Run from Fear

by Jami Alden

  “Yeah, and I told you I don’t think we have anything else to say to each other. Especially lurking outside my dorm waiting to give me a heart attack.”

  “Wait.” Kevin grabbed her arm. She tried to jerk away. “Come on, Rosie, I said I was sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t mean crap,” she said. “I’m tired of chasing after you all the time just so you can treat me like shit.”

  “What, you think that nerd you met tonight is going to treat you so much better?”

  The anger that surged through her gave her the strength to jerk away. “You were following me?” She shook her head. That explained the creepy tingle. “We’re done, Kevin. You have no right to know where I’m going, who I’m meeting, and you sure as hell don’t have the right to stalk me all over town.” She grabbed her backpack from where she’d dropped it on the ground. “Asshole,” she muttered. “Talia was right about you from the beginning.”

  “Yeah?” Kevin called as she stomped up the walkway to her dorm. “You better watch out, bitch. No one gets to treat me like this, not you or your cunt of a sister.”

  Rosario’s back stiffened and she forced herself to ignore him. As she walked up to her room, she told herself it was nothing, just a bunch of smack talk from an idiot who was sky high and didn’t like the word no.

  It took her half an hour to stop shaking.

  Why? Why now? Talia wondered as she drove home with Jack’s headlights glowing in her rearview mirror.

  As expected, he hadn’t even acknowledged her halfhearted protest that he didn’t need to stay at the restaurant, quietly nursing a cup of coffee at the bar while he waited for her shift to end so he could see her home safely.

  And in truth, Talia was more than happy to have him there. The appearance of that damn necklace… She shuddered and gripped the wheel harder.

  It brought back too many memories. Of David’s fingers fastening it around her neck. The way the delicate chain felt as heavy as a slave’s collar.

  Its coolness against her skin when she lay helplessly on the floor, forced to watch Nate Brewster murder equally helpless women as his knife sliced through her own skin.

  She hated to admit the weakness, but she needed Jack there, his strong, steady presence chasing away the darkness.

  And, God, the way he’d held her. His hands so big and warm against her back, pressing her in close to that mile-wide chest of his.

  His scent had flooded her senses, clean and woodsy layered over male musk. Chasing away the demons. Folding her in a cocoon so safe and warm that the bad guys would never be able to get to her.

  There had been something else there too. A vibe, an energy, an awareness that was new for her.

  If he felt it too, he gave no indication. There was nothing in the way he touched her that would lead her to believe that the hug was any different from one he might have given to his little sister.

  Yet she couldn’t get the feel of him, the scent of him out of her head. For longer than she could remember, she’d tolerated a man’s touch with gritted teeth and reminders that it couldn’t last indefinitely.

  But tonight all those weird yearnings she’d started to feel around Jack were converging around a need. To be held. To touch and be touched, by a man who was big and tough and who had seen and done things that would bring a lesser man to his knees.

  A man who would cut off his own arm before he hurt her, she knew.

  Yet that didn’t mean he felt anything more, she thought as she turned into her driveway and clicked the button to open the garage door.

  Still, she couldn’t stop herself from wishing as Jack pulled up behind her and parked in her driveway. He got out of the car and followed her in, waited while she disarmed the alarm and unlocked the door before following her into the kitchen.

  Wishing she could go back, way back, to when she was just a normal young girl looking for love. Before she’d been stupid enough to fall in love with David Maxwell, too blinded by his charisma and grand romantic gestures to see the evil that lurked underneath before it was too late. Because if she was that girl, even if she wasn’t sure about how Jack felt about her, she would have the guts to try.

  Instead of awkwardly offering him a cup of coffee as he took up all the space in her kitchen, she’d lead him to the couch and pour him a glass of wine. Or something stronger.

  She’d laugh and flirt and toss her hair like she used to do in high school. Get Jack to smile back and flash those dimples while they talked about anything else but Talia’s safety and how she was getting along in the big bad world.

  She’d tilt her head back, part her lips, make it obvious she was waiting for his kiss.

  And she’d never have the memory of the way his eyes had darkened with revulsion the one and only time she’d made it clear she wouldn’t turn down his advances.

  “Do you want me to stay?” Jack asked around a yawn. “I can take the couch.” Lines of fatigue formed around eyes that were nevertheless on high alert and full of concern.

  And nothing else.

  She shook her head and swallowed around the lump in her throat as she watched him go. Even if there was a chance Jack’s feelings might have changed, the memory of his total and complete rejection that long-ago night was enough to prevent her from ever making any kind of move.

  And even if she did, she didn’t think she’d ever be capable of following through.

  Chapter 5

  The flowers were waiting on her front stoop when Talia got home from work Friday night.

  She didn’t realize what they were at first when the glare of her headlights revealed an unfamiliar object on the small landing of her front door. Talia parked the car and entered through the garage as usual. She went to the door, trying to remember if she’d ordered anything recently that would have been delivered.

  She flipped on the porch light, opened the door, and bent to look. She didn’t need to look to know they were gardenias. They scent wafted up, strong, sweet, making her stomach clench with nausea. She slammed the door shut and swallowed back the bile.

  When she was reasonably sure she wasn’t going to heave up the gnocchi she’d had for dinner, she forced herself to open the door again. She scanned up and down her street, but at this hour her quiet street was deserted, the houses dark and buttoned up for the night.

  She didn’t want to bring the vile blooms into the house, so, breathing through her mouth, she knelt on the flagstone landing and felt around for a card. Nothing. She picked up the container and held it closer to the light, but she couldn’t see anything to indicate where the flowers came from or who had sent them.

  Just like the necklace.

  Her legs went watery and the flowers tumbled out of her hands. The plastic container split, leaving a pile of dark soil and white flowers on the stone. Talia went back inside and slammed the door. She rubbed at her nose, but she swore the sweet stink was leaking through the door.

  The smell had once filled her with such pleasure. Stupid girl that she’d been, she thought they were a symbol of true love from a good man, someone who was going to lift her out of the mess her dead mother had left behind and give her the kind of life and love she’d only dreamed about.

  That was before she’d seen the evil truth behind the mask he showed to the rest of the world. Before the beautiful flowers he sent every week became yet another symbol of her captivity.

  Who sent them? she wondered as she sagged down to the floor, one hand pressed against her chest to stop her heart’s frantic pounding.

  And did the sender realize the significance? How? The only person who knew about the gardenias was Rosario, who had never asked why Talia always threw away the flowers as soon as they arrived.

  She went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of red wine and tried to come up with a logical explanation.

  But she kept coming back to the same place: the necklace David had given her and the same flowers he used to buy her showing up in the same week? It couldn’t be a coincidence.

>   Unless… the scenario was so unlikely it was ridiculous. But even as her brain screamed at her that there was no way Jack had bought her flowers, much less the same exact kind David Maxwell used to send, her fingers had dialed Jack’s number before she could stop herself.

  She tried not to be devastated when her call went straight to voice mail. Idiot. Of course Jack was busy, on a job. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around waiting for her to call.

  She considered calling the police, then dismissed the idea. All they would do was take her statement and file a report, something that could be just as easily taken care of in the morning after she confirmed what she already knew—they didn’t come from Jack.

  She set the phone down and sipped at her wine and thought about turning on the TV to distract her. But even as she tried to convince herself there was a nonsinister explanation for both the flowers and the necklace, she couldn’t shake the idea that with the TV on she might not hear someone creeping around outside.

  She picked up a magazine from the pile on her table and jumped, sloshing coffee everywhere when her phone buzzed to signal an incoming text.

  Working, can’t talk. What’s up?

  It was from Jack.

  Talia quickly wrote back before she could think better of it. Did you send me flowers?

  Why would I send you flowers?

  The blunt question startled a laugh out of her, even as she felt a little pinch in the region of her chest. Why indeed? That’s what I thought. She texted back.

  WTF is going on?

  Nothing to worry about. Will explain later.

  R U SAFE???

  She looked around the house, at the locked windows, bolted doors, thought of the state-of-the-art alarm Jack had installed. She wasn’t sure.

  Jack texted her again. Coming over. 20 mins tops.

  Part of her wanted to let him, but she knew it was overkill, not to mention unfair for her to make Jack abandon what was clearly a high-profile client. Whoever had left the flowers was gone. Talia was safe inside her house and no one was getting in without her knowing about it.

  Not necessary. She texted back quickly. Am fine.

  Stuck here all night. Do you want me to send Ben? Or Alex?

  No, she didn’t want either of Jack’s old army buddies and now coworkers camping on her couch, no matter how creeped she was feeling.

  I am fine, she reiterated. Talk tomorrow.

  She turned off the ringer and stuffed the phone into her purse so she wouldn’t hear it. She knew Jack, knew he would keep texting her, trying to get her to tell him what was going on.

  But for months she’d managed to keep quiet about the identity of her sugar daddy while Jack had her tucked away in a safe house, despite his constant badgering. He could wait until tomorrow to hear about the flowers.

  Talia could hear her phone vibrating in her purse as she walked up the stairs to climb into bed.

  By the time Jack tracked Talia down at Gus’s gym the following afternoon, he was mad enough to throw a few punches himself. Talia had ignored all of his phone calls and texts, forcing him to do a drive-by after he’d left the Blankenthorns at two in the morning to make sure everything was okay.

  He’d found her car in the garage, the house locked up tight, and the log from the alarm system indicating no one had entered or left the house since he’d received her text.

  Still, he needed to talk live or, better yet, see her in person before he’d feel at ease. But she’d blown off his earlier phone calls, and by the time he finished a morning debrief with Danny, he knew he’d most likely find her here at the gym.

  He had a few hours before he had to be back at the Blankenthorns’ for an event, so he quickly changed into shorts and a T-shirt and joined Talia where she was doing push-ups on the mat.

  Jack took a jump rope off a peg and started his warm-up. “Hey.”

  She was at the top of her push-up and barely looked up at his curt greeting. His irritation eased a little as he admired her form. Though slender, she was strong, the sleek muscles of her back shifting as she lowered herself to the floor and smoothly pushed herself back up. When she was finally done with the set, she rolled into a seated position and reluctantly took the hand he offered.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  He figured she wouldn’t take it well if he admitted that he was as familiar with her daily routine as he was with his own. “Unlike you, Rosie doesn’t ignore me when I call her. You want to tell me why you haven’t called me back?” Jack asked, and resumed his rope work.

  “I’ve been busy,” she said, a little out of breath. Her hair was damp around the edges and the neckline of her tank top was dark with sweat.

  “Too busy to return three calls and half a dozen texts?”

  “They don’t like you to use your cell phone at the police station,” she snapped.

  Jack stumbled as his feet got caught in the rope. “What. Happened.”

  Talia looked around as though to make sure no one was listening.

  “This is about the flowers?”

  When Talia had texted him last night asking him if he’d sent her flowers, his immediate reaction was anger. Even though it was none of his business if Talia dated, the idea of another man trying to get in her pants made his blood simmer.

  “They were at my house last night when I got home. No card, no name of the florist. Totally anonymous.”

  Jack bit back a curse to have his suspicions confirmed. After he’d reined in his irrational anger, he’d realized that Talia probably wouldn’t have contacted him if she hadn’t been scared. It wasn’t exactly her style to call him just to shoot the shit.

  “And it freaked you out.” He couldn’t blame her. Some women might like the idea of having a secret admirer, but not Talia. Not after spending too many years constantly watched by the sick fuck who controlled her.

  “It wasn’t just that they were anonymously sent,” she said. “I wouldn’t have gone to the police for that. I’m paranoid, but not that paranoid. But they were gardenias.”

  Jack cocked an eyebrow. He didn’t know anything about flowers. “Not following.”

  “David sent me gardenias for the first time two weeks after we met. He sent a fresh batch to my house every week until Nate tried to kill me.”

  Jesus fuck. “The necklace and now the flowers. That can’t be a coincidence.”

  Talia slipped on her gloves and strode across the room to work on the big bag. “Yeah, try convincing the police. When I went to talk to them this morning, they said it’s probably someone who knows me from the restaurant, trying to gear up the courage to ask me out.” Her fist made a loud thwack as it hit the bag. “And they said even if there’s malicious intent, there’s nothing they can do until someone actually tries to hurt me. Not every girl gets a stalker who sends her flowers and jewelry, right?”

  He went to work on the bag next to Talia’s. Jack knew firsthand how bad the police could be at protecting women and children. Sure, flowers and jewelry might seem like pretty benign offerings, but there was no predicting when a harmless crush could turn violent.

  “And then they asked me if there was anyone who might want to cause me harm. I was like, where do I start?” Thwack. “With the dozen or so government muckety-mucks who got fired when those videos were leaked?” Thwack. “Or what about their families that fell apart after the scandal hit? Or maybe the families of the girls who were killed while I stood by and did nothing?” Thwack. She landed a series of jabs in quick succession, then paused, breathing hard as she bent over with her hands on her knees. “I’m not even saying I wouldn’t deserve it if someone tried to come after me. It’s just… there’s been nothing for two years. Why now?”

  Jack shook his head, his mouth tightening as he saw a look of self-loathing cross her face. He hated that she was still eaten up with it, that even though she’d moved on with her life, a big part of her still believed she deserved everything that had happened to her now.

  “You wer
e as much a victim as any of those girls,” he said, his jaw clenching as she shook her head in mute response. He wished he could make her forgive herself, but he knew a few words of reassurance from him weren’t going to erase it.

  He couldn’t fix her, but he could do his damnedest to fix what was happening. All he could do was try to look at the situation objectively and see what they could come up with. And take whatever measures he could to help keep her safe.

  “Who else knew about the gardenias?” he asked. She’d never mentioned it, and he’d never seen any flowers around the club.

  “No one but David. And Rosario, sort of, but she’d never do something like this.”

  Someone was definitely trying to fuck with her, no doubt about it. His first instinct was to scoop her up and tuck her away someplace safe where he could watch over her 24-7 and make sure no one got within a hundred feet of her. But he knew that wasn’t an option, mostly because there was no way she’d go for it. And even if she would, Jack couldn’t just drop everything at work and leave Danny and the rest of the guys holding the bag.

  “Come on.” He led her into one of the empty studios where Gus taught his group classes. “We’re going to brush up on your self-defense moves.”

  Talia grabbed a towel and wiped her face. “I train almost every day—”

  “Yeah, not like this. It’s one thing to know how to fight, but you need a refresher on how to take a guy down if someone comes after you.”

  “I’ll start carrying my Taser again.”

  “You won’t always be able to get to it.” Without warning, he swept her feet out and came down on top of her, pinning her hips with his as he pressed her hands into the floor.

  “Hey.” She squirmed underneath him. “I don’t like this.” She thrashed harder.

  He held her there. “See, like this, you feel totally helpless, right?”

  “Yes.”

  He could hear the undercurrent of real fear in her voice, knew she was starting to freak out at the sensation of being pinned down.

  “First thing, you have to stay calm. You can’t panic.”