The Embrace Series: Romantic Suspense Box Set

by Dana Mason

  She couldn’t see much else, but could hear someone banging around in her kitchen.

  Sweat beaded up on her forehead, and her hands were slippery as the tip of the gun jittered in her trembling hands. She looked around for her phone. Oh God, she couldn’t breathe, how stupid of her not to keep the phone nearby. She took several shuddering, deep breaths and tried to keep from hyperventilating.

  Don’t panic, Sarah. She didn’t know what to do. Run, stay...hide?

  Cursing and loud crashing came from the kitchen. The blaring alarm streamed through her brain and pounded along with her rapid pulse, making it impossible to focus. She heard the phone ringing but was too afraid to look around for it again. If she took her eyes off the door, she’d lose her line of sight in the dark room.

  A large figure came into view. Sarah shrank behind the bed, extending her arms out with her gun gripped in both hands. Her body went ridged with fear. She couldn’t tell if he had a weapon in his hand, but that didn’t matter, his presence alone was threatening enough.

  He panted like a dog in heat when he entered, his eyes searching the room, the narrow stream of light from his flashlight bouncing off the furniture and walls. The glow from the light skipped right over her head, and she hoped—prayed he hadn’t seen her. Bile rose in her throat at the sight of him, and every instinct in her said to run like hell, but she couldn’t move.

  He peered into her bathroom before moving toward the closet. When he turned back, their eyes locked. The eye contact sent a rush of blood to her head. A wave of hatred mixed with fear coursed through her. She would kill him if she had to.

  He took a step closer, and without the slightest hesitation, she pulled the trigger. The blast from the end of the gun lit the room. The power behind the shot jerked her hands up and sent a jolt of pain through her shoulder. She righted herself, not taking her eyes off him, ready to take another shot.

  He pushed off the wall and grabbed his arm, leaning forward slightly. “Fuckin’ bitch,” he huffed. “You fucking shot me!”

  He staggered out of her room, smashing something in the living room.

  Sarah tried to hold still, her hands so sweaty the heavy gun nearly slipped from her grip.

  When his feet shuffled on the wood floor, she froze again and braced for another fight, but heard him fumbling with the locks on the front door. The door banged open, slamming against the wall as his footsteps stormed out.

  When Mark pulled into her driveway, the alarm boomed through the open front door. His pulse accelerated at the sight of the dark house. Once he gripped the cold steel of his nine-millimeter, he calmed down and focused.

  He inched toward the front door, listening for anything through the screeching alarm. The house was completely dark, but he caught the outline of the overturned table blocking the entrance in time to keep from tripping over it.

  “Sarah?” he called as he inched through the house.

  “Sarah!” he shouted more urgent this time with his gun extended into her bedroom. The bed was empty and the blankets trailed onto the floor. Mark took a breath to force back the panic.

  “Mark?”

  Oh, thank God. Hearing her voice settled him slightly. The whimper came from the other side of the bed, and when he looked closer, his eyes rested on the gun pointed at him.

  “Yes...Sarah...it’s Mark. Is he gone?”

  “Oh, God,” she breathed, but held the gun steady.

  “Are you okay?”

  Sarah began to sob, still clinging to the shaking gun.

  The steadiness he’d felt moments ago was gone, the image of her scared and crouched on the floor hiding in her pajamas nearly broke him.

  He stepped around the bed and carefully laid a hand on her wrist. “Put the gun down.”

  She dropped it and pulled her hand to her chest.

  Mark knelt next to her, approaching her gently, hoping not to scare her further. “Are you hurt?”

  Her shoulders jerked with her sobs, and she leaned into Mark’s chest, gripping his t-shirt with her little fists. He scooped her up and leaned back against the wall, holding her in his lap.

  She jittered uncontrollably in his arms, and her clothes were soaked through with sweat.

  “It’s okay, Sarah. I’m here. Take a breath.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit the speed dial for Summors’ dispatch.

  “Mark?”

  “Yeah,” he shouted. “I’m here, shut it down.”

  The alarm stopped, sirens replacing the noise.

  Mark tried to take a deep breath before he said, “Seth, did you get Brian Hammel?”

  “He’s on his way. Everything okay?”

  “She’s fine.” He closed his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket.

  “Sarah.” He looked down at her. She was curled in his lap, still clutching his shirt. “Let me look at you. Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” she sobbed, her body still trembling. “I’m okay.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How about your shoulder? Let me check it.” He pulled back and looked at her face first. She was stark white and shining with sweat and tears. He wiped her face and brushed her hair back. Relief swamped him, then guilt. Someone should have been here—he should’ve been here to protect her.

  When she shuddered again, he pulled her tighter and whispered, “You’re okay, Sarah.”

  He’d make sure of it.

  Sarah shivered while giving her statement to Detective Martinez. Mark had draped his jacket over her when he left the room, but she still felt chilled to the bone.

  When Detective Martinez finished with her, she sat back on her bed and tried to relax, but she couldn’t forget the fact that Mark’s alarm system saved her life. He’d warned her about this and she didn’t listen. All he’d wanted to do was help her, and she’d kept fighting him.

  A few minutes later, he entered the room with Brian. She wiped the tears from her face, refusing to let all these cops see her cry.

  “We found blood in the kitchen,” Brian said as she sat up. “Have you been in the kitchen since he entered your home?”

  “No,” she said, trying to remember the chain of events. Everything happened so fast and waking up to the alarm didn’t give her much time to think. “I heard glass breaking when he came in, I assumed he broke a window.”

  “He knocked over some dishes, must have cut himself. We’ll compare this blood to the sample collected at Oakbrook on Friday. Then we’ll know for sure if this is the same guy.”

  “I’m already sure he’s the same guy—” She stopped talking when a huge, bald guy stopped in the doorway to her bedroom. She shrank back against the headboard at the sight of him, not sure what to do.

  Mark and Brian both looked over when she stopped talking.

  “Sarah, this is Shane Fields, he’s one of my security agents,” Mark said. “Shane was dispatched by me when I got the call from Summors.”

  Shane smiled at her. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  She nodded at Shane, and she realized she owed Mark for more than just saving her life. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Anyway, Sarah, you said you’re sure this is the same guy...”

  “I recognized his voice.” A shiver ran up her spine at the memory of his angry voice.

  “What did he say to you?”

  “He called me a ‘fucking bitch.’” She put her hand over her mouth to hide her quivering chin and mumbled, “‘You fucking shot me.’”

  Brian’s lips quirked into a quick smile. He pointed to the hole in her wall. “Is this his blood here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see where your shot hit him?”

  “No, but he reached across himself like this.” She demonstrated with her arm. “It looked like he grabbed his left bicep.”

  Brian examined the blood spot on the wall and pointed with his pen. “Look here,” he said to Mark, “the slug.”

  Mark stood and peered over Br
ian’s shoulder. “Flesh wound probably, went straight through,” Mark said.

  Sarah cleared her throat and when they turned to her, she asked, “How did he get into the house if he didn’t break a window?”

  “He popped the kitchen window without breaking the glass,” Brian said. “The weathered wood gave way, and the screws holding the sash lock stripped right out. You should consider upgrading to vinyl windows. They’re a little more secure.”

  “Yeah, those old, double-hung, wood window frames don’t stand a chance against someone who knows what they’re doing,” Mark said.

  Brian snickered. “Yeah, well, let’s not give him too much credit. He couldn’t get his fat ass through the window without making a mess and alerting the victim.”

  Mark sat down next to her. “And now she’s two for two.”

  “Do you think he’s injured enough to get medical attention?” Sarah asked, wishing she’d taken better aim.

  Brian shook his head. “No, there’s not enough blood.” He glanced from Sarah to Mark. “Don’t fool yourself, man. He won’t stop at this. If anything, it’s going to get worse.”

  “Meaning...now he’s really going to come after me.” She closed her eyes, trying not to visibly shiver at the thought.”

  “You’ve escaped this guy twice, Sarah. I’m no psychologist, but it’s pretty obvious you’re in more danger.” When she wrapped her arms around herself, Brian said, “We’re doing everything we can.”

  Her eyes popped open, anger spiking her pulse. “Then why did it take so long for the police to get here?”

  “Alarm systems go off all the time. Ninety percent of the time it’s a mistake—someone’s pet setting off a motion sensor or a door left ajar that gets thrown open from the wind.” Brian leveled his gaze at her. “We’re increasing patrols in the area. Dispatch knows the address, we’ll be more diligent.”

  “You said that before,” Mark said.

  Brian shot Mark an angry look, and then glanced back at Sarah. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Sarah, but we made incredibly fast time considering the circumstances.” His expression softened and he said, “I tried to warn you something like this might happen. There is a delay in response. This is why I told you to have someone here with you.”

  Sarah lowered her eyes, reminded of the lie she’d told him. He was right, she had been warned, and she should have listened to him and to Mark.

  “It’s a big city with lots of problems, we can’t give everyone personal attention.”

  Mark stood and paced the room, stopping at the window with his back to them. They grew quiet, and it felt as if everyone in the room took a collective breath.

  When Mark turned back around, she didn’t miss the worry and regret outlined on his face. It hurt to see him so upset, especially knowing it was all due to her stupid choices.

  “I guess it’s a damn good thing she had that gun,” Mark finally said.

  “Yeah, but now I have to take it for evidence,” Brian said.

  Sarah whipped her head around to look at him. “No! I need my gun. You can’t take it.”

  Brian’s eye widened. “I have to. It was involved in a crime.”

  “That’s not just any gun.” Sarah couldn’t hold back the pleading in her voice. She was helpless without her gun.

  “I can see that. It’s a collector’s and worth a bundle. Custom Colt 45, right?” Brian asked, leaning against the wall crossing his arms over his chest.

  “It was a gift. I want it back.”

  “A gift?” Mark said, sitting back down next to her. “Who gave it to you?”

  “My mom’s ex-husband, Charlie. He taught me and my brother, Devon, how to shoot and gave us our first guns.”

  Sarah looked up at Brian. “Charlie was a gun collector in Nashville, but I took care of the licensing when I moved back here. The gun is registered in California.”

  “Was? He doesn’t collect guns anymore?” Mark asked.

  “No.” She shook her head, fighting the ache in her heart when she thought about Charlie. “He’s dead. He was murdered a couple of years ago.”

  “Oh, wow.” Mark whistled in surprise. “That’s awful. I’m sorry, Sarah.”

  “How was he murdered?” Brian asked.

  Her eyes dropped to the floor feeling sick with the memory. “He was stabbed by an intruder.”

  “They catch the guy?” Brian asked.

  “No. I don’t think they ever caught the murderer.” She covered her mouth fighting the yawn creeping in.

  “You know”—Brian looked at his watch—“we’re about done and outta your hair.”

  He pushed off the wall and looked down at Sarah. “Do you plan to stay here? Can I make some calls for you?”

  “Um...no, I...” She glanced at Mark.

  “I’ll take care of her, Brian. Don’t worry about it.”

  A possessive statement like that usually would have bothered Sarah, but Mark saying the words I’ll take care of her spiked another wave of appreciation...and something else resembling desire. From him, the phrase seemed more gallant than possessive.

  “We’ll keep a unit in the area. It’s not likely he’ll try to enter your home again, but you should be careful when you go out alone.”

  Sarah shrugged uncomfortably. “I’ll be careful, thanks for everything, Brian.”

  When Brian and Shane left the room, Sarah turned toward the dark window. Was a maniac watching her? Even with a house full of cops, she felt so alone. She grabbed some clean clothes from the dresser and glanced over at Mark, who was now leaning in the doorway of her bedroom with his back to her, watching the police come in and out of the front door.

  “Mark?”

  He peered at her from over his shoulder. “You need something?”

  “Are they done with me? I’d like to take a shower.”

  “They’re finishing up. Go ahead. I’ll make sure everything’s locked up when they leave.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I kept you up all night again.”

  He turned to face her. “I should’ve believed you when you said you could protect yourself.”

  Sarah knitted her brow, staring into his eyes, hoping he understood how grateful she was for him. She had protected herself, but if it wasn’t for him and his alarm, she might not have had the chance.

  “No, you were right.” She balled her clothes, rolling them in her hands, and lowered her eyes. “Things could have turned out much worse. Thanks for getting here so fast...and being here for me.”

  “You look exhausted,” he said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I am exhausted,” she murmured. “I’m going to take a shower and clean up. Will you be here when I get out?”

  “Of course.” He exhaled heavily and said, “We’ll talk when you’re done.”

  Brian poked his head in her room. “We’re finished.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and hobbled into the bathroom.

  When she came out of the bathroom dressed in clean sweats and a tank top, she found Mark in the kitchen working on her window, with Shane handing him tools. The broken dishes were gone, and there was no evidence of the break-in left for Sarah to see.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Mark turned over his shoulder to look at her.

  “We secured the window. I reinstalled the lock and used bigger screws.” He stepped down from the stepstool. “You should consider newer windows. I have a friend who owns a window company. I’ll give him a call—whoa.” He held up his hand. “What I mean is—do you mind if we call him and ask him to give us an estimate?”

  When Shane snickered, she gave him a faint smile. “Thanks...that would be great.”

  Mark turned to Shane as he folded up the stepstool. “Can you give Greg a call in the morning, ask him to do the estimate and give him the address?”

  Shane nodded as he closed the tool box. “Want me to hang out?”

  “Ah...no, but do a cursory of the neighborhood and call me if anything stands out.” />
  “Will do.” Shane picked up the toolbox and headed out of the kitchen, stopping to say goodbye to Sarah. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Jennings.”

  She halfheartedly smiled at him. “It’s Sarah...thanks for coming.”

  Mark followed Shane to the door, and when she realized he intended to leave, she felt a jolt of panic.

  “Mark?” She hugged herself, chilled with the knowledge that she’d shot someone in her house—in her bedroom. After all the bullshit she’d spouted about being able to take care of herself, now she couldn’t stand the idea of being alone. “Will you stay?”

  “I’m not leaving. I’m just walking Shane out...” He hesitated for a moment, his expression set. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, tomorrow, we talk about serious protection.”

  She looked up at him and swallowed hard. Pride was a bitter pill, but she knew when to say when.

  Sarah helped Mark make up a bed on the sofa and took some pain meds. Her entire body ached from the adrenalin rush. She’d medicate herself into a coma if she had to. Sleep wouldn’t come easy without it. She’d been too afraid to use the medication when she was alone, but having Mark there put her at ease.

  She took one last peek at Mark on her sofa and wished she had something more comfortable to offer him. She briefly pictured him in her bed, keeping her warm and wrapping his strength around her. Embarrassed by the thought, her cheeks heated. She quickly closed the door on him and on her thoughts, leaving him to sleep and curling into her cold bed alone. The medication slowly lulled her to sleep.

  Purple clouds stretched above her.

  Her heart pounded and the gravel cut into her back.

  A cold hand pawed at her skirt.

  Hot, rancid breath scraped her face.

  Sarah jerked awake and sat up as a strangled scream came out of her dry throat. When her eyes popped opened, so did her bedroom door with a loud crack.

  When the dark figure came at her, she tried to scramble off the bed, but he grabbed her arm.

  “It’s okay.” Mark clicked on the bedside lamp. “Sarah, it’s okay,” he said gentler this time.