Page 47 of One Cut Deeper

“Ma’am, is there anyone who wants to hurt you?”

I can’t help the twitch of my lips.Ma’am.He makes me sound so old.

I sober quickly, though, because I definitely know someone who might want to hurt me. Charlie warned me not to let Tasker get his hands on me, because he might try to use me to get Charlie to work for them again. But do I dare give that much information to the fucking cops, considering I have no idea what that old job might entail?

Let alone his threat.I’ll kill anyone who hurts you.

If he ends up hurting Tasker to keep him away… The last thing I want is for my stupid testimony to get him thrown in jail.

“I know it’s a delicate question, but I can see the bruise on your chest.”

I look down at my chest. Charlie’s too-big shirt has gaped enough to show a partial bite mark high on my breast. Self-conscious, I tug the shirt up and fold my jacket shut. I loved showing my online friends his handiwork, but not people who wouldn’t understand. “I’m fine.”

“But ma’am, those are pretty bad. Some of the worst I’ve ever seen. I can take you into town where you’ll be safe, and you can tell me what’s going on before he gets back. Who’s hurting you?”

“It’s consensual.”

The young cop’s brows work, his eyes flickering back down to where the bruise hides as if he can’t help but stare. “You mean youwantto be hurt?”

Maybe he thinks I’m bullshitting him to keep my boyfriend from getting arrested. Or maybe he just doesn’t have a clue. We’re in the Bible Belt after all. Not too many people around here know much about alternative lifestyles. At least openly.

A few months ago, this line of questioning probably would’ve devastated me. Days, ago, even. Ithaddevastated me, at least when I first moved home from St. Paul. But I’m a new person, now. I’m stronger. And with Charlie, I’m freer than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He accepts me, fully and without reservation. That’s all I need.

“Yes. I want to be hurt. I like it, okay? My boyfriend’s not doing anything I didn’t ask him to do. He certainly wouldn’t break into his own house when he knows he trained his dog to attack anyone who threatened me. This was an attack. An invasion. He’d never try to hurt me like that.”

“Of course, of course.” Daniels still looks confused and he can’t keep his wandering gaze from my chest. Any other man I would’ve accused of staring at my rack, but his brow is furrowed. “So this is your boyfriend’s house, and he hurts you, but not likethat,whatever that means. Are you living here with him? What’s his name?”

“Charles MacNiall.”

Charlie’s even voice draws my attention immediately as he walks toward the table where we sit. He opened the front door so quietly I didn’t know he’d come in. Sheba wags her tail furiously but doesn’t leave my side. I jump up and throw myself into his arms. He clutches me hard against him. “I got here as soon as I could. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I burrow my face deeper against him, trying to get his scent. I want contact with him. Skin to skin. The sooner the better.

Wrapping his arm around me, he walks me back to the table and sits in the chair I vacated. Without hesitation, I curl up in his lap, googly eyed cop be damned.

“Now that I’m here, do you care to ask a vulnerable woman, who’s alone and scared, those same personal, inappropriate questions?”

The deputy stutters. “I’m only trying to do my job. Someone attacked her. She’s got bruises. I needed to know.”

“She gave you her answer. Next question.”

Tugging on his collar, he looks through his notes. “Is there anyone else who might want to hurt either of you?”

“Tell him about the Suburban,” Charlie orders softly.

“I’ve seen a man twice in a gold Suburban, once on the road just west of here on Christmas Eve, and yesterday in Springfield. He lied about being Charlie’s neighbor and scared me.”

“Scared you how?”

“He grabbed my arm like he meant to get me into his car, even if he had to drag me. He told me to tell Charlie about him.”

“Any idea who this man is, Mr. MacNiall?”

“I’ve not seen the man myself, but by her description, I think he goes by Tasker. I have no idea if that’s his real name or not.”

“So this is someone you know.”

“Knew,” Charlie corrects. “Nearly five years ago. I met him once or twice and didn’t care much for the way he did his job. I ended up leaving the company and starting my own side business as a result. I’m guessing they want me to come back to work for them.”

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