Cynthia Eden: Fear For Me

But Lily wasn’t moving.

He parked behind her. Took a breath. Let the anticipation build even more. Then he slid from his vehicle and headed toward her.

Lily’s windows were rolled up. Were her doors locked? He didn’t pull on the handle to find out. Not yet. He knew better than to be too eager.

“Ma’am?” He shone his flashlight into her window. “Are you having some trouble?”

She turned toward him, her eyes wide and worried. Fear was on her face.

She had a cell phone to her ear.

His back teeth locked. She needed to ditch that phone.

“Do you need some help?” he asked her, making sure his voice had just the right amount of concern. He knew she couldn’t see him clearly, not with his cap pulled low and the light aimed at her, not him. It was too dark for her to see his face.

Lily Adams didn’t like the dark. It was why she tried to avoid the late shifts at Striker’s. She would hate being out on the road all alone.

Hate it. Fear it.

“I’m fine!” Lily called out, and she didn’t roll down her window. Good, cautious girl.

He liked girls like Lily. They were the ones who followed orders so well.

“Help is coming,” she told him with a little nod.

Poor Lily. Help wouldn’t get there in time.

He deliberately angled the light so it fell on his own body. Not his face. Just his body. “Help’s right here, ma’am.”

The flashlight glinted off his badge.

His knuckles rapped lightly on the window. “Now, roll this down so we can talk.”

Lily hesitated. He saw her eyes dart to the rearview mirror. Probably trying to make out his patrol car.

He’d left his bright lights on, so she wouldn’t be able to clearly see his car.

This wasn’t his first time. He knew better than to make any mistakes.

The window slid down with a faint grinding sound.

He didn’t smile, but he sure wanted to.

“What seems to be the trouble?” he asked as he leaned toward her. With the window down, her scent wrapped around him. Strawberries. Beer.

“I don’t know, Officer. My car just stopped.” She still had her phone clutched tightly in her right hand. Was someone on the other end?

He let a worried frown pull his brows low. “Why don’t you step out of the vehicle and we’ll take a look, okay? If I can’t get it working for you, then I can always give you a ride home.”

She nodded, her full lips quivering a little. Lily was scared.

“It’s not safe for you to be alone out here,” he chastised her. “You never know what’s waiting in the dark.”

Lily put down her phone.

No one had been on the phone. Her line about help coming had been a bluff.

She reached for the door handle, then her hand froze. Lily tilted back her head. “I don’t recognize you.”

Why would she? She hadn’t seen him, just heard his voice—heard what he wanted her to hear.

“I thought I knew most of the cops in this area.”

Lily was going to make things difficult. He’d thought she would be easy prey. For the most part, she had been.

He adjusted the flashlight, making sure it fell right on her face. “Have you been drinking?” his voice snapped. “Ma’am, I smell alcohol on you. Step from the vehicle, now .”

“No! I—” She shoved open the car door and rushed out. “I work at a sports bar, Striker’s. Some beer spilled on me earlier, and I—”

He grabbed her. Shoved one hand over her mouth even as the other yanked her tightly against him. His flashlight fell to the ground with a clatter. “I know just what you’ve been doing, Lily.”

Her screams were muffled against his hand.

She tried to fight him, but Lily was small, petite. Weak. He lifted her up, carried her easily, and in seconds, he’d dumped her in his trunk.

Her cries rose from the trunk. Loud. Desperate.

It was two a.m. They were in the middle of fucking nowhere. Who did she really think would hear her screams?

He whistled as he walked back to pick up his flashlight.

Then he shut her door. Left her purse and phone behind.

When he climbed back into his car, Lily was still screaming. He wasn’t ready to enjoy her screams, not yet. He turned on the radio.

And drove away.

Photo by Nicholas Roussos, 2011

A Southern girl with a penchant for both horror movies and happy endings, USA Today best-selling author Cynthia Eden has written more than two dozen tales of paranormal romance and romantic suspense. Her books have received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly , and her novel Deadly Fear was named a RITA finalist for best romantic suspense. She currently lives in Alabama.