Vixen (Dark Protectors #11.5) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,5

safe before quitting his job.

His head pounded, and he leaned back. The pain was becoming an odd reassurance to him that he was still alive. How weird was that?

A knock sounded on his window, and he jumped, reaching for his gun. “What in the world?” Anger replaced weakness, and he shoved open his door, standing and looming over the tiny blonde. “Never sneak up on an armed man,” he said, his teeth clenched.

Tabitha huffed out a breath. “It isn’t my fault you’re sleeping in your car. Speaking of which, why are you camped outside my house?” In the dim moonlight, her eyes glowed like the deepest coal, and in her dark leggings and loose-fitting top, she looked young and cute.

Cute slayed him. Always had. “I was making sure that wacko from earlier didn’t bother you,” he admitted.

She sighed, ducking her head to stare at her bare feet. “You can’t save everyone, Evan,” she whispered.

It was the first time she’d used his given name. Apparently sitting outside her home at night and trying to protect her had granted him some sort of a closeness. “I’m not trying to save everyone.” The itch between his shoulder blades wouldn’t abate. How had the interloper known of Evan’s illness earlier? Was it becoming that obvious? “I can still help you, Rusko.”

She looked up then, way up, her expression one that caused intrigue. “What makes you think I need help?”

It was a good question. “It’s my job,” he answered, knowing it was a cop out.

She smiled. “Have you always had this desperate need to protect and defend?”

Ah. The motto on his police vehicle. He did love that Jeep. “I guess so.” He scouted the quiet street and then gestured toward her bungalow. “You’re safe tonight. Go on in and get some sleep.” Her scent of mystery and unidentifiable flowers was going to drive him crazy, so he used his best official voice. The one most younger police officers jumped to obey.

The woman didn’t so much as twitch. “I can’t talk you into leaving?”

“No.” It wasn’t like he slept much these days, anyway.

“Then why don’t you come inside, have some apple pie, and sleep on my sofa?” She clasped her hands together, looking like an innocent angel from times gone by.

Oh, he knew he had a thing for petite and fragile looking women, but this one had a strength to her that just plain and simply intrigued him. He needed to figure her out. But staying inside her house was a huge mistake, and he wouldn’t make it. His radio buzzed before he could answer her.

“Evan? We have a nine-sixteen at 2827 East Beverly Street,” Mabel said. “Again.”

Damn it. He reached for the radio. “I’m en route.” Then he nodded to Tabi. “Go inside and lock your doors. I have to go.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “What’s a nine-sixteen?”

He slid back into his seat. “It’s a domestic violence call.” He’d already been to the Baker house twice that month. Why the young bride wouldn’t leave her husband, he didn’t know. Maybe this time he could talk some sense into her.

Tabi frowned. “You’re a detective. Shouldn’t that call have gone to an officer?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but our two officers would’ve been called off by the sheriff. I won’t be.”

“Do you need help?”

He jolted. “No.” Like the petite blonde could help him. “Just keep yourself safe tonight. I’ll do a drive by later, but here’s my cell number if you need help.” He tugged a card out of his unused ashtray. “I mean it, Tabi. If you need help, call me.”

She took the card, her expression bemused. “All right. Be careful.” Then she turned and jogged back inside her house.

He sighed and started the engine, driving down the street.

“You know, you got a real hero complex, O’Connell,” Mabel crackled through the radio. “What’s the deal there?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Uh huh,” she said. “Be careful at the Bakers’ house. That moron is probably drunk again.”

“Good,” Evan said grimly. “Then I can arrest him this time.” Although, considering the idiot was the sheriff’s youngest son, the asshole wouldn’t stay in jail long. “We’ve got to clean up this town, Mabel.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” she cackled, signing off.

Yeah. He’d think of something.

Chapter 3

Evan’s eyes were scratchy and his left leg weak when he strode into the room used for the anger management class. After arresting Baker the night before, he’d parked down the street from Tabi’s house to keep watch, and once daylight had arrived, he’d spent