Run from Fear

by Jami Alden

  If she had any clue the amount of money he had waiting for him to tap, she’d see what a ridiculous drop in the bucket the two hundred dollars she’d given him was. But ever since Saturday night—ever since they’d slept together—she’d been making an even bigger deal about paying him back. Making it clear that the sex was in no way, shape, or form to be seen as payback for anything he’d done for her.

  It was kind of silly, considering if Jack had his way, eventually they’d make their relationship more permanent in the what’s-mine-is-yours-and-what’s-yours-is-mine category. But for now, he’d indulge in her need to reassure him that any favors she granted, sexual or otherwise, were 100 percent freely given.

  He scanned the crowd again and felt someone jostle his side. He looked down and met the startled face of an older woman in her late fifties.

  “I’m sorry, I just wanted to get to the ladies’ room,” she said, backing up a step.

  Susie’s admonishment in his mind, he did his best to soften his expression. “Of course, I’m sorry,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing with his arm for her to continue.

  His focus went back to the bar. The customers seated on the tall stools along the bar and those sitting at the small tables didn’t appear to pose a viable threat. Mostly couples in their late thirties, a couple of small groups, and a few tables full of women on a girls’ night out. And Rosie, of course, tucked into a corner with physics genius Gene going over her lecture notes for her exam tomorrow.

  He rocked back on his heels and kept his hands folded in front of him, struggling against the urge to twitch. He hated this, this every-nerve-on-alert, skin-too-small-for-his body feeling. More than that, he hated the impotence that came with dealing with an enemy he hadn’t yet identified.

  Jack was a man of action, always had been. Identify the target and go after it. But this asshole—this coward—who had targeted Talia just kept lobbing his little bombs and scurrying back to his hole. Eventually he would fuck up and they’d get a bead on him, but Jack was slowly going crazy from the wait.

  It gave him the best excuse in the world to stay close to her, but that wasn’t enough of a perk for him to tolerate any threat to the woman he loved. He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers. They’d get the guy eventually—failure wasn’t an option. For now he had to dig deep, stay vigilant, and be ready to spring when the opportunity arose.

  He watched as Talia walked over to Rosie and Gene’s table and saw her mouth move. She turned back toward the bar and was heading in his direction when he heard the blast. Everyone jumped and screamed at the muffled boom that came from the parking lot adjacent to the restaurant.

  The chaos was instantaneous as people jumped from tables and ran to see what was happening. “Call 911!” Jack yelled as he pushed through the crowd to the window that overlooked the parking lot. Through the glass, he could hear the din of dozens of car alarms going off, and there in the center was the cause.

  A small sedan—maybe a Honda or a Toyota, it was hard to tell with the flames coming out of the windows—had been hit with an explosion large enough to blow out the windows and set the car on fire.

  This was it. The shit that he’d known was going to go down. He turned to find her, and in that second, the restaurant’s fire alarm went off. He yelled Talia’s name, barely able to hear himself over the din. Desperate to escape a drenching from the sprinklers spraying down from the ceiling, dozens of customers surged for the front door.

  Working against the tide of customers, Jack looked desperately through the crowd and saw that Rosario’s table was empty. He spotted her by the door, Gene at her side as he tried to protect her from the jostling crowd and move her to the door. Jack gave her a quick wave and turned back toward the direction of the bar.

  Talia had disappeared.

  Talia followed Susie’s lead and tried to caution people to slow down and be patient as they moved to the front door. She tried to signal several people to the exit in the back, and finally a large enough chunk broke off in that direction to ease some of the congestion moving toward the front.

  She hung at the back of the throng, ushering people forward to make sure they made it out safely. She did a quick check behind her for Jack, but he must have still been stuck near the front because she didn’t see him.

  There was a little flutter of panic at the thought of going outside the restaurant without him. It was silly, though. There were dozens of people around and she just had to make her way to the front of the building to find him.

  He grabbed her from behind and stuck the knife in her side so quickly she barely had time to take a breath. She could feel the icy point cutting through her blouse, hitting her hard enough in the ribs to feel the sharp tip but not enough to break the skin.

  A voice, deep and gravelly, growled into her ear. “Don’t make a fucking move or I’ll gut you like a fish.”

  In that moment, the restaurant disappeared and she was back there in Nate’s basement. Bound, naked, helpless to defend herself as he sliced the blade through her skin. Her breath seized in her chest and her heart seemed to stop beating as she went down the well, to a place even fear couldn’t reach as she waited for the deathblow to come.

  But she felt herself being shoved forward, and reality came back in a sickening, vertigo-inducing rush.

  “Be nice now, and it won’t be too bad. No one wants you dead. Yet.”

  Fight. You know how to fight.

  The whispering voice grew to a shout as they got closer to the exit, and she knew with every cell in her body that she had to escape before he got them out that door. She shoved the fear away and focused on her training, first from Jack, then from Gus.

  Bracing herself, she pretended to stumble and fell to her knees. She heard the guy curse as his grip weakened for a split second. Flipping onto her back, she swung her leg in a high arc and landed her boot against his forearm.

  He cursed and lunged at her, and Talia sprang to her feet, knowing she wouldn’t have a prayer if he managed to pin her down. Screaming over the still-shrieking alarm, she ducked to avoid his grasp and brought the heel of her fist up hard under his nose.

  She heard the satisfying crunch of bone and his bellow of rage. As he staggered back, she caught him with a solid kick to his chest. He reached out and grabbed her foot, twisting until she felt sure her ankle was going to crack. She lashed out with her other foot, managing a blow to the inside of his thigh as she fell back on her butt.

  He winced and sucked in a breath, his grip shifting just enough for her to slip out of her boot. “You goddamn bitch,” he bellowed, his face a mask of rage, blood streaming from his nose to drench his chin and drip down his shirtfront.

  Her brain automatically took in details of his appearance. He was big—not as big as Jack, but bigger than her and powerfully built under his dark T-shirt and cargo pants. His hair was light brown, clipped close to his head. His misshapen nose dripped blood down his thin mouth and blunt chin. He still had the knife in his hand, held loosely, almost casually. But his dark, deep-set eyes tracked her every move, like a cobra waiting to strike if she made a break for the exit behind him.

  He took a step toward her and she feinted forward as though she were going to make a run for the door. But at the last second she hurled herself into the door of the ladies’ room on her left. The door swung in and she had the fleeting thought that maybe she’d be able to escape out the window or lock herself inside or at the very least find something to use as a weapon to fend him off until someone heard her screaming.

  But her progress was halted as the door hit something and opened only a few inches and refused to budge. She heard a muffled cry as she tried to squeeze herself through the narrow space, then screamed in pain as a fist tangled in her hair and pulled her back into the hallway.

  She flailed with her elbows, not caring if she got cut now as long as she could get away. Suddenly, there was an inhuman roar over the din of the alarm. A heavy impact, and it felt like half of her scalp was
ripped away as her assailant lost his grip on her hair.

  She rolled to her feet, and through the sprinkler shower, she saw Jack bring his hand down on the thug’s forearm hard enough to send the knife clattering to the ground. The man turned and sprinted for the exit, bursting through it hard enough to send the heavy door bouncing against the brick outside.

  Ignoring her shouts, Jack charged after him. Talia followed and made it outside in time to see Jack take the guy down in a flying tackle. They landed in a heap with a sickening crunch against the pavement.

  To her shock, her attacker sprang to his feet, assumed a fighting stance, and hit Jack with two swift blows to the face. Jack countered with a kick aimed at the guy’s chest that he managed to spin away from at the last minute.

  It quickly became clear that the guy had some training, maybe even the same level of training as Jack. His moves were swift and well calculated, and like Jack he seemed to be able to anticipate Jack’s moves a split second before he made them.

  He’d been toying with her, she realized, or maybe he didn’t want her badly hurt in her efforts to fight him off.

  “No way—you stay and fight, you goddamn coward,” she heard Jack yell when the guy made another attempt to flee. Jack slammed him hard against the brick siding, hard enough for any normal man to be down for the count.

  She winced as another blow landed on Jack’s face. Jack grunted in pain but didn’t loosen his grip on the guy’s shoulders. His knee came up, landing a brutal blow against the man’s stomach. Then another and another until the man was sagging, Jack’s hands on his shoulders the only thing holding him up.

  He slid to his knees and she saw his hand snake out at the same time he surged back to his feet.

  “Jack, look out!” she screamed as he struck out with the broken bottle. Jack didn’t need her warning. He saw the bottle coming and jumped out of the way as the jagged edge whipped past his stomach.

  Still, Talia hurled herself at the man’s back, rage at the way he’d tormented her fueling her as she wrapped her forearm around his throat. He grabbed at her, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to leave bruises, but she didn’t care. Riding his back, she squeezed with all her might, determined to take him down.

  She could hear the sirens approaching and Jack shouting. Then she saw nothing but stars as she was slammed hard into the brick wall. All the air left her body in a stunned whoosh and her arms went slack as noodles.

  She sat on her butt, struggling to breathe, and saw Jack charge the man, the look on his face one of such unholy rage she would have been terrified had it been anyone but Jack.

  The man was skilled, but he was nothing against the full force of Jack’s fury. Jack body-slammed him into the brick wall, then swung him around by his arm, twisted his wrist up his back, and ran him face-first into a Dumpster.

  Talia heard a sickening crunch and a scream of pain over the sound of approaching sirens. The guy gagged and sank to his knees, but Jack was relentless. His fist met the guy’s chin with enough force to knock him backward. Jack gave him a kick to the ribs and pinned him down with a knee to his torso. He drew back his arm, his elbow aimed at the guy’s head.

  Talia shook off the last dregs of dizziness as she realized if she didn’t stop him, Jack was going to kill this guy.

  Chapter 18

  Jack, stop!” Talia cried, but he didn’t seem to hear. “Stop!” she yelled again, louder, and this time her voice was joined by several others.

  The cops, she realized as she propelled herself forward and grabbed Jack’s cocked arm.

  His head whipped around, the rage in his expression so fierce that for a split second she was afraid he would hit her without thinking. His eyes quickly softened in recognition but his face remained in grim angry lines. “Let me do this, Talia.”

  Talia wrapped her arms around his torso and tried to tug him away, but it was like trying to move a concrete wall. “As much as I’m enjoying watching you kick his ass, I don’t want to see you get arrested for manslaughter.”

  “It would be worth it.”

  “Not to me,” she said fiercely.

  The cops were surrounding them now, shouting for them to get on the ground, hands behind their heads. She knew if they didn’t move soon, they’d break out the batons and Tasers, never mind that she and Jack were the real victims. She moved her mouth closer to his ear and pitched her voice low, forcing him to listen. “And if you kill him or put him in a coma, we’ll never find out how he knew about the jewelry and the flowers. We’ll never know why he’s targeting me.”

  Jack let her pull him off the guy and stayed low, placing his hands behind his head as Talia did the same. One of the cops, gun drawn, approached with his cuffs out while another checked on the other guy who was on his back, groaning as he struggled to prop himself on his elbows.

  “Wait, Jack didn’t do anything,” Talia protested as the cop clipped a metal cuff around Jack’s wrist.

  “It’s okay, Talia,” Jack said. “We’ll get it straightened out.”

  But Talia wasn’t having it. No way could she stand by and let Jack get arrested for coming to her rescue. Again. She rose to her feet and stepped toward Jack. “No, that guy attacked me,” she said, struggling as another cop grabbed her from behind. “He held me at knifepoint and threatened me. I think he’s the one who—Ow!” she cried out in pain as her arm was wrenched up her back.

  “Hey, ease up!” a male voice called from behind her.

  Talia craned her neck, relieved when she saw Detective Nolan jogging down the alley, flashing his badge.

  Susie followed. “I called him right after I called 911,” she said, looking a little shell-shocked. “I thought he might be able to help.”

  Talia had never thought she’d be particularly happy to see a police detective, but tonight she was damn glad Susie had him on speed dial, especially when a quick discussion with the other officers had them taking the cuffs off both her and Jack.

  She rushed to Jack, wincing when she saw his split lip and his rapidly swelling eye. “Are you okay?” she asked at the same time he did.

  “I’m fine,” she said, and let him fold her into his arms. She tried but couldn’t hide a little gasp of pain when his hand pressed against her back.

  He held her by her shoulders and pushed her back. “He fucking hurt you.” Angry white lines bracketed his mouth, and she could see the muscles tighten under his shirt. She saw his glare shift to her attacker, who was cuffed, swaying on his feet as he blearily responded to the cops’ questions. “I’m okay; it’s just a bruise,” she said, and slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. “I’m okay,” she repeated, and pulled him close, needing to feel his solid warmth against her. He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped his arms around her, careful to avoid the sore spot on her back. “You got to me in time.”

  She could feel his heart thudding in his chest and he let out a shaky sigh. His big hand cupped her cheek and he took her mouth in a rough kiss. Talia kissed him back, hard, not caring about the crowd that had gathered and was closing in to get a closer look at the ruckus.

  A throat cleared somewhere behind her and she reluctantly pulled her mouth from Jack’s but didn’t move from his embrace. She turned to see Detective Nolan. “You think this is the guy who’s been harassing you?”

  “He didn’t say as much”—her brain flashed back to that moment in the hall when the guy had said something—“but he did tell me no one wanted me dead yet. Do you think he’s the one who—”

  Nolan silenced her with a quick shake of his head. “I’ll be looking for a possible connection,” he said.

  Oh, God, was he the same person who kidnapped and raped the other women? Is that what he’d planned for her? A shudder racked her at the thought. No one wants you dead. Yet. Those other women weren’t dead, but she was sure there had been moments when they’d wished they were.

  Nolan started to ask her something, but she was distracted by a high, frantic voice calling her name. />
  Relief flooded through her as she saw Rosie following Eugene as he made a path through the crowd for her. Rosie’s hair and clothes were as drenched as everyone else’s from the sprinklers. When she reached Talia, she grabbed her in a fierce hug that made her aware of every bruise her attacker had left on her body. But Talia didn’t care about the pain. She didn’t care about anything except the fact that Rosie was safe, she was safe, and now that they’d caught this guy, they would stay that way.

  “Oh my God, are you okay? Someone said they saw him grab you, but we were trapped in the crowd.”

  “That’s him?” Eugene said, nodding in the direction of her attacker, who was sitting, cuffed, on the back of an ambulance. An EMT was shining a light in his eyes. Talia couldn’t hear, but it looked like the cop next to him was attempting to ask some questions.

  The man’s mouth moved, but it was clear from the glazed look on his face and the erratic movements of his head he was pretty out of it.

  “You really worked him over,” Eugene said to Jack, a note of admiration in his voice.

  “He got off easy,” Jack growled. His arms tightened around Talia. “He deserves a lot worse after what he’s done.”

  Rosie scooted off to go gawk at the firemen who’d arrived while Talia and Jack gave their statements to the police on the scene. She watched as Nolan went over to question her attacker, anxious to find out what he learned.

  After several minutes, her attacker was loaded into the ambulance. She could feel Jack shifting impatiently as Nolan pulled a phone out of his pocket and made a call before coming back over to talk to them.

  “They’re locking him up, right? Fucker better not be back out tonight or I’ll—”