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When Troy did come home later that night his father and mother greeted him at the door leaving quickly with their murmured good nights and see you in the mornings. Troy found the entire incident bizarre, he half expected to have to kick his parents out. To have to physically remove the sponge and duster from his mother's hands and forcibly untie her apron.
Walking further into his house he hung his hat on the hook and glance around suspiciously wondering where Eliot and Gabriella were. "Anyone home?"
No answer.
Troy opened the closet door and jerked back at the sight of Eliot standing there wearing Troy's old Zorro costume and carrying his sword. After a moment of surprise, Troy arched his lips in a smiled and yanked out an imaginary sword and challenged him to a duel. "To the death!"
Eliot, grin in place started swinging. They fought their way into the living room, dodging boxes and making battle grunts and moans and imaginary sword-slamming noises.
"No roughhousing," Gabriella's voice called out from the kitchen.
"But Mom, were fighting to the death," Eliot whined.
"Not in the house you're not," Gabriella responded, "Go wash up for dinner, you've been digging through those boxes all day."
Troy bent down to Eliot level, "Princess Ella, has requested a truce but we will continue this fight another day?"
"We shall," Eliot said holding out his hand.
After they shook on it Eliot raced up the stairs and Troy turned towards the kitchen and found Gabriella setting the table which had been cleared from its afternoon tornado. His kitchen seemed to have been put back in order, a cleaner, shinier sense of order but the scenery was the same. Except for the beautiful woman walking back and forth barefoot through his kitchen with little to no effort finding all the things she needed.
"Hungry?" Gabriella asked placing a bowl of spaghetti in the center of the table.
"Hungry? My stomach's practically sucking on my backbone," he said remembering that he been too busy at the hospital to eat.
Gabriella nodded as she continued to set the table, her soft curves shifting under that little pink shirt and tight blue jeans.
"Ella, about earlier, I-"
"Let's just forget about it," she interrupted as she went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Would you like one?"
"I'm gonna go get out of uniform," Troy said cautiously looking around kitchen, "I'll be back."
"Alright," she said opening the Budweiser and taking a sip. "It's not like I have anywhere to go."
Gabriella was serving Eliot a plate of spaghetti when Troy came down the stairs into the kitchen again this time he was wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans. The worn kind that hugged him like a glove.
"So how was the day with my parents?" Troy asked taking a seat at the table and reaching for the bowl of spaghetti Gabriella had just put down.
"Not as horrible as I remembered," Gabriella offered quietly as she watched Eliot drizzle parmesan cheese on his spaghetti. "That's enough cheese honey."
"There's no such thing as enough cheese," Troy said taking the cheese dispenser.
"Of course not," Gabriella sighed giving Troy a sideways glance as he began piling on the cheese as well earning a few giggles from Eliot.
The meal was pleasant, the three of them talked about Jack's taxidermy hobby in more detail now that Eliot had seen some of the actual stuff animals around the house that Troy had been forced to accept over the years. They mused over Lucile's pot roast and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. About the trip Eliot and Jack made to the garage at their house to get all the boxes of old stuff that Lucile and Jack said they could keep.
By the time their plates were clean Eliot had asked to be excused so that he could go play with his new toys. This left Gabriella and Troy sitting in the kitchen sipping their beer and murmuring about old times and how things around town had stayed the same.
Gabriella let out a breath, "So you know all about my life, what about you? What have you been doing for the last 15 years?"
"Me?" Troy said a little taken aback.
"Yes you," she mocked lifting her beer, "Come on spill, any girlfriends or ex-wives hiding in your closet?"
Troy let out a laugh, "Oh," he shook his head, "No. I'm afraid my life in comparison has been pretty boring."
"Troy?"
"Well there was one girl, we were on an off for a while."
Gabriella leaned back in her chair, "What happened?"
"She wasn't my type."
Gabriella let out of huff, "So for 15 years there's only been one girl and she wasn't even your type?"
"There were two," Troy corrected.
"What's the story?" Gabriella asked settling in her chair.
Troy hesitated for a moment before glancing up at her, "She moved to Chicago."
Gabriella was quiet for a while as she stared at him. "Troy that's not funny in 15 years you've only had two relationships."
"One," Troy gave her a pointed look. "Believe it or not being in the Marines does not make you as desirable as one might think."
Gabriella pulled away a little her eyes looking down at her plate. "This is dangerous."
"What is?"
"The beer, dinner, no chaperone, I mean come on look at you," she said standing up and gathering her plate and Eliot's. "You couldn't get fat and bald, maybe even a little ugly over the years? This is all just so unfair."
Troy chuckled to himself as he watched her take the plates to the sink, "you don't look so bad yourself either."
"Oh right," Gabriella huffed over her shoulder before turning around to grab the bowl of left over pasta, "because I'm miss runner up in your mother's clothes. Not to mention the potential fear of dying really adds a little extra to life in my cheeks."
"Ella," Troy's voice softened as hand reached out to grasp her wrist on her trip back for his own plate. The instant stop of motion made her hair from her pony tail fan out over her shoulder. Her lips were full and glossy with a shimmering look to them, and she smelt of pasta sauce with an understory of musk that sent his senses into a tailspin. How he had kept himself from proving how much he wanted her last night on the couch was still a mystery to him. It had been touch and go. He could still feel the throb of longing in his body.
It didn't matter if she was dressed up or dressed down, make-up on or make-up off, hair loose or tied up. He wanted her. Even if he knew he shouldn't.
How could he endure this torture? It was bad enough listening to her having a shower. His mind was still filled with images of her luscious body all wet and soapy and slippery. His fingers had itched to push the curtain back and join her. To slide his hand over her delicious curves, to bury himself deep inside her.
"Troy," she whispered, "I'm married."
For reasons he'll never understand he couldn't stop himself from what he was about to say. "He doesn't deserve you."
Gabriella let out a breath as took two steps back and Troy stood to follow. "You don't understand."
"Explain it to me." She shouldn't have too. Today had should have been enough evidence for him to gather on his own to know that this was a horrible idea.
His hand was still holding hers, his fingers warm and strong and protective. Possessive. Something swooped and then dropped in her stomach as he slowly drew her closer to him. Her legs felt strangely unsteady, her breathing patchy, and her heart skipping a beat as she felt the magnetic pull of his tall strong presence drawing her inexorably closer.
"Do you remember what it was like to fall in love?" Gabriella said quietly "because I've been through it twice and both times I've had the rug pulled out from under my feet immediately after."
"Ella."
"I want to," she said with a raspy tone. She could smell the clean, cologne-fresh scent of him. She could see the pinpoints of his dark stubble even though he had shaved this morning. She could feel the warmth of his body. The intimate closeness of him tempting her beyond her power to resist. His muscled thighs were a mere centimeter or two from hers. Her breast were even closer to his chest. Intensifying the erotic moment.
"I want to fall to in love again but this time I don't want any regrets, or secrets or heartaches."
"Ella."
Her awareness of him grew from deep inside her body, stirring all of her dormant senses into zinging wakefulness. Her inner core flickered with a pulse of sudden insistent need. It travelled through her, making her aware of every part of her body, all the sensitive spots and erogenous zones that secretly longed for his touches and caresses.
Did he know how much she wanted him? Could he read it in her face? In her eyes? In her body? Could he feel it in the electrically charged atmosphere?
"The thing is, I don't want just anyone. Not anyone new, I just wanna be with you."
His dark blue eyes were heavy lidded as they focused on her mouth for an infinitesimal pause.
She couldn't look away if she tried. She was transfixed by the way he was poised there, as if drawing out the anticipation for as long as he could. She took another shaky little breath as his mouth came down ever so slowly towards hers…
Nerves suddenly got the better of her. What was she doing? She had son, she was mother, and she was married. Her very life was in danger, What if she reeked of old garage boxes and pasta sauce from making dinner? "I need to do the dishes."
"Later," he said, and catching her before she could slip away from him. Sliding his hands up to cup both her cheeks, he covered her mouth with his.
Troy closed his eyes as he touched down on the pillow of softness that was Gabriella's mouth. She tasted of garlic, and tomatoes, and vinaigrette with the faintest hint of Budweiser. A heady cocktail unlike anything he had tasted before. He pressed gently against the lush fullness of her lips, breathing in the bewitching scent of her, relishing the sweet softness of her mouth as it responded to his. Her lips were slightly parted and he took full advantage of it.
He entered her mouth with a smooth glide of his tongue, slowly at first, letting her taste him, feel him. Her tongue was tentative, shy, holding back from him until he deepened the kiss. Then she found her rhythm and joined in the duel with gusto.
Her arms looped around his neck as she stood up on tiptoe, pressing her gorgeous breast right into his chest. Her pelvis moved against his in an instinctive way, there nothing forward or brazen about it. She melded against him perfectly, all of her curves fitting against all his planes. His body responded to her closeness with a painful throb of primal need. Her soft murmurs of approval as he kept playing with her tongue made his need all the more fervent. Uncontrollable. It pulsed through his body like a raging tide, pounding through his veins, swelling him, extending him until he was as trigger happy as a teenager on his first date.
He slid one of his hands around the nape of her neck, the cloud of her curly hair bouncing against the back of his hand. Her sweetness was intoxicating. He couldn't get enough of her. He wanted to devour her right here and now… except they were in the middle of his kitchen with Eliot just in the other room.
"Let me worry about the dishes," he whispered gently as he pulled away and pushed a strand of hair back from her face with his thumb. "Why don't you go take a bath and I'll bring in your things from my truck?"
"You went over there today?" she said snapping out of her haze. "How is she?"
Troy let out a sigh as everything about his visit at the hospital came slamming back into him with full force. He let his hands slide down her body and rest on her hips. He should have let her go. "She's sad."
Gabriella was quiet for a moment, "She thinks it's my fault doesn't she?"
"Ella," Troy let out a breath as the mood shifted between them and he wished for the third time today that his occupation was different. "You know I can't talk about the case."
"Kelsi is my friend."
"And you're both part of an ongoing investigation. The less you know about each other the better." He said a little exasperated. "It's my job."
"Well you're job sucks," she said pulling away from him.
Troy watched her leave the kitchen his jaw clenching as he tried to control his own temper from lashing out. His hands were tied and he was damn well aware that he was playing with fire. Taylor was right. The closer he got to Gabriella the closer he flirted with losing his job. He had to get grip on what was happening before it was too late. If it wasn't already too late.
Deciding not to continue standing there like a moron he made his way to the front door grabbing his keys on the way so he could get what he needed out of the truck. He needed to focus on the case, think about where the man was hiding. Think about how he was going to set a trap to catch this asshole. As soon as he was in the drive way he unlocked the truck and reached into the backseat.
The sound of a crunch behind him made him quick to turn around. Reaching for his gun from the back his pants he pointed it in the direction of the noise. "Who's there?"
"Sorry Sheriff," Donny held up his hands. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"Donny?" Troy lowered his weapon. "What are you doing here?"
"Your father thought it would be a good idea if you guys had some outside surveillance in the area," Donny said with a small smile. "It's my pleasure to keep you safe sheriff."
Troy inwardly rolled his eyes, "Donny I don't need surveillance."
"Sheriff's orders."
"Donny, my father isn't the Sheriff anymore, I am," Troy said a little frustrated as he put his gun away.
"Right Boss, just following orders."
"Then go home," Troy groaned as he took the box from his truck.
"Why? I just walked the perimeter. You see I didn't want the perp to see me in the truck and get scared off. I want him to get brave and try something so I can catch his ass." Donny beamed excitedly.
"Well that is something we can agree on," Troy grunted as he shut his truck.
"So what's in the box boss?"
"Stuff for Elliot and Gabriella." Just as Troy turned back towards the house he seen the door slam shut. "Goddamn it!" tossing the box he took off in a mad dash for the door with Donny hot on his heels.
By the time he reached the house he noticed it was dark, "Donny he cut the power," he shouted back over his shoulder. A million thoughts ran though his mind as he approached the door his weapon drawn. "Check upstairs."
Donny made his way inside he held his the gun in his right hand, his flashlight in his left making a V with his arms as he moved through the hall leading the way inside. Troy opened the closet door reached on top for his flashlight and flicked it on crossing it over his gun arm and searching the house.
"Where are you?" he murmured to himself as he looked into the kitchen. Clear. Moving into the living room he shifted checking every corner when suddenly he heard a scuffle upstairs. Damn it. Gabriella. "Donny where are you?"
No response. Troy began his way up the stairs and once he reached the top he saw Donny lying on the floor in the hallway. He quickly ran over to him running the flashlight over him checking for injuries. "Donny?" Troy bent down a little glancing up and around careful not to be too distracted. "Hey buddy, talk to me."
He lay there motionless. Troy reached for his wrist and could feel a pulse. Relief washed over him in volumes and he moved the flashlight over him again. It was then that he notice several circular marks on his neck. Shit. The Perp had a stun gun. Donny lay there unable to move, his muscles jerking and disabled from the shock.
Troy was instantly knocked to the ground as the person ran past him and down the stairs. After fumbling for his flashlight pushing himself back up again with a curse he began running down the stairs two at a time. He heard the back door slamming shut and raced into the kitchen and out the back door. He could see the perp running in the distance.
"Stop!" he shouted. He lifted his arms aimed and shot above his head. He kept running.
Troy hurried after him. If he couldn't catch up with him, he'd reach the wood on the outskirts of the property and he would lose him. He was almost there. Too late. Troy let out another slur of curse words as he watched him disappear into the woods.
Returning to the house he ran though it and up the stairs, "Gabriella?" he called out in a panic. "Elliot?" he got to top of the stair case and ran into the bathroom finding it empty. Running across the hall he reached for his bedroom door knob. His heart hammering inside his chest. "Gabriella?! Answer me!"
He jiggled the knob and found the door locked. He looked down the hall. Donny was sitting up mumbling a string of curse words as he shifted to prop himself against the wall. He waited a few seconds and decided the he couldn't wait another minute taking three steps back he kicked the door in.
The room was quiet and he looked inside bringing up his flash light and shining it in every direction he could frantically looking for her. Until his eyes stopped and all the air came flooding back into his lungs. There behind his bed was Gabriella and Elliot huddled together shaking, her eyes filled with a terrified expression as she held on tightly to the pink glock from earlier that day. Her son protectively behind her as she pointed the gun at the doorway. At him.
"Gabriella," he said quietly, "I need you to lay that gun on the bed." He used his calmest voice although his heart was in his throat. Fear made people do stupid things with guns.
"He was here, wasn't he? He's going to kill me. Where is he now?" Her eyes were wide but her expression was now filled with more anger than fear.
"Ella," he said softly, "he got away. Did you hear the gunshot? That was me. But he got away. You don't need you gun now. Please lay it on the bed."
Gabriella let out sob as she nodded and put the gun down on the bed. "This is never going to be over is it? He's just going to keep coming for me."
"Elliot," Troy bent down with some relief as he motioned for him to come over, "Come on, let's go downstairs. I need to call the station." Elliot came to him in a run arms extended as he clung to Troy for what felt like dear life. Standing up with Elliot in his arms he motioned for Gabriella. "Come on Sweetheart," he said tenderly, "I'll make some coffee."
Troy left Elliot, Gabriella, and Donny in his living room as he took his cell phone into the kitchen and made the necessary calls. He went outside to the back of the house and flipped the power back on. He pulled the back door closed and checked the locked. It was still operational. He was on his way to the coffee pot when he noticed the white envelope in the middle of the kitchen table with Gabriella name written in large block letters. He froze.
Motion from the next room startled him and quickly grab the letter hiding it in a nearby cabinet.
"Do you need any help with coffee?" Gabriella murmured from the door way, as she ranked a hand through her untamed hair.
"No, you go sit back down. Taylor's on her way."
"I hate Taylor," Gabriella said quietly her face unreadable.
"Go sit down sweetheart."
She didn't fight him, didn't respond with some witty come back willed with the girl he'd come to know in the last few days. This girl was different. Defeated in a way and he couldn't help but feel a little bit responsible. He allowed that bastard to get inside. He let that bastard slip right past him. Not once but twice. When she was gone he pulled the envelope back out and carefully opened it.
If you think I can't get to you, think again.
There nothing that will stop me from getting to you. Nothing, bitch.
I'm looking forward to savoring the moment you breathe your last.
You won't get away from me again. We'll have our private party.
By the way, what did you think of my latest gift?
Troy read the note again, fear and anger knotting inside him. He slipped the note back into the envelope. He needed a new plan and he needed one fast.
By the time Taylor reached the house, five deputy cars and the crime scene investigation van were parked out front. She was tired and running on less and less sleep with each passing day as she tried to figure out what the hell was happening in Highland Meadows.
She joined the Sheriff and Donny one porch were already talking Danforth.
"Just tell me everything you remember about what happened." Danforth asked Donny as he jotted something down on a notepad.
"I didn't see him in the hallway, he just jumped me with a stun gun and got away," Donny shrugged with a frown.
"What did he look like?"
"I know he was wearing a ski mask, but it happened so fast I can't tell you what else." Donny let out a groan as he rubbed the back of his head, "Oh wait, he was wearing gloves."
Taylor raised a brow as she placed her hands on her hips, "So how does a perp get past an armed deputy and a sheriff into the house, over power the deputy and avoid getting shot at by Marine trained sharpshooter?" she shook her head in disgust, she wanted to hit something.
"It wasn't like that," Troy said with a frown.
"My ass," Taylor protested, "What is she doing here anyway? You're living with her now! Playing house? Have you lost your damn mind?"
"And I told you I'm not sleeping with her. I am only protecting her."
"Yeah," she huffed, "I'm sure."
"Taylor." Troy's voice was agitated.
"Your entire career has big spot light on it right now with this case and you're destroying your reputation and creditability every time I turn around and I find you in a compromising position with that woman."
"Bite me."
Everyone on the porch looked back at Troy with a stunned expression as he stood there looking at Taylor with snarl.
"Excuse me?"
"Maybe if you'd stop running your damn mouth about your nosy opinion, people wouldn't question my authority. In fact get off my stoop you're no longer needed at this crime scene."
"I beg to differ."
"My crime scene techs are dusting for fingerprints in the hallway on the second floor and back door. And thought I doubt they will find anything because the bastard wore gloves I don't want you or anyone else tramping around in their crime scene corrupting evidence and twisting it around."
Taylor's mouth fell open, "But-"
"You need to back off and leave this investigation to the investigators. We'll bring you what you need to prosecute. We're done here."
Troy turned and made his way inside leaving her behind on the stoop. He was so furious he walked blindly inside barking out orders, tired of being over written and gossiped about that he didn't even notice Gabriella who was standing by the doorway listening to everything.
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