Loving A Hero

  LOVING A HERO

  By Cheryl Yeko

  Loving A Hero Copyright ©

  2018 Cheryl Yeko

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design by Covers by Ramona

  For everyone who believes in second chances

  Chapter One

  Shelly's eyes popped open, torn from a deep sleep by a loud bang. Fear sliced through her and she shot up in bed. Clutching the bedspread to her chest, she tilted her head to listen for any strange sounds in her apartment.

  What is that?

  A light rain still fell from an earlier storm, the fat drops pinging on the window as clouds slowly swirled in a dark sky.

  Her heart beat an erratic rhythm, pounding in alarm against the inside of her chest, as if she'd just finished an extra waitressing shift at Club Vortex.

  Her thoughts flashed to the anonymous gifts that began showing up a couple months back. Mostly flowers. Recently she'd received a few pieces of expensive jewelry. A gold chain. A pair of gold hoops.

  About a week ago, she'd gotten an uneasy feeling of being watched. A few days ago a large bouquet of lilies was delivered to her apartment, with a note that read, Binding Ties.

  What the hell does that even mean?

  It had scared her that some asshole knew where she lived. Scooting to the edge of the bed, she swung her legs over the side and stood, reaching for her white, fluffy bathrobe hanging on a hook near the dresser.

  Probably my imagination, she told herself.

  The tap-tapping against tile indicated otherwise as an intruder, making no attempt at stealth, moved across the hard tile floor in her kitchen.

  Shelly snatched her cell phone off the end table before darting out of the bedroom and rushing into her daughter's room, where her precious angel was sleeping soundly. As quietly as possible, she closed the door and locked it.

  Staring at the cheap wooden door, her heart raced with a painful beat as terror held her in its grasp. She fought to bring her too-rapid breathing under control.

  Her gaze searched the cramped room, hoping to find a hiding place as she called 9-1-1. But there was only a tiny closet that wouldn't hold them both. Rushing over to the bed, she knelt and gently woke her daughter. "Magpie, wake up."

  "Mama," Maggie said, reaching up to rub her eyes, "is it morning already?"

  Shelly shushed her with one finger over her lips. "Shh, honey."

  Another loud bang, followed by a muffled curse, came from across the hall.

  Maggie tugged her blanket under her chin, eyes growing wide and fearful as she stuck her thumb in her mouth. A habit Shelly had recently broken her of, not wanting the other children in her daughter’s Kindergarten class teasing her about it.

  A stab of anger shot through her, giving her strength. "Come with Mama, sweetheart. Quietly now."

  Maggie nodded, thumb still in her mouth.

  After what seemed an eternity, but was probably under a minute, the operator came on the line. "9-1-1. What is your emergency?"

  "Please," Shelly whispered so softly she was afraid the woman wouldn't understand her. "Someone's in my apartment. I have a child. 221 West Shorewood Avenue, Apartment 3B. Please. Hurry."

  Grasping her daughter's other hand, she quickly led her to the closet, taking her blanket with her, and snatching her favorite stuffed animal along the way.

  "Who am I speaking with?" the operator asked.

  "Shelly Nichols." She bit back a cry when the wind whipped against the bedroom window, startling her.

  Kneeling next to her daughter, she said quietly, "Maggie, I need you to snuggle down with Barry Bear." She hoped the light shining in under the door would be enough to keep her from being too scared.

  After tucking the soft blanket securely around Maggie’s delicate shoulders, she placed the plush bear in her arms as the operator continued speaking. "Stay where you are, Shelly. The police are on the way."

  “Maggie, you and Barry Bear need to be very quiet until Mama comes for you. All right, baby?”

  Maggie's lower lip quivered. She nodded and whispered around her thumb, "Okay, Mama."

  Tears glittered in her baby’s eyes, and Shelly forced a soothing smile to her lips. “That’s my good girl.”

  "Stay on the line with me, Shelly.” The 9-1-1 operator’s voice remained calm. “Can you tell me what's happening?"

  “I’m hiding my daughter in her bedroom closet.” She could hear the intruder moving around in her room.

  Pressing a kiss to Maggie’s soft cheek, she murmured, "Quiet now," before backing out of the closet and silently shutting the door.

  Maybe it was a random robbery, and he’d find her paltry nest egg in the top dresser drawer, under her panties and bras. Then leave.

  Shelly’s stomach clenched. She didn't believe in coincidences, and her instincts told her it was the same person who’d been leaving her those gifts.

  Dammit. I should have called Stan.

  She turned to face the door, prepared to defend her daughter’s hiding spot with her life if necessary.

  Given Stan’s line of work with a security company, she should have contacted him the second she'd discovered the flowers at her door. After the way things had ended between them, she'd opted to go to the police instead.

  A lot of good that'd done her. The young cop who'd taken her statement, recognizing her from the club, had been more interested in flirting with her and aggressively hinting around for a date, than her unwelcome attentions from a creepy stalker. At one point during the encounter, she'd been more upset by the arrogant cop.

  At the sound of heavy footsteps plodding across her carpeted hallway, a sob caught in her lungs.

  "Shelly," the operator said sharply, "tell me what’s happening."

  Her pulse skyrocketed when footsteps stopped outside the door. She tried to speak, but the only sound that came out was a panicked wheeze.

  Heart pounding, she managed to get out, "He's here. Oh my God . . ." The cell phone shook in her hand as she stared at the door.

  The doorknob jiggled, and she stepped back.

  When the operator didn't answer, she glanced down and saw the phone had shut off. The cell service in her apartment was spotty at best, and it was a common occurrence to have her calls dropped, especially in bad weather, like tonight.

  The intruder grew impatient and jerked the door hard. A low curse sounded from the other side, a male voice she didn’t recognize.

  Shelly covered her mouth with her fist as fear clogged her throat. She desperately searched for a weapon of some kind, anything she could use to protect them.

  And found nothing.

  Maybe if she remained quiet, he'd go away.

  The intruder kicked the door, rattling the frame. “Shelly, open the door. I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”

  Shelly almost rolled her eyes. Did he think she was stupid?

  Maggie whimpered from inside the closet.

  Bastard! He was scaring her child.

  Time for plan B.

  This guy wasn't going anywhere, not until he'd gotten what he'd came for. Me. She opened her mouth and screamed, hoping to alert her neighbors and scare off the intruder.

  Maggie's soft crying came from inside the closet. Footsteps pounded down the hall, away from them, then the sound of her front door hitting the wall as he ran out.

  Waiting only a second longer to make sure he wasn't coming back, she pivoted and rushed to the closet, tugging Maggie into her arms. "Shh. Mama's here now, Magpie. It's okay. The bad man's gone."

  Maggie dropped her bear, clinging tightly to Shelly's neck. "Are you sure, Mama?"

  "Yes. I'm sure." She stroked her daughter's hair, keeping her gaze locked on the doorway. As soon as her legs stopped shaking, she'd try her cell phone agai
n to see where the cops were.

  She heard her next-door neighbor, Dave, calling her name. She closed her eyes, unable to stop tears of relief from falling.

  "Shelly," Dave shouted again, followed by footsteps running down her hallway. "What happened?"

  With a deep sigh of relief, she raced to the door and unlocked it, flying into Dave's arms.

  "Hey," he said soothingly. Wearing a dark pair of plaid pajamas, Dave wrapped both her and Maggie up in a big hug. "You guys okay?"

  "What's going on?" a gruff male voice demanded.

  Shelly peered over Dave's shoulder to see his husband, Bob, watching them with a concerned look. Bare chested, he'd thrown on a pair of jeans, only half zipped. A T-shirt clutched in his hand, his large masculine frame filled her narrow hallway. The epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, Bob was every girl's dream. Too bad for them, he only had eyes for Dave, his cute, but nerdish husband. "We heard you screaming."

  "T—there was a bad man," Maggie said shakily, before stuffing her thumb into her mouth again, tears trickling down her face.

  Pulse pounding, Shelly asked, "Did you see anyone?"

  Bob's brows drew down over pale blue eyes as he finished zipping up. "What man?"

  "Someone broke into my apartment." Her voice shook so hard she barely recognized herself.

  Bob's jaw flexed. "We didn't see anyone. We heard you scream and hauled ass over here." He tugged his shirt over his head and down his broad chest.

  Dave's gentle brown eyes brushed over her and Maggie with concern. "You both okay?"

  At their caring, she blinked back fresh tears. Having lost her parents at an early age, she'd spent nearly eight agonizing years in foster care where no one gave a shit about her. Then shortly after Maggie’s birth, she’d moved here, to this little resort town in Colorado, and met Dave and Bob. They were like the big brothers Shelly never had. She cherished their friendship.

  During high school, she'd been pretty wild, sleeping around and desperate for some sort of connection. For love. Not surprisingly, she'd never found it. She did, however, find herself pregnant at the age of eighteen.

  The sperm donor had been some random guy at a party, who she'd couldn't even recall. Not her best years.

  With Maggie's pretty green eyes and pale blond hair, Shelly figured she'd taken after her father. The only features her daughter inherited from her was her slim build and big smile.

  Maggie meant everything to her, and Shelly had turned her life around for her. Celibate from the day she'd discovered she was pregnant, she did sometimes miss the touch of a man.

  "We need to call the police," Bob said with a growl.

  "I already called them." Now that her adrenaline was crashing, she felt weak, her body slumping.

  “Okay,” Bob said, “stay here. I’m just going to give the place a quick check.”

  "Here." Dave plucked Maggie from her arms. "Let me hold the munchkin for you."

  Loving her 'Uncle Dave,' Maggie snuggled against his chest, sucking furiously on her thumb as her eyes drooped with sleep. Shelly figured she'd be out in the next five minutes.

  Watching Dave hold her daughter eased some of her tension. The two men watched out for her and Maggie like a pair of mother hens, always worrying that between her waitressing job and her nursing classes, she worked too hard. Bob especially hated the skimpy outfits Shelly had to wear at the club, along with what he called her feel-free-to-pinch-my-ass shoes.

  They were also concerned Maggie spent too much time at daycare. Which she did. Being a single parent, Shelly was the sole income and had no choice. She needed the extra cash to pay her tuition, or she'd end up with a crushing student debt upon graduation.

  Six more months and she hoped to get a job that paid enough to provide her daughter with a better life. In the meantime, her job at Club Vortex paid the bills.

  The sound of sirens approaching brought her some relief, until she remembered the cop from a couple nights earlier, and her stomach sank. Not up to dealing with him again.

  Bob was back in less than two minutes, giving them the 'all clear.' Dave blew out a relieved sigh and reached for his husband's hand as they all moved to the living room.

  Shelly's heart warmed at the obvious love they shared, wondering if she'd ever find that kind of love. Her thoughts flew immediately to Stan and her mouth tightened.

  No. Not him.

  Fun and sexy, Stan was a true southern gentleman. She'd been contemplating sleeping with him, until they’d had a minor fight and she’d stumbled across him out with another woman. Not wanting to be just another notch on his belt, she'd moved on.

  Albeit with a slightly broken heart.

  No doubt he was hot and as charming as hell, always treating her like a lady, even when she’d dressed like a tramp at work. As much as she was attracted to him, she’d learned he wasn't a one-woman type of guy. And she was definitely a one-man relationship kind of gal.

  Having been cheated out of love most of her life, when she gave her heart to a man she wanted to be his everything.

  His world.

  Nothing else would do.

  Bob leveled her with a determined stare. "I think you should reconsider moving in with us, Shelly. We have more than enough room and a bedroom big enough for the both of you."

  More tension drained away, and she fought back a smile. They'd been trying to get her to move in with them for the last month, ever since she'd mentioned the unwanted gifts. Even though they only lived down the hall, they’d expressed deep concerns over her and Maggie's safety.

  Her lease was currently month-to-month, so it was possible, yet she hadn't wanted to impose.

  After what happened tonight, she was tempted.

  As if reading her thoughts, Dave grinned at her. "C'mon. We need a third player for cribbage."

  She laughed softly. "I'll think about it."

  Dave stepped over to pull her in for a side hug, so as not to disturb her sleepy daughter, still in his arms. "Don't think too long, baby girl."

  Bob chuckled, but there was little humor in his tone. "If you won't do it for yourself, then do it for us. Dave needs his beauty rest and he stays up worrying about you more than you know."

  Warmth filled her at their concern. "I will. Promise."

  Flashing lights shone outside the living room window as the police pulled in front of her apartment. Shelly walked over to peer out the window, cringing when she spotted the same jerk cop get out of one of the two squad cars. Making a snap decision, she turned and went into the kitchen and picked the phone up off its cradle. Stan might not be her dream man, but he was honorable, and he cared about her in his own way.

  Even if she moved in with Dave and Bob, she'd still have a stalker to deal with, which could potentially put her friends in danger. She couldn't allow that, nor could she be stupid and leave her daughter vulnerable to getting hurt.

  That was the only reason she was contacting him, she assured herself, ignoring the niggling voice in the back of her mind calling her a liar. She frowned. The security company he worked for was well known and highly respected. If anyone could find out who this person was, Stan could.

  His phone number still fresh in her mind, she punched it in, hoping he'd pick-up. His sexy voice came on the line, with just a hint of southern drawl. "Hello."

  "Stan," Shelly said, listening as Bob let the police into her apartment. "I need your help."

  Chapter Two

  Stan, I need your help. Those words had been echoing in Stan's head for the last three hours. All the time it'd taken him to pack a bag and head out to the tiny mountain resort area outside of Boulder, Colorado, where Shelly lived.

  Not as good as Stan, I need you. He'd see what he could do about fixing that. Those were the words he wanted to hear coming from her beautiful mouth. A mouth he'd sorely missed and wanted to feel pressed to his again something fierce. First, he had to gain back her trust.

  Dumbass. It'd taken him months to get her to go out with him. They'd hit it
off big time and had been nearly inseparable after that. Then he'd let his jealousy get the better of him and blown it with one stupid move.

  When she'd called him, he clearly heard the fear in her voice, and he didn't like it. Not one damn bit. She didn't have a chance to tell him what was wrong, before the sound of activity came across the line. Only saying that the cops were there, and she had to go.

  The cops! What the hell?

  His jaw flexed. The fierce wave of protectiveness that'd surged through him had yet to diminish, and he knew it wouldn't. Not until he could see for himself that she was safe and unharmed. Then he was going to find out what the hell was going on.

  It was early morning by the time he finally pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. The sun's rays were slowly creeping into the dawn sky, shining on the damp asphalt from the rainstorm that'd passed through the area.

  He jumped from the car, landing in a big puddle. "Shit," he muttered, ignoring his wet socks as he bounded up the stairs, two at a time. His finger hit the buzzer to be let in before his feet were even planted on the last step. A brisk breeze flowed over him, and he rubbed his hands together to ward off the chill. The forecaster had stated more rain was headed this way.

  He glanced up and down the empty street. It'd probably be another hour before folks started stirring.

  Shelly’s melodic voice came over the speaker. "Yes."

  "Darlin’, it's Stan."

  "Um," she faltered, then buzzed him in. "Come on up. Apartment 3B."

  The endearment had thrown her. Too bad. She was his, even if she wouldn't admit it right now. It was up to him to convince her.

  Stan had never been at her place, having always met her at the club. That was the way she'd wanted it. Memories of Shelly poured into that sexy outfit and those hot-pink fuck-me shoes had his heart racing.

  She'd outshone every other woman there, and he'd been instantly smitten.

  At first, she'd rebuffed him, stating she didn't date customers. He'd been persistent, but not in a stalkerish kinda way. Biding his time, he'd slowly courted her until one day she'd rolled her eyes in mock exasperation and agreed to one date, which had stretched into over a dozen.