by Unknown
Imminent Danger
by
Dee J. Adams
For Abbey Washington, dancing is more than a dream, it’s a way to forget her past. But being at the wrong place at the wrong time makes her the sole witness to a stabbing and brings back horrible memories. Since the killers saw her just as clearly as she saw them, Abbey is now a loose end that needs to be tied up.
Blake St. John is working toward his PI license and hopes to find the man who hurt his brother in a kidnapping. He quit chasing his quiet co-worker, Abbey, months ago. But now that she needs protection, he takes on the role of bodyguard and all the feelings he tried to bury for her come back with a vengeance.
Abbey’s past makes it hard to trust and an attempt on her life forces her to realize that time is running out as the killers get closer. Now, she must risk it all or face a life without the one man who showed her how to love.
Dedication
This one is for my brother, Malcolm, and sister, Eileen. I’m glad I have you guys as backup. Thanks for being an awesome safety net.
And for Mom and Dad… I miss you both a ton.
Acknowledgments
There are a few people who need serious thanking. The first thank you goes to my medic to the stars, Dan Lora. Dan patched me up on set more than a few times and he was so patient with all my questions about first responders. He’s one of my favorite people and if you stay tuned, you’ll see an appearance from him in an upcoming book!
I have to thank Sara Gonzales for answering so many of my dance/dancer questions. She’s amazingly talented and gave me a great picture of a dancer’s life.
Thank you to the ladies who keep me sane and make sure I stay on track with my stories. I don’t know where I’d be without Kate Willoughby and Lynne Marshall. You won’t find smarter, funnier or more wonderful women anywhere!
Speaking of smart, funny and wonderful, those words also describe my awesome editor, Melissa Johnson. She makes my stories stronger and therefore better. I couldn’t do it without her. Thank you, Melissa!
Another amazing woman who does more for me than I deserve is Julie Goldstein, my good luck charm, publicist and most importantly, friend. Thank you, Julie, for all you do. I am forever yours.
I couldn’t do any of this without the support of my terrific family. Thanks to Sean and Katelyn for your never-ending love and hugs.
As usual, any mistakes are my own.
Chapter One
“Coming through,” Abbey called. The farther she jogged down the large cavernous Sports Center hallway, the more it emptied out as people rushed toward the stage for the sold out concert. She’d never felt more like a salmon traveling upstream. Everyone wanted to see Seger Hughes when he made his entrance. Including her. Unfortunately, she doubted she’d get back in time.
Her boss, Julie Fraser, had accidentally left the courtside Lakers tickets she’d promised to Seger in an envelope in the car, so being the all-around gofer/get-it-done-girl, Abbey had to retrieve the tickets. Abbey never put anything off for fear it might come back to bite her in the ass later. She had do it now, do it right mentality and didn’t expect that to change.
She really had no right to be pissy about this unexpected run, since she hadn’t paid for the concert tickets anyway. A ton of perks came with the job of being an assistant to an Oscar and Emmy winning actress, but with those perks came the reality that as long as she accepted them, she was on the job, which meant unexpected things cropped up…like making runs to the car for a forgetful actress.
The credentials around Abbey’s neck gave her all-access to the venue, so getting in and out wasn’t the problem. Doing it as fast as humanly possible so she could see Seger open the show was the problem. She didn’t want to miss her favorite song, Always Believe.
Of course, getting back faster also put her in Blake St. John’s vicinity for that much longer, but she was willing to put up with him for the sake of seeing Seger live. She rolled her eyes at the thought as she jogged down the now almost empty hallway. A few late concert-goers—all VIPs—straggled in.
She had to be honest with herself about Blake. Putting up with him wasn’t the problem. It was putting up with her pounding heart and sweaty palms every time she was around him that bothered her. Blake had admitted to falling head over ass in love with her the minute he met her. She seriously doubted that.
Now that Julie had married Blake’s boss, Troy, it seemed as if they were forever in each other’s company.
Perfect.
Not so much.
Abbey picked up her pace as the end of the corridor grew closer. All she had to do was get out the door, get to the car, grab the envelope and run like hell back to see the concert opening.
At the door, she threw her momentum against the heavy metal and shoved it open to the dusky evening. She nearly barreled over the guard watching the area from the outside.
“Oh my, God! I’m so sorry,” she said to the tall, dark-skinned man with a tight Afro haircut, bushy beard and event staff stenciled on his T-shirt. She hoped her apology would take the stink eye out of his angry face. His quick once-over sent chills down her back and his lecherous smile gave her the impetus to keep moving. “Really! I’m sorry,” she said jogging backward toward the car. “I’m in a hurry!”
He didn’t wave or say a word, just watched her go, and Abbey turned and ran full out for the car, her VIP badge bouncing against her chest, her lungs heaving as the hot air of a Southern California summer night made her sticky.
The car wasn’t parked that far away because Julie was a VIP after all, and that did afford her a good amount of luxuries in her life. But the cars that had parked on either side of Troy’s black BMW—a mint green Jaguar on one side and a white convertible Mercedes on the other—had boxed in his car, so getting in the door without scratching anybody’s paint job became an exercise in sucking in air and sliding sideways inside the passenger door.
Abbey took two seconds to get her breath as she leaned her head against the seat rest. God, she needed a vacation. Or a dance job. Either one would make her deliriously happy.
With her two seconds gone, Abbey looked around the seat for the envelope containing the Lakers tickets. Not in the glove compartment, not on the floor, not under the seat. She checked the center console. Bingo. Hallelujah.
She sucked in another breath to exit the car then started running back to the concert. She slowed as she neared the same door she’d come out of a few minutes ago. No security guard in sight. God, what if the door was locked? What if she had to run all the way around to a different entrance to get back inside?
So much for seeing Seger’s opening song.
Glancing around for the guard, Abbey grabbed the handle. Before she had a chance to pull, it blew wide open and a man tore out moving at hyper-speed. Her heart nearly exploded as they collided. Impact knocked them both down and he cursed as he sprawled on top of her. The panic in his dark eyes registered as fast as the bloody cut on his cheek. Had that happened just now?
“Are you o—”
“Move,” he finally shouted as he scrambled to his feet. That seemed excessively rude since he’d been the one to knock her down. The guy wasn’t much bigger than her, mostly bald with an average face. The next second, he was up and running, and just as Abbey got to her feet, the closed door crashed open again. At least this time she had enough distance behind the door to keep from getting bowled over by the two guys who came running out.
Her pulse raced as she watched the two men tackle the man who’d knocked her down. Abbey took a step toward them, her hand against her pounding heart.
One guy threw a hard punch and the man underneath screamed. The fear and agony in the sound made her
cringe.
“Run! Get help! Hurry!” he screamed.
What? Wasn’t he the bad guy if he was being chased? Especially since one of the men on top of him was the same guard wearing the event-staff T-shirt?
Both men looked back and seemed to see her for the first time. The new guy had a big Fu-Manchu mustache, sunglasses, baseball cap and a giant knife glinting red and wet in the parking lot light. Seeing that—plus the deadly look on both their faces—dried up every bit of spit in Abbey’s mouth.
Run! Get help! Hurry! The words flashed in her brain as the danger hit her head on.
“Get her!” the man with the knife yelled.
The black man pulled a gun from a shoulder holster as he rose to his feet.
Fear strangled her heart. No fucking way!
She ran to the door and yanked on the handle. Her shoulder nearly came out of its socket when the door didn’t budge. Locked! What the fuck? Abbey glanced back as she took off running along the side of the building, with the black man on her tail and the other guy leaning over the injured man, still lying on the pavement.
Holy shit!
Abbey flew over the cement, her pulse beating hard and loud between her ears as she raced along the curve of the wall to the front of the building. The cars on her left would provide a better hiding place, but she needed people. She needed to get lost in a crowd.
But what if this guy didn’t care about a crowd? What if she was leading a maniac into a crowded concert because of what she’d just witnessed? What had she witnessed? A stabbing! Ohgodohgod! The man had screamed because he’d been knifed, not punched. The blood on the knife had been his blood!
Sweat popped out of every pore and the overhead parking lights blurred as she continued to haul ass as fast as possible.
She dared a glance behind her. The man was catching up and Abbey was breathing too hard to find her voice. A pop-pop sounded behind her and she waited for the bullets to hit. They didn’t. She would’ve screamed for all she was worth if she had a second to take in extra air. She checked behind her one last time as she came to the edge of the building and cut right.
A brick wall stopped her. Strong arms came around her and this time, the scream dying to get out, let loose.
“Abbey! Abbey! Jesus, it’s me. What’s wrong?”
Wild eyed, Abbey focused enough to make out Blake, all six foot three inches of lean muscle and dark auburn hair. His stunning blue eyes were filled with concern. She wanted to leap into his arms for protection, wanted to take a second and enjoy the relief of having help, but the more seconds that ticked by, the closer the man came. Just because she didn’t see him, didn’t mean he wasn’t there.
“Run!” she screamed, yanking him back toward the stadium doors. “Hurry! Run!” No other words formed on her parched tongue. Pulling air into her fried lungs hurt. “Gun! He has a gun! Inside!” There, that seemed to help because Blake was pushing her ahead of him as they sprinted into the building, flashing their badges.
“Get inside! Everyone!” Abbey yelled to the event staff and public still walking to their seats. “He has a gun! There’s a man with a gun!” Her shout got everyone moving in all directions. Event staff closed the doors as security drew weapons and urged people away from the glass doors.
With armed security closing in, Abbey finally slowed as she backed up toward one of the alleyways leading into the concert. Peeking around Blake’s shoulder, she kept her eyes on the door the whole time, waiting for the man chasing her to come into view.
As the seconds ticked by into minutes, as the security slowly closed in on the doors, clearly intending to venture outside, Blake disengaged Abbey’s tight grip on his hand and pulled her against him.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. I think we’re safe.”
Safe. The word, the relief, triggered a release. She refused to cry and her breathing got ragged as she fought back tears and buried her face in his soft black T-shirt. There was no denying the absolute certainty that she’d barely avoided a brutal death. She just needed a minute to regroup.
“It’s okay,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” His arms wrapped around her tight and Abbey squeezed him close, held on like her life depended on it. As the possibilities seeped in, she couldn’t manage to breathe.
Blake pulled away and she needed his strength too much for that. She wanted the comfort he was so good at providing. “Abbey, look at me,” he ordered.
But she didn’t want to face him. She especially didn’t want him to see her so weak. It seemed that’s how he always saw her. When she was at her most defenseless. She hated it.
“Abbey!” He barked her name again and this time Abbey met his gaze. True concern clouded his gorgeous blue eyes as he held her face in his big hands. “Breathe,” he told her. “Breathe with me. C’mon. In and out. You know the drill.”
The first time they’d met, she’d had a panic attack in a broken elevator and he’d talked her through it. Her sister and parents had always been the only people capable of calming her down from an attack before then. But Blake had a way about him. A confidence. He was a couple of years younger than her, but seemed to have an old soul that talked to her.
Abbey just refused to listen.
“Abbey!” Blake said sharply. “Look at me. Concentrate.”
She blinked, focused and followed his lead, taking long breaths and releasing them slowly until she had a rhythm, until the air flowed into her lungs the way it was supposed to.
“There you go. That’s my girl.” Blake wrapped his arms around her again and Abbey let him. She not only let him, she burrowed deep into his chest and breathed in his woodsy fresh scent. He always smelled so good and avoiding him had become harder and harder over the months since her their bosses had married.
She didn’t get nearly enough time in Blake’s arms before fresh chaos erupted in the form of police invading the lobby. Though it seemed the danger had passed, now they had the aftermath.
Blake let her go and pulled out his cell phone from his back pocket.
Abbey crossed her arms and forced herself to stop shaking. “Who are you texting?”
“Troy.”
She bobbed her head. Good. Troy would know what to do. He was one of the best private investigators in the city and he knew dozens of officers in multiple stations. Abbey moved toward the police who swarmed the area. Two uniformed officers came her way. “Tell him to hurry,” she said over her shoulder.
“I did.” Blake caught up to her, put his arm around her shoulders and Abbey didn’t try to pull away.
Chapter Two
The simple fact that Abbey let Blake touch her told him she was freaked out. Of course, the place was still buzzing with energy. People clustered in groups talking and pointing, and police converged nearby.
Blake hadn’t seen her this anxious since the day he’d met her. He’d never forget that day. Never forget the smile on her face when she’d thanked him for holding the elevator and never forget the panic and fear a few minutes later when that same elevator had nearly dropped them.
In general, he’d never met a cooler chick than Abbey Washington. Cool in every sense of the word. She had style, grace and she was a master at giving the cold shoulder. He’d been certain they’d made a connection in the hour they were stuck in that elevator. But he’d never been more wrong. Even when he found out who she was months later and they ended up spending a serious amount of time together because of their bosses, she’d just pretended that he didn’t exist.
What the hell was a guy supposed to think? Besides, he didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t want to be with him. He wasn’t an idiot. Even if that person was as fucking beautiful as Abbey. God, every time he looked at her he found something else to drool over. He loved the smoky green of her eyes, the color of her light mocha skin, the long dark eyelashes that fluttered when she blinked and the smooth perfection of her shoulders when she wore a little strappy top. Most of all, he went bat-shit crazy for her
full lips. Lips that he’d been dying to kiss for more months than was healthy.
Okay, so the world had a ton of beautiful women and he didn’t want to be like every other guy who chased after her. But watching her over the past year, seeing how much she cared for her boss, the way she went above and beyond her job to make sure Julie had everything she needed, made keeping his distance from her that much harder.
Jesus, the way she held onto him now, with her arm around his waist, clutching his shirt like she belonged to him, like she wanted him with her, sent every caveman cell in his system on protect.
And mine.
Two cops approached and Blake gave Abbey’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. One uniformed officer packed a solid beer gut and buzz cut hair. The other, a younger female with her dark hair pulled into a tight bun stood just as tall at about six feet and looked police-academy fit.
“I’m Officer Holland,” the heavy-set one said. “This is my partner, Officer Brinkman.” He pulled a small notepad from his back pocket. “Miss, are you the one that—”
“You have to hurry,” Abbey said, pulling out of Blake’s grasp and moving toward the door. “There’s a man out by the parking lot. He was attacked. Stabbed. He needs help!”
“Whoa, whoa,” the cop said, “Stay right there. “Where is this guy?” he asked while thumbing the walkie-talkie on his shoulder.
“Near the artist entrance. I watched him get tackled by two guys, then one stabbed him. You have to hurry!” She started moving again and the female cop reached out and snagged her arm.