by Ava Bloom
So, I slipped back out of the apartment, leaving everything the way I’d found it, walked back to my car, and drove towards Josephine’s little red dot. I’d watch her drink with friends or a date, though it was hard to imagine her having one of those, and then I would kill her.
* * *
By the time I navigated through the dense Saturday night traffic and found a parking space a few blocks from where the app said Josephine’s car was, an hour had passed. It was nearly ten thirty now, and suddenly I was really regretting my inability to take a nap earlier in the day. It was going to be a long night.
I hopped out of the car, leaving my hit bag beneath the passenger seat, and walked casually down the street. Though there wasn’t much parking, I was clearly in a business district. The clubs and bars were a few blocks ahead, and that is also where all the people were. I could hear distant voices and laughter, and I wondered where Josephine would be. I could use the app to find her car, but I didn’t have a tracker on her body.
I decided to find her car first to see if it gave me any clues as to which of the clubs she’d gone into. I took a right at the end of the block, walked two streets down, and then took a left. According to the tracker, she was in the middle of that block on the right side. My eyes scanned the street until I saw her blue Toyota parallel parked on the opposite side of the street. There was a large crowd of people a few blocks down gathered outside of one club in particular, so I decided to start there. As I was walking, however, I heard a scuffle on the other side of the block. Cars lined the street, blocking my view of the sidewalk, but I could hear shoes scraping against the cement and what sounded like someone hitting a punching bag. Before I could think about it, I jogged across the street and stepped between two cars onto the sidewalk.
I only just saw two figures—a man and a woman—disappear into the mouth of the alley. The streetlight above it had been knocked out, making it the perfect place for creeps to jump out and attack unsuspecting women. I ran for the alley, wishing I’d brought my hit bag with me, and saw the man dragging the woman towards a metal dumpster. His arms were wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides, and she was kicking wildly, though it didn’t seem to have much effect.
I ran down the alley after them. Part of me wanted to just walk away. It was far better for me to blend into the background and not be noticed, especially when I was following a target, but I also couldn’t stand by and let an innocent woman be attacked. The man was so busy trying to hold onto the woman that he didn’t notice me coming until I was right on top of them. At the last minute, he looked up and his mouth fell into a terrified ‘O’ right as my fist connected with his jaw.
I felt his face crunch beneath my fist and then heard his head crack against the concrete. The woman was still in his arms, so she fell as well, her body thudding against his. She scrambled to stand up, kicking at the ground to push herself away from him. I reached down to grab her arm and help, but she ripped it away from me.
“Don’t touch me,” she screamed, her voice high and broken. “Don’t touch me.”
I lifted my hands in the air and stepped back, not wanting her to confuse me with her attacker. “I’m just trying to help.”
The woman stumbled to the side of the alley, trying to straighten her dress and get her hair out of her face just as the man lumbered back onto his knees. I turned back around, reared back, and kicked him in the side. He groaned and rolled over.
“Are you with him?” she asked.
I shook my head, eyes still on the attacker. “No, I’m not. If I was, would I be breaking his ribs right now?”
She was silent, and I took that to mean she believed me.
“Do you want to call the cops?” I had no intention of calling the cops or being around when they showed up, but I would help her keep her attacker contained until they arrived.
“No,” she said, voice shaky. “No, just let him go.”
I turned around to look at her, surprised she wanted to let the man go free, and was dealt an even bigger surprise. I was looking into the face of Josephine Reed.
I’d just saved the woman I planned to kill from being potentially raped and murdered. What kind of irony was that? I stared at her, mouth open, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. Josephine stared back at me in small spurts, unable to maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds before blushing and looking down at the ground. Her brown hair hung over her shoulders in loose, now tangled, waves. The black dress she wore barely reached her mid-thigh and it clung to her body like a second skin, revealing every curve and dip. For the past few weeks, I’d only ever seen her in business casual attire or leggings and an oversized t-shirt, never anything this tight or revealing. I felt nerves flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with carrying out my hit.
I realized I probably looked like a crazy person staring at her for so long, so I ran my hand along the stubble at my chin and looked down at her attacker, who was still struggling to recover from the kick to his side. “You’re sure you don’t want to call the cops?”
If she did call the cops, it could work as a good distraction for the police officers. She’d file a report that she’d been attacked, the perpetrator would be locked up, and then when she turned up dead, they’d assume it was one of the guy’s crime buddies getting revenge. It wouldn’t be too hard for someone to figure out where she lived. Her face was all over the news as much as Pauly Martinetti’s.
Josephine shook her head. “No, no. I think you taught him a good enough lesson,” she said, looking down at the young kid as if she could spit on him. “I have enough publicity in my life without adding this to the list.”
I nodded, unsure what to do. I’d come here to find her, and now I had. I could pretend to walk away and then try to follow her, but she knew what I looked like now. I’d blown my anonymous stranger cover. I couldn’t lurk outside her building or drive by her cycling class unnoticed.
Suddenly, she grabbed her head and stumbled forward, eyes fluttering closed. I reached out for her instinctively, catching her just before she could hit the ground.
In the same moment, the attacker launched to his feet and sprinted down the alley. He’d seen that I was distracted and taken the opportunity to run so he wouldn’t get another kick to the ribs. I watched him disappear into the dark and then turned my attention back to Josephine.
She was limp in my arms, her pink lips parted, her chest rising and falling in slow, heavy movements. I ran my fingers across the smooth skin of her cheek.
“Josephine,” I said, brushing strands of hair off of her forehead. “Josephine.”
Her eyelids fluttered and then opened. Her eyes darted around the alley and then she bolted upright. Immediately, her hand came to her forehead again and she swayed.
“Woah, easy,” I said, placing a hand on her back to keep her from falling backwards. “You’re okay. You passed out.”
She looked around the alley and I realized she was looking for the attacker.
“He ran off,” I said. “Sorry.”
She waved me away with a quick flick of her wrist and then pressed her hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. “It’s fine. I just want to go home.”
“Is there someone I can call for you?” I asked, and then realized what I was doing. I should take her out right here. I didn’t have my hit bag with me, but that didn’t matter. She was weak and defenseless. I could strangle her and ditch her in the dumpster like her attacker probably planned to do. I could kill her and be done with this hit once and for all.
“No,” she said shaking her head, her eyes wide and glassy. “There’s no one to call.”
She lifted her chin, clearly trying to put on a brave face. She didn’t want me to see how scared she was. I admired that, and my admiration annoyed me. I was supposed to be stalking this woman, preparing to kill her. That was my job. I had to do it. But…
“You’re all right,” I said, reaching out slowly, as though approaching a wild anima
l. My hand touched her shoulder and I brushed the bare skin there. “Everything is all right.”
Josephine looked up at me and nodded once, twice. Then, a sob forced its way out of her. All at once, her head fell forward into her hands and she began to cry. And before I could stop myself, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest.
“You’re okay,” I whispered against her hair. “I’m here. You’re okay.”
5
Josephine
What was I doing? What was I thinking? Had I gone insane? Had I hit my head during the attack and gone absolutely batshit crazy?
These and similar questions whirled around my head as I sat in the passenger seat of my own car, the strange man I’d met in the alley in the driver’s seat. My eyes still felt raw and puffy from crying, and there were more tears where those came from threatening to close my throat and break free at any moment, but I was working hard to keep them down. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I was fine. The man had grabbed me and hauled me into the alley, but by some kind of miracle, I’d been saved by the man sitting next to me. The man whose name I still didn’t know.
“What’s your name?” I croaked. I cleared my throat and repeated the question.
There was such a long pause I thought the man didn’t hear me. I was moments away from repeating the question a third time when he answered.
“Lance.”
“I’m Josephine,” I said. And then, I remembered him talking to me when I’d passed out in the alley. He had called my name and brushed his warm fingers across my cheek. “But you already knew that.”
He startled, the car jerking slightly on the interstate. “What?”
“You already knew my name. You said it in the alley earlier,” I said. “It figures. I’ve been all over the news. Are you following the Pauly Martinetti story?”
His hands relaxed on the wheel. “Yeah. I saw you on the news.”
The case would make my entire career. I should be happy people recognized me and knew my name. But then, of course, after being attacked, the first thing I’d thought was how badly I didn’t want that story to make it to the press. I didn’t want a random attack on a night out to overshadow my career. Was that healthy? Shouldn’t I be more concerned about my safety and the man who attacked me not hurting anyone else? Probably, but I wasn’t.
I’d told Lance my address when we got in the car, but he hadn’t needed to ask for directions since then, which made me think he really knew where he was going.
“What were you doing downtown?” I asked, trying to make conversation. It was the only question I could think of. The fact that I’d just been attacked had my adrenaline pumping, and now I was sitting next to an incredibly handsome stranger who was driving me home. When Sadie had told me to try and take someone home with me at the end of the night, this probably wasn’t what she’d meant.
“Grabbing a drink,” he said, “You?”
“Same. My friend drug me along with her. I don’t usually go to clubs. I’m more of a homebody, as my mom would like to say. I’m happy to read a book and enjoy the quiet.” I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop. The more I looked at him, the more I realized Lance was beyond handsome. He looked like a Greek statue come to life. He was tall enough that he looked uncomfortable sitting in my tiny car. His shoulders were broad and thick, tattoos roped up his muscled arms, and his jawline was so sharp it could be considered a deadly weapon. His pitch-black hair was cropped short on the sides but had a perfect James Dean coif on top. “And I think I’ll continue being a homebody from now on. I wouldn’t have been attacked if I’d just stayed home tonight.”
This made him chuckle to himself, and butterflies filled my stomach. I bit back the words, However, I wouldn’t have met you if I’d stayed home, so maybe nearly being raped and murdered was worth it.
“You know what I do for a living,” I said. “What do you do?”
“Personal trainer,” he said automatically. I watched his jaw clench and unclench and realized how tense he looked. I didn’t think anyone could be more uncomfortable in this situation than I was, but Lance seemed to be proving me wrong. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. He’d been the one to offer to drive me home. He’d insisted, in fact. But now that we were in the car, he looked ten seconds away from ducking and rolling out the door and onto the interstate.
“I’m sorry about this,” I said. “If you want, you can drop me off at the next exit. I think I’m okay to drive myself home. I can order you a Lyft if—”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m happy to do it.”
“You don’t seem very happy,” I said, and then slapped my hand over my mouth. “I must have hit my head back there in the alley because that was so rude. I’m sorry. I’ve ruined your evening and now I’m judging you for not being thrilled about it. Excuse me.”
He let out a laugh and then seemed surprised by it, tucking his lips in to try and fight it. He looked over at me, and his features softened. His eyes scanned my face, and I was suddenly self-conscious of what I must look like—puffy eyes, smeared makeup, tangled hair. “I guess I’m not used to talking to strangers. Especially such beautiful ones.”
My cheeks warmed, and I turned and looked out the window. “Have you been a personal trainer long?” I asked, changing the subject.
“A few years.”
“Do you like it?” I looked back at Lance and saw something flash behind his eyes. I wondered whether I hadn’t unknowingly struck a raw nerve.
He shrugged. “You do what you have to do to pay the bills. What about you? Do you like being a lawyer?”
“I love it,” I said honestly. “It has always been my dream. I put in so many hours and I know my personal life has suffered because of it, but knowing I have someone’s life in my hands…” I sighed and shook my head.
“It’s a powerful feeling,” he said. And then hastily added on, “I assume.”
“Yeah, it is. It can be a burden, but when you know your client is innocent and you were able to keep them out of prison, it is all worth it.”
“What about if they’re guilty?” he asked. “Like Pauly?”
“What makes you think Pauly is guilty?” I asked with a smile. Everyone knew Pauly was guilty. My job was to lessen his sentence. Not even the best lawyer on earth could have got him cleared of all charges.
“Wow, you are a good lawyer,” Lance said, smiling at me. His teeth were white and straight, and his lips were shiny and soft. I found myself wanting to lean across the console and taste them.
“I’ll give you my card in case you’re ever in need of my services,” I said. “Though, I doubt you’ll ever find yourself in that much trouble.”
He chuckled again, as though laughing at an inside joke. “You never know.”
Lance pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex very near where I usually parked my car and killed the engine. “Well, I suppose…” he said, his voice trailing off.
“Do you want to come inside?” I asked before I could think better of it. I truly was insane. I’d known this man for twenty minutes. Why was I inviting him into my home?
His eyes flicked nervously from me to the ground, and it made me self-conscious.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “Again, blame the head injury. You obviously want to get back to your evening. I’m sorry you had to deal with my drama.”
“I’d love to come inside,” he said, interrupting my tirade.
“Oh,” I said, unable to hide my smile. “Great.”
As soon as I opened the door to my apartment, I regretted everything. The proof of my lonely, workaholic existence was everywhere in the room. In my day to day life, I was able to ignore most of it, making excuses to myself that I was busy and would worry about it later. But now, I saw my half-furnished apartment, dirty dishes piled in the sink, and general clutter through fresh eyes. I turned around to where Lance stood in the doorway and winced.
“Sorry, it’s kind of
a mess.” Understatement of the century, I thought.
He smiled. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
As I walked into the apartment, I flipped light switches with one hand and used the other to tidy up as best I could. I could feel Lance following me through the apartment, and I wanted to tell him to go sit down so I could clean up a little.
We made it to the kitchen where there were three separate wine glasses with red wine stains in the bottom, and embarrassment once again coursed through me in a hot wave. “If you are now regretting your decision to come inside, please feel free to run screaming through the front door.”
Lance looked genuinely perplexed, his dark eyebrows pulled together, making him look contemplative and somehow, even more irresistible. “What do you mean?”
“I’m obviously a lonely spinster,” I said, gesturing wildly around the kitchen. “I’m a few cats and a lumpy sweater shy of being a crazy cat lady.”
He pressed a curled finger to his lip, trying to hide his amusement. “I think you’re exaggerating a touch.”
“I think you’re being too nice,” I said.
“No one has ever accused me of being too nice before.”
“That’s surprising,” I said. “You mean the other damsels in distress you rescue aren’t grateful?”
He smiled. “You are my first and only damsel. I don’t do a lot of saving.”
“That’s a shame. You’d make a mighty fine knight in shining armor,” I said.
His eyebrow quirked up. “Oh yeah?”
I bit my lip and looked up at him from beneath my lashes, incapable of doing anything other than nodding. My heart was hammering against my ribcage, so loud I could hear it in my ears. I felt dizzy for reasons that had nothing to do with the incident in the alley. Lance wasn’t just handsome, he was sexy. He had the kind of raw sex appeal that made women make bad decisions, and I felt a bad decision of my own coming on.