Absolute Zero (Touch of Frost)

by Rush, Lynn

  “Might be a good idea,” Scott said. “Tomorrow maybe you could drive down and meet up with him.”

  Crap.

  “Or not. Maybe Jasmine can just keep a close eye on him. Or, Scott, you could mention it to him instead of making Mandy talk to her ex-boyfriend like that,” Georgia said.

  “Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Mandy. I can do that for ya,” Scott said.

  Sometimes guys were just…dense.

  I sent my sweet sister a quick smile of thanks for having my back the way she did. I so did not want to go talk to Zach about things. I had kind of hoped he’d stay out of my line of sight for a while. I got all confused when I saw him. And mad. And cold.

  “He and that ditz of a girlfriend have been into the store a couple times. What’s up with that?” Jasmine asked.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “That B always asks if you’re working, too.” Jasmine shook her head.

  Boy, I would love to frost that Samantha over a good one. But why was Zach going along with that kind of crap? He wasn’t cruel like that.

  “Back to keeping Zach safe,” I said.

  Jasmine sat up and cleared her throat. “I really think Andrey’s just sniffing around, looking for you two. Obviously he doesn’t know where you are, otherwise he would have tried to take you.”

  “Georgia, too.”

  “Right. And, I’m thinking that he knows you and Zach are dating, or were, and once he finds out you guys are no longer connected, meaning, once he sees that blond bimbo hanging on him and you’re not around, he’ll get tired and leave.”

  “But Scott’s right there. What if he tries to grab Scott?” Georgia asked.

  “You think I’m going to let that happen? I’m faster than Andrey, remember?” Jasmine huffed. “No way he’s getting his steely hands on my guy.”

  Scott reached over and rested his hand on the nape of Jasmine’s neck. Jasmine’s oath to protect my brother rang loud in my memory, but my stomach churned with fear. Unless it was the garlic mashed potatoes I ate with my steak.

  “You sure we shouldn’t bolt?” My voice cracked again. Damn I hated sounding weak.

  “You two stay up where you are. Do the college thing, but keep your eyes open.” Scott steered the car toward our apartment. “Jas and Jess will keep working on things on our end. Watching out for what Andrey’s got in mind.”

  “Why aren’t we planning how we can kill that son of a bitch?” My eyes burned, and my heart hammered.

  “Who says we aren’t?” Jasmine cocked her eyebrow up.

  “What?” I grabbed the back of Scott’s seat and pulled myself forward, Georgia doing the same with Jasmine’s seat. “Really?”

  “Need to find out more about the situation. He might lead us to the mobile Centers. Or he might be working alone. We just need more intel.” Jasmine smiled. “And I seem to remember you being sick of running away, right?”

  I was, more than anything, I was.

  But my mother’s murderer was back, and everyone I loved was in danger once again.

  Chapter 23

  “Wow. You’re pretty strong, Mandy,” Nate said, as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I think you’re going to crush the ball if you hit it any harder.”

  I sucked in a deep breath. Sweat poured down my back. “I’m liking this racquetball thing. Never played before.”

  “You’re doing pretty darn well.”

  “I’m a quick study. Plus, anytime I can crush something like I get to crush that little blue ball I’m all good.” I’d just been imagining Samantha’s head on the ball each time. And Andrey’s.

  “It’s good for working out the aggression, that’s for sure.” He tossed me the ball. “Okay, serve it up. It’s got to be past the center line there, remember.”

  “I keep forgetting that. But hey, I got one point off you last game!”

  I slid the protective glasses up my nose and dribbled the ball on the floor again. My shoes squeaked as I turned and bent over. My legs burned. My lungs flamed. And my arm ached, but I loved it. Smacking a ball around a little box with Nate sure was fun.

  The snap of the ball hitting the wall echoed as I served it up. I faced forward. The ball whizzed by me, heading toward the corner. Nate was good at hitting those pocket shots. I darted forward and flicked my wrist, barely nicking the ball. It grazed the front wall. Nate thundered toward the wimpy shot, his shoes squeaking against the shiny floor. I wasn’t sure how he got that far so quickly, but he did and, of course, smacked the ball hard and away from me.

  “Oh man.” I darted back, chasing after the ball.

  I didn’t really understand how to hit the ball hard against the back wall to get it up front. I’d only had one class for PE so far and read the rules. But hey, I’d give it a try. I flicked my wrist, and the strings of my racquet made contact.

  With considerable force, I might add.

  The ball torpedoed off the back wall and right at my face. I ducked, and it missed me by a millimeter. I screeched, dropped to the ground, and rolled to the side, then popped up to my feet. The blue ball streaked toward the front wall, bounced off and right past Nate.

  He stood frozen, watching me with wide eyes.

  “What?” I stood straight and ripped off my glasses. “Is that a foul or something?”

  “Ah, no. That’s a great shot.” He stepped toward me.

  “Oh, good. Why didn’t you go after it?”

  “Never thought you’d get it.” His eyebrows arched. “You sure you never played this before?”

  “Nope. Just read the rules on Monday during the first class and here we are. Why?”

  “Because you’re packing some serious power in your little wrist snaps there.” His lips curved into a sweet smile. Sweat dribbled down the side of his face and ringed around his armpits. Sure, most people would probably view that as pretty gross, but I liked it. Made him look sexier than he usually did. “Serve it up. Let’s see if I can get a point off you this game.”

  My cheeks flamed. Always the clumsy one in gym, having to hold things back, it was nice to actually get to play for real and not have to focus.

  Nate snatched up the ball and tossed it to me. I palmed it, put my glasses back on, and went to the serving line. One big step into it, and I swung for the fence. The ball ricocheted off the wall and zoomed by me. I bent down, ready to handle anything Nate dished out on his return.

  What I hadn’t expected was a stinging slap to the back, right between the shoulder blades.

  It sounded liked someone clapped their hands together, and it echoed just as loud against the walls. The wind whooshed from my lungs as a flaming sting streaked up my spine to the base of my skull.

  I think my teeth rattled, too.

  “Oh my gosh. Mandy!” Nate yelled.

  The wooden floor met my knees with bone-crushing pain, and my racquet clacked against the floor. My constricted lungs didn’t let much air in, but I gasped for it anyway. Maybe a little would seep in. I could only hope.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Mandy. I’m so sorry!” Two warm hands rested on my shoulders. “Shit.”

  The door creaked open and slapped against the wall. “What the hell are you doing?” Zach’s voice echoed off the walls.

  I must have imagined that.

  I looked up and saw Nate’s golden, brown eyes staring down. But right beside them, Zach’s steele-gray eyes glared at Nate.

  I coughed and air finally made it through my feisty lungs. Maybe my brain would start working again, and I’d realize I didn’t see both Zach and Nate. After several blinks and deep breaths, the two images remained.

  “Ah, hell.”

  Nate helped me to my feet.

  “I’m good. Holy crap, what was that?” I asked.

  “Yeah, buddy. What the hell?” Zach pushed Nate to the side.

  “Zach. Stop. What are you doing here?”

  “Are you okay, Mandy?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry. The ball didn’t go exactly wh
ere I’d planned,” Nate said.

  “I’d say.” I reached back to feel between my shoulder blades. “That hurt like a son of a monkey.” Felt like someone poured acid on my skin. At least it wasn’t a dart or a silver bullet.

  Nate’s wide eyes pleaded with me, begging for forgiveness. The corners of his mouth were downturned. Zach pushed his shoulder again, and he stumbled, never taking his gaze from mine.

  “Zach. Knock it off. It was an accident.” I shoved him aside. “What are you even doing here?”

  “What was your name? Nate? Dude, first I see a bruise on her face last week, now you’re pegging her with racquetball balls. What the hell?”

  Nate arched an eyebrow at Zach, then looked back at me. “Maybe we should just bolt.”

  “Yeah. That’s cool.” I glared at Zach.

  “I’ll get our stuff.” He gave Zach a long, hard look before he turned on his heel and moved to the corner of the court where our stuff sat.

  I planted my hand in Zach’s chest. “Go.”

  He leaned close. “You’re really okay?”

  “Zach, what the hell, man? What are you doing here?” I shook my head and stepped to the side. He mirrored my movement.

  “I saw you come in here so I swung by to see you.”

  “Why? Where’s your girlfriend?” I glanced behind him.

  “At class.” He glanced back in Nate’s direction, then stepped closer to me. “Scott talked to me the other day.” He arched his eyebrows and nodded toward me. “About our mutual friend.”

  “He said he would. You haven’t had any run-ins with him, have you?”

  “No. You?”

  I shook my head. “Now go. You need to stay far away from me until we get all this crap figured out.”

  Zach strutted toward the tiny door. “Dude, you better start taking better care of her.”

  “Goodbye, Zach,” I said. My voice echoed off the walls. The loud noise didn’t help the throbbing ache in the back of my skull. Okay, neither did the slamming door.

  “Seems like he can’t make up his mind if he wants to date you or doesn’t.” Nate glanced at me sideways. “Or is he always like that with his ex-girlfriends?”

  “His psycho-girlfriend is just rubbing off on him.” I dismissed it with a wave of my hand. “You were sweet though. He was being a jerk to you and you just shrugged him off.”

  “He’s probably just realizing what a huge mistake he made. Can’t fault him for that, can I?” Nate winked. “You’re pretty special.”

  “Wow.” I poked his chest. “Are you real? And are you really only eighteen? Or is there a thirty-year-old hiding in there somewhere?”

  I couldn’t believe Nate. So patient and kind. Mature, too.

  He smiled. “I feel horrible for hitting you with that ball.” He shook his head and shoved his racquet into its little case. “I usually have better aim, I just miss-hit or something.”

  “At least it wasn’t my face, don’t need another bruise there, huh?” I laughed. Oh, but then my back stung, reminding me not to laugh. “I’m going to have a nice bruise back there, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah. Probably. Jeez. I’m so sorry.” He shook his head. “First you almost die on my balcony and I bruise your face with my head, then you stumble around in the dark while on your birthday date. Now this. You’re not going to want to hang around me much any more, are you?”

  “True. You are a little dangerous to be around. I might have to rethink things.” I winked at him.

  His jaw muscles twitched, and his chest deflated with air.

  I shoved my racquet into its case, then swiped my palm against his shoulder. “I’m tough. Don’t worry about it.”

  He grunted.

  “I think a double scoop ice cream cone will heal me up just fine.”

  Chapter 24

  “These guys are so drunk. Look,” I said, pointing to the silver laptop Jasmine got us.

  Five people—three girls and two guys—stumbled through the front parking lot. Our computer didn’t have an audio feed to those cameras, but had there been, I figured there would be a lot of laughing and cussing going on. One guy just lurched forward into a car, then landed on his butt. Surprisingly, I didn’t see the car start beaming lights or something. Must not have an alarm.

  Georgia hopped up from the floor in front of the DVD cases and scurried over to me, carrying one of the movies. “What?”

  “Look.” My stomach cramped from laughing so hard. “That guy can’t even stand up.”

  Georgia looked at her watch. “It’s only nine-thirty and he’s that drunk?”

  “It’s Saturday night, he’s probably been drinking all day,” I laughed. “Okay, so what movie did you pick to watch? Or are we watching dumb drunk guys?”

  “Movie. You said Dad liked Rambo?”

  “The first one. That’s the best.”

  “That’s the one I grabbed.” She hopped to her feet toward the DVD station. “I think I need popcorn, though.”

  “Me too.” I glanced down at the computer screen once more, ready to shut it, but then I saw those drunk guys getting into a car. “Oh, crap.”

  “What?” Georgia faced me.

  “I think those nimrods are going to drive. Look.” I turned the computer toward her. She crawled to the ottoman and pulled it close.

  “You’re right. Oh. And that one guy is grabbing at that chick.” Georgia’s eyes popped wide. “He’s pulling her to the back lot.”

  The hairs on my neck shot up. “Shit. Come on. You wanted to be a super-hero, right?”

  She looked up at me, bottom jaw dropped. “Um. Yeah. Ahh—”

  “Miss Writer at a loss for words?” I bolted to my feet and grabbed my shoes. “Let’s go.”

  Georgia squeaked and followed me out the door. I hopped down the hall pulling my shoe over my heel.

  “What do we do? What if they see us?”

  “Ah, hell. What do I know? Just wing it.”

  I thrust open the stairwell door leading to the back entrance. My heart hammered my chest. The ground floor door loomed in front of me. I paused, sucked in a deep breath and pushed it open.

  Georgia’d been right. A guy had pulled one of those chicks to the back. The single, scrawny light on the other side of the lot and the little sconce above the door did little to cut through the darkness draped over the lot.

  “Ah, come on. Just a little more,” the guy said as he nuzzled against the dark-haired girl’s neck.

  Her hands were planted against his chest. “Brock, no. I don’t want to. Stop.”

  He didn’t budge. In fact, seemed like he moved his body against her even more.

  “Brock is it?” I said as I stepped down from the door to the gravel. “I think she said stop.”

  The girl looked at me with wide eyes. “Help me.”

  “Workin’ on that,” I said. “Hey, buddy. Get off her.”

  My voice must have trickled through the booze sloshing around in his brain, because he looked up. Couldn’t see his eyes too clear, but I was sure the glare wouldn’t have been too loving. “Beat it,” he said, then returned his face to her neck.

  “Brock. Please. Just let me go,” the girl said.

  I took the final step that separated us and grabbed Brock by his shoulder, then reached for his hand, which was curled around the girl’s butt. I peeled his fingers back.

  “Ahh, wait,” he said.

  “Thought that’d get your attention.” The girl stumbled out from Brock’s grasp and toward Georgia.

  “Stop. Okay. Let go.”

  I released my grip on his fingers, but kept my other hand on his shoulder. I took a quick look at Georgia. She steered the drunk chick away, toward the side lot.

  “Dude. What are you doing, anyway?”

  His glazed eyes flickered at me. “She wanted it. She—”

  I iced my forehead and smacked it against his. He oozed to the ground, motionless.

  “Sleep that one off, buddy.” I scurried around the corner and jo
ined Georgia.

  “Where’s the guy?” she asked.

  “Passed out. I left him there.”

  A car engine revved and giggles spilled out from an SUV a few cars down from us. “Where’s Brock and Lisa?”

  “Having some fun in the woods,” someone sang out. “Woo-hooo, let’s go.”

  “Are you Lisa?” I asked.

  She nodded and looked at me through heavy lids.

  “Georgia, set her down and go talk to these jerks. They’re about to drive off totally plastered.”

  I bolted behind the car. Somehow they’d managed to back the car in and the trunk sat about a foot from the brick wall. I squatted down and glanced around.

  Music spilled out from the open windows. The car jostled from side-to-side. Cracks of cans opening rattled the darkness around me.

  “Oh, hey, guys,” Georgia said as she approached the driver’s side. “You can’t drive. You’re totally drunk.”

  “Who the hell are you?” the guy said.

  “Yeah, who are you?” the two girls in the back seat echoed.

  “Dude, you’re going to kill someone if you drive like this. I’ll take you where you want to go. Just get out.”

  “A designated driver goody-goody.” The engine revved. “No thanks.”

  I heard the distinct click of gears grinding. I grabbed the hitch connection. The car lurched forward, but I held tight.

  The engine revved, dirt and rocks spit out at me, nicking my arms. Okay, so I wasn’t the smartest light bulb in the pack. Never thought about the tires spinning.

  Crap. I glanced around. Pinned behind the SUV and in the dark, I should be safe. I threw up a thin layer of ice around me and the rocks and dirt bounced off that.

  “Ahh, that’s hot! Wait.”

  The car suddenly died. “I’ll take those,” Georgia said.

  I pulled my ice back in and stood.

  “Everything okay here?” Martin’s voice resonated from around the corner.

  His massive form came into view with Lisa cowering beside him.

  “Mandy? What the heck are you doing back there?”

  I shuffled out from behind the car toward Georgia. Her glowing hand dimmed and she released the kid’s hand. “Nothing. Georgia’s just sweet talking the keys from this idiot so he won’t drive.”