by Rayna Vause
Chris shrugged and sat. “He still thinks I’m a charlatan, but I’ve got a job as long as I keep making money for Carnival W.”
“Better than nothing, and it gets ‘Mr. Appropriate Corporate Image’ off our backs for a while. Job well done.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
She reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Hey, is everything really okay? I know Jack can be an ass, but you can’t take it personally. He’s just super protective of certain things and people.”
He slouched in his chair. “Yeah. I can see that. Anyway, how’d things go with the police?”
“Long and pointless. Fortunately, Connor took care of the report. He, at least, didn’t look at me like I’d lost my mind, but he convinced me to let the crime scene team do their thing. But I’m cleared to go home now, thank god. I had no intentions of letting some freak chase me out.”
“Who’s Connor?”
“A detective with the local police. We grew up together.”
Chris shifted his gaze to the black industrial carpeting. “Are they together?”
Angelica shook her head. “I think they experimented together when we were young, but it never went any further than that.”
The tension that packed into his shoulder since the moment he’d had the vision of Jack and Connor eased. He met Angie’s gaze. “Are you sure?”
“I was a master of sneaking and spying as a kid. Jack had very few secrets from me.” She winked at him.
Chris huffed out a laugh. “Good to know.”
“I should get back to it.”
He reached out and rubbed her arm. “Do me a favor and please be extra careful.”
She smiled. “I always am.” Angelica gripped his hand. “How about a reading on the house?”
Chris rolled his eyes, but he still straightened in his chair and met her gaze. “Ready?”
She blew out a breath. “Yep. Lay it on me.”
Images rushed through his mind. Anger and hatred not his own flooded through him.
When he opened his eyes, he gripped Angelica’s hand. She gasped and tried to yank free.
“Ow, Chris! Yikes. What is it?”
“Promise me something. Let me walk you out to your car tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t want you in the CW garage alone.”
“What did you see?”
“I’m not really sure. It was all disjointed. I felt a lot of anger. The one clear thing was the garage. Maybe it would be better if you just used a car service and bypassed the garage altogether.”
Angelica shook her head. “No. I’m not going to live my life in fear. I’m not going to run and hide because something might happen.” Her violet gaze locked with his. “But I will let you walk me to my car tonight.”
Chapter Four
CHRIS scanned the rows of cars as he walked Angelica to her vehicle at the end of the night. Nothing caught his attention. No suspicious characters lurked in the shadows. Lights flooded the area and shiny new security cameras kept silent watch. Everything seemed fine, secure.
Then the first shot rang out.
“Down! Get down now!” Chris shouted as he dragged Angelica to the ground. He pushed her between two parked cars, urging her to crouch as low as she could and move all the way to the back. Shots echoed through the garage, dinging off metal and ricocheting off concrete.
Shit! Shitshitshit! “We have to get out of here and call the cops.”
Angelica nodded at his whispered words, her eyes wide and round, pupils blown. She screamed when a window shattered, raining glass shards down on them. They huddled close together, both attempting to keep their ragged breathing as quiet as possible. Think, Chris. What would Jason Statham do? He paused. Probably kick butt and take names. Bullets continued to ping off metal and concrete. Chris slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a scream when glass rained down on him. He shook his head to dislodge the pieces stuck in his hair. He drew in a slow breath. Calm down and focus. We need to get out of here now. What would they do on NCIS? You’ve seen every freakin’ episode. Think, man, think.
The gunfire paused and Chris froze. Nothing. Not a sound. “Move quickly and stay low. We’re going to head for the exit.” He breathed the words, asking any higher power that would listen to get them out of there safely.
They made their way between the cars and the wall, creeping toward the metal door they’d entered through earlier. The door that led to the safety of the club.
A fresh barrage of gunfire erupted, and Chris did the best he could to shield Angie beneath his body. She swore under her breath as bullet after bullet sounded, creating a wide path of destruction.
The shots stopped again. Squealing tires and a roaring engine rang through the garage, then trailed off. Chris stayed as still as possible just listening, straining to catch any noise. He assumed that the shooter had driven off, but he couldn’t be sure. He searched for any indication of someone else still there, waiting for them to emerge.
An endless moment passed. The garage lights buzzed and the ambient sounds of evening could be heard, but nothing else.
He nudged Angelica. She whipped her wide-eyed gaze to his. Chris gestured toward the stairway door, which seemed miles from their hiding spot.
“Hello? Is anyone up there?”
Angie stifled a shriek when a voice called out from the bottom of the ramp.
“Move. Move now.” He yanked Angie to her feet and tugged her toward the door. They rushed away from the approaching footsteps, using the cars as a barrier. When they reached the last car, Chris held up his hand and counted to three. Racing across the unprotected area, they dashed through the door and scrambled down the stairs back into the club.
A SHORT while later, Chris and Angelica sat on the couch in Jack’s hotel suite, making statements to Detective Connor McCord. He stood six feet tall with lots of lean muscle, wavy, black hair, and the darkest brown eyes Chris had ever seen. Any other time he’d have been right up Chris’s alley. But right now the evening’s events and his current interest in a certain CEO overwhelmed and consumed him. Still the little voice in the back of his mind wouldn’t shut up about the fact that, once upon a time, Connor and Jack had been together.
“Chris?”
“What?” He shook his head, pulling out of his thoughts.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“One minute we’re walking toward Angie’s car, the next, bullets start flying and the world went nuts.” Chris rubbed his arms and sucked in a shuddering breath. His heart rate had finally started to slow, but adrenaline still coursed through his system.
“Did you see anyone? Did you catch a glimpse of the car? Anything that could be helpful?”
“No. I’m sorry.” He shook his head.
“Angelica?” The detective’s cool, dark gaze slid to Angie. She sat next to Chris, her back ramrod straight, her hands fisted in her lap.
“No, Detective McCord,” she snapped. “I was too busy trying to avoid being shot.”
Chris took Angelica’s hand. It trembled in his grasp and he squeezed. “Angie, please. That’s not helping.”
“Sorry.” She returned the gesture.
Jack crossed from the bar to the couch. He held a snifter of brandy in each hand and gave one to each of them. “Drink it. It’ll help.”
Angelica released Chris’s hand and accepted the glass. Then Jack sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head on her brother’s shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to her hair.
“Do either of you have any idea who would come after you in this manner?” Connor looked at Chris. “A client unhappy with a reading maybe? Do either of you have any enemies?”
Chris shook his head. “I can’t think of any enemies and I’m not aware of any complaints. Even so, killing me over a reading seems a bit extreme.”
Connor shrugged. “There are all kinds of crazies out there.”
“Tell me about it.”
Connor lo
oked at Angelica. “How about you? Any ideas? And I mean besides everyone you meet?”
Angelica flipped him off. “You’re a real comedian, McCord.”
Connor’s mouth lifted at the corner before he controlled his smile. “Just trying to lighten the mood a little. You may be able to remember more if you’re calmer.”
Angelica shook her head. “I honestly can’t think of anyone who would do this. No odd characters around the club. No threats. I wish I could be more help.”
“Hopefully we’ll find something in the garage that will point us in the right direction. Between the shooting tonight, the break-in at your house, and the vandalism of your car, I’m betting this guy left something behind we can track back to him.”
Chris pressed his hands against his thighs, rubbing the soft fabric of his torn and dirty pants. He tightened his stomach muscles to control the shakes doing their best to emerge. Angelica reached out, linking her fingers with his again.
“Thanks for walking me to my car tonight, Chris. I don’t know what I’d have done without you there.”
“You’re smart and tough. You would have gotten yourself out, but I’m glad I was there. Sort of.”
“Why were you there?”
Chris could almost see the wheels turning in Jack’s head.
Just leave it alone, please. Apparently, that was too much to ask.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you were, and I personally think Angelica should always have an escort in the evening, but generally she fights me on that.” Jack looked back and forth between them.
Chris’s gaze locked with Angelica’s. Please don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything.
Jack rose and stepped toward him, suspicion in his eyes. Chris could not deal with Jack’s skepticism right now, and the police would never believe him in a million years. He wouldn’t be surprised to find himself accused of something. Hell, he’d been with Angelica both times something dangerous happened.
Chris focused his attention on the brandy snifter he held. He lifted the glass and sipped. Chris hissed as the liquid burned its way down his throat, and then he set the glass on the end table.
Angelica rose and placed a hand on Jack’s arm. “Jack, let’s count ourselves lucky that he did.” She turned to Detective McCord. “If you’re through with me, I’d like to go home. It’s been a long damn night.”
“Yeah, we’re done here. I’ll touch base with everyone again tomorrow.”
Jack wrapped his arms around Angelica and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Chris’s throat tightened. Just for a moment he wanted Jack’s arms around him, holding him close, reassuring him.
“Yeah, me too.” Angie squeezed her brother back.
“I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.” Jack let her go after a final squeeze.
“With a little luck, you won’t have to find out anytime soon. It takes more than a nut with lousy aim to take me out.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Stepping back, she swiped at her eyes and smoothed her skirt.
“I’m exhausted. Good night, everyone; I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned and headed to the door.
Before she could head out, Connor stepped in front of her.
“What? What do you want now?” Angie dropped her head back and released a loud groan.
“Give me your keys?”
“Why?” She frowned.
“Because I’m taking you home.”
“Thank you, but I’m capable of getting home on my own. I will, however, accept a police escort to my car, possibly even to my door.”
“I’m aware you are capable, but I’m going to play chauffeur tonight,” Connor insisted.
Jack cut in. “Ang, if it’s easier, why don’t you just stay here tonight?”
“No. Thanks, but I want my own bed.”
Connor stared at her for a moment, clenching his jaw, muscle twitching.
“Ang, could you not argue with me for once in your life? Someone just shot at you. Your car is part of an active crime scene, and you can’t access it right now. You can have your tantrum after you get home and I’ve checked it out, but for right now you’re coming with me even if I have to carry you. Give me your damn keys.”
Angelica rolled her shoulders. Uh-oh, Chris thought, preparing for the explosion. Jack stepped in before this minor skirmish became a full-scale war.
“Ang.”
“What?” She snapped out the words before she could rein in her temper.
“Let Connor take you home. Do it for me. I would feel better if he were with you. Call me when you’re ready to come in tomorrow. Even if I have to send the town car instead of coming myself, at least I’ll know you’re on your way and have an idea of when to expect you.” He cupped her cheek and Angie caved.
She nodded and walked to the door. She shot a narrow-eyed gaze back at Connor. “Well, are we going or not?” With her head high and her hair flying behind her, Angelica marched out the door and down the hall to the elevator.
Rolling his eyes, Connor followed, closing the door behind him.
Jack walked over to Chris. “How are you doing?”
Now that the adrenaline had leveled out, he couldn’t stop the shakes he’d been fighting off all night. Goose bumps rose on his arms. Jack stepped close enough that his body heat warmed Chris. He laid his hands on Chris’s arms and rubbed.
Jack’s touch steadied him. He had to resist the urge to lean forward and rest his head on Jack’s strong shoulder. Then Jack surprised Chris by skimming a hand over his hair and brushing his fingers in the lightest caress over his cheek.
For a brief moment, Chris let himself lean in and accept the support offered. “I could have lived without the experience. I’m just glad both Angie and I came out of it unharmed.”
“When I got word of the shooting…. I’ve never been so scared.”
“If I’d heard my family was attacked, I’d have been terrified too.”
“I wasn’t just worried about my family.”
Chris’s gaze met Jack’s, and as they watched each other, Chris found it difficult to take a full breath. Static electricity danced along his skin. Then Jack released him, and as fast as it rose, the spark dissipated.
Jack paced back to the couch and stared at the floor. He shoved his hands into his pockets. Tension vibrated in every rigid line of his body but his tone remained calm, all business. “I know you’re probably tired of questions, but I need a few answers.” He pivoted and lifted his hard, silver gaze to meet Chris’s.
“I don’t know what more I can tell you, Jack. I told Detective McCord everything I know.”
“I don’t think so.”
It took a mammoth effort for Chris not to look away, but he managed to keep his eyes steady on Jack’s. “What is it that you think I know? I’ve said it before, Angie is my friend. I would never do anything to put her in danger.”
Jack strode back to Chris, invading his space and causing Chris to stumble back a step. Jack grabbed and steadied him but didn’t release him.
“Tell me the truth. I want the whole truth, not the edited version you and Angelica gave Connor. All this craziness started after you showed up on our doorstep. First the break-in and the crazy texts, now this shooting. What the hell is really going on, Chris?”
“I wondered how long it’d take you to jump to that conclusion. The fact is, it actually started before my arrival.”
“What?”
“I think it all started with those strange phone calls she was getting leading up to the club’s opening.”
“What strange calls?”
“She didn’t really go into detail when she mentioned them, but they were coming frequently enough, she started forwarding her calls to her assistant during the day and only answering known numbers in the evening.”
“She never mentioned this to me.” Jack pressed his fingers to his eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Chris
held up a hand to stop Jack’s tirade before it could get underway. “First off, she only mentioned the calls in passing. Second, it’s not my job or my place to come running to you with all the details of Angelica’s life. If she wanted you to know, if she felt it was important enough, I’m sure she would have told you.”
“Are you kidding me? If my sister is in danger, I need to know. She could have been killed, just as easily as you. You should have said something. I want to help you, Chris. I really do. I want to keep you both safe, but I can’t do that if you won’t let me in. Please.”
He looked at Jack’s pinched expression and harried appearance. Chris rubbed a hand down his face. This wasn’t just about him. Other people’s lives were on the line and they had a right to know everything. Jack and Angie couldn’t protect themselves without the full truth. But convincing Jack would be the hard part.
“I’ll tell you what I know, but I need you to listen to me with an open mind.”
Jack nodded. The tightness around his mouth and eyes eased.
“A few weeks ago, before I came to see Angelica, I started having dreams, nightmares really….”
“What does this have to do with—”
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
Jack gestured for Chris to continue.
“In these nightmares, something terrible happens to me. At least I think it’s me. I’m seeing and feeling everything from a first person point of view, so I can’t be certain.”
“I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”
“Jack, I drown. I die. At least I think it’s me.”
Jack blinked at him. “But it’s just a dream. And what do you mean ‘you think’?”
“Just a dream—that’s what I told myself at first. But these are more than dreams. And I say ‘think’ because I don’t actually know whose eyes I’m looking through. I’m assuming it’s me.”
“But it could be someone else?”
Chris nodded and dragged his hand through his hair. “I wish I had more information to give you. I came here two weeks ago because my mother had a premonition something bad was coming, and it involved Angie.”