Lisie’s eyes were huge in the moonlight. “Yes.”
“Shit.” A map of this section of the pathway sprang to mind and her heart skipped a beat. The only way back was the way they’d come.
Grace glanced back again. No friendly jogger, no dog sniffing bushes. What had seemed so cheerful and refreshing was now threatening. Menace loomed thick in the air and she struggled to breathe.
“What should we do?” Lisie’s soft voice wouldn’t carry far, but Grace couldn’t help another backward look.
“I’m not—” Her toe caught on uneven pavement and she flung her hands out to break her fall.
“Mon dieu!”
That hadn’t been soft. Grace’s knees slammed into the unforgiving surface, then her hands. She gasped at the pain.
“Drop and roll,” she hissed at Lisie. Ignoring the sting, she flattened to the blacktop and rolled into the deep shadows between the path and river. She came to a stop alongside a tree trunk, rolled smoothly into a sitting position and shimmied behind the tree, thankful she’d chosen a black outfit.
Lisie followed seconds later, hitting a nearby tree with a little too much force. She sucked in a breath, glanced around, and crawled over to join her—blessedly silent in the underbrush.
Her heart pounded like a drumbeat and their combined breathing sounded overloud in the quiet night. Straining to hear, she pressed into the harsh bark. Seconds ticked by. Grace met Lisie’s gaze and made a downward motion with her hand at the same time she slowly exhaled in an attempt to calm. Lisie nodded. Gradually, the hammering of her heart receded and her breathing pattern settled.
Sounds emerged. Tree branches rustled overhead. Wings beat the air and a whip-poor-will’s quick chirrupy call made her jump. The bushes rustled. She stared hard into the darkness shrouding the path. A shadow shifted, separated from one then melded into another.
Oh, God. Holy mackerel, trout and salmon. Her heart tried to gallop off into the night without her, but she forced herself to remain still. Lisie grabbed her hand and they clung tightly to each other. They needed to slip away without alerting their stalker.
A sound caught her ear. A whirring. Like…Yes! A light appeared at the curve in the path, and she could just make out the shape of a cyclist headed their way. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.
Grace bit the inside of her cheek. She could clearly see the rider now. A big hulking guy, hunched low over the handlebars of his sleek bicycle. The breeze moaned through the trees, parting them for a split second to reveal a man across the path. He rose from a crouch, dressed in solid black with a large stick in his hand.
Her gaze flew back to the cyclist. What would he do? A stick to the spokes? Club the guy across the face? Her gaze darted between the two. She bit down harder on the inside of her cheek. The metallic taste of blood trickled across her tongue.
She made a quick decision, pried her hand free of Lisie’s and darted out of hiding with a cry that would have done a screech owl proud.
The cyclist swore and swerved. Straight toward the man in black. The moon glinted off his eyes. He was staring straight at her. Ice slid down her spine. One step in her direction, then two, set him on a collision course with the big cyclist.
“Hey!” the guy shouted.
Too late. He slammed into the man in black and they crashed to the ground. A tangle of limbs and bicycle. Curses and grunts filled the air.
Grace spun and gestured wildly at Lisie. As soon as her feet hit the path, she grabbed her hand again and bolted. The paved path flew beneath her sneakers and the cold night air stung her cheeks. Not daring to look back, cringing against a hard tackle that didn’t come, she stretched her legs and ran as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did.
She rounded a curve in the path, then another. Lisie was panting for air, but doggedly keeping up, despite her shorter legs. The dim lights of their condominium complex loomed light years in the distance.
Grace glanced over her shoulder, past Lisie’s pale, frightened face, and caught a flash of something between the trees. Not daring to stare too long and risk tripping again, she spun back around. What she’d seen clarified her suspicion. He’d swiped the guy’s bicycle and was chasing them.
A rush of fear-laced adrenaline lent her a burst of speed. She was practically dragging Lisie. So close. They breached the complex perimeter, but didn’t slow. Their running feet on the stairs reverberated like thunder in the quiet night. At the first landing she dared a glance out into the shadows on the path. The bike’s headlamp had disappeared.
Her throat closed. He could be anywhere. A quick look back showed an empty stairwell. Somehow that failed to reassure her.
On the last set of stairs, she released Lisie’s hand and fumbled her key out of the zippered placket of her running shorts. The key slipped free of her clammy fingers and thumped to the hallway floor. Scanning the hall, she scooped it up and shoved it into her dead bolt. Lisie pressed close, patting hands at her back in a silent urge for speed.
A shadow moved in the stairwell. She sobbed in frustration and wrenched the door open.
Lisie scrambled in so close behind they nearly tripped over one another’s feet, and Grace slammed the door so hard the pictures along the wall shifted. Shaking and light-headed, she slid the locks home then pressed her ear to the panel.
At first, she couldn’t hear anything beyond the mad rush of blood through her veins and her own panting. Then a soft footstep stole her ability to draw air.
“Soc au lait!” Lisie hissed. “What you doin’?”
Grace flapped her hand at her to be quiet. Another, the slide of a shoe against the floor outside her door. Her knees tried to give out, but she jerked upright and stared at the door. Evil oozed around the door frame. She stepped back. The floor creaked beneath her feet. A low, husky chuckle from the other side. The door seemed to vibrate in its frame. A shiver broke her trance and she snatched the phone off its base.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Matt groaned and rolled over to glare at the clock. 11:00 pm blinked back at him in highlighter yellow. Damn. He’d just drifted off. The phone rang again. He winced and snatched it off the nightstand.
“Yeah?” he rumbled, voice scratchy.
“Matt.” The whisper of Grace’s fear drifted through the phone.
He sat bolt upright. “Grace?”
“He’s here. Please.” Something thudded and she whimpered. A soft, distant “mon dieu” reached his ear. “How fast can you get here?”
“You’re at home?” Matt tossed back the covers, adrenaline flooding his veins.
“Yes.”
“I’m on my way, sweetheart.” Zipping up his pants, he fought to keep the tension out of his voice. “Are you alone?”
“Lisie is here.”
The tiny Cajun looked like a stiff wind would blow her away, but it was something. “Hang up and call the police.”
Silence greeted his order. Damn, this was not the time for her to pout over him being bossy. He jerked the phone away, yanked a T-shirt on, and brought it back to his ear.
“Baby…”
“I think he’s gone.”
Shoving his feet into loafers, he stuffed his wallet in his pocket, snagged his keys off the hall table and slammed the front door behind him. Thankfully, she’d called his cell.
“You can’t be sure. Call the police.” His powerful truck engine rumbled to life. Without giving the diesel time to warm up, he jerked the gearshift into drive and roared out of his driveway. “Grace?”
“I’m here.” Her voice trembled, the unusual vulnerability killing him. “He’s gone, I know it.”
She was so damn stubborn. The tires squealed as he took a corner too fast. At this time of night, the streets were deserted and the lights were helpful enough to click to green at his approach.
“There’s no way you can know.” His gut clenched. He hated to scare her further, but… “He could be waiting outside for you to peek out or looking for another way in or jimmying your locks.�
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She whimpered. Damn. He was such an asshole. White-knuckling the steering wheel, he tore around another corner and into her parking lot. He stood on the brakes and the big truck shuddered to a stop, the anti-lock system objecting.
Without bothering to pull into a spot, he threw the diesel into park, jumped out and ran for Grace’s building. No one crossed his path, and he didn’t see anybody lurking in the shadows. At Grace’s door, he gulped air and pounded on the door. Probably should’ve knocked more politely, considering the time of night and her terror, but the protectiveness roaring through him left no room for manners.
“Grace, it’s me.”
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he listened for noise on the other side. Silence. His gut tightened and he glanced to either end of the hallway. The hair on the nape of his neck rose, but he didn’t see anyone. Which didn’t mean no one was there, watching from some circumspect hiding spot. The slide of Grace’s locks brought him back around. She must walk like a cat. He hadn’t heard a sound.
The door opened and Grace stood silhouetted by the hallway light. The room behind her was dark. Her face was pale and her gaze wary as she glanced past him.
“There’s no one out here, sweetheart.” He dragged his thumb lightly over her cheek. “Let’s get you inside, though, just in case.”
Her lower lip trembled. She stepped back. He threw a final narrowed look up and down the hallway, fisting his hands against the violence running through him, wishing the perv would step into view, then closed and locked the door. Shutting the door blocked off the light and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust.
Grace stood directly in front of him, her eyes big and luminous in the pale oval of her face. A sparkly tear slid down her cheek. Might as well have been a punch to his gut.
“Aw, baby.” Matt tugged her close, wrapping his arms around her. She trembled and burrowed closer. After the wild drive over, it was so damn good to hold her. To reassure himself that she was safe and sound. He edged toward the couch without releasing her. When he tried to pull back, she whimpered. So he sat with her wrapped around him like an octopus on steroids. There were worse things.
Lisette was a pale, tiny ball burrowed into the far corner of the couch, her face swallowed by enormous dark eyes. They exchanged a long, silent look.
He rubbed his chin against the top of Grace’s head, soft strands of her hair catching in his stubble. “Tell me.”
She curled up on his lap. Oh yeah, he could get used to this.
“Grace.” He nudged her chin up with his knuckle. “What happened?”
She shivered and ducked her face into the crook of his neck. Her breath washed over his skin and goosebumps rose. Which, in turn, roused very friendly parts of his anatomy.
Not the time, buddy.
She mumbled something into his neck, which he understood exactly zero of.
“What?”
With obvious reluctance, Grace pulled back a little and rested her head on his shoulder. Which he was also okay with, as was junior. Especially when she wriggled her soft hip deeper into his crotch.
Down, boy.
She sighed. “I went jogging an hour ago.”
Matt glanced at the glowing digital display on her DVD player. 11:15. He squeezed her and sighed. “Baby, I know you hate when I boss you, but seriously? Some guy breaks into your home, your car and your office, and you decide jogging in the dark is a good idea? Come on. You’re smarter than that.”
“Apparently not.” Some of her typical sass colored her tone. Reassuring, that. “Since I did go running. In the dark. Like a total and utter moron. I had a too-stupid-to-live moment, okay? Like the blonde bimbo in slasher movies.”
Matt chuckled and tangled his fingers in the silky curls tickling his forearm. He rubbed a strand between his thumb and forefinger. “Hey, you were smart enough not to go alone.”
She nodded and stretched her hand toward Lisie, who wriggled closer and grasped the proffered hand. “I’m not sure that really was smart. I put my friend in danger.”
“No, sug. It wasn’t your fault.” Lisie’s voice was soft and breathy with the remnants of fear, but firm. “I’m glad ya weren’t alone.”
“She’s right, sweetheart.” He met Lisie’s gaze over Grace’s head and nodded his approval. “So you were jogging…”
“We were fine for a while, enjoying the quiet night, the chill in the air—”
Lisie snorted. “Speak for ya’self. My thighs were screamin’ objections and I’m pretty sure I swallowed a moth.”
Their laughter was tinged slightly with hysteria. Matt rubbed Grace’s back.
“Then…I don’t know. I got creeped out. I kept hearing someone behind me, but I couldn’t see anyone. I ran faster. Then I tripped, like a total klutz. I was so scared. We were so scared.” She scooted closer and her breast pressed into his chest.
“F’sho.” Lisie nodded.
This had to be the most horrifying, erotic story he’d ever endured. The rest poured out of her in rapid-fire staccato speech he strained to digest over the pounding of his pulse.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Matt enjoyed the simple act of holding her, but there were issues to be addressed.
“As much as I love that you called me first, you shouldn’t have. You have to get over this aversion to the police. It’s their job, even if the guy is long gone. At the very least, they’ll have a good look around and make sure he really is gone.”
Lisette nodded emphatically. Grace sighed and relaxed a little, her body molding to his in a very distracting way. “I know. It’s just…” A shudder shook her. “When I was twelve, a policeman picked me up to take me to a new foster home. Instead of going straight there, he pulled into a deserted parking lot. And he…um…did things.”
“Oh, baby.” Nausea and anger coiled tight in his gut, but he kept his touch gentle, stroking up and down her arms.
Lisette mumbled something that sounded like a mix of French swear words and Voodoo curses, and patted Grace’s hand, which she had yet to release. He couldn’t believe he was fighting an erection while sharing the couch with a strange woman. Threesomes weren’t his thing, even if Lisette did have a unique sort of fae beauty about her.
Grace ducked her head beneath his chin, bringing the fragrance of her shampoo close. “I never told. He didn’t, you know, penetrate me or anything. I haven’t trusted the police since. Besides, the boys in the foster homes were always teasing and tormenting me, trying to scare me with bugs and snakes and frogs. I learned not to react and to hide my fear.” She shrugged. “I guess some habits become so ingrained it’s pretty difficult to fight upstream against them.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. So very sorry.”
“I imagine brothers would act the same way. I had plenty of food, clean clothes and attended good schools. The adults were very kind and caring.”
Matt bit his tongue. Kind and caring were a poor substitute for the love of parents. Besides, she was desperately trying to divert the topic from what had happened with the slime- bucket policeman. She showed poise and maturity in her acceptance of her childhood, and he admired the heck out of her for it. His brother had grown up in a loving, safe home and he hadn’t turned out half as well. Just went to show people determined their life’s path, no matter what their upbringing.
“F’sho,” Lisette did more hand-patting. “My brothers still tease me somethin’ fierce. Isn’t no excuse for the police, though.”
Matt firmed his lips to keep them shut.
Grace sat up and met his eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, Matt. Don’t even go there.”
He settled his hand on the curve of her hip and raised a brow. “Really?”
Even in the poorly lit room, color flooded her cheeks.
“That’s not…”
Lisette’s light, lilting laugh flashed heat into his own face. For a second there, caught in the depths of Grace’s eyes, he’d forgotten they had an audience.
Their audien
ce hopped up from the couch. “Dat’s my cue to head home. It’s time to make dodo anyhow.”
“I’ll walk you home.” He slid Grace’s behind onto the cushion, immediately missing soft heat, and rose. Lisette opened her mouth, to no doubt object, and he arched his brow. One of her delicate eyebrows winged upward and sass sparked to life in her dark eyes.
She pursed her lips. “Dat’s probably a good idea. Dawlin’, I’ll see you tomorrow. Holler if ya need me.”
He was surprised by her easy acquiescence, if grateful. One stubborn woman was his quota. The women shared a quick, hard hug. Grace’s lower lip trembled, but she schooled her expression before plopping back down on the couch. She was unnaturally subdued, and he may have been slightly rude as he hurried her friend across the hall and into her condo.
Lisette turned just inside the door and planted her hands on her hips. “You be good to her, ya hear? Life ain’t been no bed o’ roses for dat girl.”
It was like being scolded by a dark-haired Tinkerbell. Matt fought to keep his lips from twitching. He doubted she’d respond well. “Yes, ma’am.”
She scowled at him, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement. “I know you wanna rush back ta Grace. Go on, git.”
The door slammed in his face and he “got.” Grace slumped against the couch, none of her normal spark to be seen. He frowned and scooped her back into his lap. Much better. The way she melted against him made his heart clutch.
“You doing okay?”
She shrugged.
“Hey.” He tugged on a lock of her hair until she looked at him, then stroked his thumb back and forth across her earlobe. “Talk to me.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
He pushed aside the thoughts and feelings still shifting uncomfortable beneath his skin because of her earlier revelation and focused on the moment. On the pleasure of a lapful of soft sweet woman. Throw in the look she was giving him and a guaranteed conflagration of lust wasn’t a stretch.
Working hard to keep in mind her recent fright, he pulled her closer, until they shared the breath between them. A shaft of moonlight spilled in, silhouetting the curve of her eyebrows, her straight nose, and the long lashes framing her green eyes. Then those lashes fluttered down and she closed the remaining distance.
Dying for Love Page 10