Deadly Dancing

by Nicolette Pierce

“Evan?” She asked and paused to listen. “Uh, thank you for the naughty invitation.” Kym winked at me. “But, no, you’ll have to ask Mars when you talk to her. This is Kym. I’m a friend of Mars.”

  He’s probably hitting on her right now. He’s really good at that. He transcended the need for words. One look into his translucent blue eyes and I break out into a sweat.

  “She’s been threatened by a woman who’s telling her to back off and leave some guy alone. We can’t figure out who the guy is. I thought you might have a stalker since you have such a reputation,” she teased.

  Kym nodded. “Yeah, she’s here. She’s had too much to drink though.” She eyed me. “Okay, you can talk to her. If she doesn’t make sense, please ignore her.” She handed me the phone.

  “Heaven Evan?” Somewhere in my brain, a voice drifted down to tell me to shut up.

  “Mars, are you okay?” Evan asked. “Do you need me to come and take you home? I could tuck you into bed and make you feel better?”

  “Your eyes are blue like glacier ice. Can I lick them?”

  The room tilted and grew fuzzy. I waved my hand in front of my face. I couldn’t see it. “Heaven Evan, I think I’m already in bed. Someone turned out the lights. I need a nightlight. Oh, your eyes could be my nightlight.”

  Chapter 7

  I awoke to a dark room. I dragged myself up from Kym’s couch, untangling my legs from the pile of blankets tucked around me. My mouth tasted fuzzy and dry. I wiped my hand against my lips and felt crusted drool on the corner of my mouth. Beautiful!

  I stood but had to sit again until the room stopped spinning. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It read a little after one. What happened? Wine. I remember wine. I couldn’t recall anything beyond that.

  I was ready to crawl back under the blankets and die, but heaven had to wait until I brushed my teeth. I licked the front of my teeth. Ick! Even heaven wouldn’t want me with these teeth. Heaven? Something in my mind sparked, but I didn’t know what or why.

  I trudged to the car and slowly drove home. Fifteen minutes later, I was up in my bathroom scouring off the last of the murky wine aftertaste.

  I peeled off my clothes and pulled out the first T-shirt nearest to me, which was small and short. I didn’t care that it didn’t cover my undies; I just wanted my pillow.

  I remembered Mrs. Janowski’s bat downstairs. I drug myself downstairs and retrieved it. I may be tired, but not tired enough to forget the demented people who were bound and determined to find me.

  I drifted to sleep, cuddling with my bat. I found myself sitting on a glacier. Why am I on a glacier? I heard noises coming from behind the gigantic ice rock. Someone was opening the door. Wait, there’s no door on a glacier. My eyes popped open.

  I held my breath, straining to hear. It was quiet. I let out a calming breath but caught it as I heard the bedroom door handle turn. I snatched the bat from the bed. My legs wouldn’t move. I sat frozen on the bed. The door opened and a shadow moved in, closing the door behind it. Shit! My adrenaline kicked in and I quickly stood.

  I could sense the person was near me. My stomach dropped. I closed my eyes and swung the bat. A vibration zapped through my arm as the bat connected. Thud! A body crumpled to the floor.

  “Damn it!” a deep voice growled.

  I hopped over the shadowy mass and flicked on the lights. Brett was sprawled on the floor, clutching his side.

  “What the hell are you doing here? I could have killed you!” I scolded.

  “You hit me with a bat, not a grenade,” he stated with an edge of pain.

  “Can you get up?” I asked.

  “I’ll need help. You may have broken a rib.”

  “See? I could’ve killed you.”

  “Just help me up, killer.”

  I helped him to his knees and then pulled him onto the bed.

  “Why didn’t you ring the doorbell like a normal person?”

  He smiled through gritted teeth. “I couldn’t fall asleep. I tossed and turned, remembering you in that little dress from earlier. I figured if you could haunt my dreams, then I may as well come here and we could be sleepless together.” He grazed my leg with his finger.

  My skin erupted with tingles. “How did you get in here?”

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You have a fake rock outside your door with a key in it. Any idiot could open the door.”

  “You noticed it?”

  “Sweet thing, the rock’s paint is peeling.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  I made a mental note to buy a better fake rock.

  His eyes focused on me. He was sitting on the bed a couple of feet away from me. His expression darkened as his eyes traveled from my small T-shirt down to my panties.

  “This may be better than the dress.” His arm reached around my legs, pulling me in to straddle him. His hands roamed from my legs up to my hips. His touch singed my skin. Hot tingles awoke my long-suppressed appetite.

  His lips pressed against my exposed stomach. He settled me firmly on his lap. Brett held eye contact with me as his hand found its way under my shirt. His hand explored, stopping to cup my breast. His thumb gently played and circled my nipple. A moan escaped my lips, and he gave me a slow, easy grin, giving me a glimpse of his white, predatory teeth.

  He drew my mouth to his. His tongue raced across my bottom lip, and I parted to let him in. My arms and legs wrapped around him. I gasped as I settled, feeling his hard manhood beneath me.

  He’s . . . perfect.

  Brett turned so he could position us better on the bed.

  “Damn!” he barked.

  I jumped off.

  He clenched his side. “Sweet thing, you need to take me to the hospital.”

  I left him on the bed while I threw on jeans and shoes.

  “I’m going to have to lean on you,” he gritted. His breath hitched, and he winced. “I’m having a hard time breathing.”

  With my help, he dragged himself up to stand. As we clomped down the stairs, I concentrated on not falling as the weight of him beared down on my shoulders.

  I helped him into the passenger seat of his car. His face was white and lined with pain.

  I killed him! If he recovers, he’ll kill me. I stopped to think. Kill me with strangulation or maybe with steamy revenge sex. I wasn’t sure which, but I was really hoping for the second option.

  I drove to the emergency room, glancing over to see if he was okay. His eyes were closed and his jaw was clenched. I pulled in front of the emergency wing and dashed over to the wheelchairs.

  “You’re not putting me in a wheelchair,” he said between gritted teeth.

  “You’re going to sit in the wheelchair whether you like it or not,” I replied.

  “I’ve never sat in a wheelchair, and I’m not going to now.”

  Was this some man thing? Can’t be seen with a slight weakness even though he’s in visible pain?

  “I can’t hold your weight. If you don’t sit in the wheelchair I’m going to punch you in the ribs and push you into the wheelchair.”

  His eyes opened wide, shocked that I’d threaten something like that. A slow smile curled on his lips. “I have the feeling you could give me a run for my money,” he said, dragging himself out of the car to sit in the wheelchair.

  I parked him in the waiting room while I made my way to the front desk.

  The woman at the desk barely glanced up when I stepped in front of her. “Yes?” she asked.

  “My friend was hit in the ribs with a bat. He said one may be broken.”

  She glanced around me to view Brett. “That’s him?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Okay, I’ll get someone to take him back. In the meantime, fill out these papers and give them back to me.” She handed me a clipboard with an inch of forms.

  I settled into a chair next to Brett. “They want you to fill out these papers.”

  He scowled at the papers. “I can’t move
my arm.”

  “Well, I can’t fill them out. I don’t even know your name.”

  He shot me glance. “Reach into my pocket and grab my wallet. I have my insurance card in there.”

  I reached carefully into the front pocket of his jeans, trying not to touch anything I’d be sorry for later. I retrieved a black leather wallet. I grinned like a child who was given a whole box of cookies.

  Brett glowered at me. “Don’t look so happy.”

  I ignored him and opened the wallet, deliberately taking my time and savoring the mystery that was about to unravel.

  It had marks on the inside from something that used to belong there. I traced the outline with my thumb. If my super sleuth-like senses—and the cop shows I’ve seen—were correct, a badge used to live in this spot. My senses didn’t tell me what kind of badge. He must have worked for some part of the government until recently. I slid my eyes to over him, but his were cold. I smiled sweetly, knowing this must be driving him crazy. And to drive him a little more over the edge, I pulled out his driver’s license. I’ll harass him about the missing badge later.

  The license was issued in Texas under the name of Brett Thompson. My mouth dropped open.

  “Careful,” he warned, “I can find a use for that mouth of yours.”

  “Your name is Brett?”

  “Yes, now fill out the form so I can get some help.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me at the restaurant when I guessed it?”

  “Sweet thing, if you knew my name, you’d be one more step in this mess.”

  I didn’t see how knowing his name would involve me any more than I already was.

  “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

  “I will. But not tonight.”

  He must be on the verge of passing out from pain, but I still wanted to know more information—now!

  “Why don’t you have a Texan accent?”

  “I didn’t move there until I was fifteen. I have a slight accent that disappears when I’m farther north.”

  I filled in the forms and asked Brett about his family medical history. He spouted short, clip answers. I itched to ask one more question that wasn’t on the questionnaire.

  “Have you ever been shot?”

  “Yes.”

  I tried to sound like I was reading the questions from the form. “How many times? And in what part of the body?”

  “Look at me,” he said.

  I turned to face him. My mouth twitched.

  “You’re horrible at lying. I’ve been shot twice; once in my shoulder, and once in the leg.”

  “Hmmm, you must not be very good at your job if you keep getting shot,” I said.

  A vein in his neck pulsed and I chuckled.

  I stood and handed the forms to the woman at the desk. A few minutes later a nurse arrived to fetch Brett.

  “Do you want me to go in with you?” I asked.

  “No, I’m afraid I’m going to cry. Then I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  The nurse wheeled him through double doors and out of sight. I leaned my head back against the seat, getting as comfortable as one possibly could in a hard plastic chair, and closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be sitting here, so I might be able to get a few minutes of sleep. I dreaded working on no sleep.

  A warm breath fell lightly across my ear and a sweet, slow kiss traveled down the side of my neck to my shoulder. How is Brett out of the ER so fast? I opened my eyes to find Evan.

  “You taste like vanilla,” he whispered in my ear.

  I blinked at the sight of him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just brought in a man who had a panic attack,” he said. Evan searched my eyes as if giving me an exam. “I should be asking you what you’re doing here. The last time I talked to you, you passed out from too much wine.”

  “Did I talk to you?” I attempted to rewind to earlier this evening. “I can’t remember anything. Kym wouldn’t let me eat because I couldn’t fit into a certain, um, area of my bridesmaid dress. I woke up on Kym’s couch, drove home, and went to bed.”

  Evan studied my small T-shirt for a moment. “Then why are you here?”

  “Well, I remember I was dreaming about a glacier.” I stopped when a playful smile flickered on Evan’s face. “What?”

  “Nothing. Go on.”

  “The door on the glacier opened. I figured something wasn’t right. I woke to find someone entering my house, and I hit him with a bat. I brought him here because he may have a broken rib.”

  Worried etched Evan’s face. “Are you okay? Did you call the police?”

  “I’m fine,” I reassured. “It was just Brett. I probably would’ve hit him anyway for breaking in, but I wouldn’t have hit him so hard. Just hard enough to give him a good bruise.”

  “Who’s Brett?”

  “I think you met him on Saturday morning. He was at the club.”

  Evan thought for a moment and nodded. “He asked me about you.”

  “I heard.”

  A silent pause ballooned between us.

  “He took the key from the rock, didn’t he?”

  “You know about the rock?”

  “Sugar, it’s a very sad, peeling rock. It’s kind of hard to miss that it’s a fake.”

  I gazed into Evan’s eyes and became lost in flecks of blue. Content to just stare, I couldn’t stay focused on what he was saying.

  He pulled me to my feet. “Walk me out to my truck.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “It won’t take long.” Evan slung his arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple. We strolled to his UrgentMed truck.

  “You know you could have called me. I would have brought the guy down here,” he said. “You can call me anytime for anything.”

  My knees softened at the image that passed through my mind.

  “I couldn’t call you. You’d be no better than Brett,” I said.

  He smiled and gently pinned me against the truck. His leg slid between mine as he leaned into me.

  My hormones were already on turbo charge from Brett. With Evan on the prowl, I was about ready to come unhinged.

  I searched for an escape until Evan tilted his head down. His hair fell across his face, framing his eyes. My heart hitched as his mouth moved toward mine. He seized my waiting lips with his.

  I had waited too long for this moment. I flung my arms around his neck, drawing him in to deepen the kiss. Evan was momentarily surprised but recovered quickly, impatient for more. He lifted me. His weight pressing me harder into the truck, I wrapped my legs around his waist. My thighs burned from the contact. He grasped my hair, gently tugging it back. As my head followed, he gained access to my neck and shoulders.

  I was breathless for a moment until I exhaled, “Oh, God.”

  A call came through on the radio. It was dispatch giving out orders for Evan.

  “Dear Lord, Mars,” he growled in my ear, then he nuzzled into my neck. “I should have kissed you years ago.”

  “I wouldn’t have let you,” I said, sounding calmer than I felt.

  His eyes brightened deviously, “You mean you’ll let me now?”

  “Kind of obvious, isn’t it? But don’t you have go?”

  “No, I quit.” He kissed the nape of my neck. The tip of his tongue barely grazed my skin, sending a ripple of awareness through me. “My new job is to make you so unbelievably happy your head will spin.”

  “Put me down and go,” I insisted, unwrapping myself from him. I had to get distance between us.

  Evan set me down. “Don’t forget where we left off.” He slid into the truck.

  I watched him drive until he was out of view. He left me wanting more. My thighs hummed with desire. This was what it must have felt like for the countless women who were ravaged by him and then left at the curb wanting more.

  I could kick myself. I had contact with two incredibly hunky men and I turn into a heap of hormones. Where’s my self-control? One word or look and I can�
��t keep my hands off.

  I should keep the graffiti on my car as punishment.

  As I returned to the waiting room, Brett was wheeled out and he was really happy. A twinge of guilt fluttered through my stomach. I tried to shake it off, but it hunkered down. We’d only had one date, and I just found out his name tonight. We’re hardly attached, I reminded myself.

  The nurse wheeled him over and handed me a white paper bag filled with medications. “Are you his wife?” she asked.

  “Just a friend.”

  “Oh, okay.” She seemed puzzled. “Well, we gave him some strong pain medication and it’s been making him a little loopy. He said something about his wife being on Mars or something like that.

  “He has a cracked rib, so he’ll have to relax and not do anything strenuous. The doctor put a few notes and recommendations in the bag for you. We told Brett, but with the drugs in his system, he probably won’t remember. Make sure he stays with someone tonight in case there are any adverse reactions to the medications. And watch yourself,” she warned. “He’s been a bit fresh with his hands.” And on cue, he slapped her ass.

  “Oh!” she yelped. “If you weren’t a patient . . . and cute, I’d slap you.” She rubbed her backside as she hurried away.

  The guilt dissolved instantly. Idiot.

  I drove him to my house since the address on his driver’s license still listed him with a Texas address and he was uncooperative in telling me where he was staying.

  We reached the front door. I brought the key to the lock, but the door was cracked open. I pushed it open the rest of the way and peered in. Brett was in no shape to help as a bodyguard, so I left him on the porch. I cautiously stepped in and turned on the light.

  I gasped at the destruction that littered the living room and kitchen. Drawers were torn out and emptied, tables were tipped over, and couch cushions and pillows were slashed open. Spray-painted on the wall in slanted handwriting was a message:

  Your time is running out. The Hammer will come down on you next.

  I studied the gaping holes in the wall near the message. It looked like it was beaten in by a sledgehammer. Great, death by sledgehammer. Lucky me!

  Weary with fatigue, I couldn’t even muster enough energy to be terrified. Brett didn’t seem to be bothered at all. I turned around to find him passed out on the couch, resting his head on the cushion stuffing.