Dropped by the Cop, Caught by the Heir

Ten broken bones, three of them shattered. And you're saying he just fell? Harrison sat across the table, his arms crossed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Yeah. Slippery floors. He tripped the second he walked in. There was no way I was going to admit the burglar broke into my apartment and accidentally wiped out my 100,000-word thesis.

Chapter 1

I was a world-class MMA fighter. I'd made decent money in the ring over the years. So, when the burglar broke into my apartment, I had just stepped out of the shower. Now, we were locked in a staring contest.

"Hi. Did you pick my lock just to rob the place?" I held my phone in one hand and kept my towel secured with the other, keeping my voice even.

The guy twirled a switchblade in his hand.

His eyes did a sleazy sweep over my body before he lunged straight at me.

I didn't back down.

I slammed a heavy hook right into his jaw, followed by a brutal kick to his stomach.

But he was a seasoned street rat.

The second he hit the floor, he locked onto my ankle and yanked hard, slamming me onto the ground.

"Ugh!" I hit the floor hard, my brain instantly replaying the fight.

That last kick missed the sweet spot, mostly because I still had one hand clamped shut over this damn towel. It restricted my movements. Otherwise, I would have beaten him to a bloody pulp.

By now, the guy realized I was the wrong target. He scrambled toward my desk, grabbed my laptop, and made a run for it.

"No!" I pushed off the floor and flipped onto my feet, but I was too late.

The power cord snapped out. The screen went dead. My 100,000-word thesis vanished into thin air along with the black screen.

At the precinct, Harrison handed me a paper cup of water. He was wearing civilian clothes. Today was his day off, but his buddies at the station all knew I was his ex-girlfriend. They must have tipped him off.

I didn't expect him to actually show up.

"Just a few routine questions, Vada. Don't stress it," Connor said, dropping into the chair across from me with a notepad.

I frowned. "I didn't call 911."

"We know. The perp did. He called us begging for help." Connor flashed a deeply awkward smile.

Pathetic. I scoffed, curling my lip.

Harrison, who had been silent off to the side, suddenly lifted his head. His dark eyes locked onto mine.

"That suspect is wanted for murder. We've been hunting him down. Didn't think you'd beat him into turning himself in."

"So, Vada how exactly did he end up with ten broken bones, three of them shattered?" Connor tapped his pen against the pad, trying to look serious, but his eyes were practically gleaming with gossip.

I leaned back in my chair, staring dead into his eyes, and dropped a single word with zero inflection: "Tripped."

Connor's pen froze. He threw a helpless look at Harrison. Anyone with a working brain knew the guy didn't just trip.

Harrison snatched the pen from Connor's hand. He slid into the seat directly across from me and quickly scribbled a line. Suspect sustained thirteen fractures from a physical altercation.

"How did he trip?" Harrison kept his eyes on me, his face a stone wall.

I didn't blink. "He tried to run after stealing my stuff. He accidentally smashed his arm into my bat. Then a metal pipe fell from the ceiling right onto his toes.

"Before he could recover, a barbell flew at him out of nowhere. And then a rope snapped loose and tied up his hands."

Harrison nodded. He wrote it down. Perp attempted to flee post-burglary and was struck in the arm by victim's bat.

Victim then utilized a metal pipe and barbell to inflict varying degrees of trauma, finishing by securing the perp's arms with rope.

He pushed the report across the table. "Read it over. Any issues?"

"None." Unbelievable. We'd been broken up for nearly six months, and Harrison was still the only bastard who truly understood me.

Chapter 2

Connor's eyes widened, his pen hovering over the notepad. If he weren't technically on the clock, I was pretty sure he would be spitting out poetry to praise me.

I walked out of the precinct, taking a deep breath of the fresh air.

But the second I saw the BMW parked right in front of me, the air suddenly felt a lot less fresh. Stale, actually.

"I'll give you a ride." Harrison sat in the driver's seat and rolled down the window. His cold gaze swept over me.

I shoved his car door back, not even bothering to look at him. "Mr. Harrison should go drop off that fragile, pitiful little princess. I'm afraid my fists might just scare her."

"She and I are just friends." Harrison's explanation felt exactly like it always didhollow. But staring into his seemingly sincere eyes, some stupid impulse made me believe him. I pulled the passenger door open and slid inside.

That was exactly when a sickeningly sweet voice floated over from behind.

"Harrison, aren't you off duty today?" Elodie seemed to materialize out of thin air.

Harrison looked at her, then glanced at me through the rearview mirror. He clearly knew I was already getting pissed off. Still, he rolled down the window. His tone, at least, was distant.

"Do you need something?"

"Harrison, could you give me a ride home?" Elodie widened her misty eyes. It was a perfectly calculated look, the kind no one was supposed to be able to refuse.

"It's not very convenient." Harrison pulled a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it through the window. "Take a cab."

I turned my head away, too annoyed to watch. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elodie leaning in, whispering something right against Harrison's ear. The posture was intimately close, and he didn't lean away at all.

After she finished whispering, Harrison turned his head to look at me. He stayed dead silent for two seconds. "Vada," he started, dropping his voice low. "Let me drop her off first, and then"

"If you drive her today, I'm getting out." My gaze turned ice-cold.

Sure enough, I never should have felt an ounce of pity for him. He just wanted to play both sides. Classic cheating bastard behavior.

Harrison gripped the steering wheel in a death hold, his knuckles turning white from the force. He took a deep breath, dropping his voice low. "Vada, I'll explain everything when we get back. Just let me"

I didn't even wait for him to finish.

I shoved the car door open, stepped out, and strode off.

I flagged down a passing cab and left him in the dust. I never believed in the whole "I have a good reason" crap.

The day we broke up, both of my hands had been fractured in a fight. He happened to be on leave. I wanted him to take me to the hospital, but he claimed he had urgent business. He ended up sending Connor to accompany me instead.

Later that same day, I went for a walk down the hospital corridor. I saw it with my own eyeshim, walking Elodie into a patient's room. That was his so-called "urgent business."

He didn't show up until the next day, rushing in looking like he'd been through a war zone. His eyes were bloodshot, looking like he hadn't slept a wink.

"Vada, I'm so sorry. Things went crazy at the precinct. I got here as fast as I could." Harrison sprinted up to me.

His eyes landed on my bandaged hands, and his breathing literally hitched. He gently but firmly grabbed my wrists.

I stared at him coldly, the corner of my mouth twitching up into a mocking smirk. It was always this perfect, bulletproof excuse. It backed me into a corner where my only option was to obediently say "it's fine." If I dared to lose my temper, I'd instantly become the unreasonable, hysterical crazy woman.

"It's fine." I smiled gently, playing the exact role of the understanding girlfriend he demanded.

Harrison's shoulders dropped heavily. His eyes were glued to my wounds. His Adam's apple bobbed with extreme difficulty, and his voice came out so hoarse it sounded like he'd swallowed sand. "Does it hurt?"

Chapter 3

"Don't just ask. Break a few of your own bones and find out." I kept my gaze steady on him, my expression blank, but the warmth that used to be there was dead.

He lowered his eyes. He knew I was pissed. He stayed silent for a long time, chewing on his words before finally opening his mouth.

"Vada, let's stop doing this, okay? It hurts too much. Don't you hate being in pain?

"Let's do something else. Or you don't have to do anything at all. I can take care of you."

I knew Harrison came from serious money. Keeping me comfortable wouldn't be an issue for him. But it wasn't exactly like I was broke, either.

"Sure. But I have one condition." I lowered my eyelashes, then raised an eyebrow, my eyes icing over.

Harrison looked up instantly, his hands tightening around mine. "Name it, Vada."

"We have to break up. Otherwise, I can't use your money to keep other men on the side." I leaned back against the hospital bed, giving him a sideways glance, a full smile blooming on my face.

His jawline instantly pulled taut. His eyes locked onto mine, his chest heaving for a second. But eventually, he forced his emotions down and dropped his voice low.

"Vada, I'm not trying to control you. But watching you take a beating in the octagon is driving me insane.

"It's like when you're in danger, and I'm forced to just stand there and watch like a piece of trash. I'd rather be the one bleeding."

I let out a low laugh and shoved his hands away. "Take your useless sympathy and get the hell away from me, Harrison. Don't make me hate you."

As I spoke, I leaned further back out of habit. I forgot about my injured hands and slammed them right into the headboard. "Fuck!"

A sharp gasp ripped from my throat. The stitches felt like they were tearing wide open. Harrison immediately lunged forward, his pupils constricting. But the next second, his phone rang.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the caller ID. Elodie.

He answered the call. The tension in his body visibly spiked. He spoke in a hushed tone.

"Where are you hurt? Okay. I'm on my way."

He hung up the phone and grabbed my hand. "Vada, I'm going to get a doctor. Just hold on for a second."

Before I could even open my mouth to respond, he spun around and sprinted out the door.

Cold sweat slicked my forehead. I shouldn't have moved. I stared at Harrison's retreating back, wanting to call out to him to wait, but he was already gone. A crushing wave of agony swallowed me whole.

But more than the pain, it was the suffocating helplessness. I waited for what felt like hours. No doctor showed up.

The room was empty. Gritting my teeth, I dragged my body inch by agonizing inch toward the edge of the bed until my fingers finally smashed the call button.

The buzzer echoed. A nurse hurried in a minute later. Her eyes dropped to the blood soaking through my bandages, and her breath hitched.

"You're losing so much blood! Why didn't you buzz earlier? I'll page the doctor right now."

"Didn't my boyfriend just come out to get you?" I clamped down on my bottom lip. All the color drained from my face.

The nurse applied pressure to my wounds while grabbing the intercom. "That's impossible. I'm the only one working the night desk on this floor. If someone told me, I would have known."

A student nurse standing by the door heard us and spoke up, her voice small. "Some guy did run past me earlier, yelling something about his girlfriend's stitches tearing open and that we needed to get someone in there.

"But then he just bolted toward the exit. I grabbed his arm to ask which room, but he shoved me off.

"I thought he was rushing downstairs because his girlfriend was in the ER. I chased him all the way down there, but he was gone."

The moment she finished, the doctor rushed in. He took one look at my torn hands, did some rapid triage, and told me I needed an immediate CT scan to make sure nothing was permanently damaged.

Chapter 4

The nurse let out a heavy breath, immediately launching into a scolding. "What is wrong with your boyfriend? If you are going to get help, find the right person!

"How irresponsible can a guy be, just blurting something out and running off? She is just a student nurse. What does she know? Can he not read the giant trainee badge on her chest?"

"Drop it. He is my ex anyway. Just let it go." I pressed a hand over my fresh bandages, sank into the mattress, and let the exhaustion pull me under.

His job meant he held the lives of countless people in his hands. When it came down to it, he chose them over me. I did not have the right to blame him for that, but I did have the right to walk away. So, I chose to stop being his girlfriend.

Snapping out of the memory, I stared down the long, empty street. I let out a long, slow exhale. I would eventually find someone who could handle my career, and he would find a girl perfectly suited to his. We just were not the right fit.

Looking up, a neon bar sign flickered in the distance. My mood suddenly felt lighter. A drink sounded perfect.

I pushed through the heavy wooden doors and ordered a bottle of whiskey. The bartender gave me a hard look, double-checking that I did not just want a glass, before sliding the bottle over and demanding cash upfront.

I downed a quarter of it straight from the neck. The burn was underwhelming. Halfway through the bottle, I walked back out into the night air.

The street ahead looked blurry and endlessly long. I stumbled toward a metal guardrail and threw my legs over it.

The sudden roar of a heavy motorcycle engine ripped through the quiet night. I turned my head just in time to see a bike tearing straight toward me.

The rider must have spotted me at the last second. He slammed on the brakes, but he was carrying way too much speed. The bike lost traction and went down hard.

Metal screeched against asphalt.

Sparks flew as the bike skidded away, and the rider slammed brutally into the guardrail with a muffled grunt.

The adrenaline hit me like a bucket of ice water. The alcohol haze evaporated instantly. I sprinted over and crouched down beside him.

"Are you insane? Why are you riding like that on the road?"

The guy yanked off his helmet, exposing a pair of dark, razor-sharp eyes. "What road? This is a private racing track."

"Bullshit. This is clearly a road." I blinked my blurry eyes, pointing a finger out into the dark.

The man wiped a smear of dirt off his face. Using his uninjured arm, he pushed himself up from the ground. "Does your driveway lead straight onto a race track?"

I followed his gaze. High up, a massive illuminated sign reading Speedway Circuit burned brightly in the dark. Okay, maybe I really did wander onto someone private track. My bad.

I bit the inside of my cheek. I quickly leaned in to check him over. "Your arm looks broken."

"Don't touch me!" He tried to dodge, but my hand already clamped down on his shoulder. I totally forgot about his injury. He sucked in a sharp, hissing breath through his teeth.

I stood up, keeping my face dead serious. "Don't move. I'm trained in sports first aid."

He let out a harsh scoff. "Like hell I believe you. I ugh."

A sickening pop echoed in the air.

Before he could even finish his sentence, I gripped his forearm and snapped the bone right back into place.

I dusted off my hands and looked down at him with a hint of pride. "Try it. See if you can move your hand."

He kept his head down, the moonlight casting dark shadows over his face. Finally, a furious, ice-cold roar exploded out of him. "Are you my fucking kryptonite?"

"Hey, don't get mad, pops," I said, trying to soothe him. "I didn't say I wouldn't take responsibility. I'll take you to the hospital, get you a CT scan, pay for everything"

"Who the hell are you calling pops? I'm twenty-four."

Chapter 5

I stayed silent for half a second before looking up. "Little bro."

"I" He raised his hand, looking like he wanted to slap me, but he took a deep breath and forced his arm back down.

I grabbed his uninjured arm to support him. "Don't be mad, little bro. Big sis is taking you to the hospital right now."

He kicked his wrecked bike, his voice a harsh bark. "Stop calling me little bro!"

Eventually, I dragged him to the ER for a CT scan and a full workup. The doctor cleared his arm, but diagnosed a mild concussion. Nothing severe, just needed observation.

Terrified I might have permanently scrambled his brain, I quickly got him admitted and booked the most expensive VIP suite available.

"Bro no, wait. Big bro. Have some fruit." I presented a freshly sliced fruit platter to him with both hands like an offering.

Hayes kept his eyes on the TV, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth without saying a word.

His silence was making me sweat. To stop myself from spiraling, I desperately searched for a conversation starter.

"Bro, how about I sear up two tomahawk steaks for you tomorrow morning? I swear, once you eat them, you'll be jumping out of bed and throwing punches."

"Mhm," he grunted, utterly unimpressed.

I tried again. "Bro, is there absolutely anything else you need? Want me to help you to the bathroom? Need me to undress you?"

"I can manage." His tone remained flat.

My pulse hammered against my throat. Just to test if his brain was actually functioning, I pulled out a Sudoku puzzle book and handed it to him. "Bro, I can't figure out this number grid. Do you mind helping me out?"

Hayes raised an eyebrow. He dropped his fork, wiped his hands, and took the book. "Give me a pen"

Before he could even finish the sentence, his head snapped up, his jaw setting into a hard line. "Are you playing with me?"

"Hehe." I scratched my head with a sheepish grin. "So can you solve it?"

Hayes stared at me, the muscles in his jaw ticking. He gave a cold, fake smile. "Why don't you just punch yourself in the chest twice? I can't stand you right now."

He turned his back to me, making it obvious he was done entertaining my existence.

Huh? That was a wild request, but considering I put him in the hospital, I couldn't exactly say no.

Thump. Thump.

I slammed my fists into my own chest twice. It was loud, but it didn't actually hurt much.

The guy in the bed bolted upright. He stared at me, his eyes wide, examining me like I was some bizarre, undiscovered alien species. "Did you skip evolution class? You just do whatever I say?"

I blinked at him slowly. "Didn't you just tell me to?"

His dark eyes locked onto mine, studying me closely. He took a deep breath, turned his head away again, and went back to ignoring me. I was just about to try and appease him again when my phone buzzed.

[ Harrison: Vada, can we talk? I don't want to lose you over a misunderstanding. ]

I stared at the screen. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a second before typing out a final, ruthless reply.

[ Me: I know you have your reasons for taking care of Elodie, reasons you probably can't share because they're confidential. But no matter the excuse, I cannot share my partner with someone else. Besides, you always told me to be a good, obedient girl, right? Well, I'm being good now. I'm not throwing a tantrum. I'm just dropping you. ]

[ Harrison: Are you really willing to just throw us away like this? ]

[ Me: One day, I will be. ]

Chapter 6

I was just about to pocket my phone when it buzzed again. A text from Harrison: Look up.

I stared at the screen, then snapped my head up. Harrison was standing right in the doorway. His arm was wrapped in bandages, dark patches of blood still seeping through the gauze.

"Are you" I jerked forward to get up, but my elbow knocked hard into Hayes's injured arm.

He sucked in a sharp, hissing breath through his teeth. His dark gaze pinned me down. "Why the hell did you just jump up like that? See a ghost?"

"Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?" I nervously grabbed his arm, checking the bandage. "Maybe I should buzz the doctor to come check on it."

"Don't bother." Hayes yanked his arm back, his jaw tight.

I gave him an apologetic look. "My bad. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll watch it next time."

"Whatever. Just go to sleep." Hayes shut his eyes, dropping the sentence flatly.

Harrison stood frozen in the doorway. He didn't step inside. He just stared at me, his gaze carrying that same, suffocating gentleness it always did.

I glanced at Hayes, then quietly slipped out of the room. I pulled the door shut behind me and looked at him. "Why are you here