Page 4 of Patrick’s Seduction (Scanguards Vampires #19)

4

F allon wanted to scream. She’d spent the better part of the afternoon at the police station closest to her apartment in Laurel Heights, trying to get somebody to listen to her, and had been handed from one police officer to the next, each one giving her a different reason as to why she couldn’t get a restraining order against Cameron. No wonder most women didn’t bother going to the police. They weren’t helpful at all. She’d been na?ve thinking that they would listen to her complaint and immediately recognize that Cameron Gallagher was a danger to her. Instead, they treated her like a hysterical woman who was seeking attention. As if she was making this up!

“You’re saying your ex-boyfriend has never hit you?” the young male police officer asked for the second time, his forehead furrowed.

“As I said before,” she emphasized, forcing herself not to raise her voice, “so far, he hasn’t hurt me. But he threatened me.”

“What were his threats exactly?”

How should she describe Cameron’s threats? He’d been vague, but that hadn’t diminished the fear she’d felt when he’d lashed the cold words at her: that she was his. His what? His slave? His property? His to do with what he wanted? In that moment, she’d seen that he was capable of anything. It was a gut feeling. But if she said that to the police officer, he’d think she was overreacting.

“He said that I would regret leaving him, and that he would punish me for doing so.” Well, those weren’t his exact words, but the intent was there.

“And you have witnesses that can confirm those, uhm, threats?” The last word sounded as if he’d put quotation marks around it, making it sound just as doubtful as his facial expression underlined.

Fallon cleared her throat. “No, not exactly. He came to my lab at UCSF when everybody else was at a meeting. I was alone when he threatened me. He must have waited until everyone was gone so that he could catch me alone.”

“Hmm.” The police officer hesitated.

She knew that look. He was trying to find an excuse to palm her off on somebody else, or to get rid of her altogether so he wouldn’t be stuck with the paperwork.

“I’m telling you: Cameron is dangerous. I don’t feel safe. He knows where I work, where I live. He can get to me anytime he wants to.”

“I understand, Ms. Doyle—”

“Dr. Doyle,” she interrupted him. “So, what else do I need to do to get a restraining order? I mean, isn’t that what it’s for? To protect women like me from violent ex-boyfriends?”

The young officer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Well, in theory. If you had any proof of his violence, then we could certainly do something.”

Fallon gritted her teeth. “Damn it, he’s stalking me! Does he have to hurt me first before the police will do something to keep me safe?”

“Please calm down, Dr. Doyle.”

“Calm down?” she scoffed. Nobody had ever calmed down just because somebody had told them to calm down. On the contrary, it got her even more agitated. “I’m scared. For the last two months this man has stalked me, sent me messages, bombarded me with phone calls at all hours of the day and night, and sent me unwanted gifts. I told him it was over, but he wouldn’t give up. He’s a stalker.”

“Dr. Doyle, I know this is—”

“Officer Friedman, why don’t I take over here?” A woman dressed in civilian clothes appeared next to the police officer and put a hand on the man’s arm.

“Are you sure, detective?” Officer Friedman asked with a quizzical look on his face as he stared at the badge that hung on a lanyard around the detective’s neck.

“Yes. I’ve been assigned to assist with any stalker cases.” She looked directly at Fallon for a moment, before adding, “And this looks like it fits the criteria.”

“Be my guest, detective.” Officer Friedman nodded and turned away, clearly relieved.

Fallon stared at the pretty blonde woman who was taller than her, but around her age. She seemed out of place in the police station, dressed too casually for a detective, yet exuding an authority that inspired instant confidence in her abilities as a cop. There was a kind smile on her lips and warmth in her eyes.

“Dr. Doyle? I’m Detective Anita Diaz-Montgomery. I was alerted that you’re dealing with a stalker. I’ve come from police headquarters to see if I can help you. I’m sorry that you’ve been getting the runaround here, but luckily, one of the officers here sent me a message.”

Was this woman serious? A detective was getting involved in issuing a restraining order, when this was police grunt work at best?

“Detective? Uhm, will you be able to help me get a restraining order against my ex-boyfriend?”

“Why don’t we go into one of the interview rooms, so we can talk without being disturbed?” She glanced around, indicating the busy station where everybody talked over each other, and the noise level increased by the minute.

Fallon hesitated. Was this another attempt at making her understand that her experience with Cameron didn’t warrant a restraining order? That she was overreacting? That she was reading too much into her confrontation with her ex?

Detective Diaz-Montgomery seemed to sense her hesitation and put her hand on Fallon’s forearm. There was something comforting in the gentle touch.

“If you feel threatened by your ex, I will make sure that you’re safe. Whether that’s by having the court grant you a restraining order, or by getting you protection via other means. I promise you that.”

For the first time in hours, Fallon felt that somebody was really listening to her concerns and was taking them seriously. Was it because this was a woman? Did she know firsthand that verbal threats could instill just as much fear in a woman as physical violence? Had she seen the consequences of the police’s inaction in other cases? Had she seen women getting hurt because nobody believed them? It didn’t matter why this detective was willing to help her. It only mattered that she did.

“Thank you, detective. I appreciate your help.”