Gritting his teeth, he pushed at the pressure in his head. It remained, and he shoved harder. Get out! he shouted. Get out!
Deena’s color blanched and she reeled back. Phyrne gripped Deena’s shoulder and shared a look with her.
Neither spoke a word, but their expressions changed as if they communicated silently.
He lowered his hand, the pressure still there, but eased to a threadlike presence.
What the hell had just happened?
A chime and fresh air on his back announced a customer coming into the shop. Phyrne released Deena’s narrow shoulder and Deena turned toward the front, leaving them.
The pressure in his head left with her.
Phyrne nodded at her mother. “I can take care of this.”
Liss Galaxy frowned at him and gave him the look that said “I wouldn’t trust this man alone with you if he were legless and armless.” She sniffed, her disapproval as loud as if she’d shouted it to the town. With a hip swivel, she turned toward the husky young man glaring at their small gathering.
Hawk glanced around the room. A few couples were talking and drinking tea, nibbling on muffins, not paying them any attention. Only a redheaded woman sitting by the front window with her laptop open watched him suspiciously. Her cell phone was next to the laptop, and her hand covered it like it was a loaded gun as she waited for him to make the wrong move.
Looking back at Phyrne, he said, “We need to talk. Someplace private.”
“We don’t need to do anything. I serve tea and muffins. If you want conversation with a woman, I hear there are 900 numbers for that.”
He realized he’d been prepared for seduction – realized he’d hoped for seduction – not defiance and a go-to-hell glare. Craning his head toward her, he lowered his voice, a menacing growl accompanying his menacing words.
“The casino has videos of you.”
Her breath hissed in. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I have the video. The one where you pushed me into the van.” He leaned closer, seeing flecks of gold in her blue eyes, breathing in her honeyed scent. “Don’t believe me? I can show it to you.” His whisper came out huskier than he intended. A sliver of air separated their cheeks, and he felt her tremble.
She stepped to the side, away from him, and his skin missed her warmth. “We can sit at the back table.”
A good idea to stay in the shop. He wouldn’t be tempted to reenact their first and only meeting. This time, he was determined to keep his dick in his pants.
She whirled toward the table and he followed. When they reached it, he touched her shoulder lightly. “I’ll sit against the wall.”
She pressed her lips together, an exasperated expression he’d seen on women’s faces a million times. It made her seem almost... normal.
He shifted his shoulders, the thought irritating him. He didn’t want to think of her as normal. Not when memories of their primal coupling in the back of the surveillance van haunted him every night.
He sat down and peered around her at the room. Liss was waiting on two women with a half dozen shopping bags they’d set on the empty chairs at their table for four. Deena was chatting with Nelson. The redheaded woman seated at the front window was frowning at her laptop screen. Only the husky man watched them, his eyes narrowed.
“What do you want?” Phyrne settled into the chair opposite him, her back to the diners.
He turned his gaze back to her, and his heart thumped, his breath slowed. It was like looking at a sun so bright it was blinding. With all her imperfections, she was too glorious to be human.
Forcing his breathing to its normal rhythm, he said, “You have a daughter.”
She stilled. The rise and fall of her breasts stopped.
He curled his hands into fists on his thighs and reminded himself to keep breathing.
Parting her lips, she nodded, and her breasts rose. “I don’t want you near her.”
“According to the birth certificate, she was born almost nine months to the day after you raped me.”
Her face flushed, her cheekbones stained the color of a gilded rose. “It wasn’t rape. You were willing.”
He leaned forward and put his hands on the table. “You did something to me.”
She leaned back and crossed her arms. “You did something to me.”
“You... You...”
She raised her eyebrows. “Dog got your tongue?”
“It’s cat got your tongue.”
“From my memory of our mutual encounter, I’ll stick with dog.”
Not funny, but her eyes lit up and he fought an urge a laugh. “A convenient memory,” he said, and the light in her eyes dimmed.Good, he thought savagely. He wasn’t here to amuse her.
A bell rang and she twisted to look behind her at the white-haired couple carrying packages. Though she had her back to him, he felt her desperation, as if she’d hoped someone had come in to rescue her from him. As if he were the villain and not her.
“It’s getting busy.” She faced him again. “I need to help.”
He said the next words purposely. “Your aunt should be back from her grocery shopping any moment.”
She sat straighter, her expression blank, her eyes alert. Like a rabbit spotting a dog and freezing in place, watching to see whether it would go away or pounce.
“Hurry and ask your questions. I want you to finish and go away.”
He leaned halfway over the table, his head thrust forward. In her space. “Is Birdie my daughter?”
“No.” She spoke too fast, her features too controlled.
“You’re lying.”
Her lips opened, her eyelids lowered, giving her a pre-orgasmic expression. Damn her, she was doing this on purpose. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe she did this as naturally as the stars glowed in the night sky.
She leaned toward him, and he steeled himself not to move back. She stopped five inches away from his face. So close her warm breath whispered across his face.
“Did you think you were the only one?” she asked.
“Only what?” He concentrated on not reacting.
“The only man to fuck me.”
He jerked back, his spine hitting the chair back, a denial screaming inside his mind, her words cutting his heart. It was insane to be hurt, insane for anger to rise in him, hot and bitter, making him want to use words to cut her back. But one of the first things he’d learned from his mother was that life was insane.
“It’s easy to find out if I’m the child’s father. Give me a DNA sample.”
He watched her face closely. Her answer would tell him if the girl was his. If she said yes, if she didn’t care, he’d believe her. Maybe.
“You must think I’m a fool.” Her face was stony, not revealing any emotion. She jumped up, the chair legs scraping across the tile. “You don’t have the power to tell me what to do. Show the video to the world if you want. Put it on YouTube or the evening news. You’re not changing my mind. I don’t want you near Birdie.”
He stood, and leaned toward her. “I don’t give a damn what you want.”
“You stay away from Birdie or I’ll... I’ll....” In her floundering, the brave mask cracked and desperation played across her face.
He smiled without feeling any humor or any pity. She didn’t deserve his concern. “You’ll what?”
The mask came back, the cracks sealed. Her spine was as straight as a rifle stock. She slipped her hand into her apron pocket. Through the thin fabric, he saw her clutch something.
“I’ll call the police,” she said, but she was bringing the item up.
He stepped around the table but she was too quick, the gun out, her back to the diners so no one saw her but him.
“Better yet, I’ll kill you.”
* * *
CHOSEN
BY
DENISE GROVER SWANK
Everything Emma Thompson owns fits in a suitcase she moves from one roach infested motel to another. She and Jake, her fi
ve year old son who can see the future, are running from the men intent on taking him. Emma will do anything to protect him even when it means accepting the help of a stranger named Will. Jake insists she needs Will, but Emma’s never needed help before. And even though she’s learned to trust her son, it doesn’t mean she trusts Will.
Mercenary Will Davenport lives in the moment. Hauling Emma to South Dakota should have been an easy job, but his employer neglected to tell him about Emma’s freaky son and the gunmen hot on her trail. Instinct tells him this job is trouble, but nothing can prepare him for Jake’s proclamation that Will is The Chosen One, who must protect Emma from the men hunting her power. A power she doesn't know she has.
Will protects Emma and Jake on a cross-country chase from the men pursuing them, while struggling with memories from his past, his apprehension of Jake, and his growing attraction to Emma. Will’s overwhelming urge to protect Emma surprises him, especially since it has nothing to do with his paycheck and possibly everything to do with the tattoo Jake branded on his arm. Rich and powerful men are desperate to capture Emma, and Will must discover why before it's too late.
Chapter One
Emma bolted out the door of the rundown diner, pulling her five-year-old son behind her. She broke into a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the humid July heat.
Her boss, a balding man in a white uniform followed behind. He stood in the open door gnawing on a toothpick. “Where do you think you’re goin’, Missy? Your shift ain’t done yet!” He waved a greasy spatula toward her.
She ignored him and opened the back door to her beat-up Honda Accord, strapping Jake into the back seat.
“They’re coming, Mommy,” Jake’s quivering voice whispered in her ear.
His deep blue eyes filled with tears and she gently kissed his cheek. “We’ll be okay.” She tried to convince herself as much as she tried to convince him.
“I’m tellin’ ya, don’t think you can come back like nothin’ happened,” the man shouted as she opened her door.
She gave him a quick look and climbed in. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be back.
The Bad Men, as Jake called them, had found them more quickly. They used to be able to live in a place for months, but this time had only been three weeks. She tried to take comfort in the daylight, even if it was fading. The Bad Men usually came at night, but she sensed their desperation was making them bolder. She drove home as fast as possible without the risk of getting pulled over by the police. She knew from experience they couldn’t be trusted.
Home was an aged, pay-by-the-week, roach-infested motel. Their possessions were few and fit in a couple of boxes. She always took her sheets with them, although they might not make the cut this time. She turned into the motel parking lot and drove past the dated front office with its blinking neon vacancy sign. She glanced toward the desk clerk, a teenager who spent more time reading a book than paying attention to the comings and goings of the motel.
Their unit sat at the end, making it easy to observe the parking lot yet also made them easily trapped. But the benefits outweighed the risks.
She backed into the space in front of their unit, torn between bringing Jake in and leaving him in the car for a quicker getaway. The key was already in her hand as she unbuckled him. She pulled him past the rotted wood door. If someone tried to force their way in, the door wouldn’t withstand much battering.
The chill of the air conditioner blasted her as they entered the room. As she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, she pushed away the nauseating smell of mold and fear and tried to focus on what to grab. Jake cowered in the corner, eyes wide in terror. His fear spooked her. She rarely saw him this frightened. It made her hurry, tossing clothes in the battered suitcase she threw on the bed.
“They’re here,” Jake whispered in the monotone he used when he saw things only he could see.
Emma grabbed their few toiletries off the stained Formica counter, tossed them in the suitcase, and zipped it closed. Lifting the pee-stained mattress, she pulled out the gun she’d stuffed underneath and made sure it was loaded. “Let’s go.”
Emma pushed her weariness aside. She was tired of running, tired of dragging Jake all over the country. But she willed away the tears that threatened to spill. There was no time for self-pity; she had to protect her son. Jake stood in the corner, gripping his stuffed dog to his chest. Emma lowered herself close to the floor, and scrambled to the window to peer through the grimy vinyl blinds. A black SUV was parked at the entrance to the motel parking lot, next to the office about hundred feet away, facing their direction. “Shit.”
Emma turned toward Jake, frozen in his nightmare. “Jake!” She knew there was no use trying to reach him. He would be like this, near catatonic, until the danger passed. She hoisted Jake on her hip, grabbed the suitcase with her left hand, and slid the door open with the gun in her right. Crouching as much as she could, she opened the back door to the car. His eyes glazed over as she set him in the center seat and tossed the small suitcase on the floor in front of him. As she buckled Jake in, she looked up and saw a man walk out the door of the unit next to hers.
“Hey, can you tell me where the ice machine is?” He carried an ice bucket in one arm and his room key in the other hand. She cast him a brief glance. He looked like he was in his early thirties, wearing jeans and a light blue button-down shirt with long sleeves rolled up below his elbows. His wavy dark hair could have used a trim. He didn’t fit the Bad Men’s usual look of jeans and black shirts, so she dismissed him as a threat.
“Uh, sorry… I can’t help you…” She stood and shut the back door, looking over her shoulder at the SUV as she opened the driver door. She hid the gun behind her back and tucked it into the side pocket on the door as she climbed into the car, barely giving him a second glance.
The man leaned in the open window on the passenger side with an air of nonchalance. “You seem to be in a hurry.” He turned to the black Navigator behind him. “Friends of yours?”
He raised his eyebrows a fraction of an inch. She noticed the muscles of his forearm tense.
“No,” she reached for the gearshift, but he opened the door and climbed in the passenger seat. “What the …?”
“We need him,” she heard Jake’s voice in the back seat.
Emma jerked her head around to check on Jake. He seemed calmer now and stared at the man sitting next to her, a strange expression on his face. The man looked just as surprised as Emma.
“What are you saying?” Emma demanded. “We don’t have time for this!”
The Navigator started moving toward them.
“Go!” the man next to her ordered.
She had two choices: Try to kick him out and give the SUV time to block her in or drive. She slammed her foot on the gas pedal. Loose gravel shot out behind the car and hit the building.
“You’re going to have to get around them,” the man said as he fastened his seat belt and braced his left hand on the dashboard. “It’s the only way out.”
She knew this already and cast him a quick glance of surprise. She considered protesting, but didn’t want to waste the time. She hurtled down the narrow parking lot toward the SUV. With only twenty feet between the two cars, the SUV swerved toward them.
She swung left, avoiding the SUV and narrowly missing a parked car. She heard tires squealing behind them as her car barreled toward the parking lot entrance.
“Turn right,” he ordered.
Emma turned, barely slowing at the corner. She raced down the four-lane divided highway heading out of town, knowing the SUV would soon be behind her. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed it.
“I don’t suppose this piece of crap goes very fast?”
She glared at him as she raced to get through a yellow light. The SUV pushed through the red light. Car horns blared and tires shrieked behind her.
“We can’t out run them, so we’ll have to outwit them and we’d better do it soon. They’re catching up,” th
e man said.
Emma saw the SUV in the side mirror, approaching from behind. A car in the left lane separated her and her pursuer, but the SUV rode its tail and the car moved to the right lane.
“Don’t let them get on the side of us,” he grunted as he turned around to see their progress.
The highway ahead was clear for the next two hundred feet so Emma straddled the center broken white line. The SUV was soon behind them and gave their bumper a tap, jerking the car forward.
“That was just a warning. Next time won’t be so gentle.” He braced himself as he looked back.
“No shit.”
His eyebrows raised. “Done this before?”
She didn’t answer, but instead weaved around the cars in front of her. An intersection with a stoplight appeared ahead. Blessed with a green light, Emma stayed in the right lane, keeping the SUV behind her and trapped by cars in the left lane. As she entered the intersection, she floored the gas pedal and made a hard left, cutting in front of the car in the lane next to her. The other car skidded to a halt, barely missing the Honda’s back bumper. Cars coming from opposite direction hadn’t entered the intersection, avoiding a collision.
“Nice move.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled looking in her rear view mirror. The SUV was trapped by the cars in the left lane, but swerved and hit several as it fought to follow her. She knew she didn’t have much time before it caught up.
She sped down the four-lane highway, whizzing past battered fast food restaurants and strip malls. This was the older part of town, the seedy section. The area she was used to.
The windows were open and a few strands of hair had worked loose of her ponytail, whipping her face. She glanced toward the man next to her while he looked out the back window.
“I don’t see them.” He turned to study her.
“They’ll be back.” Of this, she was sure.
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