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A Man Like Him

Page 16

by Rachel Brimble


  Her chair clattered to the floor behind her and she snatched her clutch from the table, seemingly oblivious to him and the staring diners around them. She turned and darted her panicked gaze over his face. “I’ve got to go. Now.”

  “Wait. What happened?”

  She stared at him, her eyes wide, her entire body shaking. “He’s here. I saw him.”

  “Who? Masters?” Anger surged through him. “You saw Masters?”

  She nodded. Chris shot his gaze manically around the restaurant as he came around the table and slid his arm across her shoulders. Adrenaline shot into his veins. “Where? Where was he?”

  She pointed her shaking finger toward the open entrance. “He left. He smiled at me and left. Oh, God. We’ve got to leave. Now.”

  The urge to sprint from the restaurant and chase the bastard into the ground pummeled through Chris’s blood. Fire burst and burned hot behind his rib cage. “No. You wait here. I’ll go.”

  She whirled out of his grasp. Her dark eyes burning bright with anger. “No. I said we leave and I meant it. You’re not going after him on your own. I agreed to this date but if you’re in any danger, it stops. Now. He’s here. This is it. You are not going after him alone.”

  “Mr. Forrester? Is everything all right?”

  They snapped their heads around simultaneously. The maître d’ stood to the side of them, his eyes flitting back and forth between Chris and Angela, his cheeks flushed.

  “Everything’s fine.” Chris turned to Angela. “Let’s go.”

  Drawing out his wallet, he tossed a few twenty pound notes onto the table before gripping Angela’s hand and leading her from the restaurant, heedless to the stares of the diners and staff.

  Bastard. Damn nerveless bastard. I’ll kill him with my bare hands.

  They half ran, half stumbled down the steps and onto the beach. Still holding Angela’s hand, Chris ran toward the car parking lot. Her high heels clip-clopped erratically against the asphalt and he forced himself to slow down before she broke an ankle.

  He yanked his car keys from his pocket as they neared his car. He pointed it and the locks shunted open. “Get in. Call Cat. I’ll drive.”

  Her eyes blazed hot with anger and verve. “Where, Chris? Where are you going to drive? He could be anywhere.”

  His heart raced and his mind whirled. “We’ll find him. Get in.”

  She moved toward the passenger door and then froze. Her face was ghostly white in the semidarkness, her frame suddenly smaller and more fragile than it had been minutes before when they’d been staring into each other’s eyes across the restaurant table.

  He had no idea if she was functioning on adrenaline, anger or fear. He wanted to protect her. Keep her safe. Her body hummed with self-defense yet the look in her eyes told him Masters still had her. Still controlled every damn emotion she dared to feel.

  Chris balled his hands into fists at his sides in an effort to remain calm. “Angela?”

  She looked around the parking lot. Her eyes wide, her mouth dropped open. “He could be anywhere.” She clasped her hand to her throat. “He could be watching us right now.”

  Chris’s pulse beat hard in his temple. She was making him jumpy. He didn’t want her freaking out. Not here. Not where Masters might be watching. He didn’t want to give the son of a bitch the satisfaction of knowing he could still affect her.

  “Angela. Get in the car.”

  Her gaze locked on his but her eyes were dazed, as though she wasn’t really seeing him. “He came here. He came here while we were talking, eating, laughing. He’ll kill you. He’ll shoot you. You need to leave. Get as far away from me as possible. Please. You have to leave me to deal with this. You have to.”

  “He won’t kill me. Get in the car.” He moved to come around the hood.

  She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes as she backed away, her hands raised in front of her like a shield. “No. I need to find him. I need to stop him.”

  “What? Don’t be—”

  “Get help, Chris. Get Cat.” She leaned down and slipped off her heels. Clutching them in her hand, she ran from the parking lot.

  “Shit.” Chris took off after her, fumbling his cell from his inside pocket. “Angela, wait!”

  She ran straight from the parking lot and across the promenade, into the busy road that ran the length of the beach, heedless of the cars coming either way. Slim, tall and entirely too athletic, her lithe frame zigzagged through the stalled vehicles as they braked and screeched to a halt on either side of her.

  Chris’s heart leaped painfully into his throat. She was going to get herself killed.

  The phone rang and rang in his ear and finally kicked to Cat’s voice mail. “Cat, it’s me. Masters is in Templeton. Angela saw him. We were at The Oceanside. You need to get some people down here. Now.”

  He snapped the phone shut, his breaths rasping and his lungs burning with a fury he’d never known. Angela’s hair, loosened from its clip, fanned out behind her like a river of chocolate, her hand gripping her skirt in a ball at her side. If he lost sight of her... She ducked into a narrow alley between the bakery and a souvenir shop.

  “Angela! Wait!”

  A car skidded to a halt beside him, its bumper nicking his leg as Chris surged forward. He charged into the alley. Empty. She was gone. He’d lost her.

  “Angela!” He fisted his hands into his hair and looked left and right. Now what? Where did he go next? Masters could be following her. Masters could chase her down, beat her, hurt her, rape...

  Bile rose thick and hot in his throat as fear and panic twisted into a knot and stuck like a boulder in his chest. What the hell was he supposed to do next? He ran forward. Stopped. Ran the other way. Stopped. He needed to think. Needed to think like Masters. He squeezed his eyes shut. The hundreds of images of Masters Chris had seen on the internet whirled and spun behind his closed lids.

  Masters was a violent narcissist. He’d only think how this situation could best work for him. Cat had already said Masters was patient, would willingly bide his time. Would he go straight after Angela? Chris snapped his eyes open. Probably not. He’d want to tease her, play with her like a cat with its prey. He turned and ran back down the alley the way he came. Angela would surely go home.

  God, please let her go home.

  Pulling his phone from his pocket a second time, he dialed Cat again. She picked up on the second ring.

  “Cat? Where are you?”

  “I just got your message, I’m on my way.”

  “She’s gone. Angela took off.” Chris darted straight off the pavement and into the road once more. His feet pounded the distance until he leaped over a railing surrounding the restaurant parking lot. He made for his car.

  “She’s gone? Gone where?”

  “She’s terrified. She saw him and bolted. Said something about talking to him.” He slid into his car and gunned the engine. “We’ve got to find her before Masters does.”

  “Okay, okay. Where are you now?”

  He slammed the car into Reverse and spun out of the lot toward the entrance. “I’m leaving the restaurant.”

  “And going where? You can’t just drive out of there blind with rage. You’ll be no help to her this way.”

  “I’ll go to her place and just pray to God she’s gone there. If Masters is waiting...” Chris swallowed the last words. He couldn’t think that. The edges of his vision blurred blood-red and he blinked, yanking his seat belt over his shoulder and locking it. He’d be no damn use to her dead.

  “Chris, listen to me.” Cat blew out a breath. “Stay there. I’ll get some cops out to her place right now. I need you to stay there and tell me exactly what happened.”

  He shook his head, his jaw clenched. “I can’t do that. I can’t stay here while she’s out the
re on her own. I’m sorry, Cat.”

  He shut off the phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat before pulling out into the traffic and heading out of Templeton town center toward Angela’s house situated on the outskirts, fifteen minutes away. Chris cursed. Fifteen minutes might as well have been fifteen hours. He pressed down on the accelerator.

  * * *

  ANGELA STUMBLED FROM the taxi and haphazardly tossed some money at the driver through the open window. He shouted after her but she ignored him, making for her front door as though the devil was on her tail.

  Her hand shook as she rammed the key into the lock. Cursing as the damn key stuck time and again, she finally shoved the door open. She stepped over the threshold, every nerve in her body on high alert. Silently closing the door behind her, Angela reached blindly to her side and snapped on the lights.

  She waited.

  Waited for a noise. A smell. A feeling. Something.

  Anything to tell her Robert was there—or had been there.

  She inhaled a deep breath, smelling for a whiff of his aftershave. The soap he used to use. Intellectually she knew he could have changed what he’d favored before his imprisonment but in her heart she knew everything was still exactly as it was before.

  He’d come back for her and now she’d fight. Fight to keep what was hers. Fight for her liberty. Fight for breath and her freedom. The sacrifice might well be a future with Chris, but he’d be safe and, in the long-term, so would she. No good could come of her letting down her guard, relinquishing control. This is what happened when she did that. She went backward when she’d strove so far forward.

  Tears threatened. When would she learn? Robert told her she’d never be free. No decent man would want her after what he’d done to her.

  She pushed away from the door, her bare feet brushing soundlessly across the carpet. Even if she was destined to a life alone, that was better than cowering in a corner frightened of her own shadow. Robert wouldn’t touch her ever again.

  She looked around the room. Everything was in its place. Everything untouched and undisturbed. Nothing smelled of him and she didn’t sense him anywhere near. The house was empty. She released her held breath...only to have it trapped painfully in her throat once more.

  A shadow flitted past the window leading out onto her veranda. A man. Dressed in black. Her heart raced and her hands turned clammy. She glanced back toward the front door. Another shadow passed by the square of glass at its center...and another.

  Heightened nerves tore through her as indecision whirled in her mind. It couldn’t be him. Why would he bring other people? What the hell was happening? Why were there people on her property? She started toward the door when a flash of white on a helmet gave the police officer away.

  Hysteria bubbled out of her on an undulating wave. She bent double, clutching her stomach as burst after burst of laughter emanated from her, tears ran down her cheeks and her body shook. A knock on the door and she went forward, threw back the lock and flung it open.

  “Angela?” DI Garrett stared, her eyes wide with concern. “Are you ok... Are you laughing?”

  Angela nodded and pressed one hand to her stomach and raised the other to the inspector. “I thought...I thought... Robert’s not here. He’s not been here.” She flapped her arm back and forth in a halfhearted gesture for the inspector to step inside. “See for yourself.”

  Glancing behind her, DI Garrett tilted her head to the three black-clothed—and armed—officers behind her. “Check the place through. I’m sure Miss Taylor’s right, but I want everything checked all the same.”

  The officers clumped their heavy boots across her carpet as they disappeared into her bedroom, bathroom and spare room. Living in a single-floor bungalow suddenly seemed more advantageous than she could’ve imagined. There was little to nowhere Robert could conceal himself.

  She turned. DI Garrett stared at her and Angela’s smile dissolved as her hysteria melted away leaving nothing but disbelief. “Oh, my God.”

  She walked to the living room and sank down on the leather sofa, dropping her head into her hands. The adrenaline left her body, leaving her mind numb and her muscles aching. “He’s at the Cove. He’s really here. Now I have to wait because you won’t find him.”

  “We will.”

  Angela snapped her head up, anger simmering hot in her belly as she struggled to contain it. “No, you won’t. He wants me. He’ll wait until the time is right and then he’ll take me.”

  DI Garrett shook her head and sat in the armchair beside her. “He’s made a stupid mistake coming here. Templeton Cove is small. People talk. People care about each other. His face will be all over the breakfast news tomorrow morning. He doesn’t stand a chance of coming within fifty feet of you. I promise.”

  Angela felt sorry for her. What did DI Garrett know of dealing with a man like Robert? She was a cop. A beautiful, confident, capable cop used to dealing with criminals committing small-town misdemeanors. Angela froze as shame seared her cheeks. DI Garrett’s murdered friend. She knew plenty. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  “My friend?” DI Garrett raised her eyebrows.

  “Chris told me about—”

  The front door slammed back on its hinges and they both leaped to their feet. Chris came barreling through the door, his eyes wide, his jaw tight and color pale. His gaze locked on hers. “Angela.”

  Angela stiffened as he came toward her, his hands outstretched.

  “Thank God.”

  She let him embrace her, softened under the reassurance of his strong arms around her. “I’m fine.”

  He pulled back and held her at arm’s length. His gaze darted over her face and hair as though looking for injuries. “You frightened the life out of me taking off like that. What were you thinking?”

  She closed her eyes. “I wasn’t thinking past getting space between us. I’m sorry. I know I frightened you, but we can’t be seen together. Not now. Not with Robert here.”

  He opened his mouth to say something but DI Garrett got there first. “She’s right. Enough’s enough. You have to stay away. It’s too dangerous. For her and you.” She opened her eyes wide, clearly sending him a silent warning.

  Angela shifted from one foot to the other. She’d made this situation happen. She’d kissed him. She’d put her hands on him. Just as Robert had told her again and again, she was selfish, self-involved, only thought of herself and not the effect her actions would have on others. Guilt skittered up her spine. She’d put Chris in this position and now she’d be forced to turn her back on him. For her own peace of mind and his safety. Cruelty and loss struck a harsh slash across her heart, and she sucked in a breath against the pain.

  “Are you listening to me, Chris?” DI Garrett released a heavy breath. “If you want to help Angela, you’ll stay well away. Being seen together will do nothing but anger Masters more than ever.”

  The exchange made Angela feel like a spare part but at the same time grateful for DI Garrett taking over the conversation. She was in far too deep emotionally, as far as Chris was concerned, to give her words the conviction they needed. She’d made a mistake by kissing him, made a mistake by agreeing to a date. She’d thought she could handle it, but she couldn’t. It was clear she’d never be happy as long as Robert drew breath.

  Chris dropped her hands and moved away from them to pace the room.

  Angela stood silently beside DI Garrett, the room heavy with tension.

  He turned abruptly. “If I walk away, what happens next? What are you going to do to catch him, huh?”

  “We’re looking for him.” DI Garrett fisted her hands on her hips. “You can see the cops we have here and there are at least a dozen more scouring the Cove as we speak. He hasn’t got many places to hide.”

  His eyes blazed with anger. “Really? Are you sure about that
?”

  The inspector’s gaze wavered and the skin at her throat shifted. “Yes.”

  “There are hundreds of shops, apartments, holiday parks, a beach, a pier...the man could disappear as quickly as he came. Don’t try to bullshit me. You didn’t even know he was here, for crying out loud.”

  Angela flinched. Her eyes darted from Chris to DI Garrett and back again. Chris was angrier than she’d ever seen him. She waited for the fear to strike, waited for the claustrophobia to take over her rationale—nothing came. She wasn’t afraid of his anger. It wasn’t directed at her. It was grounded in his care for her. That’s what his anger was about. He truly cared for her.

  “Don’t you dare insinuate I’m not doing my job.” Inspector Garrett’s voice was dangerously low. “Don’t you dare. The man is on a mission. He’s dangerous. He could have God knows who working with him here and in Standbridge. Me and my team are doing our best. That much I’m sure of. Got it?”

  Their gazes locked as Angela looked on.

  The seconds ticked by until Cat drew in a long breath and turned. “Angela?”

  Angela dragged her gaze from Chris’s set profile to the inspector’s. “Yes?”

  “You have two choices here. Neither of which you’re going to like, but we have no other option at this point.”

  Angela nodded. “I understand.”

  “Okay, well...one, you can have a female officer stay here for the next couple of nights or two—”

  “I stay here with her.” Chris’s voice cut through the air like a sharpened dagger.

  Angela snapped her head around at the same time as DI Garrett, their voices joined in unison. “No way.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHRIS STARED AT Angela, completely ignoring Cat. This was about what Angela wanted, not his damn sister. “Why not? Wouldn’t you prefer to have me stay here than a stranger? Someone who doesn’t know you.”

  Her dark gaze lingered a moment at his lips before snapping to his eyes. “This isn’t about that.”

  “Then what is it about? Me? This situation? The police? What?” Frustration vibrated through his abdomen. Didn’t she understand he had to do something? He refused to turn the other way ever again. And now he’d researched Masters and was all too aware of Angela’s fight for justice, he needed to prove to her that there were men in the world worth trusting. Cat wasn’t the person to do that. He was.

 

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