On the Chase

by Katie Ruggle

  She followed Hugh, Lexi at his side, as he moved quietly toward the front door. Glancing nervously over her shoulder, Grace eyed the back door. What had seemed like an insurmountable barrier just a minute ago seemed flimsy now that it was the only thing between them and danger. As she started to turn back around, a movement caught her attention. She refocused on the door, trying to figure out what—if anything—had shifted. To her horror, the knob turned.

  She slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her squeak of alarm, but it was still loud enough to make Hugh spin around. She waved frantically at the door, and his expression turned ferocious. He caught her hand and tugged her forward. They wove through the boxes and printers toward the front door, moving quickly.

  There was a smashing sound, loud enough to hear over the printer, and Grace ducked, swallowing a scream. Twisting around, she saw the butt of a gun retreating from the new hole it had just made in the windowpane next to the back door. A gloved hand slipped through the opening, reaching toward the door lock.

  Hugh ducked behind one of the bulky machines, pulling Grace and Lexi with him. He crowded them toward the wall, keeping his body between them and the path. They crouched in the dust, the smell of oil and hot paper thick around them, and Grace tried not to think about huddling behind that dumpster by the police station or next to her car after the shooting. Once again, she was hiding, thanks to Martin Jovanovic and his army of killers. Rage began to burn away the edges of her fear.

  Hugh swore under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Her words were barely a whisper.

  “Nothing we can’t handle.” He gave her a conspiratorial look.

  She frowned at him. Her heart was beating so hard it felt as if it were about to break out of her chest, and he was doing his jokey-Hugh thing. “I’d still feel better knowing what you were swearing about.”

  “No gun.” He shrugged, but the tension in his body showed that he wasn’t as nonchalant as he was pretending. “Didn’t think I’d need it at the kennel.”

  Lexi crouched, ready to spring, and growled. Grace strained her ears, listening for any sound, wishing for Lexi’s keen hearing. All she heard was the mechanical thump of the printer and muted rumbles from the motorcycles outside. There was no way to tell if the man had managed to get inside, or how close he was, or if he was right on the other side of the printer, ready to pounce… If he’d followed the path toward the door, he’d see them. She knotted her hands into fists, fighting the urge to grab the back of Hugh’s shirt. Clinging to him wouldn’t help.

  “Stay here,” Hugh said so quietly that she could barely make out the words.

  Grace’s stomach tried to turn itself inside out. What was he about to do? It made her want to grab him even more, although this time, it would be to hold him back. He was going to get himself killed, all because he was trying to protect her.

  Before she could protest, the huge, bald, leather-clad man stepped forward. He visibly started when he noticed them, but recovered quickly, swinging around to point a silver revolver at them. Hugh launched forward, his shoulder hitting the man right in his potbelly and driving the air out of the biker’s lungs in a whoosh. They collided with another machine before falling to the ground, the gun hitting the floor with a clatter. Hugh twisted as he landed, ending up on top of the other man. He got in two punches before they rolled, and the biker got the upper hand. As the two men wrestled, faces red and muscles straining, Lexi barked wildly, circling the pair on stiff legs.

  Grace knew she needed to help, but how? She stared at the interlocked figures, trying to think of some way to assist Hugh, but they were so close together and moving so quickly that any kick or punch would just as likely connect with Hugh, rather than their opponent. She scanned the area for a heavy object she could use as a weapon, and she saw the gun lying just feet from the bad guy’s hand. She rushed toward it just as the men rolled, tripping her. Landing on all fours, she ignored the sting of her hands and knees and scrambled to grab the gun. As her fingers closed around it, she heard a yell from the fighting men, and her wrist was caught in a cruel grip.

  “No you don’t,” the biker snarled, his grip tightening until she cried out.

  With a roar, Hugh flipped them over, knocking the stranger’s hand loose in the process. “You! Don’t! Touch! Her!” He punctuated each word with a punch to the biker’s face. Clutching the gun, Grace scrambled back until her back pressed against a stack of paper boxes. She aimed the pistol at the stranger, but Hugh blocked her aim. He had the upper hand, anyway, and she was intensely relieved that she probably wouldn’t have to use the gun.

  As she watched, her heart pounding fast enough to make her head spin, Hugh hammered his fist into the biker’s face one last time. The other man didn’t swing back, didn’t try to turn them over again. Instead, he had his hands up as if to protect his face. Hugh, his expression furious, pushed up to a crouch and manhandled the biker over onto his stomach.

  “Who hired you?” Hugh demanded, but the man didn’t respond. Blood trickled from a cut next to his eyebrow, reminding Grace of the tortured men’s blood-streaked faces, and she had to look away.

  “Police!” Theo’s shout was the best thing she’d ever heard. The cop ran to help Hugh, yanking a pair of handcuffs off his duty belt.

  “Good timing.” Although he was breathless, Hugh sounded almost back to his normal self. Grace, on the other hand, was pretty sure she’d burst into tears if she tried to talk. “I don’t have my cuffs on me. I would’ve had to MacGyver something from a piece of twine and a couple of paper clips.”

  After he and Theo hauled the dazed-looking biker to his feet, Theo hammering the guy with questions that went unanswered, Hugh moved over to Grace and helped her to her feet much more gently than he’d handled the handcuffed man.

  “Want me to deal with that?” he asked, looking pointedly at her hand.

  “What?” Her voice shook, and Grace hated that. Following his gaze, she saw the gun still clutched in her hand. “Oh. Yes, please.” She held it out, careful to keep the barrel pointed away from him. It suddenly felt impossibly heavy.

  Hugh gently took it and cleared it with efficiency born from lots of practice. “Good job, Gracie.”

  “Thanks.” She stared up at him, resisting the urge to topple forward against his solid chest. After everything that had just happened, she wanted to lean on him, take in his wonderful Hugh scent, and hide from the universe until it stopped taking a giant dump on her life.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Rudely snapped out of her Hugh daze, Grace snapped her head around to look at Theo.

  “Visiting local businesses?” Hugh offered, but Theo just glared. “Getting some ice cream?” That was the second time he’d mentioned ice cream in the past hour. Hugh must be getting hungry. He handed the gun and the bullets he’d removed from it over to Theo, who deposited them in his pocket without dropping his scowl. “Finding a quiet place to make out?”

  Grace flushed and was instantly annoyed at herself for turning red. She wasn’t normally a blusher. Hugh just seemed to bring out unexpected reactions.

  “You need to get out of here before LT shows up,” Theo said, his face grim. “If he catches you here, you’re done.”

  Grace felt her eyebrows shoot up. What did Theo mean? Would Hugh actually get fired for showing up at the call?

  “I need to talk to this guy.” Hugh jerked his head in the biker’s direction. From the rage bubbling under his words, the conversation wasn’t going to be a friendly one.

  Theo started walking toward the front of the shop, towing the handcuffed biker along with him. “You need to go. I’ll question him and let you know what I find out later.”

  “We’ll go to my house,” Hugh said, although he didn’t look thrilled about it. “You and Otto meet us there once you’re done here.”

  “I promised I’d make di
nner for Jules and the kids tonight,” Grace protested. Even to her own ears, she knew it sounded silly. Someone was gunning for her, almost killing Hugh in the cross fire, and she was worried about meal preparations. Still, she was scrambling for any hint of normalcy in the sea of hit men and bullets and exploding trucks.

  “No.” Theo stopped, turning that too-intense gaze on her, and she struggled not to look away. “If Jovanovic is after you, then I don’t want you anywhere near Jules and the kids.”

  “But…” Once again, her life was spinning out of control. After the world’s worst dinner party, all she had was a tiny bedroom in a dilapidated house that she shared with a surprisingly endearing family. Now, the threat of Martin Jovanovic was going to take even that away from her. Of course she didn’t want to endanger Jules or her siblings, but that was supposed to be her safe house. Now, she was cut adrift again, and this time, there was no safe place.

  Her voice came out embarrassingly small. “But that’s where I live.”

  It wasn’t until Hugh’s arm circled her that she realized how close he’d gotten. Although a part of her figured she should step away and put some distance between them, a much larger part of her wanted to lean against him and take advantage of the comfort he offered.

  Although a flicker of sympathy softened Theo’s expression for a moment, his tone remained firm. “We’ll find somewhere else for you to live until we figure out what to do about Jovanovic.”

  The “we” surprised her. “You’re going to help me?”

  “Yes,” both men chorused.

  “Thank you.” Despite the whole wretched mess, Grace felt a flicker of hope.

  “We’re cops. Helping people in trouble is what we do. Now get out of here before someone else tries to kill you.” Theo hauled the biker toward the front door. The handcuffed man turned his head and gave Grace and Hugh a blood-streaked sneer, mouthing, “I’ll get you.”

  Grace stared back at him as impassively as possible, trying her best to hide her shiver.

  “No.” Hugh’s voice was abrupt and cold. “You won’t. You’ll get some time in prison, but you’ll never get Grace.”

  At Hugh’s words, Theo snapped his head around to glare at the biker. “Face front,” he barked, giving the man’s arm a jerk that pulled him off-balance. The biker stumbled forward a few steps as Theo yanked open the door.

  “Found this one trying to hide in the print shop,” he called to someone outside as he stepped into the sunshine, biker in tow.

  “What happened to his face?” asked a male voice Grace didn’t recognize.

  Theo said flatly, “He pulled a gun.” The door swung shut behind them, cutting off the other person’s reply. The gloom settled over Grace and Hugh again.

  Glancing at the half-open office door across the shop, Grace gave a huff of laughter.

  “What?” Hugh asked, grabbing her hand to lead her toward the back door. Even once Grace was headed in the right direction, he kept hold of her. Honestly, she didn’t mind.

  “The owner didn’t hear any of that?”

  “When I said she was mostly deaf”—he released her hand and bent to pick up Lexi—“I meant that. Theo will talk to her about the broken window.”

  Glass crunched under Grace’s feet, making her realize why he was carrying his dog. He didn’t want Lexi to cut her feet. Grace’s heart softened even more at his consideration for his K9 partner. “Why did that guy come after us? Do you think Martin hired him?” she asked.

  Hugh glanced at her. “Could be.” He didn’t sound convinced, though.

  “Why else would he want to kill us?” Her voice was thin. It was bad enough to have one killer on her trail. She didn’t think she could handle another.

  “Not sure, but I’d like to have a chat with him.”

  Grace opened the door. “A couple of weeks ago, a crisis in my world was a long line at the coffee place.”

  He grinned at her as he carried Lexi through the doorway. “Sounds boring. Aren’t you glad you moved here?”

  “No. Not really.”

  He chuckled and put Lexi down, closing the door before reaching to grab Grace’s hand again. She had to admit that, amid all the fear and death threats and panic, this small Colorado town did have a few perks. Shaking the bemused thought out of her head, she focused on crossing the rocky, weedy yard without tripping.

  Bullets and scary bikers trump a hot guy, she reminded herself sharply.

  Then Hugh snuck an all-too-obvious peek at her out of the corner of his eye, looking so stupidly adorable that her heart accelerated just a tiny bit.

  She had to roll her eyes at herself. Fine. So he’s a perk.

  * * *

  From the second she stepped through his front door, Grace loved Hugh’s house. It had all the cuteness of a cabin, but the lofted ceilings and large windows made her feel almost like she was outside. Despite everything that was going on, she felt her shoulders relax for the first time in weeks.

  Lexi’s nails clicked against the hardwood floors as she trotted past Grace and into the kitchen, which was only separated from the living area by an island and several stools.

  “You hungry?” Hugh asked.

  Her stomach was such a mess of anxiety and leftover adrenaline that she had no idea whether she was hungry or not. She had a feeling that she’d regret trying to eat at that moment, though. “Not really. Would you mind if I took a shower? It’s been a busy, dirty day.”

  “Go ahead.” His eyes flicked over her body. “Do you need something to change into?”

  It struck her that she was back to the same desperate place she’d been a couple of weeks ago, with nothing but the clothes she was wearing and the contents of her purse, running from Martin Jovanovic. A sense of futility hit her, bringing with it a wave of despair so strong that she swayed as the world blurred around her.

  “Whoa there.” Strong hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her. “Sure you don’t want to reconsider eating something first?”

  Blinking, she brought Hugh’s face into focus. He’d leaned in close, and she noted absently that, even after crouching in dirty parking lots and cleaning dog kennels and climbing roofs and beating up a biker, he still smelled really good. Kind of warm and spicy and…something she couldn’t identify.

  His eyes narrowed and heated, and she realized with a start that she’d been getting closer and closer until they were almost kissing—again.

  Grace jerked back as far as she could, which wasn’t that far, since he still had hold of her shoulders.

  “You okay?” he asked again. This time, his voice held a little more gravel, and she wondered if he was just as affected by the almost-kiss as she had been.

  “No,” she blurted out honestly. “Not really. I’m homeless again, for the second time in two weeks, and this time I don’t even have my Walmart jeans with me. Just today, I’ve been kissed, shot at, cleaned up dog poo, climbed on a roof, and almost killed by a biker. So I’ve had better days. Why are you smiling? What part of my really sucky day is making you smile? Because that stupid smile will probably go away if I hurt you.”

  Instead of showing the appropriate fear and intimidation, Hugh actually chuckled. His hands slid down to her upper arms and then back to her shoulders in a gentle caress. “You’re so cute. You actually said poo.”

  And just like that, all her righteous indignation disappeared, and she was fighting a return smile. As annoying as Hugh was, he was also charming. That made it very difficult to stay hostile, especially when he was touching her.

  When her anger left her, so did the last of her strength. Her legs wobbled, just from sheer fatigue, and she wasn’t able to stop the forward lean that plastered her front against his. He wasn’t comfortable. His chest was too hard for that. Despite that, it was still an amazing feeling to be pressed against Hugh. Grace didn’t want to move—ever.

 
“Poor Gracie.” His arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in a bear hug, and Grace decided that was even better than the massage thing he’d been doing earlier. Cuddling her against his chest, he kissed her temple. His mouth stayed close, and she felt his next words brush across her skin. She shivered and then decided that, for her own mental health, she would just pretend that she hadn’t reacted, that Hugh was not attractive, and that she didn’t find him stupidly appealing. “What’s your real name?”

  “Kaylee.” It felt strange to say it aloud now.

  “Kaylee,” he repeated, as if trying it out. “Hmm. I like Grace better.”

  “Too bad,” she grumbled, although she wasn’t annoyed enough to move yet. “I’m not going to change it just to make you happy.”

  “Grace fits you. You’re very graceful.”

  The compliment made it hard to build up much indignation, so she just shrugged, the motion moving her body against his. “Whatever. Grace is fine.”

  “Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “It doesn’t annoy you?”

  “Not really.” She couldn’t hold back a yawn.

  He hummed. “That’s not fun, then.”

  She raised her hand to smack him, but it was halfhearted at best. “Jerk.” Her arm fell back to her side. “I don’t care what I’m called. I just want this to be over.”

  “I’m kidding. Kaylee’s a pretty name, too.” His arms tightened around her. “I promise we’ll get Jovanovic put away so you can go back to your life.”

  “Grace is good. I’m used to it now.” She ignored the rest of what he said. As much as she wanted to be free of Martin Jovanovic’s death threats, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to give up Monroe, Colorado. The harsh truth was that, right now, the thought of her LA home didn’t bring the same melancholy feeling as it had a few days ago. At this moment, Grace was completely content to stay right where she was, wrapped in the warmth and safety of Hugh’s bear hug.

  “You still with me, Grace?” he asked. Even the underlying thread of teasing humor wasn’t enough to force her to pull away. She knew that once she stepped out of Hugh’s embrace, she’d have to return to reality, and reality had been a little too full of near-death experiences lately. “You’re not glaring at me or telling me how annoying I am. This new docile side has me worried.”