Chasing Danger

by Katie Reus

  “I’m going to dance,” Shaun said to Alexis.

  Hannah was half listening to their conversation as she scanned the crowd. The shots she’d just taken turned in her stomach. There were so many people here tonight, and with half of them wearing masks of some sort, it was starting to freak her out. The reminder of her near attack last night was pressing in on her chest, making it difficult to pull in a full breath.

  Her heart beat an erratic rhythm as she dragged in a breath laced with alcohol, perfume, and chlorine. Oh yeah, she needed some distance. Fast. She looked over at her friends and hoped she didn’t look as pale as she felt. She pointed over her shoulder to the open doors leading inside. “Bathroom, but I’ll meet you guys later. Do you know where you’ll be?”

  She was met with answers of “dancing” and “pool” before Shaun told her to use one of the bathrooms upstairs because it would likely be empty. Grateful for the tip, she threaded her way through the crowd inside and finally found a set of stairs near the front of the house.

  Though she could hear everything from the foyer as she started up the wraparound staircase, the noise from the music and voices was much lower in this part of the house. A shiver snaked down her spine as she moved quickly up the stairs. In her ripped wedding dress, which she’d found at a thrift store then got creative with, she made a lot of noise as she moved, the rustling of the tulle and thick lining swishing against her and dragging against the floor.

  Following the instructions Shaun had given, she turned left onto the first hallway, then stopped at the second door on the left. The door was open, so she flipped the lights on and breathed out a ragged sigh of relief as she shut the door and sagged against it. A string of eight bright bulbs came on above the double sinks, showing her exactly how pale she was. She’d opted not to bother with costume makeup, and looking at herself now, she could see she didn’t need it.

  There was another door in the bathroom partially cracked open, showing just darkness beyond. She opened the door a few inches and realized it was a lavishly decorated guest bedroom. Closing it, she shook her head at herself, then splashed cold water on her face. The icy slap of sensation was much needed.

  She hated to bail on her friends, but she needed to get out of there. She’d thought she’d be fine coming tonight, but the costumes and masks were too much on such a large scale. The fear from what had happened last night still lingered inside her, growing each second that ticked by. It was the same fear she’d been feeling since a year ago, and deep down she knew it was time she did something about it.

  The thought of seeing a therapist made her want to roll her eyes, but this thing wasn’t going away on its own. So unless she wanted to keep trying to deal with all these emotions by herself and get the same empty results, it was time to do something about it. At the sudden decision, the tension in her chest eased. Feeling better than she had in months, she opened the door and flipped off the lights.

  Her white ballet slipper–type shoes were silent against the hardwood. After last night she couldn’t help but glance down the perfectly lit hallway. No one is there, she mentally berated herself. Turning back around, she sucked in a breath to see a man standing at the other end of the hallway wearing a Jason-style hockey mask. He was about fifteen feet away.

  “Nice costume,” she said, glad her voice didn’t shake. It was definitely time to leave when she was jumping at everything. She was only a couple of doors down from him, but because of the lighting she couldn’t see his eyes or the left half of his body.

  So she nearly jumped out of her skin when he took a step forward and she saw the long blade in his hand. Way too realistic for her.

  Hannah took a step forward, automatically moving to the right so she could avoid the man. He moved with her, his body swaying in her direction. The action was subtle, but enough to make all the hair on her arms stand on end.

  Her gaze snapped to his, as if she could see through the thick mask somehow. Something about him was too still, too focused on her.

  Not bothering to question her instinct, she pivoted and dove back through the bathroom door. Slamming it shut, she immediately locked it, then let out a short-lived scream when he slammed his palm against the solid door.

  The other door.

  Rushing to it, she clicked that lock into place.

  Oh God, what the hell was she going to do? The one time she didn’t have her freaking phone with her this happens? What the hell was happening anyway? First she was nearly attacked at her home and now some lunatic with a Jason mask and knife was coming after her?

  She scanned the marble-topped counter. Just towels and hand soaps next to both sinks. There was a window, but it was too small and high.

  Think, think.

  A rattle from the second door sent a surge of pure adrenaline shooting through her. If he was there, she could escape through the door to the hallway. The knob rattled again, followed up by a slam of someone’s palm and an angry curse.

  Acting on instinct and praying this was the right move, as quietly as she could she slid the other door open. Blood rushed in her ears so loudly she couldn’t hear anything above it. Risking a quick glance in the other direction to see if it was clear, she raced out into the hall.

  There was no way to stay quiet as she ran, her dress swishing loudly. Her instinct was to scream, but no one would hear her up here. Not with the music and insulation. And she needed to remain quiet until— Damn it! Footsteps pounded behind her as she skidded into the open area by the stairs.

  She raced for them, her entire body numb as she reached the top. She wasn’t risking looking over her shoulder and slowing down.

  Flying down the stairs, she was grateful she hadn’t worn heels as she nearly slid across the wood floor at the bottom. As she turned, racing down another hallway that led straight to the party, she saw the masked man out of the corner of her eye storming down the stairs.

  On a burst of speed and panic, she tore down the hallway, barely aware of the fact that she’d entered one of the living rooms until she slammed into a solid male figure.

  “Hannah.” Two strong hands gripped her shoulders.

  Shaun’s concerned voice sliced through the gauzy haze of her panic. Blinking, she looked up into his concerned eyes. “You okay?” he demanded.

  She could feel her pulse in her throat, beating wildly as she nodded. She glanced over her shoulder to the room’s entrance. Two female nurses she recognized stood there talking and drinking flutes of champagne. She swung her gaze around the room at the throng of people.

  No one wore a creepy Jason mask. It was like the guy had disappeared.

  Panic surged through her, a tremble working its way through her entire body. She started to tell Shaun what she’d seen, but the words died on her tongue. She dealt with the local PD enough that if she called the police and told them a masked man carrying a knife had chased her down at a costume party—which she’d been drinking at—her statement would be written off. No one would take her seriously, and then she’d be talked about at work. She’d just taken the position as chief nursing officer, and even though she hated to think about work politics, she had to. No . . . she couldn’t tell Shaun or anyone else. She needed to get the hell out of here, though.

  Slowly, her heart rate started returning to normal as she turned to find Shaun staring at her with serious concern. “I’m fine, I swear. I just . . . Can you take me to your car? I need to get my purse.” Because she was calling a cab and leaving. Whatever had just happened had to be connected to what had happened outside her house. She didn’t believe in coincidence and she needed help.

  “Sure, come on.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and started for the hallway she’d just come from.

  Hannah stopped in her tracks. “No, let’s go out the back and around the side exit. I want to see the rest of the property.” A lie, but there was no way she was going back the way she�
��d just come.

  For a brief moment she debated calling the police again, but her gut told her not to. She’d seen a man wearing a mask and carrying a blade. At a costume party. And she’d been drinking. Oh yeah, she knew exactly how she’d sound. Like a paranoid drunk. Even though she knew the guy had chased after her and tried to get into the bathroom, she’d seen stuff like this spiral out of control before. No, she’d just make a report to the same officer she’d talked to the other night instead of calling some random patrolmen out here for everyone to gawk at her and talk about her.

  Glancing over her shoulder again, she couldn’t stop another shiver from skittering over her skin. Even if Dax hadn’t called her tonight, she was asking him for help because she knew she couldn’t handle this situation on her own.

  * * *

  Dax rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he got out of his truck. Tension pulsed through him, the beginnings of a headache making the back of his skull throb. He’d tried calling Hannah back but she hadn’t answered.

  She likely thought he was the biggest asshole on the planet. As soon as he found her he was going to lay everything out there and hopefully convince her he wasn’t a dick.

  He’d parked near the entrance of the long, winding driveway of the address Hannah had given him. In the distance he could see flashing lights and hear faint music thumping.

  Wearing a plain green T-shirt and camo fatigues, he figured this would have to work for his costume. He’d come straight from the training warehouse, and this was the only clean thing he’d had in his locker.

  As he strode down the driveway, he paused as a couple appeared from behind a cluster of vehicles, walking straight toward him. The man was tall and wearing a skeleton mask of some kind and the woman . . . “Hannah,” he said, increasing his stride, his heart rate kicking up.

  Her head snapped up, the long blue-and-purple wig moving against the ripped wedding dress she had on. She slid out of the man’s embrace and hurried to him. “Dax.” God, just the sound of his name on her lips made all his muscles tighten. But the fear in her brown eyes sliced through every defense he had.

  It wasn’t fear of him—of that he was certain. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she quickly said. Too quickly.

  The man moving up behind her took off his skeleton mask. It was the same blond from the night before. He nodded politely at Dax, his expression speculative. “I’m Shaun.”

  “Dax.” He looked back at Hannah. Her mouth was still pinched, and yeah, that was fucking fear in her gaze. The sight of it pierced him. “What’s going on?”

  Her lips tightened again and she gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “Shaun just walked me out to get my purse. I left it in his car. He was going to wait with me until a taxi showed up. I was just about to call one.” She held up her phone and purse.

  “I’ll give you a ride.”

  Relief bled into her gaze. “Okay, thank you.”

  The fact that she was ready to leave with him, that she wasn’t pissed at him for not getting here earlier or calling her, told him something bad had happened. Something she didn’t seem to want her friend to know.

  Sliding up to Hannah, Dax slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as she slid her phone back into her purse. The move was proprietary and he didn’t care. It didn’t matter that this man clearly had no romantic interest in her; the most primal part of Dax wanted to stake a claim. This woman was his.

  Now Shaun’s expression lightened with humor, as if he knew exactly what Dax was doing. His gaze flicked to Hannah’s. “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”

  “I will. And you too. Call a taxi if you drink too much.”

  Chuckling, he nodded. “I will.”

  Hannah was quiet but kept her arm tightly around Dax as they headed back to his truck. The tension in her body was palpable, her breathing short and almost erratic as she nervously glanced around the long driveway.

  Dax was armed and the place was well lit, so he wasn’t worried about an attack, but he didn’t like this at all. At his truck, he opened the passenger door for her and waited until she was in before heading to the driver’s side. Once he was in he locked the door but didn’t start the engine. Before he’d turned fully to her, Hannah started talking.

  “There was a man with a knife at the party. I went upstairs to find a private bathroom and this guy tried to stop me in the hall. Or I think he was going to. Something was off about him and I didn’t think—I just reacted and locked myself in the bathroom. He slammed his hand against the door and tried the handle. Then when I heard him at the other door I didn’t know what else to do so I ran out the first entrance and barely escaped him. I saw him barreling after me down the stairs but I ran into Shaun and when I turned around no one was there. And I know how this sounds; I know I sound crazy. And yes, I’ve had a couple drinks, but I’m not drunk. Not even buzzing. I . . . It was real and that guy meant me harm. I feel it bone deep. And as crazy as it sounds I think it might have something to do with the guy who was at my house last night because I don’t see how something like this could happen twice in a row and not be connected.” Her words came at him like machine-gun fire, her espresso gaze clear and her voice serious as she spoke.

  He believed every word. Though his first instinct was to barge in there and hunt this guy down, it wasn’t a smart move. He’d be leaving Hannah alone, and how the hell would he find a man who’d likely already taken off his mask? If he was smart he would have. No, Dax was going to get help on this. And not the local PD kind. He was going to use his much better resources.

  Chapter 7

  “You don’t believe me.” Hannah’s quiet voice raked over Dax’s senses like shards of glass over his skin.

  “I do.” His jaw clenched tight as he tried to keep a lid on his emotions. “It’s smart you trusted your instinct and locked yourself in the bathroom.” Because people so often ignored their gut because of social niceties and expectations. Luckily Dax didn’t have that issue; he was barely fucking civilized. Alert, he glanced out of his truck, then started the engine. “I want you away from here now.”

  “Do you think we should call the police?”

  He shook his head. “No, it won’t do any good.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Her sigh was so full of dejection he reached out and squeezed her hand, needing to touch her.

  “I didn’t say we weren’t going to do anything. There’s something I need to tell you.” He threaded his fingers through hers as he steered out of the driveway.

  She went still next to him, and when he glanced at her, her dark eyes were solemn. “Are you . . . married?”

  He blinked. “What? No. Fuck no. I’m a federal agent with the NSA, not an analyst. I can’t tell you much about what I do, and there will be times when I have to leave with no lead time. I’ll get a call and be gone within two hours to destination unknown. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t be able to tell you, especially not since we just started dating, but you and your family have already been thoroughly vetted, and . . . I . . . I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, Hannah. Whatever this thing between us is, I want to give it a chance and I’ll be as honest with you as I can. I swear. From this point out I’ll be able to tell you when I’m leaving, but that’ll be it. I won’t be able to answer questions, and most times, I won’t be able to even contact you.” And he knew that wasn’t fair to a new relationship. It was a lot to ask of anyone to deal with a schedule like his.

  “Oh . . .” Hannah slumped back against the seat, squeezing his hand in hers before she brought it to her mouth. Surprising the hell out of him, she kissed the back of his hand. “I thought maybe you had a secret family or something. I work odd shifts at the hospital too. And I get that you traveling is different than that and will be difficult for us at times, but I can deal with separations.”
/>   “So you’re okay with what I do?”

  “Well, I don’t really know what you do, but you carry a gun and a federal agent is a pretty generic description for what I’m sure you actually do, so yeah, I’m okay with it. As long as you don’t lie to me, I’m okay with anything.”

  Relief like he’d never experienced before surged through him. He had no doubt they’d have issues with his schedule or even hers in the future. Relationships weren’t always easy, or he didn’t think they were. He’d seen enough of them break down over the years, especially when he’d been in Delta. Talk about a profession not conducive to an easy marriage. “I have another confession.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ve never dated anyone. Or been in a relationship. Or . . . anything.” He’d had a lot of sex, sure. That was it.

  “Are you trying to tell me you were a virgin before me?” she asked teasingly. Faint lines of stress bracketed her mouth, but her expression wasn’t as tense as before.

  He snorted at the question. “I just wanted to give you fair warning that I’m going to fuck up. Probably a lot.”

  She shrugged, seemingly unfazed. “Me too. That’s what relationships are about. We’ll argue, then have incredible make-up sex. And as long as you always concede that I’m right after an argument, we’ll be fine.”

  His lips twitched as he pulled up to a stoplight. “Is that right?”

  Expression solemn, she nodded. “Yes. Since you’re relationship challenged I’ll catch you up with the proper way a boyfriend acts.”

  “Boyfriend?” The word was foreign.