslike concern.
“And I realize there’s really nothing you can do.” Her laugh came out awkwardly.
“Not until he makes a move, unfortunately. Stay vigilant.” He shook his head and set something on the desk. “I’m going to give you a card with a number to call. If he approaches you or threatens you, contact us again.”