Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Roxbury Precinct
The blood drained entirely from Harper’s face. She sprang out of the leather armchair so fast her vision swam, the fractured ribs protesting with a sharp, blinding stab of pain.
“Noah,” she choked out, her hands flying to her mouth. “He’s alone. The neighbor’s kids are loud, but they can’t protect him. If Derek finds him there—if he realizes I moved him—he’ll tear that apartment apart!”
Gabriel didn’t blink. His demeanor shifted instantly from contemplative stillness to lethal, calculated execution.
“Marco,” Gabriel barked, his voice cutting through the panic in the room like a razor. “Get the primary team ready. Mobilize two black SUVs. We are taking a trip to Dorchester.”
“Boss, if we roll into a residential zone with a full enforcement detail, internal affairs or the local precinct will pick up the chatter,” Marco warned, stepping closer.
“I don’t care about precinct chatter,” Gabriel replied coldly, buttoning his suit jacket. “Nobody touches a child under my protection. And nobody harasses someone working inside my home.”
Harper grabbed the edge of the mahogany desk, her knuckles turning white. “Mr. Ashford, please—if you go there guns blazing, Derek will use his badge to turn it into a war zone. He’s unhinged. He’s got nothing left to lose, and he carries a service weapon everywhere he goes.”
Gabriel turned his gaze back to her, stepping close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. His presence was a solid, immovable wall against the terror threatening to crush her.
“Let me handle Detective Lawson,” Gabriel said, his voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly calm register. “You think he is a monster because he wears a badge and holds a gun in a city that looks the other way? Let me show you what a real monster looks like when he decides to protect something.”
Ten minutes later, a convoy of two matte-black Mercedes SUVs tore through the quiet, rain-slicked streets of Boston, cutting through traffic with the silent precision of a military operation. Harper sat in the backseat of the lead vehicle, wedged between Gabriel and the locked window, her hands trembling uncontrollably as she stared out at the flashing neon lights of the city blurring past.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Slowly, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold the device, she pulled it out.
It was a text message from an unknown number.
Where are you, Harper?
Her breath hitched. She recognized the cold, demanding cadence instantly. Derek.
Another message popped up immediately.
I went to the house. You thought you could run? You thought you could hide that little brat of yours and play domestic worker for rich people? I’m standing in your empty apartment right now. When I find you, I’m going to break every bone you have left.
Harper let out a stifled sob, dropping the phone onto her lap as tears finally spilled over her lashes. The terror she had fought so hard to bury over the past four days rushed back with crushing force, suffocating her.
A large, warm hand descended over hers, silencing the vibrating phone against the leather seat.
She looked up. Gabriel was watching her, his dark eyes steady and unyielding. Without a word, he picked up her phone, pressed the power button to turn off the screen, and slipped the device into his own coat pocket.
“He will never touch you again,” Gabriel said quietly, his voice carrying an absolute certainty that defied all logic. “And he will never come near your brother.”
“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” Harper whispered.
“Neither does he,” Gabriel replied softly. “Not yet.”
The SUV slowed to a halt, turning down the narrow, dimly lit alleyway behind the dilapidated apartment building in Dorchester. The rain was coming down harder now, washing over the cracked pavement and reflecting the dull orange glow of a flickering streetlamp.
May you like
Through the rain-streaked window, Harper saw it.
Parked directly in front of the apartment entrance was a standard-issue cruiser from Precinct 12. And leaning against the hood, illuminated by the flashing hazard lights, was a tall, broad-shouldered man in a rumpled police jacket—Detective Derek Lawson.
