Cherry Crush (3 page)

“I’ve got to go and think on your words, Laney-kitten.” His voice husky, but he hoped that that was the only evidence of the growing desire he felt for her now that this final barrier between them had been breached.

“Chan—”
                     
                                                                                                                                                                                                              

“I will tell you tomorrow of my decision.”

As was his usual habit, he bowed to her in quiet respect, glad that the maneuver and his flowing tunic hid his rapidly growing erection, and exited her apartment.

“Way to go, Laney,” she mumbled. “The only decent piece of man-flesh for miles around and you go and scare the living daylights out of him.”

AND THEN….

Outside the eatery, Marlana looked at her watch and sighed. Eleven forty-five. It seemed her escort for the evening, for the first time since forever, was late.

“Why don’t you call Chan from the phone in the back?” Salvatore, owner of the rapidly growing restaurant, asked. “He’s probably running a little late. Tonight is the night that he helps those abused women with self-defense. Knowing what a soft touch he is, one of the women is probably bending his ear with her tale of woe, and Chan’s too soft-hearted to kick her out.”
 

 
“That’s ok, Sal,” Laney called, pulling on her brown leather duster to start the short walk home. “I’ll probably run into him on the way.”

“I could give you a lift?” he offered.

“That’s ok, Chef.” She laughed. “I don’t want to take you out of your way, now of all times,” she added, hefting the backpack that contained her wallet, uniform, and keys off the pavement.

Sal’s wife, Inez, was expecting twins any day now, and Laney didn’t want to hold him up.

“If you’re sure....”

“Yeah, go on.” Laney waved him away, a grin on her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chef, and we’ll talk about the new low-fat menu you want to add.”

“Ok, doll. See you tomorrow, then,” Sal added before he slipped behind the wheel of his new tricked-out minivan; the thing had spinning rims and all. He was jumping into fatherhood like the proud papa that he was, and he’d started by ditching his sports scar and buying a brand new, safety tested, Mom Magazine-approved minivan. Inez was one lucky woman.

Laney grinned as she slung her backpack onto her shoulder and watched the gold van peel rubber down the street before she started home. Even though he was going to be a daddy, Sal couldn’t totally get rid of his Italian playboy mannerisms.

Anticipating meeting up with Chan at any minute, Laney didn’t pay the usual attention to her surroundings.

“Can I go home with you?” a voice asked.

Startled, Laney jumped, her hand going to her chest. She turned. A rather tall boy, about seventeen or so, grinned down at her. She stepped to the side, took in his cocky attitude and ‘gangsta’ clothes, and shook her head.

“Go on home to Mama, junior.” Laney rolled her eyes. “She must be worried about you, and it’s after dark.”

“Why don’t you take me home and punish me, then?” the smart-ass chuckled. “My mama would appreciate it.”

“Why don’t you get out of my face, junior?” Laney had more important things to do than to stand there arguing with a walking, overactive hormone.

She turned away only to run smack into two other solid large bodies. At their leering grins, she turned and tried to back away.

“What do you have to say now, bitch?” the first one spoke. The other two egged him on with “School her, Bryan.”

“This!” she cried and slammed the heel of her hand into his nose.

With a curse of pain from the unexpected blow, he stumbled back, giving Laney the room she needed to dash by him.

Chan’s first lesson to her and to anyone taking any of his classes was to be aware of your surroundings. She had been so concerned that Chan had been avoiding her on purpose because of her small little request that she didn’t watch where she was going.

Chan’s second lesson was to draw as much attention to yourself as possible.

As she ran down the empty street, she let out a cry worthy of a B-movie scream-queen.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she darted down an unfamiliar street, only for it to turn into a dead-end alley blocked by a high chain-linked fence and several metal garbage cans.

Seeing no way out, she grabbed a lid from a nearby can and braced herself.

The three were hot on her tracks. She spun and knocked one out of her way with the lid. She almost made it through the breach she created when her target stumbled back, but the leader of this pack was too quick for her.

“You almost broke my nose, bitch,” he roared, one hand covering his nose, his breath sounding harsh form between dry lips. “Now you’re going to pay.” He reached out and wrenched the lid form her hand, before grabbing her by the face. Snarling, his face twisted in anger, he shoved her back to his buddies.

While the other two held her, the first one—Bryan as his friends called him—pulled out a knife and slashed at the straps to her backpack. All it contained was her near-empty wallet, her door keys, and her cook’s uniform, so he wouldn’t get much on that score.

“Are we gonna run a ‘train’ on her, man?” the one on her left asked, and all the blood drained from Laney’s face.

He dressed like the other two in high top tennis shoes and a black flannel sweatsuit.

“After she pays,” Bryan’s eyes narrowed before he backhanded her in the face.

“You bastard!” she screamed, enough adrenaline coursed through her body to deaden the pain in her face as she continued to fight, but she suddenly stopped struggling when Bryan pressed the blade to her throat.

The others laughed, watching with hungry eyes when her arms wrenched upwards and they wrestled her to the ground. She kicked out, but only managed to knock one heel off. It flew up in the dank air of the dark alley, and the bastards laughed again when the lone shoe flew behind her and almost struck her on the head.

“You think you too good for us?” Bryan asked, using the knife to slash through her long duster and the skirt she’d picked out to wear home, a skirt chosen especially to entice Chan into her way of thinking.

Oh God! Chan!
 

Her mind churned with a thousand questions. What would he do when he found out? What if they killed her? Would he be the one to find her torn, violated body?

With renewed vigor, she started to fight them, ignoring the dangers of the knife, figuring a few small cuts were more actable than accepting a violation.

“Hold still or I’ll cut you!” Bryan snapped. To make his point he sliced a thin line on her inner thigh, now exposed through the slashed skirt.

A shrill cry escaped her as one of her hands, the right one, slipped free of her tormentor’s grasp and scrambled along the slimy wet concrete behind her head. Almost by chance, her fingers touched smooth leather and hard wood. The missing shoe! The other two were too involved in observing Bryan’s handiwork to notice. They sat back on their heels, holding her shoulders down, and watching Bryan slit her blouse from neck to waist.

In that moment, when their guard was down, Laney jerked her shoulder, displacing the goon to her right, and slammed the heel into Bryan’s eye. He screamed in pain, and the other two looked on in horror as she wrenched herself free. Lurching to her feet, she darted back down the alley, panic-blinded by fear and pain.

She turned back to catch a quick glance at the outraged trio and shrieked when she ran into a hard wall of muscle and flesh.

Automatically, she let out a frightened scream and fought the arms that surrounded her, pushing against the grip that threatened to pull her in against another male chest.

“Laney?”

“Let me go!” she bellowed. Tears of frustration filled her eyes. She was so close to freedom only to be caught by another of Bryan’s ilk. She kicked and swung at the immovable force in fear and anger and tried to force him to let her go.

“Laney!” the voice cried.

She looked up, saw a violently still face, a familiar face, a face that meant safety from all harm.

Chan stared down at her, and from the expression on his face, she could tell that he was not amused.

A clatter and the sounds of cursing and swearing echoed from the alley. She had almost forgotten about the thug trio, and more importantly, their knife.

“Run!” she screamed, doing her best to pull Chan away from the alley towards safety. “They have a knife!”

“Go get help,” he replied and released her, looking over her head. A small feral smile graced his features as he shoved Laney behind him.

The terrible trio had arrived.

“You tried to take my eye, bitch.” Bryan clutched the bleeding area directly below his eye. “And I’m gonna take your fuckin’ life.”
 

Bryan cried in anger and pain racing towards Laney and Chan, face twisted in rage.

“Go!”
 
Chan urged her, and she took off.

As Laney rounded the corner, she screamed for help.

Spying a parked patrol car in the distance, she ran to it and banged on the windows. Within seconds, the two patrol officers had called in the assault and sprinted with her back to the alley.

As soon as Marlana turned the corner, Chan exploded into action.

In a series of controlled motions, he neatly kicked one man in the jaw, rendering him unconscious instantly. His left elbow slammed into the other man’s throat, dropping him to writhe on the ground, fighting for each breath. In a roundhouse, he kicked the knife from Bryan’s hand.

Bryan backed up and fumbled in his pocket, presumably for some other weapon, but in front of him, Chan didn’t move, and Bryan sprinted back down the alley and over the fence that had trapped her.