Broken into Pieces: m/m crime romance (Clear Water Creek Book 2)

Broken Into PiecesClear Water Creek Book 2Scarlet Blackwell Copyright © 2022 Scarlet BlackwellThis is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons living, dead or undead, events, places or names is purely coincidental.No part of this book may be reproduced or transferred in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the publisher. Uploading and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.Text copyright © 2022 Scarlet BlackwellAll rights reservedBlogCover design by B4Jay BROKEN INTO PIECESThe bogeyman has a name and that name is Dominic Bateman.Finn Austen is a man with something to hide and Sheriff Brandon Schofield wants to know what it is. Finn is scarred and mutilated and hides away in a house he’s made into a prison.Should he run forever, looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life, or should he go back to what he knew and where he belonged?Brandon wants to open him up but Finn’s waiting for the bogeyman to find him. He knows time’s running out and he’s not sure he cares anymore.“He should have killed me years ago. I should have let him.”Possible Spoilers:Themes: hurt/comfort, love at first sight, drama, angst.Genre: Dark, gritty contemporary romance.Warnings: Abuse, strong language, rape, violence, homophobia. Sexual scenes. Contents Title PageCopyrightBROKEN INTO PIECESChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-oneChapter Twenty-twoAuthor's noteABOUT THE AUTHOROUT NOWOUT NOWOUT NOW Chapter OneThe moon hung low over the trees, illuminating the clearing, shining on the glassy surface of the still lake. On his way home, Sheriff Brandon Schofield drove down the rutted road leading to his house.A long busy shift had started off with a drunk driver on the highway and continued with a domestic assault and a shoplifting. The assault had been the hardest. Brandon had only been in post two months and some crimes were more emotive to him than others. He didn’t want to see a wife battered by her husband, not when this town was so small that he rubbed shoulders with the guy in Bluey’s bar on the weekends. That was not his idea of fun.Reuben Baxter had been bailed out later that day and gone to stay with his brother after a stern warning from Brandon. Had he done this before? Mrs. Baxter wasn’t talking, but her eye was black and she was clearly terrified of her husband. Reuben wouldn’t be laying another finger on her because Brandon would be watching like a hawk from now on.Something caught his attention—the silhouette of a man in the trees. What was he doing out here alone? He stood with his back turned, hands in front of him.Brandon’s foot shifted to the brake. He pulled over, staring. He couldn’t be, could he? He switched off the engine. Grimly, he got out, put his hat on and slammed the door before he walked into the trees, jaw set. Nobody got away with things like this on Brandon’s beat. He had standards and public urination was one of them.“Sir?”The man turned his head, startled, and cursed low under his breath before he fumbled at his pants.“What are you doing, sir?” Brandon stepped closer.“Ah, Officer.” The man turned around fully so the moonlight fell on his features. He was very attractive. Brandon might have been on the job, but he wasn’t blind. The fact that he was so handsome irritated Brandon further. Of average height with a lean body, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, he was dark-haired with eyes bleached of color in the moonlight.“I got caught short.” The man slurred his words.Brandon squared his shoulders, trying not to dwell on the man’s perfect face. “Are you drunk?”“I’ve had a couple of beers. I came out for a walk and—”“You thought you’d spoil an area of outstanding natural beauty by pissing on a two-hundred-year old oak tree?”The man’s small mouth tightened to a pout. “And you’re wasting your time pulling me up for it? Don’t you have donuts to eat or something?”Brandon tensed. He stepped forward, his aim being to intimidate the smaller man, and it worked. He knew he was an imposing figure at six feet and all muscle, but he had never seen anyone shrink back the way the stranger did now. He flinched like Brandon had leapt at him, one hand up as though he would defend himself.What was this? First-hand experience of police brutality or something more? Brandon frowned. His gaze was drawn to the man’s right arm. A thick bandage ran from his wrist up beyond the sleeve of his T-shirt. His eyes moved back to the man’s face, and he noticed a dark smudge on his jaw. A bruise.Brandon folded his arms, looked the man steadily in the eye and watched the nervousness spring up on his face.“What?”“What did you do to your arm?”“An accident.” The man looked away.“What kind of accident?”“What the hell is this? Do you cross examine everyone you catch pissing on a tree or is it just me? Either arrest me or let me go, goddamn it!”Brandon narrowed his eyes. “What’s your name?”“Finn Austen.”“Well, congratulations, Mr. Austen. I’m sheriff here, and you just talked your way into being my guest for the evening. Let’s go.” He grabbed the man’s arm, reaching for his cuffs with the other hand.Finn let out such a howl of pain at the contact that Brandon let go in shock. Finn staggered back, face turned away, right arm cradled to his body. He leaned against the oak tree he had just defaced, breathing heavily.Brandon hovered behind him, composure lost, uncertainty taking its place. His gaze lingered once more on the bandaged arm.“You going to tell me what you did to it now?”Finn turned his head. “Go to hell,” he said between his teeth.Brandon moved up behind him so he breathed on the back of Finn’s neck. The man trembled,