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  Protect

  Doms of Club Eden, Book 5

  L. K. Shaw

  Protect, Doms of Club Eden

  © 2017 by LK Shaw

  Cover design © 2019 by Laura Hidalgo

  All Rights Reserved.

  * * *

  No part of this book, with the exception of brief quotations for book reviews or critical articles, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Betrayal

  A Birthday Spanking

  Book List

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  My name is Detective Daniel Webber, and I am in deep shit.

  It all started a year ago when I was working on what I thought was an open-and-shut case involving a murdered prostitute. We had the john in custody, and he’d confessed. That was where I fucked up. I’d let a rookie cop make the arrest. A rookie cop who made one of the biggest mistakes a cop could ever make. He neglected to read the suspect his Miranda rights.

  I wasn’t diligent in my duties and a killer walked.

  I was on the verge of being suspended so I made sure to tread lightly around other not so open-and-shut cases. One of which hadn’t been opened yet when it was brought to my attention. A young boy was suspected of being abused by his uncle, who had become his guardian after the death of the boy’s adoptive parents.

  I was already on thin ice with my Chief, so I had to take care with unfounded presumptions. I couldn’t start hounding a man without proof. This was where I fucked up again. The man who’d brought the allegations of abuse to me, Connor Black, was somewhat of a… frenemy, for lack of a better term. We weren’t enemies, but we certainly weren’t friends.

  The boy had called his birth mother for help. I went to speak with her and instantly felt a spark of attraction. An attraction that became sort of a pissing contest between Black and me considering he was in love with her. I was so intent on pushing Black’s buttons that I lost focus on what my end goal should have been: taking care of people in need.

  I forgot I was a cop.

  I forgot my job was to serve and protect.

  A job I failed to do. Lives were almost lost, including that of Black’s ladylove.

  Then, a month ago, I was involved in yet another case, one that brought to light a significant amount of corruption within the department. Corruption in the higher echelons of the entire public service entity, starting with cops in my department, including the Chief, all the way up to the Mayor’s office. I held all the evidence and shit had been going down ever since. People I trusted and respected were dirty. With the way I was feeling about the whole situation, it made me want to take justice into my own hands, especially when it involved the trafficking of women.

  Because of my connection to the collector of said evidence, my career was in even further jeopardy and my life on a downward spiral. Losing myself in booze and women became my coping mechanism. Maybe it wasn’t the best choice, but fuck it, it was how I dealt.

  Today had been the longest day this week, and I was ready to head home and crack open a cold beer. Or three. Then she walked into the precinct. The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen even though she was covered head-to-toe in dirt, her shirt and pants torn in various places, and her dark brown hair a wild rat’s nest atop her head. What struck me the most though, were her eyes. They were almost a piercing blue, like ice. And filled with fear.

  Her breathing was shallow, and her glance darted hastily around the room as though searching for enemies in the shadows. Seeming to sense my stare, her eyes honed in on me. For several moments, neither of us broke eye contact. It seemed she was taking my measure, as I was hers. Instinctively, I knew that whatever brought her here would either be my downfall or my redemption.

  I slowly made my way over, making sure when I reached her that I stayed out of her personal space. I knew if I invaded it too soon, she’d spook. And there was no way I was letting her out of my sight anytime soon.

  “I’m Detective Webber. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Her bottom lip quivered at my words as tears sprang to her eyes, but she gained control quickly, blinking them back.

  “Is—is there some place private we can go?” She spoke so softly I had to strain to hear her.

  I hesitated only briefly before inclining my head. “My office is this way.”

  I led the way to the back of the precinct, only glancing behind me once to see if she followed. I ushered her into my office and closed the door. She took a seat in the vacant chair on the near side of the desk.

  I wanted to remain close, but also wanted to put her at ease, so I made my way to the other side and sat in my own chair as opposed to the seat next to her.

  “May I get you something to drink?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “Ok, how about we start with your name then.”

  She cleared her throat and let out a huff of air. “My name is Katherine Marsh.”

  Katherine. I savored the sound of her name inside my head.

  “And, what can I help you with, Katherine?”

  She looked down at her clenched fingers but remained silent.

  “Katherine.” I coaxingly spoke her name again, trying to gain her trust, but not push her. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  She finally looked up at me, her lips bloodless and white. “I saw someone murdered tonight.”

  I tried to hold back my shock, although I wasn’t sure how successful I was. “When did this murder take place? Where? Are you sure the victim is dead?”

  Without thought, I pulled out the notepad I always kept with me from my inside coat pocket.

  “I’d just finished my shift at La Scala, the Italian restaurant downtown, when I went out to the alley to take the trash to the dumpster. It was about 10:00 pm. I heard raised voices coming from farther down the alley. I thought I recognized one of them, so I headed in that direction. When I turned the corner, there were two men standing there arguing. I was about to announce my presence when one of the men reached out to the other man and pulled him close. At first, I thought I’d interrupted a lover’s quarrel and that one man was embracing the other in an attempt to stop the argument. Until the second man stumbled and fell to his knees that is.”

  She paused in her speech and swallowed several times, hard. Tears again built in her eyes; this time, there was no stopping them as they raced down her dirt-stained cheeks.

  “I stood there and watched the man topple over, holding his stomach, before I realized something was wrong. I knew I needed to move, but my feet were stuck. I must have made some type of noise, although I can’t be sure, because the standing man began turning toward me; that’s when my brain began working. I ducked out of sight behind the dumpster, held my breath, and prayed like I’d never prayed before. I heard movement and f
ootsteps, but they sounded like they headed in the opposite direction. I waited another few minutes before peeking around the corner. The only thing I saw was the man lying on the ground. Before I could even think about what I was doing, I rushed over to check on him. He was dead.”

  She barely finished the last sentence before a ragged sob escaped. She covered her face and cried as though her entire world had just come crashing down. There was nothing I hated more than seeing a woman cry. I swiftly moved around my desk and knelt before her, touching her shoulder in comfort. I rocked backward, barely catching the both of us before we toppled over, as she threw her arms around me and wept into my chest. I held her for what seemed like hours, both of us on our knees on the floor, trying to ignore the press of her breasts against my chest.

  Against my will, I felt myself harden as her luscious curves pressed against me. It was then I noticed the quiet. Her sobs had died down, and she was pushing herself closer to me. I pulled back slightly, causing our cheeks to glide against each other. Before I even knew what was happening, our lips met in a fierce kiss. Her mouth opened to the coaxing of my tongue, and I didn’t waste another second. My tongue darted in and began to play with hers, tasting her. I withdrew my tongue and was about to plunder her mouth again, when she ripped herself out of my arms.

  Katherine jumped to her feet, and with a hand over her mouth, a horrified expression across her face, she began backing away from me. She bumped into the door and quickly turned to flee the room. Her hand had just touched the doorknob when I finally came to my senses and clumsily stumbled to my feet. “Wait, Katherine. Don’t leave. Please.”

  Like I said. Deep shit.

  Chapter 2

  Oh my god, what was wrong with me? Emmett had been killed before my eyes, and I was sitting here, making out with a cop. My behavior appalled me. I needed to focus on finding Emmett’s murderer, not this sexy-as-sin cop. His California good looks—with his tanned skin, shaggy, sun-streaked brown hair, and forest green eyes were not a distraction I needed. The man who had treated me like his daughter was dead. And I was the only person who could bring his killer to justice.

  The plea from the detective had me frozen, indecision warring inside me. I was embarrassed by my behavior, but the grief-stricken side of me wanted justice. Or vengeance. I didn’t care which.

  I turned back to Webber and really studied him. I noticed the ruddy cheeks, and it hit me that he was probably just as, if not more so, embarrassed as I was about what just happened.

  “Please accept my apologies for my behavior. It was unprofessional and highly inappropriate.”

  “No, it was my fault. I’m sure you didn’t realize you were going to have a hysterical woman on your hands. No reason for you to apologize. Let’s just forget it happened. Okay?”

  He hesitated only briefly before nodding.

  “Please, have a seat. I need to ask you a few more questions if that’s all right.”

  Both of us returned to our previous seats, the atmosphere now tense with awkwardness. I was also pretty sure I looked a mess, even without looking in the mirror. I knew from past experience that I was not a pretty crier. My skin turned blotchy, my nose bright red. Not that I cared how I looked. I wasn’t trying to impress him.

  He reached for his discarded notepad and pen. He cleared his throat once and swallowed hard before asking his first question.

  “The man you found dead, did you know him? You said you thought you recognized one of the voices of the men arguing.”

  For a moment, grief almost consumed me again, but I maintained my composure. “His name is—was—Emmett Jackson. He owns La Scala, so he was my boss. He was also my surrogate father. I didn’t recognize the man who stabbed him. After I realized Emmett was dead, I ran back to the restaurant and called the police. I didn’t share my name, only telling them what I’d witnessed and where to find Emmett. The killer could be anyone. I don’t know for sure that whoever was in that alley last night was actually gone. I was, and still am, scared, Detective.”

  His scrutiny during my explanation had my skin itching. “You say you’re scared, but I also sense another emotion. Anger. You have the look of someone planning something. What if the killer saw you in the alley? What about some type of protective custody until we find him?”

  I thought about it, but immediately discarded the idea. I could only pray that I hadn’t been seen. I knew I wasn’t going to hide, no matter how scared I was. After everything he’d done for me, I owed it to Emmett to bring his killer to justice.

  “No protective custody. I plan on doing whatever needs to be done to find whoever did this.”

  “I hope you don’t plan on doing anything reckless, like trying to find the killer yourself. You need to leave the investigating to the police.”

  “I told you I plan on doing whatever I have to do to bring Emmett’s killer to justice.”

  I knew I was being stubborn, but I’d learned from the best. Emmett had been the most bullheaded man I knew. And the only father I had ever known. My heart was beyond broken.

  “If that’s the case, why even come to the police? You said you made an anonymous call. No one would know it was you. If you’re so hell-bent on bringing a killer to justice, then why not just do it?”

  I sighed in disgust. “Because I’m not completely stupid. I came here in the hopes that someone would help me. You just happened to be the first person to approach me.”

  “If it’s vengeance you’re looking for, you came to the wrong place. There are laws in place for a reason. The world can’t have vigilantes running around meting out their own justice. That is what the courts are for.”

  I could only stare at this person in front of me, who, fifteen minutes ago was the most attractive man I’d ever met. The heat from that kiss still burned inside me. But the person who kissed me with such passion seemed to have disappeared. Instead, he was replaced with someone who talked about laws and rules. I studied him further, gauging every word he’d just said. It hit me then that something about his tone didn’t ring true.

  “You said everything a by-the-books, emotionless cop would say, but why do I get the feeling that even you don’t believe a word you just spoke? And who said anything about a vigilante? I want justice to be served. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure it’s done. Whatever it takes. The question is—are you going to help me or not?”

  I sensed his frustration and indecision. I don’t know why I was pushing so hard for his help. For some reason, my instinct told me that the only person who could help me was this man right here. I was essentially asking him to, if need be, break the law for me, and I realized I didn’t even know his first name.

  I interrupted his thoughts, because I needed to know his name. “What’s your first name, anyway?”

  He seemed startled by my question. “It’s Daniel.”

  “I’m asking you again: Will you help me do whatever it takes? Please, Daniel?”

  Instantly, I knew what his decision would be. Resignation flashed across his face, and I almost felt sorry I’d pushed so hard.

  A sense of relief washed over me when he nodded. “Yes, I’ll help you.”

  Chapter 3

  After escorting Katherine out of the precinct with the promise to be in touch soon, I headed out to the alley to see if there was anything left. The crime scene investigation team on the case would have been thorough in gathering and processing all the evidence, but I needed to see everything for myself. I knew it was late and would be almost impossible to see anything, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t explain it, but I’d always had a sixth sense when it came to solving cases. The fuck-ups happened when I ignored my instincts. It was eerie how I would often show up to a scene after the fact and get a vibe. It wasn’t as though I could touch an object and see something. Nothing so voodoo hoodoo as that. Intuition perhaps? Regardless, I had it.

  I found an on-street parking spot a block away from the upscale Italian restaurant. I made my way to the alley that ran
behind the restaurant and walked in the direction Katherine had described earlier. The glare from my flashlight reflected off the puddles of what I prayed was water. A rat scurried through the beam of light shining across the alley before vanishing behind the dumpster. A shiver ran down me. I fucking hated rats.

  I came to an abrupt halt when I spotted the large area of blood staining the concrete inside the crime scene tape that hung haphazardly from the light poles. Stooping under the tape, I slowly swept my flashlight back and forth, illuminating as much of the area as I could considering it was almost pitch-black out. The adjacent lights barely cast a dull glow. So far, nothing about the crime scene stood out for me. It was like any other. Continuing to look around for a bit and spotting nothing, I had almost given up when my “spidey-senses” started tingling.

  I stepped over the bloodstain and began scanning the perimeter where trash and refuse lay. A sparkle shined as my flashlight beam landed on something. I bent down and fished a handkerchief out of my inside jacket pocket. Using the small piece of fabric, I picked up the glinting piece of metal from the ground. I stared at the bright, shiny, and extremely expensive looking cufflink. It was silver, the size of a nickel, except square in shape, and embossed with a black dagger. How apropos that the victim was stabbed to death, although I had no proof that this belonged to the killer. Anyone passing through this alley could have lost it. But something told me otherwise.

  I wrapped up the piece of jewelry and stuck it in my pocket. After another fifteen minutes, I knew I was out of luck and wouldn’t find anything else that might lead me to the killer. I needed to figure out how I was going to run prints without going through the proper channels. Instinct told me I needed to stay under my Captain’s radar. With any luck, I’d figure something out. In the meantime, I needed to head home for some sleep. I’d already worked a twelve-hour shift, and I’d spent another hour traipsing around here. I wouldn’t be any good to Katherine if I was too exhausted to even focus.