Under Control

by Zoë Normandie

  She found the door handle of the SUV as they came to a stop at a red light. Her mind raced as she tried to silently talk herself into doing what she had to do. She had to bolt, to get away. There were trees right beside where they were. She could jump into them and run. She knew the parks better than anyone. She could find a way to escape.

  But she wavered, blinking rapidly to hide unwanted tears.

  As the tires slowly rolled to a stop, Carrick flexed his shoulders, and he let out a deep breath as he surveyed the area, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t look impressed. In fact, he looked concerned. Then he was reaching back into his waistband as he craned his neck to look around.

  It seemed he had good instincts. The same dark car that had watched her at the skating rink skidded to a halt in front of the truck, blocking them at the vacant traffic light.

  “God!” She flinched, terror driving her to the breaking point.

  Carrick reached across her lap and put his hand over her in what seemed like a natural movement of defense. With his wide body, he shielded her from threat. As he pulled a pistol out of his pants, their driver revved the truck’s engine, sending a clear threat to the dark sedan blocking them.

  “Get us the fuck out of here!” Carrick roared.

  Danica could see through the tinted glass that the driver up front had his pistol in hand as well. Without pause, he hit the gas, screeching the tires. In immediate response, the dark sedan blocking them whirled out of the way, preventing a collision.

  Her heart thumped rapidly, threatening to break through her chest. She refused to let those tears fall from her eyes, pursing her lips and tightening her body to encourage some semblance of self-control.

  As silence engulfed the back seat, the SUV drove several miles down the road, darting in and out of side streets. Exhaling low, Carrick finally put his pistol back into his waistband, continuing to study everything surrounding the truck. And for a man who felt as cold as mercury, she sensed an anger within him. A fire. A hunger.

  Danica looked at Carrick again, assessing his behavior, his intentions. Actions speak louder than words. Carrick had instinctively protected her—ferociously and without question. He’d thrown his body in the way.

  “Carrick…what do you want from me?” Danica finally breathed out, realizing there was a lot more to his story.

  “What do you want me to say, Dani?” Something flashed in his eyes, warning her. “I think you already know what’s going on here.”

  Carrick’s stare bored into her, seeming to observe her unease. She knew she really had to collect herself.

  His voice grew low and daring, pushing her. “Is there going to be a problem?”

  She heard his question as—are you going to be a problem?

  She instinctively drew back. “No.”

  That seemed to be exactly what he’d wanted to hear. A tension rose in her throat at the sight of him leaning toward her, challenging her. She raised her hands to cross across her chest, as if holding herself together.

  He observed this, amused. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me.”

  The entire world grew silent. She realized how close his body was to hers, how close his face was. He licked his full bottom lip, his gaze assessing her mouth.

  I need to run.

  She was frozen under his stare, her mind spinning. He was pure masculinity, and the very pheromones that poured off him sent warning alarms up and down her body. He was the most dangerous man she’d ever met, but not for the reasons she’d once thought.

  Run.

  As if he could hear her inner thoughts, an emotionless smirk ran up one side of his rugged mouth, framing straight white teeth. He had the mouth of a man determined to take what he wanted. And that was when she knew without a doubt that he wanted her. She wondered if he was going to kiss her.

  Please, let me go.

  Before either of them could lean together, the tinted glass rolled down in between the front and back seats. The driver leaned back to talk to Carrick.

  “I think we shook them,” he stated firmly, and Carrick nodded back.

  Carrick turned to her, commanding. “It’s time to shut this party down. Time to get you home.”

  “You can let me out here,” she suggested, not wanting any more of his VIP service or to expose herself any further.

  “No,” Carrick responded, dismissing her immediately.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Danica replied quickly. “I’m not far from home.”

  He cocked his head sardonically. “Are you crazy? Aside from the fact you have no shoes, I couldn’t allow you to walk home alone now without knowing who the hell is behind this. I don’t care how close by you live.”

  As the SUV turned off the parkway into her neighborhood, she realized they probably already knew where she lived. None of this had been a coincidence. Danica closed her eyes briefly, feeling the rumblings of the engine as the SUV wound its way around her block. What the hell am I supposed to do?

  One thing was for sure. Danica had run out of options—and she only had herself to blame. The only choice she had then was to wait until her feet hit the pavement again, find a moment alone and run—run like her life depended on it and start over again somewhere else.

  “Okay, take me home.” She turned her chin to him. “You already know where I live, don’t you?”

  He flickered his eyes at her, his discontent palpable.

  After a moment of thought, he finally let out, “Look… There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Chapter Four

  Danica

  Danica shifted in the back seat under Carrick’s gaze as the truck rolled down her street.

  “What do you need to tell me?” she whispered, knowing that time was running out.

  He reached up, rubbing his chin, definitely deep in thought. She noticed how he looked out of the window, his eyes locking on to her three-story historic brownstone down the street.

  Nodding at the house coming closer into view, he replied, “Let’s talk in there.”

  It was a beautiful million-dollar home among a stretch of them in the urban neighborhood. However, what wasn’t immediately obvious was the fact that the home was divided into several separate rental apartments and none were all that luxurious inside. The rent was astronomical, and the finishes were dated, but the setup capitalized on young professionals who were trying to find their way in the world.

  Danica and her roommate Addie were young women who couldn’t afford to buy houses and cars, so they’d opted to live urban, close to transit. A nature lover, Danica didn’t mind being without a vehicle and spent much of her time walking. There were worst places to be forced into that situation than San Francisco. There was something that had always been so appealing about being on her own two feet, grounded and steady. She felt the earth below her, making her feel safe, as though in an instant she could escape to wherever she needed to go.

  And not having a driver’s license kept her safely off the grid.

  The armored SUV rolled quietly to a stop on the side of the street, about five houses down from her apartment. The driver turned off the engine and lights, staying still while watching the dark, silent neighborhood. Wasting no time, Carrick held on to Danica’s hand and slid her across the leather SUV back seat behind him. The way he moved her body was unapologetic and determined—and again, she let him.

  She followed him like she’d never followed anyone before, secretly enjoying how he reached across her body to grab her discarded thick gray sweater, throwing it over his shoulder.

  Once he had slid them out of the back seat, Carrick reached down and picked her up in his strong arms—without asking. He acted like her socked feet were never going to touch the ground on his watch. Like a guardian, he looked around, holding her tight against his hard chest, carrying her like a princess. Danica gasped, realizing that the man really did what he wanted, and now he was doing something he really didn’t have to do.

  “You don’t…”
she sputtered as Carrick carried her down the sidewalk.

  “Yes, I do,” he said, tightening his grip.

  As she let herself relax into his arms, a screaming voice at the back of Danica’s head reminded her to ignore how good it felt. She needed to reject her desire to curl up and sink into the protection he was offering.

  There is always a catch.

  Finally, Carrick stopped in front of her apartment, seeming to take a second to assess the brownstone before them. Once he was seemingly satisfied, he grunted, “Got your keys?”

  He waltzed them up the five-step porch staircase while she fumbled for her keys in her pocket. As soon as she had them out, he took them, as natural as could be. With one arm, he unlocked the exterior door like he’d lived there for years, moving them into the small foyer that had three more doors for different apartments.

  “Now, let’s talk,” he said, putting her down, briefly gazing up at the large painting hanging in the foyer.

  She found the dated, packed carpet underneath her, grounding her back in the reality of her life. She backed up, trying to understand him.

  “You said you are here to help me. What does that mean?” she asked, knowing it was now or never.

  “Well, Dani, I was asked to come find you,” he explained, his eyes locked on her every move, sending chills up her spine, “and I have.”

  “And?” She crossed her arms, sinking back, determined to stay strong. “Who asked you to do this?”

  “Your father.”

  Danica’s mouth dropped open.

  “Have you told him where I am?” She couldn’t hold back the tone of desperation and fear in her voice.

  The pure terror.

  “Yes.”

  Winded, she took a step back, falling into anything that could help her find stability. She searched the man before her, trying to figure out what the hell his game was.

  “Are you scared of him?” Carrick asked, watching her as she stepped farther away from him. “Will he hurt you?”

  She bit her lip, unable to resist doing so. That was not something she was prepared to admit to. Her heart sank with the reality she faced and the need to uproot herself yet again. She dropped her gaze and shook her head. How many new identities would she have to fake before she could finally just get away?

  “Talk to me,” Carrick commanded. There was nothing soft in his voice.

  But Danica didn’t want to tell him anything.

  “Are you going to leave me?” She regretted the words as she said them, and immediately felt the pain of being exposed.

  “Only if you are safe,” he assured, but then demanded more from her. “You need to tell me— Are you scared of him?”

  Danica pressed her eyes shut momentarily. She couldn’t tell him all of it. Never, not once, had she told anyone the truth about what that man had done to her, so she bit her tongue, holding her silence.

  “I can’t take action if I don’t have answers.” He pushed on, giving her the chance to speak. “All you have to do is tell me what’s really going on.”

  Danica opened her eyes and shook her head as she counted the threads on the carpet beneath her socked feet. She was too ashamed to look up and face Carrick.

  Changing the tone, he shifted his weight and leaned against the wall with her. As she looked through the top of her lashes, she realized he was focused on the painting behind her in the foyer, observing and considering. She turned toward the complex piece of artwork with its bright, vivid colors that loosely depicted a perfect female form wrapped in bright green vines.

  “That’s stunning.”

  “Thanks.” Danica looked back up into Carrick’s stormy eyes and tried to breathe.

  He raised an eyebrow. He was clearly intrigued. “You painted that?”

  “Yes,” she replied softly, shier than ever. “The foyer needed some life.”

  “You’re talented…very talented.” Carrick nodded approvingly, looking back and forth between the nude female form and Danica.

  A hot flush hit her cheeks, and it wasn’t just from coming into a warm building from the cold night.

  “She looks imprisoned by those vines. Is that the case?” His gaze shot to her more intensely.

  He was analyzing her, looking for the deeper meaning. And he was right, so she nodded. As he cocked his head, further studying what she’d painted, Danica couldn’t help but explain.

  “The natural world plays a big part in my life.”

  “There’s much more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there?” he asked quietly, in a low, smooth voice. “I like that.”

  She shivered as his words spilled over her. He saw her. He was seeing her. The look in his eye continued to reveal a curious man, interested in learning all her secrets. And she so wanted to confide in him—the first person who had ever made her feel like that in a long, long time.

  Looking at one of the doors to the rental units in the hall, right behind where she stood, he continued, “And you live with someone?”

  “Yes, my friend.” Her gaze flitted to her locked apartment door, which opened to a staircase leading up to her flat. She could never let him in. Never.

  Even so, words continued to pour out against her will. “She’s out for the night. It’s… Valentine’s Day, after all.”

  She clamped down on her tongue after she’d said it, regretting whatever it suggested. She was being an idiot. What would he think? She needed to stop…

  “And what about you?” He leaned back, continuing to assess. The deep baritone of his questions—his apparent need to understand—planted something inside her that felt like a hot coil. “No boyfriend?”

  “Are you really asking me that?”

  He smirked, leaning a little closer. “Maybe.”

  “I don’t date,” she squeaked out, embarrassed at the truth. She looked down at her shoeless feet, frumpy and unpolished.

  “You don’t…date?” He laughed genuinely, natural and smooth. He had a rich, warm, hearty laugh, as he continued his questioning. “You mean to tell me that you don’t date?”

  The concept apparently seemed unbelievable to him, and he appeared highly amused.

  She stood still, frozen.

  “You must be delusional,” Carrick concluded, shaking his head. “Or deeply religious—or both.”

  She crossed her arms tightly, trying to steady herself.

  “Look… I think we should talk about what you are planning on doing now that you’ve found me. That’s what matters here—not whether or not I’m dating.”

  He drew his teeth across his lip, something dangerous twinkling in his eye, as he looked her up and down slowly for the hundredth time. He reached out his thick hand and tilted her chin up toward him. He was still close to her and she was aware of his warm breath and his heat. Against her better judgment, she let her eyes connect with his and sink into his intensity. And she obediently tilted her chin up to match his great height.

  “You undersell yourself.”

  “You don’t know anything about me,” she said to reject his words—reject everything that threatened her narrative.

  “I know what I see.”

  What does he see? She parted her lips as she fell further into his darkly lashed, deep blue gemstone eyes. Sapphires in a storm.

  He ran his hand up her throat, gripping her jaw and angling it, seemingly to get a better look at her. She obeyed as he moved her, revealing how much she was growing to love when he touched her like that. The intensity in his gaze was startling. It was clear he wanted to know her secrets.

  “You have to trust me,” he ordered, focusing intently on her. “You have to tell me what’s really going on.”

  She tried to shake out of his spell, stiffening her spine. “I can’t.”

  Her words left a faint echo in the foyer.

  “Then there’s nothing I can do.” He pulled back and let his hand drop from her face.

  He gave her a second to change her mind, but she couldn’t. None of his rapport-buildi
ng had made a difference. She wasn’t going to tell him what he wanted to hear—because she just couldn’t.

  Carrick let out a seemingly frustrated breath and turned back to the door. Everything in Danica’s heart ached as he moved to leave. It shouldn’t be like this. With a quick nod goodbye, he disappeared out of the door, leaving her behind.

  Alone.

  Crushed, she leaned against the foyer wall then fell to the floor in her socked feet. For a minute or two, she just closed her eyes and rubbed her hands over her face. Finally, she decided to get up and make a move.

  Then everything fell apart.

  The front door whipped open, but instead of hearing the welcome voice of Carrick once again, an unwelcome, familiar paternal voice echoed through the foyer, filling her with unparalleled fear.

  “Dansa,” an aging man wheezed as he walked in. “I have been looking for you for too long. You will not disobey me again.”

  Chapter Five

  Carrick

  Madder than an angry dog, Carrick leaned on the armored SUV with his elbow on Delta’s driver-side window. He maintained a strong silence while watching events unfold before his and his partner’s eyes—events he’d never planned to see.

  About five houses down, a couple of stubby bouncer-type guys with dark suits stood at the sidewalk leading up to Danica’s apartment. They’d locked it down because Carrick’s client was inside—talking to his daughter.

  It didn’t feel right. Nothing about it felt right. It took everything in Carrick’s power not to force his way back into that situation.

  “I didn’t take this ‘search and rescue’ contract thinking it would end up in ‘hostage rescue’.” Carrick finally broke the silence in a low, critical tone.

  Delta nodded, sitting in the driver’s seat beside Carrick, gripping the wheel of the SUV tightly. The engine was off, but both men were flexed and ready to make a move if they had to. Carrick’s feet, firmly planted on the cold concrete of the road below, felt the rumbling of distant traffic in the urban residential community.