I couldn't hide the look of disgust on my face.
His leering smile turned upside down and a cold rage filled his eyes. "You're just another fucking cock-tease, aren't you? Goddamn it. Well guess what, Carly? I don't like to be teased. And if you want to keep this job, you're gonna have to start acting better."
I backed around the desk, trying to keep it between us, but he followed.
"Mitchell, I'm sorry. This is just all a bit much for me, I wasn't expecting-"
"Shut your mouth."
The man in front of me wasn't The Slug anymore. He was scary. Memories of another man turning on me flooded my brain and I felt the panic start to rise, threatening to paralyze me.
"Please, I'm sorry."
He rushed around and grabbed my arms. "If you don't shut up, I'll have to shut you up."
"Let me go."
"No. What are you going to do about it, cry?"
"Fuck off," I spat at him, frantic to escape.
"Don't you talk to me like that, you stupid fucking bitch." He reared back and slapped me hard across the cheek. His pinkie nail scraped my face on the follow-through and I stumbled hard into the bookcase.
The bottom shelf, apparently not secure to the back, tipped forward, spilling everything onto the floor around us. Including the box of tissues. The cell phone fell out and lay between our feet. For a long momen,t we were both frozen in place, Mitchell's arm still raised and my hand covering my cheek.
"The fuck is that?"
I didn't say a word.
"Holy shit," he said, eyes wild. "Are you some kind of narc? Goddamn it I knew you were trouble."
"Narc? No. What are you talking about?"
"I knew it. I fucking knew it. You're here to infiltrate my operation. Well, good job. But don't think I'm gonna let you out of here alive."
"I swear, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh no. The time of playing dumb is over, sweetheart. Do you have any idea who I am? What I can do to you?"
"Mitchell, please." I shifted my feet sideways, trying to keep my eyes on him while I planned my escape.
But he caught me by the throat, wrapping his fingers around my neck. "I'll fucking kill you, bitch."
As he squeezed, I struck out with my fingers and legs, moving without thinking, acting instinctively. It wasn't enough to make him let go, but he stumbled on something and we both went down in a heap. On the floor I kept it up, scratching and clawing him while I tried to push him away with my long legs.
Mitchell was stronger than he looked, though, and managed to keep a hold of me. He used a knee to batter my stomach, trying to force the air from my lungs and the fight from my limbs. For the second time in my life, I looked into the eyes of a man who meant to kill me and this time, I swore I'd die before I gave in.
I went for his eyes, nose, anything soft in reach. When my nail shoved into the corner of his eye, he howled and yanked one hand from my neck to rear back for a punch.
A loud sound came from outside, but I couldn't worry about that. Mitchell's fist connected with my face and my vision grayed out. My legs flailed, trying to get him away, even just long enough to regroup, but he didn't budge. His thumb covered my windpipe and pushed and my breath hitched.
"No!" I croaked, intending to shout, but unable.
"Shut the fuck-"
The invective died on his tongue as the door burst open.
Chapter Eight
The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life was Sam standing in the doorway, blood dripping from his hand that held a very large gun.
"Get the hell off of her and put your hands up."
"Who the-" Mitchell began.
"Don't talk. Up. Hands. Now, or I'll blow your head off." He adjusted his hands on the weapon in a way that showed he meant it.
Mitchell released me and I collapsed to the floor. He lifted his hands into the air and stepped closer to Sam.
"Stay right there."
"Sure, sure, buddy. Look, I don't know who you are, but this is just a misunderstanding between me and my employee here."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Clearly."
"Really, it's nothing. We just got a little out of control."
"So I see." Sam kept the gun trained on Mitchell but turned to look at me. "You okay, Carly?"
I nodded.
"Oh, you two know each other? Hey man, if she's your girl, I am sorry. Little slut just came onto me. I didn't know she was spoken for."
Sam's eyes narrowed and he lowered his gun. "Is that so?"
"Yeah, man. You know how these bitches are?" Mitchell chuckled, not seeing what I did in Sam's eyes.
"Uh-huh. I do know." He put his gun down on the desk and clapped a hand on Mitchell's shoulder. "And you're the only bitch I see here." Sam swung and punched the smaller man low on his chest.
Mitchell made a strange "whuff" sound and went down on one knee.
Sam looked over at me for a split second, but it was a second too long.
Mitchell rose up, using all of his weight to ram Sam. The men both went flying back against the open door. Then they were down on the floor and the desk hid them from my view. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed the closest blunt object – Mitchell's desk phone. I pulled it with me as I rounded the desk to find them wrestling.
When Sam was on the bottom, I lifted the phone over my head, yanking the wires from the wall. I used every bit of my strength to bring it down on the back of Mitchell's skull. I heard plastic crack and he collapsed down onto Sam.
I let go of the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. "Sam, are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said, shoving the unconscious man off of him. "You?"
"I think so."
"Nice save, baby. I was really trying not to kill that guy, but he wasn't making it easy."
"You heard everything?"
"Yeah. Hand me my gun, will you?"
I did, gingerly. He held it in one hand and used the other to pull a set of zip ties from his pocket. He trussed Mitchell up easily, and once it was done, stood up and put the weapon away.
"Hey," I said, smiling weakly. "You ought to try that on me sometime."
Sam barked out a laugh, looked at me with anguish in his eyes and folded me in a tight embrace. He was shaking and very sweaty.
"It's okay. I'm okay."
"God, Carly. I ran over here and couldn't get in. Had to break the front door down, which took forever. And then I couldn't hear anything. I thought he killed you."
I leaned my head back and looked into his eyes. "He didn't. You saved me."
"Yeah. And you saved me from a murder charge."
"Does that make us even?"
"Maybe."
"Sam, seriously…thank you."
He kissed the tip of my nose. "Thank me later. Let's get this waste of space out of here and get you home."
"What about the plan?"
"I'm working on some revisions."
I laughed. "Probably a good idea."
We walked out to the front and I saw the door was reduced to nothing but shards of glass on the floor. "I guess I don't have to ask why your arm is bleeding," I said.
"It's fine. Come on, you need some fresh air."
"What about Mitchell?"
"He's not going anywhere. Some bad ass bitch smacked him with a phone."
I smiled and tucked myself close to Sam as we stepped through the empty doorframe.
"My backup should be here any second. Let me do the talking, okay?"
I nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted. I barely registered a car with tinted window passing slowly down the street before looking up at Sam. "Anything you say, Officer Rollins."
"That's Detective Rollins, Carly. I'm a detective."
* * *
Late that night, Sam and I finally arrived back at my apartment. We'd both been interviewed for hours and I was expecting more to come, but the audio of Mitchell threatening me and whatever other evidence they found at the office seemed to mollify his colleagues enough t
o let us go home for a good night's sleep.
There was no conversation about whether or not Sam was staying over. We trudged to my bed and stripped down in a decidedly less sexy manner than the last time.
But once I was curled up in his arms under the covers, some of the horror faded away. I felt safe again, truly safe for maybe the first time ever. In my darkest moment, Sam had been there for me and we both came out a little worse for wear, but still walking.
"I can see you thinking again," he said softly.
"Lots to think about tonight."
"Mmhmm." Sam ran his fingers through my hair, tugging at the long dark strands in a soothing way. "But you can think tomorrow. For now, you need rest and lots of it."
"What about you?"
He kissed me lightly on the lips. "I've got everything I need. My girl, safe and naked, and a nice soft bed for the night."
I smiled at the thought of being his girl. We'd just met, but most couples don't go through as much together in years, let alone days. I wondered if the connection I felt from the second we met was fate. The universe or whatever bringing me the man I'd need to survive the danger I hadn't even known I was in. It was possible. But like Sam said, I could think about it later. For the moment, I was just going to enjoy his arms around me.
"Mmm," I said, snuggling in close. "Hey! Uh, what is that?" I looked at Sam with fake shock on my face.
"Sorry," he muttered. "My brain wants to sleep for twenty hours but other parts of me are wide awake."
"I noticed. Is that a gun in your pocket, Detective, or are you just happy to see me?"
He pointed to his slacks on the floor next to the bed. "No pants, no pockets."
I giggled. "Well, maybe I can stay awake for a few more minutes."
"Just a few?"
I rolled over on top of him, straddling his hips. "We'll see."
Sam smiled as his hands reached up to cup my bare breasts. "You are so beautiful."
"Shut up and kiss me," I said, lowering my mouth over his.
He did, soft, deep kisses that warmed me through and through. But it wasn't enough. I sat up again, wrapped my fingers around the base of his member.
"Carly, we don't have to…"
"I want to," I assured him. "I want something wonderful at the end of this terrible day." I squeezed him. "And this is just the wonderful thing for the job."
Sam chuckled. "Well, I'm not exactly prepared."
"I've got it." I pulled a packet from the nightstand drawer. "No more excuses. Make me forget, Sam," I pleaded while sheathing him. "Please."
He lifted me at the hips and slid inside slowly. His knees rose and I leaned back against his thighs, using my own to raise and lower myself at the perfect pace.
Sam kept his gaze locked on mine as he moved, fingers playing lightly over my skin, tracing lines of sweet warmth that coalesced and grew, building inside me.
"Yes," I said, letting go of everything except us. I was shocked when I felt myself reaching the pinnacle of pleasure so quickly, as if all the negative feelings in my body had been transformed through our love-making.
"I'm…I'm…"
"It's okay, baby," Sam said. "Come for me."
And so I did. For him, for me, for everything we'd been through.
He kept going for a few minutes, enjoying the languorous, dreamy slide of my exhausted body against his. And when Sam finally reached completion, he pulled me down for a long, deep kiss. Completely connected to him in every way, it was exactly what I needed.
We drifted off to sleep quickly, Sam's big arms holding me close to him.
The next mornin,g I went to sit up and found I was sore and tired to my bones.
"Damn," I said. "You'd think I was in a fight for my life yesterday."
Sam laughed next to me. "You don't always wake up making jokes, do you?"
"Of course."
"Ugh. That could be a deal-breaker."
"So you'll date a girl who gets you into fights with drug dealers, but not one who makes morning jokes?"
"Hell yeah. A man's got to draw the line somewhere." But as he pulled me back down into a hug, the look on his face was tender and sweet. "Wanna get another hour of shut-eye?"
"Sure," I said, but then my stomach growled loudly.
He raised his head and looked around, feigning confusion. "You got a cat in here somewhere?"
I laughed "Shut up."
"Got anything for breakfast?"
"Not really."
"Well then, tell that belly of yours to shut up for another couple of hours and I'll buy it something nice."
"Okay." I repeated his words, pretending to talk to my stomach.
"Oh god, she is a morning comedienne. Disgusting."
"And you're a morning idiot."
"Guilty as charged, ma'am."
I kneed him in the thigh and smiled. "Learning more about you every minute, Sam. What else should I know?"
"Ask me anything."
"Well, we covered my big secret, what are yours? Are you a spy? Married?"
"Nope and nope. Just a Narcotics Detective."
"You don't look old enough."
"I know. It's part of why I got chosen for the UC gig."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-nine."
"Wow, almost thirty. That's pretty old."
"It is not."
"Whatever you say, gramps."
"Be good, Carly."
"Or what?"
"Or-" his teasing was interrupted by yet another groan of hunger from my midsection. "Or I won't serve you breakfast in bed."
"Ooh, that would be wonderful. Can you cook?"
"Of course. Eggs, toast, potatoes, bacon. I can handle those."
"Sounds perfect. None of those things are in my refrigerator."
"Ah. Well, I can also handle shopping for and preparing them."
"If you're saying I can stay in bed for all of that, you really are my hero."
"Well, if that's what it takes." He kissed me and hopped out of bed.
I took a moment to admire the high roundness of his butt while he pulled some clothes on and then closed my eyes again.
"Keys?"
"In the bowl by the door. The big one opens downstairs, the other one my door."
"Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"I'll be right here," I promised.
"Try not to miss me too much."
"Get out of here and get my food, man!"
Sam laughed and walked out the door.
I sighed contentedly and drifted off. The sound of footsteps brought me around again.
"Sam, is that you? How long was I asleep for?"
The apartment was silent and I wondered if I'd dreamed it. I got up anyway, slipped into my robe and walked into the bathroom.
My eyes widened as I saw a face in there, covered in a ski mask. "What the-?"
I felt another body close behind me and a tiny prick of pain stung my neck.
"Huh," was the last sound I made before I sank to the floor as consciousness left my body.
Chapter Nine
When I was a kid, seven or eight maybe, I got stepped on in one of those ball pit things. I was dazed and buried in the brightly colored mire within seconds. I struggled to make my way back to the surface, but the balls were a strange combination of soft and hard, slick and heavy. It seemed like hours before my head popped up just in time to get yelled at for being "out of sight" of my parents.
Waking up fighting the effects of being drugged, in the trunk of a car, was a bizarrely similar feeling.
It was an odd memory to call up, but it helped keep the wave of panic about to crash over me at bay, at least for a moment.
It took a few minutes for me to clear the drug-induced fog in my brain and remember what happened. The last thing I remembered was laughing as Sam left my apartment to get some food and drifting off to sleep.
But somehow I ended up in the tiny space, jostled by every bump in the road; my well-padded body no help o
n the crappy city streets. Straining my eyes to see in the blackness that was only pierced by a sickly yellow light of indeterminate source.
A brief memory flashed. Standing in my bathrobe looking at a masked face. My hand flew reflexively to the back of my neck, a tiny spot of soreness where the needle had jabbed into me.
Right. I'd been abducted. That was bad. Very bad. Need to not focus on it right now bad. But Sam would save me, right? My hero, my cop, my lover. Except by the time he got back to my apartment, I'd have been long gone. I doubted the men who took me left a polite note of explanation with phone numbers and addresses.
I prodded at the walls of the trunk, trying to find a weapon or an escape plan or anything to keep me from falling apart completely. As long as I was trying, looking, everything could be fine.
A wrenching sob threatened to burst from my mouth but I choked it down, knowing once I started, I would never stop.
I took five deep breaths and then went back to my exploring. I cursed as my fingernail snagged in a corner, pulling a string and a bit of carpet with it as I yanked it back. I sucked on the sore tip and froze as the car slowed down. I could hear traffic all around, but no voices or animals. It occurred to me that we hadn't stopped moving once since I woke up. Which meant we had to be on a road with no traffic lights. Highway, or at least one of the parkways that led out of the center of the city. I shifted over to press my ear against the back of the trunk. As the car sped up and performed a series of twisty maneuvers, I decided we were definitely on the parkway. That was good news. It meant I wasn't too far from home.
I used to know this road like the back of my hand. Every Sunday afternoon, we had headed up to brunch. We'd laugh about our hangovers and tease each other about how bad the food would be. On those days, everything seemed perfect. I'd thought our whole lives would continue like that, and he – no. I couldn't think about him. Not the time or the place for that.
Anger at myself fueled me and I searched my mind for a solution. I'd seen a story on the local news once, about a girl who was kidnapped and stuffed in the trunk of a car too. She managed to disable a brake light and got the car pulled over. But I didn't even know where the brake lights were; let alone how to sabotage them.
I fumbled at where I thought the latch for the trunk would be, but there was nothing to hold onto. If I'd had a screwdriver or something maybe, but with bare hands and no light it was impossible, and my abductors hadn't been thoughtful enough to leave me a toolkit, either.
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