Courting Danger

by Kimberly Dean

  Did she think she was somehow protecting him? Damn it, he never should have left her alone.

  Instead of waiting for the elevator, he bounded down the stairs. He was calling for backup as he scanned the massive hallways. They were nearly bare now that the shows had started. The murmur of voices and the lilt of laughter echoed through the walls.

  ‘Sweep the terraces,’ he barked into his phone. ‘Fan out and check the lounges and the galleries.’

  The place had so many nooks and crannies where people could hide.

  ‘His name is Eddie Hamilton. Brown hair, glasses, five-foot-ten, one-seventy pounds. Rielle is with him unwillingly.’ He didn’t need to describe her. She’d been checked out by Mike and everyone else on his team. They’d made it clear they weren’t willing to put their safety in the hands of ‘someone who was being led around by his balls’.

  Darien rubbed a hand over his breastbone. It wasn’t his balls that were aching now.

  He ran for the front entrance, but stopped before he burst out the doors. Being loud and clumsy would help no one. He yanked his focus into place and cleared his thoughts. He could help her, but he had to find her first.

  He eased out the door without making a sound. It was sunset, and the sky was awash in blues and pinks. The Kennedy Center was lit, and the white marble columns glowed. For someone looking for the shadows, he was lit up like a Christmas tree.

  He looked out across the Center’s campus. It was well lit, with lights atop every post. He saw a few couples strolling and a man on a bike, but no Rielle.

  Where the hell was she?

  He rubbed his temple. Busy streets lined the front and back of the Center, but plazas lay to the north and south. They were hard-surfaced, though, with no trees or landscaping to provide cover. Unless Hamilton had pulled her onto a bus or into a car, there was little place to hide.

  A car.

  The parking garage.

  Darien moved. None of his team was checking in. They hadn’t found her yet. Instinct told him he was on the right trail. He had to be. He just needed to get to her fast. With each moment that passed, the danger for her increased.

  Hamilton had been unravelling more quickly every day.

  Parking Level C. No. Darien quickly rejected it. It was mainly for donors, and he didn’t see a computer geek from Baltimore being a patron of the national arts. He moved without hesitation to Level B.

  The garage was filled with cars, but devoid of life. In two hours the place would be a mass of running engines, smelly exhaust and glaring lights, but for now it was silent. An echoing chamber with shadows at every turn. He slipped into a dark corner and palmed his gun. Calming his breaths, he tried to listen over the pounding of his heart.

  There were no voices. He heard the clink of an engine cooling down, and then, off in the distance, the steady click of heels on pavement. High heels.

  He burst into motion, bending down to travel low. The footsteps were one or two aisles over, heading to the end of the lot where latecomers had been forced to park. He cut between cars to bring himself closer. The footsteps were slowing. He needed to get to her now. If Hamilton got her off the premises…

  He needed to get to her now.

  He stopped for a moment to peek over the hood of a Buick. Rielle’s white dress reflected the dim lighting overhead, but the glimpse of her was enough.

  He’d found her.

  Now he could go to work. Placing his steps even more carefully, he closed the distance.

  ‘There, the blue one on the end,’ Hamilton said. His voice was raspy, thick from allergies.

  Darien took cover behind a concrete pillar and considered the situation. Hamilton wasn’t touching her, but he was following along closely behind her. Why wasn’t she fighting? Why was she walking along meekly like a lamb?

  They walked beneath one of the garage lights, and that was when he saw it. The light wasn’t bright, but it was enough to glint off the blade of a hunting knife.

  They made it to the blue car, but Rielle’s footsteps stopped.

  The car tweeted and the lights flashed when Hamilton unlocked the doors with his remote. ‘Get in the car.’

  ‘No.’

  Darien tried to keep his breaths steady. Her voice was quiet but strong.

  Hamilton grabbed her arm and yanked so hard she stumbled. ‘Get in the car!’

  ‘No!’ Rielle pulled back from him, but he lifted the blade and shoved it in front of her face.

  Everything inside Darien roared.

  He came out of the shadows at full speed as the two began to struggle. Rielle knew Muay Thai, but she’d never been in a real fight. She’d never gone up against someone with a weapon. She latched onto Hamilton’s knife-hand with both hands and came in with a sharp knee-strike to his gut.

  Eddie doubled over with a loud grunt. Darien lifted his gun as he charged forward, but he couldn’t take a shot while Rielle was entangled with the man. Eddie pushed back. Her heels were a disadvantage, affecting her balance, but she brought one down on his foot. He let out a howl.

  Unfortunately, pain brought with it anger, and Hamilton yanked on her braid. The move brought her head down, dangerously close to where they were struggling over the knife.

  Darien was nearly there, but Hamilton sensed him charging up behind him.

  When he looked over his shoulder, Rielle made her move. Not caring that he was ripping her hair out by the roots, she pushed into him. Darien saw the knife cut into the smooth skin of her forearm, but she kept going. Using a sharp uppercut, she knocked Eddie’s head back. Before he could recover, she used his momentum against him.

  He was leaning into her, trying to gain control of the knife, but she put her shoulder into his solar plexus and flipped him onto his back.

  Following through like Darien had taught her…

  He tackled Eddie on the ground before he could get back up.

  ‘Darien!’ Rielle screamed. ‘Oh, my God.’

  Pain ripped through Darien, but he quickly subdued the man. The knife clattered to the ground. Rolling him onto his stomach, Darien held Hamilton immobile with his knee against the small of his back. ‘Rielle,’ he said sharply. ‘Get the zip ties out of my pocket.’

  He caught the man’s wrists and brought them together. Eddie kicked and bucked and swore. He managed to rip one hand loose.

  Darien caught it again, but his vision wavered.

  Rielle had dropped to her knees. She was trying to squeeze her fingers into his front pocket, but all Hamilton’s wriggling was making things difficult.

  ‘Hurry, Beautiful,’ Darien said.

  She pulled out the plastic tie. Her nails bit deep into Eddie’s skin as she helped trap his wrists together. She pulled the zip tie tight and sagged back onto her haunches.

  ‘I didn’t see you,’ she gasped. ‘I didn’t know what to do. You told me to stay, but he had the knife.’

  ‘Rielle…’ He pushed his gun towards her.

  She began to shake. ‘I was so scared.’

  ‘Rielle…call…’ He pressed a hand to his side. ‘Call an ambulance.’

  Her head snapped up. ‘Darien? Oh my God. Darien!’

  He’d been stabbed.

  He wobbled backwards, and Rielle lunged for him. She caught him, but she couldn’t control his weight. All she managed to do was keep his head from hitting the concrete floor. Crawling over him, she searched for the wound. It wasn’t difficult to find. Blood was already seeping through his grey suit jacket. He’d been stabbed in the side. Without thinking, she covered the wound with her hand and pressed hard.

  ‘You don’t belong with him,’ Eddie hissed. ‘He made you a whore. You belong to me.’

  ‘Shut up, Eddie.’

  She looked at the knife sitting on the pavement beside him. Blood covered the blade.

  Her purse was a few feet away. Refusing to let up on the wound, she reached out with her foot, hooked the strap and pulled it to her so she could get her phone. ‘Stay with me, Darien. Talk to
me.’

  ‘Keep the knife out of his reach.’

  ‘He’s handcuffed.’

  ‘Keep the knife out of his reach.’

  She kicked the stupid knife away and dialled with one hand.

  ‘I hope he rots in hell,’ Eddie said before breaking into a coughing fit.

  ‘My boyfriend has been stabbed,’ she told the dispatcher who answered her call for help. ‘I need police, and I need an ambulance worse. Kennedy Center, parking level B. Tell them to get here fast.’

  ‘Where’s the wound?’ the dispatcher asked.

  ‘His abdomen.’

  ‘Apply pressure to stop the bleeding.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘How’s his pulse?’

  Rielle pressed two fingers to his neck. ‘Fast. Too fast.’

  Darien’s blue eyes were glazed as he looked up at her. ‘It gets that way whenever you’re around.’

  She gave him a watery smile. Oh, God. He was in trouble. ‘Make them hurry,’ she begged the dispatcher.

  She set the phone on the ground at her side and cupped his face. ‘Come on, baby. Talk to me. What happened upstairs? Did you get the bad guy?’

  He coughed. ‘Got them…both.’

  Eddie rolled over and tried to sit up. He was muttering and cursing. Rielle eyed the gun. The temptation was strong.

  She looked at the blood seeping into Darien’s jacket. ‘Tell me how I did on that move. Did I follow through OK?’

  ‘You…did…great.’

  ‘You weren’t supposed to fall on the knife.’

  ‘Had to. I…love…you…’

  His eyes fluttered, and Rielle held back a sob. ‘I love you, too, Darien. Come on. Please.’

  His eyes closed, and his breaths shortened.

  ‘Darien? Darien!’

  Oh, God. She needed help now.

  A thought occurred to her, and she patted his pockets, searching for his phone. ‘Damn it!’ she cursed when she discovered it was password protected.

  ‘Untie me, Rielle.’ Eddie said. ‘You can come home now.’

  ‘I am home, Eddie. With him.’

  She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth. Think. She could see it. She’d flipped through his call history.

  Her eyes popped open, and she grabbed her phone. ‘I have to make another call,’ she said frantically.

  ‘Don’t hang up on –’

  She cut the dispatcher off and hurriedly dialled the number she’d seen once on Darien’s phone. ‘Answer. Come on, answer.’

  It only took one ring before a male voice came on the line. ‘Hello, who is this?…Darien. What’s happening? Did you find her?’

  ‘Mike,’ she said, her voice jumping. She’d never met the man, but he knew who she was. Darien had powerful connections; he should, too. He was Darien’s partner. ‘It’s Rielle. Darien’s hurt. Help me. Oh, God, please. You have to help us.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Darien awoke with a jolt. One moment he was sleeping, and the next his senses were alert. He quickly assessed his condition and instinctively reached for his gun. Only he wasn’t armed. He wasn’t even dressed. He was in bed in a strange room he’d never seen before.

  Actually, it was a nice room – much nicer than the hospital room.

  His brain quickly re-indexed. He’d been in the hospital in a bed that was much smaller and a thousand times harder than this. The sheets here didn’t feel like they were trying to sand off his skin.

  Where the hell was he? What mission was he on? What had happened to him? He needed to contact his people.

  He sought out any markers that might give him an indication of his location. The room was painted light beige, with cherrywood furniture. The lamp on the bedside table had a blue shade to match the bedspread, and the digital clock read 7.32.

  Was that morning or evening?

  The shades were drawn over the windows. Felt like morning.

  His gaze dropped to the other side of the bed. The sheets were mussed and the pillow was dented. Relief swept through him, though he couldn’t say why, and his interest piqued. His gaze swept the room again until it landed on something on the dresser that looked out of place. He squinted harder. Were those boxing hand wraps?

  Rielle.

  He surged upright, but let out a hiss of pain when his body protested. He looked at where he’d automatically grabbed his side. A surgical bandage was taped over the spot where Hamilton’s knife had punctured his stomach.

  Gritting his teeth, he sat up and dropped his feet over the side of the bed. The bedding tugged halfway off with him. He pushed it back and waited for his head to steady.

  He heard sounds coming from somewhere else in the apartment, and he got to his feet. He had to see her. He had to know she was OK. Walking took more energy than he remembered, and he stumbled forward. He propped himself up in the doorway. ‘Rielle?’

  Her head snapped up so fast, her hair bounced.

  ‘Oh, my gosh.’ She flew out of the kitchen. ‘What are you doing up?’

  He didn’t complain when she acted like a human crutch on his good side. She felt warm and soft and safe. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. She smelled like jasmine. ‘I get the feeling I’ve been down for too long.’

  ‘A few days,’ she said.

  ‘Seems longer.’ Bits and pieces of memories were coming back, but they were out of synch. He remembered those rough sheets. There was a stern nurse wagging a finger. A needle in the back of his hand had itched. There was even a guy with a Mohawk, but he had no idea who he was or where he fit in or if he was even real.

  ‘You’ve been hyped up on pain pills.’

  ‘Things are a bit foggy.’ Foggier than he wanted to admit. He pressed his lips against her temple. There was just one thing he cared about. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Me?’ She let out a half-sob. ‘You’re the one who scared me to death.’

  A flash of white caught his eye, and he grabbed her wrist. There was a bandage on her forearm that matched the one adhered to his side. ‘Damn it. I knew he got you. Did he cut any muscles or tendons?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She kissed the faded bullet wound he’d gotten years before. ‘We’ll just have scars to compare.’

  Red coloured his vision. He hated that he hadn’t been able to stop that bastard marking her. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In jail. He hasn’t been able to raise the bail money the judge set.’

  ‘Morgan got him good?’

  ‘Attempted murder for what he did to you.’

  ‘I don’t care what he did to me. He needs to pay for what he did to you.’

  She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. ‘He’s also charged with stalking, attempted kidnapping, assault and something to do with invasion of privacy for the computer thing. Nina feels terrible about that. The detective keeps telling her it wasn’t her fault. I’m the one who opened the email and set it loose.’

  ‘It wasn’t either of your fault. It’s all on Hamilton.’ Darien closed his eyes when he remembered her struggling over the knife with that crazy freak. The wound at his side throbbed, and he cupped his hand over the bandage. He was glad he’d been able to subdue the guy before he’d lost consciousness. ‘So I take it I’ll live?’

  ‘Yes, but will you please sit down?’ Her doe eyes glistened as she looked up at him.

  He brushed his thumb across her cheek. For her, he’d do just about anything.

  She helped him back to bed, but he was already feeling better. Moving had gotten his blood flowing, and his brain didn’t feel quite so sluggish. He sat on the edge of the mattress and she crawled up onto it. Tucking her legs underneath her, she snuggled in close.

  ‘You got lucky,’ she said. ‘The knife missed your vital organs, but there was muscle damage. It’s going to take time for it to knit back together. The doctor said you’ll be stiff and sore for a while. No lifting or heavy physical exertion.’

  He rubbed a strand of her long hair between his thumb a
nd forefinger. ‘I guess that means you’ll have to be on top.’

  ‘Darien,’ she said with a sigh.

  He wound the strand around his finger to pull her closer. ‘Where are we, Beautiful?’

  Her lashes fluttered, and her cheeks turned pink. ‘My apartment.’

  ‘I thought I couldn’t come here as long as you were my escort.’

  ‘Technically, that contract ended when you put those cuffs on Eddie.’ Her lashes raised, and she looked at him steadily. ‘You’re my boyfriend now…I hope…’

  Boyfriend, lover, significant other. He’d take whatever label she wanted to put on him. ‘Rielle, I told you that I love you, didn’t I?’

  He remembered fighting with Hamilton. He remembered the sharp pain and then trying to stay awake as they waited for help. Most of all, he remembered that telling her had been the most important thing in the world, but had he managed to say it?

  ‘You did.’ She licked her lips nervously. ‘I said it back.’

  He leaned closer. ‘I remember.’

  It was what had allowed him to close his eyes and relax. Knowing she loved him was enough.

  She rose on her haunches, and their mouths met in a soft kiss. Lips on lips, tongues brushing gently. She pulled away shyly, and he smiled.

  ‘So have I moved in?’

  ‘Kind of. The doctor wouldn’t release you if you were going to be on your own. Mike helped me get some of your things.’

  ‘How did you get me here?’

  ‘You don’t remember?’

  ‘Those pain pills must have been potent.’

  ‘Mike and Stingray helped. You’ve been asleep for over twelve hours.’

  And he’d been in the hospital for days before that. He didn’t know how many. All he sensed was a gaping chasm in his memories. He really didn’t like losing time like this.

  Given the other option, though, he could stand the unyielding blackness. She’d been holding her own, but she would have had to incapacitate Eddie in order to stop him. If that madman had managed to get her into the car…

  Darien blew out a hard breath. ‘You had me scared, too, baby. When I came back to the restaurant and found you gone, I almost lost it.’