“Anyway,” Nick continued, “she got pissed and left. Now, she won’t answer her phone. I figured she’d go to one of her friends’ houses, so I stopped by to try and make up with her.”
“Well, sorry you’re in trouble with her already, but Carlie and I aren’t really the type of friends to run to each other.” He shrugged. “Not that I wouldn’t help her, but we aren’t close. You might check with Shelley, the waitress from the shop. They’re pretty tight.”
He doubted she was with Shelley, but there was no reason to alarm Muhammad. “Good thinking. I’ll see if she knows anything. Sorry for disturbing you.”
“No problem. Hope she forgives you.” Muhammad gave him a sympathetic glance before shutting the door.
Nick feared Shelley wouldn’t have any more information than Muhammad. He climbed into his car, wondering if it would be completely foolhardy to go bang on Stephen Chance’s door instead of heading to Shelley’s house.
Before he could decide, his phone rang and he glanced at the screen. ‘The Boss’ came up and Nick’s pulse accelerated. No reason for Paul to call after already meeting him tonight. He swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“I forgot to mention something,” Paul said.
“What’s that?”
“Hmmm... Maybe you figured it out already.” Paul laughed. “You sound a bit flustered. Everything okay?”
As if you care. “I can’t get a hold of Carlie. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Carlie.” His boss spit the word, a strong reminder he didn’t like Nick getting personal. “The target is probably having some trouble right about now.”
Nick swallowed hard. “Where is she?”
“I told you we needed to speed this investigation up. I’ve made arrangements for you to be the hero, Nick. It will move this along so the President can calm down.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ve been working toward gaining the target’s trust. What did you do to help my mission?” Not that Nick supposed it would be any sort of help.
“I paid someone to rough her up so you can come to her rescue. You’d better get to her house fast. I told him to take his time, but I imagine by now she’s desperate for help.”
“She’s not at her house! I was just there.” Nick punched the steering wheel, struggling to keep the frustration from his voice. “Who has her?”
“Not at her house? Well, well, well. I wonder how he convinced her to go somewhere with him. He was supposed to do it there.”
Nick took in three deep breaths, knowing he had to calm down. It would be dangerous to both him and Carlie if Paul figured out Nick was worried about her. “I can’t play the hero if I don’t know where she is, sir. Who has her?”
“Stephen Chance, the one who dated her before. She upset him and he was happy to help out.”
Nick started the car and tore down the road. It was a ten-minute drive to Stephen’s house. He hoped that’s where they went. “What, exactly, did you ask him to do?”
“I told him I didn’t care what he did, as long as she needed rescue and would be grateful to her savior. I promised he wouldn’t be hurt, so play nice.”
“I wouldn’t have promised that, boss. The target is a tough woman, and I can’t guarantee I’ll behave. I hate that jerk.” Nick shot through a red light without slowing, thankful the drunks hadn’t left the bars yet and most folks were safe in their houses this time of night.
“Well, actually, I don’t care what you do to him. He was supposed to stay at her house, so you could save her and we could find out what she knows.” For the first time, Paul sounded angry rather than amused. “Just don’t kill him. That’s messy and harder to make disappear.”
S.A.T.O. had sunk to a new low—now an organization that hired jackasses to attack women and then made the record disappear. Nick hung up without saying anything further, afraid what might come out of his mouth.
He raced another yellow light, entering the intersection just after it turned red. Blue and red lights erupted from the top of the car behind him.
“Shit!” Nick considered gunning it for a second. Only the knowledge that a full-on chase would delay him longer made him pull over to the side of the road.
He readied his fake ID and a badge claiming he was an FBI agent. He’d feed the officer a story about needing to make it to a crime scene and hope it would speed up the process.
Chapter Seven
“Get away from me.” Carlie shoved Stephen’s chest. “Now.”
“Oh, come on, love.” He stroked her hair. “Having some together time is a lot more fun than what I’m supposed to do.”
Her breathing accelerated as she fought back panic. “What do you mean, what you’re supposed to do?”
“We don’t have to do what I was hired for.” He shifted slightly, though his weight still trapped her on the bed. “All you have to do is lay there and enjoy, Carlie. This will be fun. Other women can’t wait to get into my bed. Why do you resist? Don’t you want me?”
“You aren’t God’s gift to women, Stephen. Get away from me.” She took a shaky breath, but tried to put on a brave front. “If you let me go, I won’t report this to the police.” Not that she wanted the police involved anymore than Stephen probably did.
“You don’t need the police. Give me a chance. I want to show you how great things could be between us.” He covered her mouth in another rough kiss.
Carlie squirmed beneath him and beat her hands against his shoulder, desperate to get free. The killers had found her and hired Stephen to get rid of her. That was the only reason he would bring her here, pretending to be drunk, and then have something he was ‘supposed to do.’ She had to get away. She was sure his orders were to kill her after he had his fun. She wouldn’t sleep with him. Fighting was the only option.
He stroked her side, ignoring her struggles, and his tongue broke through her closed lips.
Hooking her fingers into claws, Carlie raked them across his face.
That got his attention.
Stephen jerked back. The deep gouges in his cheek filled with blood. “Bitch.” He sat up, but before she could take advantage of that, he backhanded her, full force.
Although tears blurred her vision, she rolled away. She thought karate prepared her to take a hit, but nothing could prepare her for that.
Somewhat disoriented, she managed to roll off the far side of the bed and onto the floor. Something tickled against her cheek and she wiped away a streak of blood from her split skin.
The bed creaked and Stephen’s boots made muffled thuds into the carpet. “I’ve never gone full out, you know, Carlie? Not really.” He laughed. “Since you don’t want me, I get to indulge my other fantasy. Beating a beautiful woman to death.”
His footfalls came closer and closer. Carlie scrambled to get her feet beneath her, crouching against the wall as a wave of dizziness gripped her. She’d only have one chance. Stephen could easily overpower her in a fair fight.
He stepped to the end of the bed and stared at her. A wide smile spread across his face. “This will be the easiest money I’ve ever made.”
Carlie lifted her hand to her bloody face and huddled against the wall. “Please, Stephen. Don’t hurt me.”
“Begging is such sweet music to my ears.” He took a step forward. “Too bad that won’t save you. I don’t like rejection, and I gave you so many chances.”
Her knees shook beneath her and it was hard to wait, but she had to surprise him. “Please, please, don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything you say.”
Another slow step. She could tell he enjoyed her fear, enjoyed thinking about hurting her. Another step.
“Please.”
He cracked his knuckles, smiling like an idiot. One more step.
Carlie shot up, thrusting her fist into his stomach with all her momentum.
“Oomph.”
Victorious, she didn’t stop there. Standing the rest of the way, she gripped his shoulders and rammed her knee int
o his crotch. Only to encounter the hard plastic of a protective cup.
The blow was still devastating enough that he collapsed on the bed, shallow gasps coming from his mouth.
Carlie jumped over his legs, intent on reaching the doorway before he recovered. She was almost there, only a few more steps.
Fingers twined in her hair. Her head snapped back, and he yanked out a chunk of hair.
Without thinking, she spun into a high roundhouse kick, putting more power behind it than she’d ever dared. More hair ripped from her skull, but she ignored the pain as the heel of her shoe connected with Stephen’s face. Blood exploded from his nose.
Though she thought for sure that would end the fight, Stephen kept his feet and lunged for her. Wrapping his hands around her neck, he rushed her into the hallway and slammed her head against the wall. A sick smile crossed his face and his fingers tightened against her windpipe.
She punched repeatedly to his gut, but it appeared to have no effect. Hot blood dripping from his face coated them both. Carlie twisted and turned, hoping the slick liquid would loosen his grip. She felt faint from lack of oxygen and didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. Colors faded and her arms were leaden. Every punch sapped energy she couldn’t spare.
It was the wrong tactic to try to fight him. She should have screamed her head off the second she got away. No longer able to lift her arms, she twisted desperately, hungering for air.
Knowing he had the victory, but apparently not wanting it too soon, Stephen loosened his grip marginally and Carlie sucked in a shallow breath. He drove his knee into her stomach three times in rapid succession then released her.
She slid down the wall. Blood rushed back, roaring in her ears as it pulsated through her head. It was over. She couldn’t fight him, not anymore. So much for standing up for herself. Carlie closed her eyes, barely having energy to take small breaths in past her raw throat.
His hands closed around her again. She struggled weakly, but all hope was gone.
Carlie wondered if her new friends would miss her. The date with Nick had been the best she'd ever had. She concentrated on the image of his brooding eyes, trying to find a happy place while she waited for death.
***
Nick squealed the Porsche’s tires as he tore into the parking lot. He jerked the car into a spot near Carlie’s Camry. Stephen definitely had her at his mercy.
Barely taking time to shut off the engine, he flung open the door and raced up the sidewalk. Tension consumed him. Even if Carlie was guilty, this wasn’t the way to handle the case. He hoped he got inside before she was hurt.
Without knocking, Nick tried the handle on Stephen’s apartment, which turned readily in his hand. He shoved it open and strode into the living room. A small moan drew his attention and Nick stepped down the hallway.
The image of Carlie on the ground, Stephen’s hands around her neck, blood covering her face, prodded him into action. He ran toward them, putting all his momentum into a kick against Stephen’s chin. Stephen’s head snapped back and he fell to the ground. Carlie gasped loudly, but didn’t open her eyes.
Though dazed, Stephen tried to stand up, but fell against the wall, blinking his eyes in an owl-like fashion. Nick leapt over Carlie and gripped Stephen’s head in one hand and his chin in the other. Blood pounded behind Nick’s temples. He’d never been so close to losing control. One twist and Stephen would never bother Carlie again.
“Nick.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it called him to his senses.
He slammed Stephen against the wall behind them, giving a quick chop to his neck. Stephen twitched, but didn’t try to get up again. It pleased Nick to note the bastard looked almost as bad as Carlie. She hadn’t gone down without a fight.
Making his way to Carlie, Nick dropped to his knees and took her hand in his, not sure where else he could touch her without causing pain. “Hang on. I’m going to call an ambulance.” That would probably piss Paul off, because there would be more records to delete, but Nick didn’t give a shit right about now.
Her hand tightened against his. “Please, no, don’t.” Her voice was weak and a deep cough wracked her body, ending in a wheezy breath. “I’m okay, but they’ve found me. Protect me. Get me out of here.”
Did she know the government was after her? “Who found you?”
“The killers.” She made an effort to open her eyes, though they appeared weighted down and she wasn’t quite focused. “The police can’t know who I am. I need your help.”
Nick ground his teeth together, hating that Paul’s plan was effective. Carlie just let him into the inner circle. “You need a doctor.”
She shook her head gently. “Most of the blood is his. I’m dazed, but I think I’m okay. Take me somewhere safe, please. I can’t fight them. I was wrong.”
He scooped her into his arms and stood, cringing when she winced. “Who can I call for you, Carlie? Who are you working with?”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “What do you mean? I’m not with anyone. The killers found me. Help me.”
Walking toward the doorway, he tried once again. In her dazed state, he had a better chance of getting information out of her—though he hated himself a bit for doing it. “I mean, who’s helping you here in town? Muhammad?” Another thought occurred to him. “Shelley?”
“You. You’re the only one. I prayed you’d find me somehow, save me from him.” Coughing wracked her body again. “It hurts to breathe.”
“The jerk choked you. You’ll be sore for a while.” He stepped outside, hoping if he left the door open someone would happen by and finish Stephen off. “Let me take you to the ER.”
“Shoot. No. I’m sorry. I’m asking too much.” She lifted her head off his shoulder, the blood coating her face shifting to a rusty brown as it dried. “Put me down. I’ll drive myself home. I shouldn’t involve you in this.”
He grunted and held her tighter, carrying her to his car. He opened the passenger’s door and carefully placed her inside, pulling the seatbelt across her lap and fastening it. “Where are your car keys?”
She patted the pocket of his suit jacket, which she still wore, and pulled out keys.
He took them from her and closed the door, walking to the Camry. After placing the keys beneath the driver’s side floor mat, Nick swiped his smart phone and brought up the boss’ phone number.
“You find her?” Paul asked in greeting.
“At Stephen’s house. Your little errand boy needs help, but he’s alive. Carlie’s keys are in the usual place. Get her vehicle back to her house, then stay away from this case. Either that or pull me from it. I had things under control.”
“Don’t presume to tell me what to do or I’ll—”
“Have me taken out? I thought we were closer than that, but I guess times change.”
“Be reasonable,” Paul said. “We’re talking about something bigger than you and I, Nick. Your target and her terrorist friends are dangerous. We have to think about the people they’ll hurt if they succeed.”
“I know that.” It was the whole reason he joined S.A.T.O. He wanted to protect people. Nick walked to the Porsche, unable to see Carlie through the dark tinted windows. “That’s also why you need me now more than ever. The target’s spooked and somehow knows you’re on to her. She said I’m the only one she can trust.”
“It sounds like you want to protect her. You don’t think she’s innocent, do you?”
“Innocent until proven guilty, isn’t that the way our country works?”
“Find the bracelet, Nick. I know she has one. Then you’ll see I’m right.”
What if she did have it? She was afraid, and she didn’t want police involved. There had to be a reason. Having a piece of jewelry that could wreak havoc on the country would be a good reason to want to remain anonymous to the police.
He sighed. “If she has the bracelet, or I can connect her to the terrorist organization, I’ll do things your way. For now, let me do it my w
ay.”
“I’m counting on you. The whole country is.”
Disconnecting the call, Nick climbed into the car. Carlie breathed regularly and she appeared to be asleep, though he hoped she wasn’t unconscious.
“Carlie, hon, can you wake up a little?”
“Hmmmmm.” She shifted in her seat, but then cried out, opening her eyes. “Crap. That hurts.”
“I’m going to drive you home, okay? I’ve arranged for your car to be taken there later.”
She shook her head as though to clear her confusion. “I can’t go home, Nick. I thought you understood. I need your protection.” She sighed and looked out the windshield, avoiding his gaze. “I shouldn’t drag you into my problems. Go ahead and take me to my house.”
Searching her place could wait for another day. The target had to believe he was on her side.
“You’re coming home with me, Carlie. I won’t let anyone else hurt you.”
Chapter Eight
Carlie must have drifted in and out of consciousness. Time flew at a rapid rate—either that or Nick sped through every light in town. She closed her eyes again, just to rest them for a moment.
Someone grabbed her shoulder and shook it. Carlie tried to bat them away, but pain erupted in her stomach when she shifted. With supreme effort she opened her eyes. Nick stood over her outside the open passenger’s door.
“Can you hear me?” Concern narrowed his dark eyes. “Are you sure we shouldn’t take you to the hospital?”
Truthfully, she wasn’t sure. However, she knew hospitals wanted things like social security numbers and insurance forms and payment. She had none of those things and feared they would call the police.
Without a friend’s help, she’d never have been able to open a business while staying in hiding. She worked so hard for this dream, and if her enemies had found her, it no longer mattered. Then again, Stephen might just be a random creep, upset she wouldn’t date him. If that were the case, she needed to stay hidden from bigger threats. She couldn’t visit the hospital.
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