by Melody Anne
She wasn’t a fool. She knew there were men out to get her. She just hadn’t thought of the possibility they’d come looking for her in San Diego. This was a safe and secure place. It was familiar and the only spot she’d thought to come. She was just a small fish in a very large pond. Her philosophy had always been out of sight, out of mind. If she wasn’t around, she’d hoped they’d feel she wasn’t a threat. Declan was making her think she’d been wrong to assume that.
As she wandered through the festival she’d stumbled upon, she hated how her heart pounded and her adrenaline spiked. She hadn’t been afraid . . . much . . . since she’d arrived in California. Sure, she’d been spooked a bit easier than she had been before, but she’d felt a sense of peace.
Declan had shattered that false sense of security. She was angry with him for that. She couldn’t be a good mother if she was constantly looking over her shoulder. Right now she wanted a cup of coffee and another muffin to calm her stomach. Then she’d gaze out at the water, take some calming breaths, and wait for Timothy to get out of school. She was sure Declan would track her down before too long.
She might not want to admit it to herself but she felt a bit safer knowing he was looking out for her. Yes, she also felt smothered, and yes, it scared her. But there was a sense of security in knowing a man as capable and strong as Declan Forbes wanted to keep her alive. She wanted to tell herself it was only because of the case, but she wasn’t sure of that. Of course, she wasn’t sure of much of anything anymore.
This city was comforting with people coming and going all the time. Of course there were the locals, but there were also a lot of people visiting for fishing and recreation. This long weekend looked to be a festival event.
That meant there were extra people in the city, and normally she loved every minute of that. She loved to people-watch and try to figure out what they were doing or thinking by their expressions. She could paint a story in her mind of young lovers on their honeymoon or a couple celebrating fifty years together. She watched mothers pushing strollers and teens flirting while eating ice cream. She loved the different stages of life people went through. Some of those times were good and some bad, but all told a unique story that gave a beautiful picture to anyone who took the time to see it.
But right now, instead of imagining wonderful stories, she was searching for danger. Was that man leaning against the tree near the alley looking at her? Did he have an agenda? Was the woman sitting on the steps sending furtive glances around calling in her location? Was there really someone after her? Or was it all in Declan’s head? She didn’t know. She hated the fear and uncertainty, and she hated even more the distrust in her fellow human beings. She’d never been that woman and didn’t want to start being her now.
Declan wanted her to go back home. But wasn’t that exactly like going straight into the lion’s den? It seemed so much safer to be right where she was. She wanted to go home eventually, if it would still be home after the way she’d left. But she was hopeful. It was a place that, for the first time in her life, she’d felt safe and cared about.
Angela shook off those thoughts. This wasn’t the time or place for them. She needed to pay attention to the here and now and what was happening around her. For the most part she’d felt safe until today. She’d thought she was comfortable and secure, and more importantly, that Timothy was.
She made it to the water and felt her stress practically dissipate. Water had always been a safe haven for her. She could fish, swim, or simply dip her toes in. But sometimes all it took was watching the way the waves splashed on the shore. No ripple was ever the same. Most people didn’t know there wasn’t a single ripple that looked like another; they were as unique as people were.
The sound, sight, and smell of a lake, ocean, stream, or river was soothing. She’d be more than content to own a home in the backwoods with a river running right past her front door. That was her idea of heaven. Maybe after Timothy was grown she’d find something just like that and live out the rest of her days there.
Again she had to smile and shake off her thoughts. She wasn’t being observant at all. She was living inside her own head. Maybe Declan had a point about her safety. She didn’t seem to be worried enough about it.
With the smell of the water before her and the aroma of pastries and coffee behind her, she was hungry. She’d been too busy and then too stressed to put anything in her stomach. But now seemed like a good time for a delicious mocha.
She turned around and looked at all the vendors, sure there was something delicious if the smells were any indication. She’d grab a quick drink and a bite to eat, then head back toward the café where she’d left her full cup of coffee . . . and Declan. She was sure he wasn’t there now and would almost bet her life he was searching for her, but she’d run into him. If not, he’d find her at home. She smiled, having no doubt he knew where that was.
She didn’t mind some people finding her. Others she hoped would never spot her again. That thought took the smile right off her face.
As she headed toward a coffee stand, someone ran into her, nearly knocking her to the ground. Instant déjà vu filled her along with a sense of foreboding.
“Excuse me,” the woman said with a hurried gait and apologetic smile. Then she was gone. Angela took a deep breath.
“You’re being stupid now,” she muttered to herself. But how could she help it when Declan had put so many thoughts into her mind? It was easy to get bumped in this crowded place.
She made it to the vendor and waited for several minutes before she was able to order a mocha and blueberry scone. The first sip was heaven. She turned back toward the crowd and wasn’t sure which direction to go next.
Still was filled with a sense of unease that she desperately tried to squash down. She was perfectly safe. Nothing could happen to her in the middle of a crowded city center. A person would be foolish to try something with so many witnesses. Even knowing this, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
She walked along as she finished her coffee and scone, barely tasting the treat. Declan was to blame for that. Normally she’d get the utmost enjoyment out of a walk on a beautifully sunny day. But instead of people-watching and browsing, she saw danger everywhere she turned. Instead of enjoying the differences in the people she passed, she watched for weapons. She was a hot mess.
Of course Declan would see danger everywhere he looked. That was part of his job description. He was FBI, and that had to change a person and make them more cynical. The world needed people like him. It also needed people like her who saw petals on the roses instead of thorns on the stems.
She refused to let criminals take away her love of life. She refused to give in and be afraid of everyone and every sound. Yes, she needed to be cautious, but that didn’t mean she had to change the very fabric of who she was.
Still, one thought ran through her brain—if Declan had been able to find her, wouldn’t the bad guys be able to do the same? That was like a mantra in her brain. It was removing the joy from her life. If she went home she might feel better. Maybe tomorrow would bring her peace.
She had to have her act together before Timothy got home because she wouldn’t allow her son to live in a world of fear. She’d lived her life well, making very few mistakes. And the ones she had made had shaped her into the woman she was today, so she was glad she’d made them.
Her life was exactly as it had been at this time the day before—before Declan had shown up and reminded her of what she’d fled from. If she could get that through her brain she’d be fine. The only thing that had changed was the arrival of Declan and Owen.
But even with her pep talk chills traveled down her spine. She looked around again and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so she tried to shake it off.
She moved down the street and turned. The crowd parted. And that’s when her heart lodged in her throat.
Maybe her paranoia had been for a good reason. There was a man standing in the sha
dows, and no one else seemed to be aware of him. Angela couldn’t help but notice the small man. He wasn’t just standing there. She knew that glint of the sun on metal. She knew exactly what he was holding. And she knew it was aimed directly at her.
She did the only thing she could do at that point. She turned and ran. She prayed he didn’t fire, prayed she didn’t get someone killed. Maybe she should’ve listened to Declan. It might be too late to ever tell him that.
Chapter Seven
There was a reason humans survived the impossible. Declan firmly believed there was something out there greater than himself, greater than any of them. He believed that gut feeling a person had was something on the other side telling you to take a step backward or forward. He cursed the fates and the heavens when a child came up missing or a person was killed. He lost his faith and gained it back.
He believed in a higher power.
And when he heard a gunshot rip through the air, his blood froze. His gut had been telling him to get to Angela; she needed him. And he knew why. She was in danger . . . and he might be too late.
He was running before the smoke cleared. Chaos erupted around him as screams filled the air. There was nothing more terrifying than the sound of a gun going off in the middle of the city. In the country a person wouldn’t blink twice, but in the city there were too many bad guys intent on bringing others down.
“Angela!” he cried. He couldn’t help himself. He had to find her. He refused to think it was too late, and there was no doubt this wasn’t a coincidence. Someone was after her, and he was deathly afraid she’d been found.
Another shot rang in the air, and instead of terrifying him more, it gave him a sense of relief. He prayed no one was hurt, but two shots meant the first hadn’t hit its target. He hoped and prayed the second one hadn’t as well.
There were too many people around him. He couldn’t get through the crowd, still he pushed his way forward.
“Turn around,” someone shouted. “A guy is shooting.” The words trailed off as the person trying to warn him continued past.
Sobs and screams filled the air as he tried to make his way through the swarm of people. He was used to rushing in while the rest of the world flew past. That was his job. It was his obligation. But never before had he felt such a deep sense of urgency.
Declan carried his own sidearm safely tucked away, and he wasn’t going to pull it. There were too many potential victims around. There was too much fear. He didn’t need a weapon anyway. His hands were as deadly as a bullet. He’d take this guy down, or he’d die trying. He realized he’d give his life for this woman. But he didn’t think he’d have to. There was no way some punk with a gun, willing to shoot it into a crowd of innocent people, would get the upper hand with him.
As he got farther into the crowd, it began thinning. There was still chaos all around with people hiding in doorways, peeking out, and others crying as they ran past. Children were screaming, and parents were holding them close. He hated that they had to witness this horror and feel the sense of powerlessness that came with it. The world had become a less safe place. He’d give about anything to go back to his grandfather’s time when there wasn’t a thought of shooting inside a school, or a mall, or a movie theatre. What had happened to humanity and loving your neighbor? He might never get that answer.
He was focused as he moved forward. Those thoughts were running through his head, but his main objective was getting to Angela. He had to get there in time, had to protect her. Get her out of this city. Her and Timothy. Thank goodness her son was in school. As soon as he had her secured, they’d pick up Timothy and get the hell out of there. She no longer had a choice.
Another shot rang out and his adrenaline spiked. It had been a long delay from the second shot to the third. Was the man closing in on her? Had he gotten close enough to feel he could fire again? Where in the hell were the local authorities? There was some sort of fair going on; shouldn’t they be there for crowd control? He didn’t see a single blue in sight.
He was going as fast as he could while he scanned for her in all directions. Finally he broke through a group of people and the mass diminished. Most were now behind him. The faces he saw looked confused as if they had no idea what was going on. There were abandoned vendor booths and spilled drinks on the ground. Sweaters had been abandoned, and a purse was overturned in the center of the street. Safety was all anyone was thinking about.
Something caught his eye, just a glint, but it was enough. He spotted the gunman moving ahead, his eyes locked on something. He was trying to conceal the handgun in his coat but the barrel stuck out. He moved with purpose.
The man’s arm lifted and he shot again. Declan’s head whipped around and he spotted Angela. His heart stopped. The moment froze. She turned and looked right at her potential killer . . . but she wasn’t hit.
She ran and the rest of the people around did as well, all of them going in different directions. No one knew where the shots were coming from. Declan couldn’t unsheathe his weapon. It would only terrify the crowd more. He was in a suit, not a uniform, and they wouldn’t know who the bad guy was. He did the only thing he could. He shouted.
“Hey!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. The gunman stopped his aim and turned. Their eyes locked. Declan started running straight for him.
Chapter Eight
Angela’s blood had grown cold. There was no way to deny the shots were being fired at her. What made it even worse were all the people around. They were in imminent danger because of her. Four shots had been fired, and not one had hit her. She wasn’t sure if they’d landed in someone else instead. She wasn’t sure she’d forgive herself if that had happened.
She should’ve listened to Declan. He’d tried to get her to leave. If she hadn’t wandered off, none of these people would be in danger. There were elderly who couldn’t run, children who didn’t know what was happening, and strangers who were confused.
She didn’t know where to go. She wanted to lead the gunman away. She didn’t have a death wish, but she also didn’t want to live at the expense of others. She didn’t have time to think, to make a plan. Who was this? It wasn’t Mario Vasquez. She didn’t know who in the hell it was. All she knew was there was someone willing to take her life, and he truly didn’t care how many witnesses there were. He would shoot her and disappear again.
Angela ran toward the water. It might not be the safest move on her part, but it was away from the other people. Maybe she could lead him there and jump in. She could hold her breath for a really long time. That might be her best chance to save the people around and her own life.
It was so hard to think.
She was in shock and terrified. She’d been chased down by these guys, and that told her she wasn’t safe no matter where she went. Which meant her son wasn’t safe—and that was unacceptable.
She didn’t have time for those thoughts, though. She didn’t have time to panic or think about what she’d done wrong. A bullet could travel far faster than she could run, so she had to be smarter than the person shooting.
She moved ahead when she heard the shout. She didn’t turn, but it sounded like Declan. Hope filled her. If it was, she might have a chance. She kept moving as fast as she could. Every little sound made her blood turn to ice. She could barely breathe.
Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it pushing out her chest. She most likely looked like one of those cartoons where the heart was about to pop out of the skin. She didn’t care how she looked. She only cared about survival.
She tried to focus on what people were shouting as she passed them. Which direction were they going? Was the gunman right on her heels? It felt as if she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck. That thought brought tears to her eyes. She wouldn’t turn around; she knew if she did it might cost her life. So she kept on moving, and hoping, and praying.
This all felt as if it were taking hours, but she’d be surprised if less than five minutes had passed since th
e first shot rang out. Items were being dropped as the chaos increased. The word gun was shouted over and over again. With the sheer number of mass shootings over the past decade, she wasn’t surprised. This was something that should never occur. And this time it was all because of her.
Panic surrounded her. No one knew where to turn, where to go. She continued to move, but the crowd was unorganized. Everywhere she turned she ran into someone, and she was growing tired.
She shouldn’t have left Declan’s side. That was her one consistent thought. But maybe it still would’ve happened, and maybe he would’ve been killed. She couldn’t live with that either.
She moved forward and tripped over a dropped bag. As she fell to the ground, she almost hoped to get knocked out. At least she wouldn’t see her death coming.
Chapter Nine
As soon as Declan moved toward the shooter, the man turned and ran. Declan chased him for a minute then stopped. He was torn. He wanted this man, wanted him desperately, but he didn’t know if there was more than one person after Angela.
He looked toward the fleeing shooter then in the direction Angela had run. His gut told him to get to her and ensure she was safe, then try to find the man who’d made a huge mistake in going after her.
He was cursing himself because that man should never have come near her. He shouldn’t have taken the call and let her walk out the door. He shouldn’t have assumed his brother would trail behind her. He should’ve done his damn job and not let her out of his sight. And now he was having to live with that. But she’d be okay. He’d make damn sure of it.
He didn’t look at anyone as he searched the chaotic crowd, trying to find her. When he did, all the color in his face drained as his heart stopped for at least a full two seconds.