Saved by the Lieutenant (Winter Rescue)

9. Amanda

9

AMANDA

“Amy,” Jake calls and I turn from my laptop screen to look at him. God, he looks so beautiful, even dressed in a thick winter jacket and snow boots. The man could make wearing a paper bag look sexy as hell. “I need to get some supplies,” he says as his jaw locks and he glances at the low stack of wood. “It won't take me long, lock the door behind me and don't let anyone in.”

My heart races at his words. He's stuck by my side every day since I've been here. Hell, before Peter dropped me off here, Jake had stocked the cabin with everything we'd need. We're good on food and water, the only thing we're low on is fire wood. As there's a blizzard incoming any moment, we both know that we'll need the wood to get through the chill. “I'll come with you,” I tell him and place my laptop down onto the coffee table. I rise to my feet. I'm not feeling very comfortable with being alone. I know that I'm safe here, especially with Jake, but knowing that Callum could turn up at any moment has me on edge.

Jake's eyes soften as he steps toward me. “Baby,” he says low, his words soft and filled with love. He's no longer holding back, he's showing me just how much he loves me. He kisses me and holds me all the time, and I love it. It brings me back to a happier time and I pray that once this situation is over, that things between us won't change. “You're safer here, especially with the blizzard coming soon. I won't be long, just make sure that you lock up behind me.”

My heart stutters. God, I hate the thought of him being out there alone, anything could happen to him. “Where do you need to go?”

He grins. “I have enough wood to keep us through at least a dozen winters. The wood is stacked up in the shed, it's not a long walk, but I'll need to make a few trips back and forth. I won't be long.”

Damn, he always manages to make me feel better. Always says the right thing to calm me down. “Okay, but I'd like to help.” I would feel better if we stuck together.

He hauls me into his arms, holding me tight. “I know you would and you're helping by staying put. I need you here, right where I know you are. It's snowing outside, Amy, which means that it's cold. I want you inside where it's warm.”

I roll my eyes at his protective tone. “Okay, but if you freeze your toes off, don't blame me.”

A grin creeps along his lips, and he lowers his mouth against mine. The kiss is soft and sweet, but it's still filled with passion. “Enough with the working,” he says. “You've worked your ass off for this case, you were the one that realized there was a killer on the loose, you're the one that got this case attention, Amy. You've uncovered the killer, and the police are one step closer to finding the asshole. There's nothing more you can do now.”

There's a lot more that I could do. Mrs. Dorrit will need to be laid to rest and with no family, I want to ensure that she has the perfect send off. I'll pay and organize everything. The woman meant a lot to me. She was a person that I could talk to when I was at my lowest. She never made me feel as though my pain and thoughts were insignificant, in fact, she listened with a keen ear and always gave me sage advice. Her pearls of wisdom were and will always be something that I cherish. I just hate that she was caught in the crossfire of Callum wanting to find me. I'll always feel guilty for her death, but I know that it wasn't my fault, it was Callum's, and her death is on him.

“You're plotting,” Jake says with a laugh. “I love that look, plot in here where it's warm and safe, okay?”

I nod, pressing my head against his chest, his arms still tight around my body, there's no better feeling than being in his arms. “Go,” I tell him. “The sooner you go, the quicker you do it, the quicker you'll be back.” And the less I'll worry, I think, not wanting to voice that out loud.

He presses a kiss to my forehead and steps back. My stomach twists as he heads toward the door. I have a sickening feeling in the pit of my gut that something is going to happen. I'm probably worried about him and what's going to happen, but I can't help it. I finally have him back, I don't want to lose him.

He shuts the cabin door behind him, and I quickly rush to lock it. My hands shake as I engage the lock along with the chain on the door. I really wish that Peter was here, it would give me peace of mind knowing that Jake wasn't alone, but with the shit show of Callum being the killer, the police force is working overtime trying to find out everything they can about the man. They're not the only ones. Once I recovered from the shock and betrayal of finding out that a man that I have trusted for years is a cold-blooded killer, a man that wants to kill me, I started to look into his past. He grew up in Philly, but he spent time as a beat cop in Pittsburg before he moved up the ladder to Harrisburg before coming back to Philly. I checked the victim’s records and all of them were either arrested in Philly, Pittsburg, or Harrisburg. That's where Callum would’ve met them, his name is also on all but Monica's arrest records and I've yet to uncover how they crossed paths. But I have no doubt that I will find out. I'll not stop searching until I do.

The two women that left the police force after making a complaint about him have come forward and this time have spoken about the abuse that they suffered at Callum's hands and the abuse of power that he used. He hurt both women while they were on duty and threatened to kill them if they continued with their complaints. Both women had been scared of what would happen if they did continue with their complaints, so they left the force.

I feel sick just thinking about how close I was to this man, how much I trusted him when the truth of the matter is, he's an abusive maniac that only cares about himself. My mind wanders to his wife, she's been married to him for close to twenty years. Does she know about what he's done? Would you know that your husband is a rapist and a murderer? Were there any signs at all? I can't help but think back over our interactions, wondering if I missed anything at all. But I can't pinpoint anything.

I'm sad and devastated that a man I trusted, that so many people trusted, was actually so evil and disgusting. I hate that his two colleagues were threatened and hurt by him and were forced to leave a job they'd worked their asses off for. My heart aches for the women that have lost their lives to this man, including Mrs. Dorrit. Callum had fooled a lot of people, and I suspect there are some that still believe in his innocence, despite all the evidence that they have against him, which includes him killing Mrs. Dorrit. People like Callum are charmers, they're fun and they're able to blend into a crowd. They get along with everyone, or so it seems, but deep down they're sad little men that prey on weaker people and hurt them to fill some need they have.

I lie down on the sofa, my head pounding, and I know that it's from my lack of sleep, not to mention the stress. I close my eyes, hoping that sleep will help ease my headache and praying that Jake will be back soon.

I wake up shivering, my gaze moving to the fire. The embers are almost out. Damn. I should’ve packed it before sleeping. Thankfully the pain in my head has gone. I stumble up from the sofa and move toward the fire, using the poker, I stab around in the ashes, hoping for some sparks so that I can place another log or two to help catch alight. I breathe a sigh of relief when I poke at the fire, that it does indeed spark. I throw on two smaller logs and grin when I see the flames rise. The fire burns away at the moss that's covering parts of the log.

Footsteps sound behind me and my heart races. Jake's back. “Honey, did you finish?” I ask loudly. “Do you need help?”

My questions are met with silence, and I spin on my heel, wondering why Jake's ignoring me. My breath catches, my body trembles, and my heart sinks. It's not Jake, God, I wish it were, but it's not. I stare wide eyed at Callum, he's not wearing a jacket, instead, he's in jeans and a gray sweater, one that's covered in blood. His face is red no doubt from the cold, and his eyes are wide and manic.

He stands in the doorway, his gaze focused solely on me. It’s then that I notice that he’s got a bloody knife in his hands, one that’s covered in fresh blood.

My mind races, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing. “What are you doing here?” I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. Callum doesn't respond, his gaze locked on mine, sending a wave of unease through me. Panic begins to rise in my chest. “Where’s Jake?”

“I had no choice,” he mutters, his words barely coherent. The fire crackles behind me, causing me to jump. “You gave me no other choice,” he snarls. “You made me do this.”

I blink, trying to fight off the tears that are threatening to fall. “Do what?” I ask, praying that he’s not hurt Jake, but the bloodied knife in his hands is telling me otherwise.

“The old lady, that asshole that tried to stop me from getting to you. If you had just died that night in the parking lot at the newspaper, none of this would have happened.”

My mind spins as I try to process the chaos unfolding before me. Callum's confession sends a chill down my spine, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass. Panic sets in as I realize the gravity of the situation. Jake’s gone. The tears that I’ve tried my hardest to keep at bay fall. God, he’s gone.

“Why?” I ask, needing to know why he’s done this. It makes no sense. He was free, he could’ve gotten away with it all. But he chose to come after me.

“They deserved what they got,” he snarls, his words filled with judgment. “Those women weren’t good. Not one of them were good girls.”

“They made mistakes,” I breathe, horrified by his justification. “They were young, and you killed them.”

He takes a step toward me, his eyes narrowed and filled with rage. “You judge me?” he growls. “You dare to judge me? The woman that helps guilty men and women get free from jail.” His lips twist in disgust. “You’re the reason that my friends have been fired, why so many good men are without a job.”

I take a step back, my eyes never leaving Callum's that are filled with so much rage and darkness. “They did do wrong, they mishandled cases, and they let evidence slip through. They made mistakes, and they paid for it. How did you manage to escape getting fired?” My voice comes out stronger this time, it's just hit me that he was also one of the men that fucked up in the last case I wrote about. It's all making sense now. Just how many men does this monster have on his side. “You let those men take the blame, didn't you?”

His grin is sinister, and it answers my question. “You were always too intuitive, always the one that dug deeper than anyone else. I bet you're kicking yourself that you didn't dig deeper on that last case?” he taunts.

He's right, I should have. I shouldn't have left it as it was, I should’ve kept looking, kept digging.

“What do you want?” I ask, trying my hardest to keep the fear out of my voice.

Callum's lips pull into a snarl, his hands tremble around the knife as he takes a menacing step forward. “Isn't it obvious?” he goads. “I want you dead. I want to shove this knife into your chest and watch as your blood seeps from your body, all the while I'm strangling the life from you.”

I swallow hard at his words, horrified that he'd be so casual about what he wants to do to me. I can't help but take a step back, my hand tightly gripping the poker still in my grasp. Callum's eyes flicker towards it and a twisted smile crosses his face. Without a word, he lunges towards me, his hands reaching out to grab me. Adrenaline surges through my veins as I swing the poker towards him, the metal connecting with his shoulder with a sickening thud. He stumbles back, the pain evident on his face, but it doesn't deter him. With every ounce of strength left in him, he advances towards me again, his eyes filled with a combination of anger and desperation.

I back away, trying to put some distance between us. I won't go down without a fight. I'll do whatever it takes to fight him off.

With a snarl, he rushes towards me again, as he does, my fingers tighten around the cool metal of the poker. I lift it and bring it down hard on his skull, using every ounce of strength that I have left. The impact is bone-jarring, the pain of the blow shoots through my arm, I cry out, unable to hold it any longer and drop it. Thankfully, the hit was enough for Callum to stop in his pursuit of me and crumble to the floor.

I move away from him and get closer to the back door, giving me the advantage of escaping if he even stirs. I glance over at Callum and see that he’s lying motionless on the floor, a deep gash on his forehead. I should feel guilty for hurting him, but I don’t.

The sound of the back door being thrown open startles me, and I let out a high-pitched shriek in fear. But my body immediately relaxes when I see the figure stumbling into the cabin. It's Jake. He's alive. Thank God, he's alive.

“Jake,” I cry as I rush toward him, my words rough and hoarse.

He wraps me in his arms and holds me tight. “Christ baby,” he growls. “I thought I’d lost you.”

I shake my head, my entire body shaking now that the adrenalin is crashing. “Never,” I promise fiercely. “Are you okay?” I ask, running my hands over his body, checking for wounds.

“I’m fine,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fucker came at me from behind, managed to knick my arm, but when I fought back, he pistol whipped me. Knocked me out cold.”

“He has a gun?” I whisper horrified.

“I did,” Callum laughs from behind me. “Not anymore, but that won’t stop me.”

I spin on my heel and see that he’s moving toward me, his knife back in his hands and that sadistic look on his face.

Jake releases me and moves with purpose toward Callum, clenching his fists as he positions himself in front of me. I watch in disbelief as the two men face off, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Callum smirks, confident that he’s going to get the best of Jake, while the man I love has his fist clenched so tight that his knuckles are white.

Without warning, Callum lunges forward, his blade glistening, slick with blood. Jake dodges at the last second, swinging his fist toward Callum’s face. It connects with a satisfying thud against Callum's jaw, causing him to stumble back with a curse.

But Callum is quick to recover, his eyes blazing with fury as he lunges again. Jake barely dodges this time, the knife grazing his cheek as he retaliates with another swing of his fists, once again, aiming for Callum’s face. Callum staggers backward, blood trickling from his lips.

With a roar of anger, Callum lunges once more, Jake dodges to the side, narrowly avoiding the bloodied blade aimed for his chest. He follows it up with another punch, this time to his temple and it sends Callum sprawling to the ground, his knife clattering out of hands.

My heart beats frantically and my mouth goes dry as Jake heads to the kitchen and comes back with a length of rope. In a matter of minutes, he has Callum bound and immobilized. I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that he won't be able to attack us again.

Jake moves toward me, pulling me into his arms. “It’s over baby,” he tells me, his words heavy and he’s breathing hard.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice still trembling.

He nods, his eyes on Callum. “I’m sure, Amy, he won’t be able to hurt you again.”

All the emotions that I have felt over the past week or so come tumbling out of me. My breathing comes in short gasps, and I collapse to the ground, unable to keep the emotion in any longer. Tears stream down my face as gut-wrenching sobs rack my body.

God, it’s truly all over.

Jake’s arms tighten around me and I burrow my face into his chest as my sobs continue to wrack my body.

“It's okay, Amy,” he whispers, stroking my back with a gentle, reassuring hand. “It’s all over, and everything is okay.”

I nod, even though my vision is blurred with tears. “I thought you were dead,” I choke out between sobs.

Jake's arms tighten around me. “I’m right here, baby, I’m good, I’m right here.”

I cling to him, my fingers clutching his shirt, needing to keep him in my grasp.

“Jake? Amanda?” I hear Peter shouting.

“It’s over now, baby,” Jake whispers. “It’s all over. We’re going to finally get to where we were supposed to be.”

I nod against his chest, so much has changed in the past week, but I know that Jake means what he says. He loves me, and I love him.

“Come on baby,” he says softly. “Let’s get out of here.” He carries me to the door and out into the crisp night air.

I'm still shivering from the adrenaline, but also from the sheer magnitude of what just happened. The killer has finally been caught and I’m free to return home with Jake.

As we step out onto the porch, I notice that it's snowing heavily. The snowflakes cover us within seconds, but Jake doesn’t care, he carries me out to Peter’s car and places me into the backseat.

“My colleagues are on their way,” Peter says, concern etched on his face. “While we wait, I’m going to need statements.”

Jake clasps my hand in his and nods. “Then we’re getting Amy to the hospital to be checked over.”

“I don’t need to, he didn’t hurt me” I say honestly. “But Jake does,” I say roughly, hating that Callum hurt him.

Peter shares a look with Jake, both of them turn to me, their expressions soft and filled with compassion. “It’s over, Amanda,” Peter says.

I sink against Jake It is over, and now all those innocent women will be able to rest in peace knowing that monster won’t hurt anyone else.

I glance up at the man that I love and see him watching me carefully. I have him back and I have a feeling that this time things are going to be beautiful.