His gaze travelled slightly to his right-hand side, looking out over the rolling crowd to the pounding waves. The south easterly had sure picked up and would provide a few good curls for anyone up to a wave in the morning. The onshore breeze also generously provided his highly tuned animal senses with the hint he was looking for.
Gotcha!
His gaze zeroed in on her. Oh yeahhhh!!
She was there to his right, not more than fifty feet from him. Her scent and frequency profiles meshed, confirming that this was the woman he was looking for.
And what a striking looking surprise she was. The file photo he’d been given did not do her justice. If he hadn’t specifically been looking for her tonight, he thought that he would have noticed her anyway. She sure was striking and hard to miss. Her mink coloured hair, falling in long, lush waves, framed her high cheekbones, and set off her unusual hazel eyes. Her rosebud mouth with a sensually full bottom lip drew his attention and turned his thoughts to a subtly more male orientation.
When he moved slightly forward to the microphone and joined in the chorus with “Taaake me baaabyyyyyy , maaaake me yours tooonight,” her eyes moved up to meet his and he knew he had her attention. Bingo! She held his gaze momentarily before becoming self-conscious. Her eyes slipped from his and began to look out into the endless gyrating waves of revellers around her. So she was a little unnerved by the directness of his gaze.
Her eyes returned to his and again he held the connection. Minky, as he thought of her now, broke the connection again. So she wasn’t sure if he was looking at her. Well, he thought, let’s make sure you’re not confused any longer, Minky. The next time her eyes returned to his face, he raised his eyebrows and openly smiled at her. Yep, it’s you I’m interested in tonight, sweetheart.
***
“Rihanna.” Her friend Jasmine was shaking her arm. All the time, her eyes never left her new man.
“What?” Rihanna screamed over her right shoulder to her friend. The music and crowd were so loud even her scream was lost.
“The lead guitarist—he’s staring right at you,” Jazz screamed right back.
“I just realised that myself.”
“Do you know him? He’s not the regular Steel lead guitar. He seems to be filling in for Reece and doing an awesome job of it.” Jazz was a huge Steel fan; she had dragged Rihanna to many concerts over the years and Steel was her current favourite band. Rihanna’s music knowledge and interest tended to only extend to what was currently being played on the radio but she usually agreed to go along with Jazz, often just as an excuse to get out and enjoy herself.
“No, I don’t know him,” Rihanna yelled again, her throat beginning to smart at having to yell to communicate with her friend next to her.
“Well, he sure looks like he would like to know you better,” she yelled. “Hey look, over there, coming down across the road, there’s Andy and Mitch.” Jazz started to move past her and deeper into the crowd, heading towards the road. Rihanna could see Andy’s blonde head moving swiftly toward the beach and the edge of the group enjoying the band.
Andy was Jazz’s on-again, off-again boyfriend. He worked as a chef at a local seafood restaurant. The hours he worked didn’t help with keeping the relationship together. But at least Jazz had a relationship, which was more than Rihanna could say about her own life. She had been going through one hell of a relationship drought of late. It had been months—no, make that nearly two years—since she had had a man in her life, and even then he’d been nothing more than a casual date. Her life revolved primarily around her work and her father. They’d both become quite obsessed with the Hendra vaccine project.
Rihanna looked back to the stage as the song ended to an enthusiastic round of applause and a whole heap of whistling. The butterflies started to rise in her stomach. He was still looking right at her. Her skin was tingling from his almost visual caress. She decided to settle back and play the “gaze game” with him for a while. What could a bit of harmless flirting hurt?
***
Ahhh, Minky, he thought. So you realise the connection and now you’re coyly flirting with me from afar. Their gazes connected, sharing some sort of silent conversation with the overtones of the music.
He played on song after song in the set, as midnight steadily approached. He realised he was actually having a really good time. There was nothing much better than playing a gig with his mates. Bray just didn’t get to do it all that often, much to his and their disappointment.
Jace began the countdown to midnight: “Ten, nine, eight.” He saw Minky moving off farther to his right. From his height advantage on the stage, he could see her tracking across to join the slim redhead who had settled on the edge of the crowd with a couple of guys. “Seven, six, five.” Minky still had a good twenty metres to cover when he realised she wasn’t going to make it to her friend before the countdown to midnight finished. Ahh shit, he thought. He really didn’t want a girl who looked like that in the middle of a boisterous New Year’s Eve crowd by herself. His animal instincts were beginning to act up again. He was feeling the familiar increase in pulse and heightened sense of awareness that always preceded danger.
“Four, three, two.” He saw the dark head move in close to Minky and place a casual arm around her shoulder; her stance immediately stiffened. His gut tightened into a hard knot and he could smell her fear spike up through the crowd. “One. Happy New Year!” A huge cheer went up from the crowd. Champagne poppers exploded everywhere and party whistles filled the air with the din of a thousand sea birds. The smell of her fear intensified and spiraled towards him across the crowd. He kept his eyes focused and zeroed into the back of her head. He could not afford to lose sight of her.
***
Rihanna’s nostrils filled with the reek of stale sweat and garlic—or was it curry? Yuck, it was gross. Her heart had lodged itself in her throat and her veins throbbed with the adrenaline of fear. The big man had placed his arm around her shoulders and then stuck something against her that she could only presume was a knife from the point tickling her right ribs as they moved through the crowd.
“Keep your mouth shut. Keep moving and don’t make me use this,” the man growled into her ear. She caught another horrific blast of his breath. Rihanna hastily scanned her eyes left and right, looking for anyone who might notice she was in trouble. Her brain was frantically processing her options of potential escape. The crowd was hindering any options. Nobody noticed her being dragged from the crowd at knifepoint. They were all too close and focused on the music, the atmosphere, and one another. Amazing how she could be in a crowd but be so alone.
Her fear seemed to have peaked at the “extreme” level. Be calm…think…you can get out of this, she kept telling herself. What she needed was room. She needed to think ahead and prepare for what opportunities of escape may present. Her mind whizzed. Her body shook with fear. The knife continued to prick her ribs every few paces, a very real reminder of the danger she was in.
As the crowd roared with the welcoming of the New Year, Rihanna decided her plan. As they moved through the edge of the crowd, she would try to pull away. She needed room to be able to achieve this and the crowd simply did not provide the opportunity.
They were almost at the edge of the crowd when he dragged painfully on her shoulder and barked into her ear, “Don’t try anything stupid or I’ll stick you hard, bitch.”
Oh shit, things have definitely got worse and her fear level had just hit an all new high. Had she telegraphed her intentions?
As they reached the edge of the crowd, the lead vocal said, “We’re gonna take a little break and let you all get a drink and maybe a New Year’s kiss.” Another loud roar went up from the crowd. Her mind was foggy to anything but the knife in her ribs and how she might get away. Just as they made their way through the last of the crowd, another man approached quickly from her left—her opportunity to get away had just been foiled for the immediate future. Her best hope was that one of her friends might
have noticed her heading off with a couple of strangers and wander over to investigate.
Shit, Shit, Shit. Jazz probably thought she was still making goo goo eyes with the lead guitar. How could she have been so stupid to get separated from her friends on a night like this? All because she was too focused on flirting with somebody she would never even meet. Stupid, Rihanna, stupid, she mentally chastised herself.
***
He had to move quickly. Fortunately, that wasn’t a problem for him with his animal speed. When he’d realised what was going on, he’d immediately motioned to Jace to take a break. He had just about ripped the strap off his Fender in the hurry to get off the stage and find her before that guy did God knows what to her. He lost sight of her as he slipped off the side entrance to the stage and into the shadows of the temporary structure. Her fear was clear and allowed him to easily track the direction her captor was taking her. Adrenaline caused by fear let off a unique scent, which made tracing her simple.
Brayden covered the ground as quickly as he dared. Having incredible animal speed was one thing. Not drawing unwanted attention was another. He skirted around the edge of the area that the portable lights were illuminating, using the dark to conceal his presence. His nose was telling him he was quickly gaining on them. He caught sight of them up ahead. The trio, as it had now become, was about to leave the beach and cross the esplanade, into one of the darker side streets, he guessed. Looked like they had picked up an additional hand.
He saw Minky stumble and limp when she stepped onto the road. He noticed she was barefoot. He sensed and saw the pain shoot through her. She had obviously stepped onto something and cut her foot. The smell of her blood was now mingling with her fear. He needed to get her out of there and fast.
As he expected, the two goons led her down a narrow street into the loading dock at the rear of a hotel. He was trailing about a hundred metres back. A white van was waiting there. He guessed that was their transport. Bray took a quick glance around to make sure nobody was paying him any obvious attention and then sprinted noiselessly behind them. He covered the distance in less than three seconds.
***
Rihanna could feel herself becoming increasingly terrified. She thought she had a fair chance against one but two was much less of an option. All she could hope for at this stage was that by going along with their plans, an opportunity to get away might present itself. Why they had grabbed her hadn’t even entered her mind. Getting away was all she could think about.
The guy on Minky’s left reached for the sliding door on the side of the van when a voice came out of the shadows.
“Let her go and I’ll consider letting you live.”
Excitement rained through her. It was music to her ears but at the same time left no doubt as to the menace and cold hard intent of its owner. The owner of the voice stepped forward from the shadows and Rihanna immediately recognised him as “her man.” Relief tentatively began to rise in her heart.
The guy to Rihanna’s left turned and lunged for her man. Mr. Lead Guitar neatly swiveled and drove the man into the side of the van with a kick to the solar plexus like she’d never seen before. The guy must have travelled five metres before coming to rest, slumped in a heap on the ground. He wasn’t getting up anytime soon and the side panel on the van would need some serious time in the shop.
The other guy had changed his stance; he closed his grip around her shoulders and slid her in front of him. The crook of his arm was now depressing her windpipe. Her breath was coming in short gasps and the knife was now pressing sharply just below her left breast.
“Back off …or I’ll—” He never finished his sentence. Mr Lead Guitar was beside her, holding her close and supporting her weight. How could she have been at knifepoint one second and in the safety of his arms the next? Somehow he had closed the distance, disarmed and decommissioned her attacker. She didn’t even recall him moving; how did he do it? Had she blacked out from lack of oxygen?
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice softening in concern as he reached up to brush some loose hair from her face.
“No, just very shaky and a bit sore,” Rihanna managed, the words catching in her bruised throat. Her shoulder felt as if it had been jarred.
“If you’re going to be okay for a minute, I just need to check on something.”
She nodded, not wanting to pain her throat any more. He gently guided her to a low wall.
“Just sit here for a minute, honey. I’ll be right back.”
Not wanting to leave the warmth or strength of his embrace, Rihanna reluctantly perched on the low brick wall he had guided her to. She watched him walk to the two thugs who had assaulted her. As lousy as she felt at that particular moment, conflicting emotions running through her, she didn’t fail to notice or appreciate the width of his shoulders tapering to his narrow waist, his tight hard butt, or his long athletic legs. He sure was built and just about every woman’s fantasy man.
He bent down and started going through their pockets. What was he doing? Then she realised, he was checking them for identification.
“Just as I expected. No ID.”
She watched him pull a cell phone from his pocket and place a call. She caught snippets of a conversation about what had happened. He must have been calling it in to the police. Rihanna gave herself a mental slap. Snap out of it. She hadn’t even thought about calling them herself. The cops must get a hundred of these calls every New Year’s Eve.
After finishing the call, he walked back to her, and extended his hand to her.
“Come on, you don’t need to sit here and look at this scum any longer.”
She went to move forward and stumbled. “Ouch. Ouch.” She began to hop on her left foot. The adrenaline had subsided enough that her foot had become very tender where she’d cut it on broken glass as they had crossed the road.
Before she could say another word, he’d scooped her into his arms and was heading back down the street towards the beach. Reality kicked in and Rihanna realised she didn’t even know his name. She knew as much about him as the guys who had grabbed her, which wasn’t much. But for some reason, she felt safe with him. She just realised then that whoever he was, she hadn’t even thanked him.
“I guess I should thank you,” she croaked, her throat still very tender. She really needed something to drink and maybe one of those anaesthetic lozenges. She wriggled slightly in his arms and unintentionally snuggled a little more closely into the spot just under his collarbone. She noticed how good he smelt. It was some sort of fresh citrus smell. Mmmm, it was definitely making her hormones do a happy dance.
“No need. All part of the service.” He paused and then added, “My name is Brayden, by the way…Brayden James.”
“Well, Brayden, I’m very pleased to meet you.” Damn, another mental kick. Did she really have to emphasise the word “very” so much? Would he take it as a come-on or as gratitude for coming to her rescue? Ah, what did it matter? She was safe. It then occurred to her to ask, “Where are you taking me?”
“I thought we’d head back to the dressing rooms behind the stage. You can get cleaned up there, and get out of this mob scene.” As if on cue, a group of noisy revelers came the other way, yelling “Happy New Year.”
“I need to finish up the last set before we pack it in for the night.”
She then remembered the earlier flirting of the evening. Of him keeping gazes locked across the crowd with her. She felt a rush of embarrassment flush over her face and neck. It then occurred to her to ask the obvious question. “How did you know I was in trouble?”
“I was watching you and then it just didn’t seem right that you would head off with that guy when you didn’t head off with your friend. Then I just got this feeling that you were in trouble so I followed along.” There, he’d said it. Now, would she buy it?
The fundamental rule of any mistruth was to keep to the truth as much as possible. She didn’t say anything immediately, probably thinking over what he had sai
d. To distract her, he asked, “You never did tell me your real name. I’ve kind of been thinking of you as Minky in my head.”
“It’s Rihanna Mason.”
He nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Rihanna.”
“Why Minky?” she asked.
“Because of the colour of your hair. It reminds me of the gorgeous play of colours in mink coats.”
Whatever she thought, she was struggling to see it, but if he liked it, who was she to argue?
***
It suited her, he thought. He shifted her weight slightly in his arms so that he could increase his stride length. He needed to get back to the stage for the final set and he needed to make sure she was safe.
As they rounded the portable building behind the stage, a beefy guy in black with an earpiece motioned forward and drawled, “Hey mate, we were just about to send out the search party for you.” He raised his eyebrows at the sight they made. A harsh frown from Brayden was enough to convince him to reconsider voicing the thought that was clearly running through his head.
“Rihanna is going to hang out here for a bit. Make sure no one bothers her.”
“No probs, Bray.”
With that, Brayden scaled the three stairs and was through the door into the surprisingly plush portable building. He placed her carefully on the leather lounge that ran down one side of the room. Without a word, he moved to the other end of the room and immediately went to the wall-mounted first-aid box. He rummaged through until he found what he was looking for.
Brayden sat beside her and motioned for her to put her foot across his thigh. He took a quick look and then started to clean the wound with some antiseptic swabs.
“It doesn’t look like it needs stitches. Are your tetanus shots up to date?” he asked as he carefully cleaned the wound.
“Yes, I work with animals so tetanus boosters are a necessity.”
Finding Trust (Centre Games) Page 2